The Great Race
Originally posted Monday, August 22, 2005
It all started about 5 years ago when my buddy and I saw an ad in the local paper for an upcoming local canoe race. It consisted of three and a half miles down a shallow running rocky river, with twists and turns hidden obstacles that can capsize a canoe or shred it to pieces. No problem we thought, we're experienced canoe enthusiasts. We've paddled our way down much rougher rivers, how hard could it be (or so we thought). And ever since that day, we have entered faithfully every year. Some years we had disappointing results, and others, satisfactory result, but never the all mighty first place that everyone strides to achieve when entering any race. That however was all about to change.
The last year we entered we scouted the river a month in advance. Checking every rock, turn, and depth across the entire stretch of the race. We plotted which islands we would go on which side, and where we would have to get out and run because the river was to shallow to float the canoe. We spent countless weekends trying each side of the river, paddling as hard as we could to check our times. This all seemed to work really well, and would have given us a first place victory, had I not dropped a paddle half way through the race causing my partner to bail in what seemed to be the deepest part of the river. This set back dropped us from first place, to second. Since then we still continue to scout the river a month in advance of the race but with a lot more beer, and a spare canoe paddle.
This year presented some new challenges. The river was extremely shallow in several spots with a lot more treacherous terrain. Large exposed boulders with merely inches to spare between them meant tight navigation. Spots that would normally warrant heavy paddling were now no more then a foot deep with rocks hovering just below the surface. There was no way to see them until your right on top of them, which meant if we weren't careful, this year could also be our last.
In the past years the race has come down to a deciding factor of mere seconds. Hitting one of these hidden rocks could make or break any placement at the finish line. After several long and drunken trips down the river trying every scenario possible we had what we thought would be the best plan to achieve our goal. Aside from the occasional hidden rock, unavoidable thick weeds, or extreme shallow spots we should have a good chance against anyone unfamiliar with the river. The week's prior I ate like a pig to gain mass and worked out 4 times a week to prepare. Not knowing until a week before hand when the race was made it difficult to truly prepare for the event. The water level can change over night with enough rain causing all the weeks of planning worthless with changing currents and adjusting obstacles. The weather cooperated in the weeks prior to the race and thus our planning was all for not.
The day of the race was upon us. The weather was a very comfortable 71 degrees under mostly sunny skies with a slight wind of 10mph out of the north. This meant that the wind would be pushing us for most of the trip. The race was to begin at 1:00pm. Since so many people enter the race it would be impossible to send everyone down all at once.
Instead they send them down in groups of 5 with 2-minute intervals between each group. Because the river was so shallow this year my buddy and I agreed it would be best to get in the first group so we wouldn't have to worry about passing so many people during the shallows. To do this we arrived at registration 2 hours early to get a low number. This worked to our advantage and we were assigned number two. Little did we know that this would be our new lucky number. With our number in hand we headed back to my buddies house were we loaded up my canoe. A 17-foot old town with a flat bottom and built in seats, wide in the middle but made from composites to take the abuse of the river. Not your normal racing canoe, but under the circumstances of the river being so shallow we new we were going to hit some rocks, so my canoe was the best choice. At quarter after 12 we did one last check on our gear and headed out to the launch site at the start of the race. We usually arrive early in order to get in the water without fighting 20 or more other canoes and so we can size up any competition we might encounter. After setting into the water we found a quiet spot off to the side of the starting point far enough back to monitor everyone entering the river. It wasn't long before the portage was bustling with racers entering the water. Some of them experienced, and some are obvious novices. As my buddy and I sat in the cool water watching each canoeist enter the water we check to see what is ahead. Small crawfish and minnows swim next to our canoe, we watch the clock tick by and are shocked to see how many people entered this year.
12:30
"I count 15 canoes already" I said to my buddy
"1…2…I count 18" he says in response to my count.
"Damn we might have some competition this year"
We watch each canoe as it enters very carefully, measuring the size and width of the canoe with our eyes, as well as what the canoe is made out of and how the racers inside handle their canoe. So far we don't spot any Kevlar canoes, which is a great advantage in racing. For the most part I don't spot much competition except for two parties in our group, one of them being last years winners. I begin to doubt myself before the race even begins.
"What do ya thing? I ask my partner.
"I don't think we have anything to worry about."
My buddies reassurance helps to calm me down and bring back some of the confidence and moral I will need if we are going to win this thing.
"What time you got?" I ask
"20 minutes" he says
The anticipation is building and for some reason this year I actually feel nervous. Is this a prelude to what is to come? I look across the bridge, which is also the starting point, at the ever increasing number of spectators. My heart races even more.
"There" I say pointing to one of the people on the bridge "the coordinator is on the bridge we should probably move up soon"
"Yeah, lets move up next to them" my partner says pointing to an aluminum canoe in front of me stuck up against a tree so they don't start floating down river.
Our paddles dig into the sandy bottom next to the canoe, and with a couple of heaves the shore in which we were grounded upon releases its hold and we begin to float downstream towards the aluminum canoe.
"Coming along side," My partner announces to the participants in the aluminum canoe.
I feel the subtle tap as the back of our canoe bumps into theirs. With that the opposition offers his canoe paddle to me to grab onto. I grab a hold and pull myself towards their canoe so we are now parallel to each other.
"Hows it going?" I smile and nod to the guy in the front of the canoe.
"Not bad and yourself?"
"Good" I say
"This your guys first time?"
"No we enter every year," I say.
"Well be careful around those two," he says pointing across the front of my canoe to a camouflaged aluminum canoe holding last year's winners. "Last year they swamped us and cost us the race."
I nod with acknowledgment to show my appreciation for his tip.
A voice from on top the bridge bellows out "5 minutes, 5 minutes until the start of the race, numbers 1-5"
"Well this is it," I say
"Yeah I guess so"
"Good luck"
"Same to you"
With that I look back to my partner who nods his head acknowledging that it is time to get into starting position. We push off from the other canoe and position ourselves just under the edge of the bridge. My partner stabs his paddle down into the murky water-striking bottom holding our position until the whistle blows, while I keep my head down and my eyes focused on my paddle which is hovering just above the surface of the water.
My heart begins to race and I can feel each beat throughout my body.
"One minute until the race begins, 1 minute. Racers 1 through 5 line up," The coordinator announces from atop the bridge.
All five canoes now line up at the bridge, each one touching one another from the narrowness of the river. I can already tell we will be battling each other for lead while we try to break free in the first stretch.
"Counting down…10…. 9…8…7…" The coordinator begins to count down the final seconds. I bring my paddle up in front of me and let the tip of it enter the water. My muscles tense waiting the few final seconds before the whistle blows announcing the start of the race.
"5…4…3…2…1…"
On the last second I thrust my paddle back with everything I have shooting our canoe out of its holding spot. The first few feet are intense as each canoe is banging off of one another trying to gain the lead. Water splashing in from both sides as I drive my paddle in hard to try and break away from the other racers. The sound of five canoes and their paddles clashing as they echo beneath the bridge at a deafening level. At this point I don't have time to even look ahead for any obstacles, all I can do is keep paddling as hard as I can with my eyes focused on the water.
After about the first 50 feet, the canoe on our right breaks free and begins to fall back. There are only two of us battling for first position now as the other canoes follow suit behind us. Frustration sets in, as it seems like an eternity that last years winners and us are still stuck together. Our canoes stuck together as if they are glued, we can only continue to paddle on the one open side, which continues to steer both canoes into one another. The race has just begun and I hear a whistle behind us signaling the start of the second wave of racers. I begin to worry. If we don't break away soon we leave everyone behind us the perfect chance to pass us while the two of us struggle to break free. Suddenly both canoes come to a halt and I lunge forward as we hit the first low spot in the river. Without hesitation myself and the other canoes front man leap out, grabbing hold of the front end of our canoes we start sprinting as fast as we can down stream in search of deeper water. The river now dancing across my face and streaming down my glasses with each plunge of my foot into the shallow water. This may be the only chance we have to break away from one another. I push as hard as I can to pull ahead in the now foot race. I don't have time to turn and see if my partner has jumped out of the canoe with me, all I can do is keep running until the water is deep enough for the canoe to sustain itself. I look over to my left, amazingly not only have I gained a foot on our competition but we are now far enough apart that if I jump back in we can begin to paddle.
I take another glance down at my feet and see that the water is deep enough to jump in. With careful timing as not to tip the canoe, I grab hold of both sides of the canoe, still running I jump in. The canoe sways heavily from side to side as I regain my balance. A second shutter comes shortly after as I feel my partner jump in as well. I reach behind me grabbing my paddle, I waste no time jabbing it in the still shallow water.
-CRUNCH- The sound of my paddle digging into the small pebbles of the river bottom are echoed through my canoe paddle and sends a slight jolt through my arms as I use the rocks to push forward rather then paddle the water. Looking to my left I see we are still ever so slightly in the lead. My partner and I continue to paddle as hard as we can to keep our lead, but because the water is so shallow we need to pick our way along the river to keep from bottoming out once again. Unfortunately the pass to do this isn't wide enough for two canoes and it isn't long before we are once again glued to the side of our closest competitors. Our two canoes slam into one another and we begin the fight to try and separate from one another once again. Before I know what is going on, our canoe takes a hard right and was heading toward shore in an area I am not familiar with.
"What the hell are you doing?" I ask my partner
"We have no choice, it's the only way we can separate from these guys"
I reluctantly oblige and continue to paddle ahead now steering for shore. To my surprise the water here is deep enough to get in a good stroke of my paddle, and there seems to be an increasing current helping push us along near shore. When we emerge from our little detour I turn to see we are now one full canoe length in front of our competitors and going strong. Holy shit I can't believe it, my partners little sidetrack seems to have worked to our benefit rather then our demise. With them behind us I dig my paddle in as hard as I can thrusting us forward even more into the lead. My eyes now focused in front of our canoe to watch for obstacles and to navigate us back onto our normal fixed path. We keep up this strong pace for about fifteen minutes keeping an eye over my shoulder to make sure no one is gaining on us.
"Rock in front on left, steer right" I shout back to my partner. "Straight ahead, steer me towards the shore so I can pick up that current" We quickly get back into our rhythm of me navigating and my partner steering. Each stroke I relay the next directions to my partner in the back so he can safely maneuver us through the rough waters and keep us in the strong current. I glance back behind us once again to see that our lead has increased to around 50 feet and were still going strong. Our competition seems to be mimicking our every move but by the sounds of the noise and the frustration in their voices their not having the same luck avoiding the rocks. I fear that they will hold their position until the last stretch when the river gets wider then use our navigation to thier advantage to overtake us.
"You think they are following our every move to take us in the end?" I ask
"You mean pacing themselves until the last rapids?"
"Yeah!"
"Nah, once we get passed the hatchery there is no passing, whoever is in the lead will stay in the lead"
"Ok…hey looks like they are gaining"
"No there not, your seeing things" my partner says.
"Ok" I say shrugging my shoulders "Are you sure?"
"Yeah" my buddy says restoring any doubt I had of us losing the lead.
"Hey" he says "Switch sides, we need to get to the other side of shore, our first island shortcut is coming up"
With that I switch sides and begin to paddle hard to help steer the canoe. As we round the corner I can see the island. On the left is the short route but anyone looking at it would think twice. Directly in the middle, the river runs dry and you can see all the exposed rocks. Anyone in their right mind would go the other way thinking that the left side is impassable. But because we have scouted the river before hand my partner and I know that the river is actually quiet deep until the middle, which means we only need to get out and run for a short distance in order to get the canoe back in paddle-able water. We approach the left side, my eyes dart over my right shoulder to catch our competitors taking the right side. It worked I think to myself. However not for long, the group behind them can see we are gaining a lot of ground taking the left side and have started to head close to the left shore indicating they too will attempt the shortcut.
"Not yet" I announce to my partner letting him know it is not time to bail out of the canoe. If we jump to soon we waste coasting time, and tire ourselves out by running a longer distance. Seconds before we hit the rocks stopping our canoe I shout "NOW!!" with that I jump over the side and once again grab hold of the canoe and begin to sprint. This marks the half way point of the race and I begin to feel the heavy paddling up to this point taking effect on my body. My quick sprint turns into a fast walk, which quickly turns into a slow walk. My legs are wobbly and I feel like I am about to collapse. I look down to see if we can put the canoe back in the water and jump in where I can once again sit down to at least allow my legs to rest.
The water is only about five inches when I decide to take our chances and drop the canoe back into the water signaling to my partner to jump in. We both sluggishly enter the canoe, which is only slightly afloat in the shallow water. Both our paddles enter the water and dig into the rocks to push off. With one good push we are back in deep enough water to float the canoe. I look ahead to see we are now pointing directly at our next corner giving us another advantage to anyone taking the other way which will force them to put serious drag on their canoe in order to swing the tight corner and stay in the strong current.
"That’s it," I shout with enthusiasm "were half way now bud, we can do this, we have a shot to win"
Seeing the amount of distance between our closest competitor and us brings a second wind throughout my veins and I once again dig my paddle hard into the water. I begin to paddle so hard in fact that my partner shouts at me.
"Hey, you're doing the steering now"
"Ok!!" I shout back.
Knowing this I can better anticipate our next move and keep us on track leaving the quick short turns around obstacles to my partner. This works well and we keep about the same distance from any competition. Shouts and bangs from behind us assure me even more that our lead will not be compromised.
-SPLASH-SPLASH-SPLASH-
The sounds of footsteps running through the water sends a slight smile to my face knowing that the someone has just bottomed out and has had to get out and run. At this point in the race, the last thing you want to do is get out and carry a 75 pound plus canoe through the water.
We're now three quarters of the way through the race, my arms are like rubber. My left thumb is throbbing with pain. I glance down to notice that the canoe paddle has created a large blister between my thumb and index finger and the constant rubbing from the paddle has already busted it open and torn the flesh completely away exposing a large red raw piece of flesh. My stomach is nauseous and I feel as if I am going to vomit. My mouth gummy and throat dry as I search for any sign of moisture inside my mouth to wet my cracking lips. It's no use; any moisture I had inside my body has already been expelled throughout my pours as sweat. I can feel dehydration setting in as I splash some water across my face to cool me down. I can't give up now I think to myself. The finish is just around the corner.
It is now 40 minutes past the hour in which the race started. My entire body is weak and every other stroke of my canoe paddle is lifeless. Ahead I see the last major corner before the finish. A third wind kicks in and I try my hardest to paddle. Maneuvering around the last few boulders we round the corner and I can see the bridge signifying the finish line. Littered across the top of the bridge and below along the shorelines are spectators. Cheers erupt as they see us come around the corner. Shouts of encouragement begin to head our way. A burst of adrenaline shoots through my body and I reach down deep to muster every last bit of energy I have to paddle hard. (Well that and to look good in front of the pretty ladies) Stroke after stroke we shorten the distance between the finish line and us.
"What's your number?" someone hollers from the bridge.
"2" I yell back
Seconds later applause comes across the crowd as we glide underneath the bridge ending our journey for this year. My partner and I bring our canoe into shore just beyond the bridge and exit the canoe. With whatever strength we have left we hoist the canoe onto shore. We stand there for a moment, looking at each other our hands set on our knees breathing heavy. Our bodies shaking from the last hour of physical punishment we put our bodies through. A huge smile crosses our face as we begin to realize we just might have won this thing this year. We won't know for sure until all the times from each group are tallied, but deep down we know we did pretty damn good. We didn't swamp the canoe twice (first year) we didn't lose to a Kevlar canoe (second year) we didn't drop a canoe paddle and have to stop to get it (third year) we just busted our ass, and for that we're proud. Moments later the second canoe crosses the finish line. My partner and I enter the river once more to help the other racers bring their canoes in. The rugged cool water that fought us the entire way now sweeps between our legs relaxing our tired muscles and cooling us off.
After sharing stories with other racers and listening to the problems they had we venture up to the bar were the results will soon be read. My partner grabs a spot at a table and I head up to the bar to order us a beer. I sit down on a stool, my body still aching, and light up a cigar. My partner and I begin to reminisce about the trip, retracing each step in detail, complementing each other of our decisions down the river . The bar quickly begins to fill with racers all of them carrying their own tale, some of them wet from head to toe from swamping their canoe, others bruised and battered from the ride.
The coordinator soon comes in with his clipboard signaling that all racers have crossed the finish line. He swings in behind the bar and pulls out the trophies. Is this the year? Is this the year our hard work finally pays off? In the next few minutes we will find out. The bar goes quiet as he scans his clipboard.
With the anticipation building I start going over each fault we made during the race wondering if any of them will be a deciding factor in our victory.
"Whose number 2?" The coordinator shouts from behind the bar.
"We are," I say standing up waving my hand in the air.
"You guys placed first, congratulations!"
And with that the entire bar begins to applause us as I walk up to accept our trophies. Finally after 5 years of hard work, scouting and exercise, my buddy and I hold the title for 2005. A big weight is lifted off of my shoulders and I have a grin from ear to ear for the next 4 hours. I turn and hold up our trophies to show everyone in the bar and head back to our table to hand my partner his trophy. It may be a silly canoe race to most people, but for us, it was a lot more then that.
Will we keep the title next year? I don't know and I don't care, all I know is this year, we were the best, and frankly that’s all that matters to me right now.
This is my proudest post thus far
It all started about 5 years ago when my buddy and I saw an ad in the local paper for an upcoming local canoe race. It consisted of three and a half miles down a shallow running rocky river, with twists and turns hidden obstacles that can capsize a canoe or shred it to pieces. No problem we thought, we're experienced canoe enthusiasts. We've paddled our way down much rougher rivers, how hard could it be (or so we thought). And ever since that day, we have entered faithfully every year. Some years we had disappointing results, and others, satisfactory result, but never the all mighty first place that everyone strides to achieve when entering any race. That however was all about to change.
The last year we entered we scouted the river a month in advance. Checking every rock, turn, and depth across the entire stretch of the race. We plotted which islands we would go on which side, and where we would have to get out and run because the river was to shallow to float the canoe. We spent countless weekends trying each side of the river, paddling as hard as we could to check our times. This all seemed to work really well, and would have given us a first place victory, had I not dropped a paddle half way through the race causing my partner to bail in what seemed to be the deepest part of the river. This set back dropped us from first place, to second. Since then we still continue to scout the river a month in advance of the race but with a lot more beer, and a spare canoe paddle.
This year presented some new challenges. The river was extremely shallow in several spots with a lot more treacherous terrain. Large exposed boulders with merely inches to spare between them meant tight navigation. Spots that would normally warrant heavy paddling were now no more then a foot deep with rocks hovering just below the surface. There was no way to see them until your right on top of them, which meant if we weren't careful, this year could also be our last.
In the past years the race has come down to a deciding factor of mere seconds. Hitting one of these hidden rocks could make or break any placement at the finish line. After several long and drunken trips down the river trying every scenario possible we had what we thought would be the best plan to achieve our goal. Aside from the occasional hidden rock, unavoidable thick weeds, or extreme shallow spots we should have a good chance against anyone unfamiliar with the river. The week's prior I ate like a pig to gain mass and worked out 4 times a week to prepare. Not knowing until a week before hand when the race was made it difficult to truly prepare for the event. The water level can change over night with enough rain causing all the weeks of planning worthless with changing currents and adjusting obstacles. The weather cooperated in the weeks prior to the race and thus our planning was all for not.
The day of the race was upon us. The weather was a very comfortable 71 degrees under mostly sunny skies with a slight wind of 10mph out of the north. This meant that the wind would be pushing us for most of the trip. The race was to begin at 1:00pm. Since so many people enter the race it would be impossible to send everyone down all at once.
Instead they send them down in groups of 5 with 2-minute intervals between each group. Because the river was so shallow this year my buddy and I agreed it would be best to get in the first group so we wouldn't have to worry about passing so many people during the shallows. To do this we arrived at registration 2 hours early to get a low number. This worked to our advantage and we were assigned number two. Little did we know that this would be our new lucky number. With our number in hand we headed back to my buddies house were we loaded up my canoe. A 17-foot old town with a flat bottom and built in seats, wide in the middle but made from composites to take the abuse of the river. Not your normal racing canoe, but under the circumstances of the river being so shallow we new we were going to hit some rocks, so my canoe was the best choice. At quarter after 12 we did one last check on our gear and headed out to the launch site at the start of the race. We usually arrive early in order to get in the water without fighting 20 or more other canoes and so we can size up any competition we might encounter. After setting into the water we found a quiet spot off to the side of the starting point far enough back to monitor everyone entering the river. It wasn't long before the portage was bustling with racers entering the water. Some of them experienced, and some are obvious novices. As my buddy and I sat in the cool water watching each canoeist enter the water we check to see what is ahead. Small crawfish and minnows swim next to our canoe, we watch the clock tick by and are shocked to see how many people entered this year.
12:30
"I count 15 canoes already" I said to my buddy
"1…2…I count 18" he says in response to my count.
"Damn we might have some competition this year"
We watch each canoe as it enters very carefully, measuring the size and width of the canoe with our eyes, as well as what the canoe is made out of and how the racers inside handle their canoe. So far we don't spot any Kevlar canoes, which is a great advantage in racing. For the most part I don't spot much competition except for two parties in our group, one of them being last years winners. I begin to doubt myself before the race even begins.
"What do ya thing? I ask my partner.
"I don't think we have anything to worry about."
My buddies reassurance helps to calm me down and bring back some of the confidence and moral I will need if we are going to win this thing.
"What time you got?" I ask
"20 minutes" he says
The anticipation is building and for some reason this year I actually feel nervous. Is this a prelude to what is to come? I look across the bridge, which is also the starting point, at the ever increasing number of spectators. My heart races even more.
"There" I say pointing to one of the people on the bridge "the coordinator is on the bridge we should probably move up soon"
"Yeah, lets move up next to them" my partner says pointing to an aluminum canoe in front of me stuck up against a tree so they don't start floating down river.
Our paddles dig into the sandy bottom next to the canoe, and with a couple of heaves the shore in which we were grounded upon releases its hold and we begin to float downstream towards the aluminum canoe.
"Coming along side," My partner announces to the participants in the aluminum canoe.
I feel the subtle tap as the back of our canoe bumps into theirs. With that the opposition offers his canoe paddle to me to grab onto. I grab a hold and pull myself towards their canoe so we are now parallel to each other.
"Hows it going?" I smile and nod to the guy in the front of the canoe.
"Not bad and yourself?"
"Good" I say
"This your guys first time?"
"No we enter every year," I say.
"Well be careful around those two," he says pointing across the front of my canoe to a camouflaged aluminum canoe holding last year's winners. "Last year they swamped us and cost us the race."
I nod with acknowledgment to show my appreciation for his tip.
A voice from on top the bridge bellows out "5 minutes, 5 minutes until the start of the race, numbers 1-5"
"Well this is it," I say
"Yeah I guess so"
"Good luck"
"Same to you"
With that I look back to my partner who nods his head acknowledging that it is time to get into starting position. We push off from the other canoe and position ourselves just under the edge of the bridge. My partner stabs his paddle down into the murky water-striking bottom holding our position until the whistle blows, while I keep my head down and my eyes focused on my paddle which is hovering just above the surface of the water.
My heart begins to race and I can feel each beat throughout my body.
"One minute until the race begins, 1 minute. Racers 1 through 5 line up," The coordinator announces from atop the bridge.
All five canoes now line up at the bridge, each one touching one another from the narrowness of the river. I can already tell we will be battling each other for lead while we try to break free in the first stretch.
"Counting down…10…. 9…8…7…" The coordinator begins to count down the final seconds. I bring my paddle up in front of me and let the tip of it enter the water. My muscles tense waiting the few final seconds before the whistle blows announcing the start of the race.
"5…4…3…2…1…"
On the last second I thrust my paddle back with everything I have shooting our canoe out of its holding spot. The first few feet are intense as each canoe is banging off of one another trying to gain the lead. Water splashing in from both sides as I drive my paddle in hard to try and break away from the other racers. The sound of five canoes and their paddles clashing as they echo beneath the bridge at a deafening level. At this point I don't have time to even look ahead for any obstacles, all I can do is keep paddling as hard as I can with my eyes focused on the water.
After about the first 50 feet, the canoe on our right breaks free and begins to fall back. There are only two of us battling for first position now as the other canoes follow suit behind us. Frustration sets in, as it seems like an eternity that last years winners and us are still stuck together. Our canoes stuck together as if they are glued, we can only continue to paddle on the one open side, which continues to steer both canoes into one another. The race has just begun and I hear a whistle behind us signaling the start of the second wave of racers. I begin to worry. If we don't break away soon we leave everyone behind us the perfect chance to pass us while the two of us struggle to break free. Suddenly both canoes come to a halt and I lunge forward as we hit the first low spot in the river. Without hesitation myself and the other canoes front man leap out, grabbing hold of the front end of our canoes we start sprinting as fast as we can down stream in search of deeper water. The river now dancing across my face and streaming down my glasses with each plunge of my foot into the shallow water. This may be the only chance we have to break away from one another. I push as hard as I can to pull ahead in the now foot race. I don't have time to turn and see if my partner has jumped out of the canoe with me, all I can do is keep running until the water is deep enough for the canoe to sustain itself. I look over to my left, amazingly not only have I gained a foot on our competition but we are now far enough apart that if I jump back in we can begin to paddle.
I take another glance down at my feet and see that the water is deep enough to jump in. With careful timing as not to tip the canoe, I grab hold of both sides of the canoe, still running I jump in. The canoe sways heavily from side to side as I regain my balance. A second shutter comes shortly after as I feel my partner jump in as well. I reach behind me grabbing my paddle, I waste no time jabbing it in the still shallow water.
-CRUNCH- The sound of my paddle digging into the small pebbles of the river bottom are echoed through my canoe paddle and sends a slight jolt through my arms as I use the rocks to push forward rather then paddle the water. Looking to my left I see we are still ever so slightly in the lead. My partner and I continue to paddle as hard as we can to keep our lead, but because the water is so shallow we need to pick our way along the river to keep from bottoming out once again. Unfortunately the pass to do this isn't wide enough for two canoes and it isn't long before we are once again glued to the side of our closest competitors. Our two canoes slam into one another and we begin the fight to try and separate from one another once again. Before I know what is going on, our canoe takes a hard right and was heading toward shore in an area I am not familiar with.
"What the hell are you doing?" I ask my partner
"We have no choice, it's the only way we can separate from these guys"
I reluctantly oblige and continue to paddle ahead now steering for shore. To my surprise the water here is deep enough to get in a good stroke of my paddle, and there seems to be an increasing current helping push us along near shore. When we emerge from our little detour I turn to see we are now one full canoe length in front of our competitors and going strong. Holy shit I can't believe it, my partners little sidetrack seems to have worked to our benefit rather then our demise. With them behind us I dig my paddle in as hard as I can thrusting us forward even more into the lead. My eyes now focused in front of our canoe to watch for obstacles and to navigate us back onto our normal fixed path. We keep up this strong pace for about fifteen minutes keeping an eye over my shoulder to make sure no one is gaining on us.
"Rock in front on left, steer right" I shout back to my partner. "Straight ahead, steer me towards the shore so I can pick up that current" We quickly get back into our rhythm of me navigating and my partner steering. Each stroke I relay the next directions to my partner in the back so he can safely maneuver us through the rough waters and keep us in the strong current. I glance back behind us once again to see that our lead has increased to around 50 feet and were still going strong. Our competition seems to be mimicking our every move but by the sounds of the noise and the frustration in their voices their not having the same luck avoiding the rocks. I fear that they will hold their position until the last stretch when the river gets wider then use our navigation to thier advantage to overtake us.
"You think they are following our every move to take us in the end?" I ask
"You mean pacing themselves until the last rapids?"
"Yeah!"
"Nah, once we get passed the hatchery there is no passing, whoever is in the lead will stay in the lead"
"Ok…hey looks like they are gaining"
"No there not, your seeing things" my partner says.
"Ok" I say shrugging my shoulders "Are you sure?"
"Yeah" my buddy says restoring any doubt I had of us losing the lead.
"Hey" he says "Switch sides, we need to get to the other side of shore, our first island shortcut is coming up"
With that I switch sides and begin to paddle hard to help steer the canoe. As we round the corner I can see the island. On the left is the short route but anyone looking at it would think twice. Directly in the middle, the river runs dry and you can see all the exposed rocks. Anyone in their right mind would go the other way thinking that the left side is impassable. But because we have scouted the river before hand my partner and I know that the river is actually quiet deep until the middle, which means we only need to get out and run for a short distance in order to get the canoe back in paddle-able water. We approach the left side, my eyes dart over my right shoulder to catch our competitors taking the right side. It worked I think to myself. However not for long, the group behind them can see we are gaining a lot of ground taking the left side and have started to head close to the left shore indicating they too will attempt the shortcut.
"Not yet" I announce to my partner letting him know it is not time to bail out of the canoe. If we jump to soon we waste coasting time, and tire ourselves out by running a longer distance. Seconds before we hit the rocks stopping our canoe I shout "NOW!!" with that I jump over the side and once again grab hold of the canoe and begin to sprint. This marks the half way point of the race and I begin to feel the heavy paddling up to this point taking effect on my body. My quick sprint turns into a fast walk, which quickly turns into a slow walk. My legs are wobbly and I feel like I am about to collapse. I look down to see if we can put the canoe back in the water and jump in where I can once again sit down to at least allow my legs to rest.
The water is only about five inches when I decide to take our chances and drop the canoe back into the water signaling to my partner to jump in. We both sluggishly enter the canoe, which is only slightly afloat in the shallow water. Both our paddles enter the water and dig into the rocks to push off. With one good push we are back in deep enough water to float the canoe. I look ahead to see we are now pointing directly at our next corner giving us another advantage to anyone taking the other way which will force them to put serious drag on their canoe in order to swing the tight corner and stay in the strong current.
"That’s it," I shout with enthusiasm "were half way now bud, we can do this, we have a shot to win"
Seeing the amount of distance between our closest competitor and us brings a second wind throughout my veins and I once again dig my paddle hard into the water. I begin to paddle so hard in fact that my partner shouts at me.
"Hey, you're doing the steering now"
"Ok!!" I shout back.
Knowing this I can better anticipate our next move and keep us on track leaving the quick short turns around obstacles to my partner. This works well and we keep about the same distance from any competition. Shouts and bangs from behind us assure me even more that our lead will not be compromised.
-SPLASH-SPLASH-SPLASH-
The sounds of footsteps running through the water sends a slight smile to my face knowing that the someone has just bottomed out and has had to get out and run. At this point in the race, the last thing you want to do is get out and carry a 75 pound plus canoe through the water.
We're now three quarters of the way through the race, my arms are like rubber. My left thumb is throbbing with pain. I glance down to notice that the canoe paddle has created a large blister between my thumb and index finger and the constant rubbing from the paddle has already busted it open and torn the flesh completely away exposing a large red raw piece of flesh. My stomach is nauseous and I feel as if I am going to vomit. My mouth gummy and throat dry as I search for any sign of moisture inside my mouth to wet my cracking lips. It's no use; any moisture I had inside my body has already been expelled throughout my pours as sweat. I can feel dehydration setting in as I splash some water across my face to cool me down. I can't give up now I think to myself. The finish is just around the corner.
It is now 40 minutes past the hour in which the race started. My entire body is weak and every other stroke of my canoe paddle is lifeless. Ahead I see the last major corner before the finish. A third wind kicks in and I try my hardest to paddle. Maneuvering around the last few boulders we round the corner and I can see the bridge signifying the finish line. Littered across the top of the bridge and below along the shorelines are spectators. Cheers erupt as they see us come around the corner. Shouts of encouragement begin to head our way. A burst of adrenaline shoots through my body and I reach down deep to muster every last bit of energy I have to paddle hard. (Well that and to look good in front of the pretty ladies) Stroke after stroke we shorten the distance between the finish line and us.
"What's your number?" someone hollers from the bridge.
"2" I yell back
Seconds later applause comes across the crowd as we glide underneath the bridge ending our journey for this year. My partner and I bring our canoe into shore just beyond the bridge and exit the canoe. With whatever strength we have left we hoist the canoe onto shore. We stand there for a moment, looking at each other our hands set on our knees breathing heavy. Our bodies shaking from the last hour of physical punishment we put our bodies through. A huge smile crosses our face as we begin to realize we just might have won this thing this year. We won't know for sure until all the times from each group are tallied, but deep down we know we did pretty damn good. We didn't swamp the canoe twice (first year) we didn't lose to a Kevlar canoe (second year) we didn't drop a canoe paddle and have to stop to get it (third year) we just busted our ass, and for that we're proud. Moments later the second canoe crosses the finish line. My partner and I enter the river once more to help the other racers bring their canoes in. The rugged cool water that fought us the entire way now sweeps between our legs relaxing our tired muscles and cooling us off.
After sharing stories with other racers and listening to the problems they had we venture up to the bar were the results will soon be read. My partner grabs a spot at a table and I head up to the bar to order us a beer. I sit down on a stool, my body still aching, and light up a cigar. My partner and I begin to reminisce about the trip, retracing each step in detail, complementing each other of our decisions down the river . The bar quickly begins to fill with racers all of them carrying their own tale, some of them wet from head to toe from swamping their canoe, others bruised and battered from the ride.
The coordinator soon comes in with his clipboard signaling that all racers have crossed the finish line. He swings in behind the bar and pulls out the trophies. Is this the year? Is this the year our hard work finally pays off? In the next few minutes we will find out. The bar goes quiet as he scans his clipboard.
With the anticipation building I start going over each fault we made during the race wondering if any of them will be a deciding factor in our victory.
"Whose number 2?" The coordinator shouts from behind the bar.
"We are," I say standing up waving my hand in the air.
"You guys placed first, congratulations!"
And with that the entire bar begins to applause us as I walk up to accept our trophies. Finally after 5 years of hard work, scouting and exercise, my buddy and I hold the title for 2005. A big weight is lifted off of my shoulders and I have a grin from ear to ear for the next 4 hours. I turn and hold up our trophies to show everyone in the bar and head back to our table to hand my partner his trophy. It may be a silly canoe race to most people, but for us, it was a lot more then that.
Will we keep the title next year? I don't know and I don't care, all I know is this year, we were the best, and frankly that’s all that matters to me right now.
This is my proudest post thus far
posted by Mr. Cheese @ 12:16 PM
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