I demand the best out of my competitors, and they do not disappoint, beating the snot and tar out of me month after month along the coasts of Connecticut, Rhode Island and Massachusetts (I’ve been told there’s something above the Commonwealth, haven’t been there yet).  They come in packs, from the clans of Lupinski, Lesher, Echols, Drayer, Costa and more.  I’ve often wondered if they’ve reproduced and stayed coastal, or ventured inland.  Curiosity bested me as it often does, and I made the trek westward to Holyoke, MA on 4 October to study and test the Connecticut River clans, which I found to be different.  Dostal, Vandorpe, Wendolowski and Melnikov issued me my beatings.  Henkel came in peace, so long as I didn’t throw too much water into her leak-proof craft (i.e. no bailer, no skirt).  Cummings teamed up and approached from behind, laboring with paddles that seemed to have been evenly broken into two pieces over the knee, blade on one end, stump on the other.  Others streamed in, more broken paddles than expected.

Race Start

Race Results below:

http://nayaugcanoerace.org/home.html

Intrigued by this new variety of paddlers, I headed west yet again on 18 October, this time in a different cloak:  New kayak (Epic V10L 2G in place of Stellar SES), new paddle with a bit smaller blade (Jantex Gamma Rio small+ in place of Jantex Gamma Medium), and further removed from my impressive vaporization and DNF at L2L.  I was followed to South Glastonbury, CT (for the 26th annual) by Melnikov, Henkel, Cummings and others, but no Browning, Van Dusen, Vandorpe (or Barry Vandingle).  This would prove to be the most serene and gorgeous starting area, with all paddlers driving nearly a half mile on a smooth tractor trail through fields of green to the river’s edge.  Unfortunately I arrived after the pancake breakfast, but I did spot a produce stand and well-stocked bakery less than a mile from the race start.  The muffins were quite good (apple and pumpkin and lemon poppy and carrot and zucchini and double chocolate, oh my!), as was the sweet corn and the sweet mama squash.

The race start was typical, most people pointed south (correct direction), a few pointed north as the gun went off, so to speak.  As an aside, why does it seem perfectly impossible for race starters to boldly issue a one minute warning followed 60 seconds later by “GO”?  Is it an American thing?  You cannot own a watch or honesty to be a starter?  I think we should more carefully study the gene pool of the potential race starter before selecting him or her.  Crikey!  You would think it was rocket science, eh?  Through experience, we’ve all been conditioned and have adopted the ‘Zero faith-Zero Trust’ policy with respect to race starters.  It takes form as the ‘Creep Effect’, with most everyone lined up and creeping forward over the start line, pretending they are in no violation of race rules even though the start line is some 50 meters behind them.  Wars have been waged over lesser violations.  Venting.  Over.

I stayed with tradition, wielding a Lesher start (i.e. not so speedy), and tucked in behind a half-blade team to try to get the juices flowing smoothly (as opposed to boiling them).  One thing about the course map that stuck in my mind like gum on shoe was “counter-clockwise”.  We would paddle with the current for a half mile, turn a ‘No Wake Zone’ buoy, head upriver for 4 miles, turn red buoy #126, then fly 3.5 miles downriver to the finish at a white buoy.

Isn’t it fascinating how foolproof it all seems when you’re looking at a professional aerial map?  Counter-clockwise, right?  Well, we ‘round the bend and wouldn’t you know there’d be two ‘No Wake Zone’ buoys.  One on the left positioned nicely for a counter-clockwise turn, and one on the right that looked dangerously close to shore.  As well, the one on the left would bring you up along the east bank where the spectators would be huddled.  No brainer.  I aimed for left, and everyone in front of me peeled right.  I yelled.  No response.  I was poised enough to take a lengthy moment to panic, and then decided that their pancakes were tainted.  I went left.  For the record, rumors flew that no one followed me and my route was 10 to 15 seconds shorter.  Smart.  Cheater.

After passing the start/finish and pumping up the pistons for the paparazzi, the upcoming left river bend made it prudent to be on the left side of the river, where every floating craft happened to be except for mine.  I casually drifted left, and found myself a good throwing distance ahead of everyone else.  And thus began my Markin-esque paddle of 6 miles more.  Truth be told, I much prefer paddling in the lead to paddling in the rear; much more relaxing for me even though my heart rate was no lower.  Speaking of, my heart rate was 170-175 for the first mile, 178-ish for the next two, 182-ish for the next three, and 185+ for the last half mile (I have a high lactate threshold for a 47 year old male.  That line works every time at the night clubs, by the way).  Unlike every other race I completed this year, I crossed the line strong and fast and recovered quickly.  A very good sign, and for all of the other geeks, newbies and curious folk like me who can never get enough detail:  My paddle length was 210cm (I’m 175cm tall with long limbs) and paddle offset was 75 degrees.  I’ve slowly increased the offset from 45 to 75 degrees, and it seems to have resulted in less shoulder and back fatigue and more usage of the abdominal muscles; a sensation of paddling more left-to-right (and right-to left) and less front to back.  Another big positive for me with 75 degrees offset is a cleaner catch and cleaner exit, especially on what was my not-so-clean control hand side.  Related, I’m not convinced at this point that 75 degrees will be best for ocean conditions, yet to be determined.  Also, my paddling cadence was 85 to 90spm.  Here’s another gem that I was gifted from Tim Dwyer:  After trying many different shaft wraps for moderate grip (and warmth in winter), one piece tennis overgrip (“WHATaGRIP”) is easily the best for me (but a bit tricky to install – you have to make sure it’s fully stretched in length).  It’s quite thin, which I like.  Oh, and for river racing I chopped my under stern rudder down on the mitre saw to 2.5 inches.  Combined with a weed guard I am weed-proof and much less worried about what may lay beneath the surface.  Ask Robin and Heidi about the joys of accumulating weeds on the Connecticut river.

Back to Markin-esque, a great place to be.  I was very pleased with my power and rhythm all the way to the red turn buoy #126, mile 3.75.  Things aren’t too exciting when you’re paddling in a pack of one, so you improvise.  With about 2 miles to go a wet leaf landed in such a way as to cover the entire face of my GPS.  I looked around suspiciously, wondering if Lupinski had placed it there.  I thought I could leave it, but I’m the guy that straightens books on shelves and pictures on walls in my dentist’s waiting room, and so I reached for it several times and finally offed it while, in the process, my bladder descended.  Into the river.  I called for an injury timeout, retrieved my hydration bladder and gathered myself for a final bout of frenetic uneventfulness.

Not long after said gathering, I spotted the white finish buoy.  Could it be?  Seemed too soon, but I didn’t want to be the first place dude that lollygagged over the line so I put in a commendable 500 meter surge to the buoy.  I yelled to what looked like two people on the bank, “Is that the finish?”.  No response came, followed immediately by a spotting of another white buoy 1,000 meters ahead with a group of cars near the bank to the left.  Yes, I remembered in a flash, we came by car (amazing how lactic acid tilts the brain, hence “full tilt”).  Thankfully I had one more surge in reserve, and I unleashed it like a ‘Cseke’ (well, maybe like half a Cseke; like an eke, perhaps).

It was not the day to exact revenge on the (absent) Vandorpe and Wendolowski clans, but apparently Melnikov was rather intimidated by my new kayak and paddle and conversations with dead people, and chose to stay a safe distance behind.  A good day.  A win for my dad on his birthday, and Heidi test-paddled my V10L, so maybe she’ll find a used surfski on www.surfskiracing.com and give Mary Beth some coastal competition.  Girl’s got moves!

Next?  Gonna try to win me some P-O-T-A-T-O-E-S, and visit the Reinertsen clan (2 November.  Hey Andrius and Greg, race starts at 12pm.  Everyone else, 11am).  I’ll be the one in the white boat.