Things were looking up. The forecast for race day was for rain somewhat later in the afternoon, but nothing in the morning. This would be a welcome change from the previous couple of days when it rained off and on all day.
Early Saturday morning a light drizzle was falling. My son helped load the Cadence onto the car, and left me to load the rest of the gear. I guess I tend to overpack, as this included three foam seat cushions, a canoe paddle, a PFD preloaded with emergency gear, bike shoes, water shoes, tow rope, bungy cords to secure said canoe paddle, water bottle, water proof boat utility box, camera, GPS, cell phone and waterproof holder, a change of clothing, extra jacket, a genuine Sound Rowers KAVU cap, my "cool" hat, sunglasses, sunscreen lotion, roller wheels for the roof rack and the boat dolly.
Of course, the dolly, utility box, roller wheels and extra clothing stay with the car during the race. However, I could probably start thinking about not taking the paddle and bungies along on the short lake races.
The misty rain seemed to be letting up a bit, though it was still rather cool with the temperatures in the lower 50's.
It was a quick, uneventful drive to Medina Beach Park, located on the eastern shores of Lake Washington opposite the middle of Seattle.
The race was scheduled to start at 10 AM. I foolishly thought that getting to the park by 8:30 AM would let me get a parking spot close to the walkway down through the park to the beach. Ha! The lot was near capacity and there were but a few places left. I quickly snagged one and started unloading.
The remaining spots were taken in the next 5 minutes. People coming later had to find parking on adjacent streets.
I loaded everything I needed into the Cadence cockpit and wheeled it down the park path towards the beach. The park itself was getting covered with boats, but there was still room near the ramp to the beach.
Registration was in full swing. Volunteers wearing thick winter parkas, woolen gloves and warm hats were taking money and completed registration forms from racers wearing lightweight tights or shorts, wind breakers and T-shirts. I paid the $7 Sound Rowers member race fee and in return got a boat number, some duct tape to secure it to the hull, and the promise of a tasty lunch after the race. Ok, so there were also bowls of M&M's and some other munchies set out. It is better to eat after the race!
The drizzle came and went, and people pretty much ignored it. After all, this is the Pacific NorthWet, and such weather was to be expected. However, the wind was starting to pick up a little, and the once placid waters of Lake Washington were starting to exhibit some chop.
Eventually it was time for the pre-race meeting. Adrian Storb handled all the announcements with aplomb, this being the first time he handled it on his own.
There were actually three races being held today. The first two, consisting of short (6.25 mile) and long (14 mile) courses, were to start simultaneously. The short race heads down to the I-90 high bridge connecting Bellevue to Mercer Island and returns. The long race continues south, goes around Mercer Island and returns after passing under the I-90 eastern high rise connection to the floating bridge.
The third race was a fun race to start after the first two races had completed.
Unlike most races, after the pre-race meeting almost no one headed to the water to launch their boats. Perhaps people were a feeling a bit chilled, damp or unwilling to get out on the water as rapidly as in previous races. Regardless, I was one of the first to get on my water shoes, wheel the Cadence down into the water and prepare to head out.
Well, almost from the start I had a disaster. Rather than do my normal reverse pedal out into deep water, I decided that the choppy water would be best met more or less head on. I turned the boat so it was now parallel to the beach, and found that other boats were starting to get into the water. This made it difficult to turn all the way around, and the chop was making it tough to prevent the propeller from hitting the bottom in the wave troughs. So I quickly boarded when suddenly the wake from a passing yacht began lifting the boat up and towards the shore!
It was about all I could do to keep my balance, with my hands holding a pair of bike shoes and the camera. My brain seemed to freeze--should I drop everything and jump out? Were the other boats going to be mashed by my boat? Was my boat going to be smashed against the rocks along the beach? Yikes!
A couple of folks noticed my predicament and rushed to my aid. Greg Gilda managed to keep the stern of the boat from smashing into the submerged rocks (Thank YOU, Greg!), and another person helped keep the bow from some other boats along the shore. Whew!
Just as soon as the waves had passed, so had the emergency. I quickly pedaled out into deeper water and put on my bike shoes. This was not a great start for a race!
For some reason my balance did not seem as good today. In fact, it seemed that several people were having problems, as at least one racer was dumped from his boat during warmup exercises prior to the race. Somehow he was not noticed, or had apparently turned down offers of assistance, until I shouted "Man Overboard!". At this time some other paddlers were able to convince him he and his boat should be towed back to shore.
Unlike most previous races this year I actually had lots of time to cruise around, take pictures and warm up. I was feeling pretty good, and seemed to be getting back into the groove. The light rain was not a problem, except for the droplets on the camera lens, and my bright red woolen leg warmers were just the ticket to keeping my warm and comfy.
After what seemed to be quite a long time the two minute warning was given. Everyone more or less went to where they thought the starting line was and prepared to go. This time I had the GPS all set, my shoes clicked onto the pedals, and the camera (with a lengthened neck strap) at the ready. I could feel the adrenaline pumping into my bloodstream.
We were off!
As usual, there was quite a bit of wet mayhem. Paddles splashed water furiously into the air, rowers did the best they could to maneuver their oars through whatever open spaces they could find, and the lone pedal boat had its occupant pumping his legs like pistons and his head and hands turning this way and that taking pictures of everything he could.
With such dark skies it was actually possible to make out objects with the camera's LCD viewfinder. Well, it was possible if I took a bit of time and concentrated. Unfortunately that seemed to slow me down a bit in the pedaling department. Sigh....
It was hard to see the GPS display. The backlight was off in order to save on the batteries. Rain on the carrying case, condensation inside and glare from the sky all conspired to prevent me from seeing how much faster than 6 mph I was going. Oh, well. It was recording the track with a sample every 0.01 mile traveled. After returning home my PC could figure out my performance every step of the way.
The chop seemed to be slowing everyone down, or at least everyone but the outrigger canoes and the supermen athletes in the HPK's and surfskis. A couple of waves managed to almost make it into the cockpit.
I decided to follow behind one OC-1 that was going the same speed. After all, why work hard when you don't have to? His slipstream would help pull me along, and his boat would make the water smoother as well.
Well, it turns out he managed to speed off while I was snapping pictures. Rats! Meanwhile, Steve Wells was nearing me in his Maas Aero rowing shell, so I decided to try tailing him instead.
This was working out reasonably well, until I decided to take more photos. I was pedaling at a more or less constant rate while snapping pictures when all of a sudden my boat clunked into the Aero's stern. Oops! I apologized to Steve, who didn't say a word. I don't think he was happy with me.
Physically I was feeling pretty good. My breathing was rapid, but steady. My legs were feeling strong and the breeze from the south was working well to keep me from overheating - especially once I slid my leg warmers down to my ankles.
As we entered the more protected waters of East Mercer Channel, which is located due west of the skyscrapers of downtown Bellevue and about a quarter of the way into the short course, the chop diminished considerably. Except for a couple of guys with "Contest" signs on their backs out in their fishing boats, and the occasional passing motor yacht, we had the water all to ourselves.
About this time my head began pounding. Recognizing possible danger signs I decided to reduce my pedaling effort a bit. Goodbye, Steve!
An OC-1 and a Junior in a fast canoe came up on my left side. I tried keeping up with them, but with my headache I just couldn't do it. Wow! That kid can move!
I was on my own for a while as my head recovered. A couple of other shells slowly passed, and eventually I found a guy in a yellow OC-1 that I could tail for a while. We stayed together until we reached the last pylon under the I-90 bridge, when I decided to slow down again.
Even though I saw that a half dozen boats were ahead of me on the short course, and untold numbers ahead on the long course, it still surprised me how many boats had yet to make it to the I-90 bridge. I cheered them on and took many photos, hoping that some of them would turn out.
On the return leg the headwind turned into a tailwind. Well, it effectively was a dead calm, as I was moving about as fast as the breeze. I was getting quite hot. Thank goodness there was this nice cool water within arm's reach!
At this point it seemed that a pace of about 6.5 mph was a happy medium. Unfortunately, this meant that some of the racers were slowly catching up. However, as luck would have it, a motor yacht came along going the same direction and passed nearby. I was able to cross over its westward wake and surf the eastward wake for quite a distance.
It was rather interesting keeping my balance as the propeller and rudder were periodically out of the water, but with this technique I was able to increase my speed at least 1 mph with very little additional effort.
The other boats did not seem to be taking advantage of the wake. Perhaps they felt there was not enough to gain.
The camera was something of a problem, however. Other than when it was placed on the floor of the cockpit it just kept getting in the way of my pedaling. I tried balancing it between my PFD and the canoe paddle on my arm, but it kept falling to one side or the other. Eventually I just kept it on the cockpit floor between photo ops, hoping that the plastic bag enclosure would protect it from the water splashing about the bottom of the cockpit.
Eventually the wake petered out and I was back to my old pace. An OC-1 and an OC-2 caught up and seemed to be pacing both each other and me. I did my best to keep up with them, but decided for some reason not to tail them. We stayed pretty much neck and neck for quite some time, until they slowly began veering off slightly towards the west. I decided to continue straight to where I thought the closest point of the finish line was located.
I was pedaling faster now, with sweat dripping from my brow. Pushing the crank with one foot while pulling with the other seemed to help obtain a little more speed, but it seemed to more rapidly wear out my muscles. It also seemed to create more of a dead zone during the times when my legs changed direction. Perhaps some sort of load leveling device would be helpful here!
The OC-1 and OC-2 seemed to be picking up their paces as well. I was unable to catch them before they crossed the finish line. Finally, with a time of 57:52 I crossed the line as well. A year earlier in a Cadence with no camera, no chop, and no headache I was only about a minute and 30 seconds faster.
Unlike the previous weekend, however, I continued pedaling after the race. Going back over the short course at a very leisurely rate of 2 to 3 mph I continued taking photos of the other racers. Somehow, it seemed that most of the photographs I took of guys in their boats ended up with their hands or paddles in front of their faces. Most of the photos taken of women in their boats turned out unobstructed. I have got to work on my timing...
After cruising back towards downtown Bellevue I then proceeded over to the west side of Mercer Island in the hopes of meeting the first of the long course racers. A pace of 6 mph felt pretty comfortable, and the chop present earlier in the day had dissipated. The sky began to drip a little from time to time, but my Kavu cap kept most of it from my glasses.
My estimate as to when the first long course racers would arrive was right on target. Adrian and Rainer Storb appeared in their double rowing shell, with Greg Barton paddling like a madman right on their tail. It turned out that Greg had followed the shell all the way around the island, and then in the final stretch toward the finish line after these pictures were taken he poured on the speed and managed to finish in first place!
I tried following the Adrian, Rainer and Greg, but there was no way I could keep up with them. After a while I slowed down, turned around and prepared for the next racers. It was a short wait for Jeff and Teresa Knakal's double rowing shell to arrive.
Again, I attempted a short sprint, taking photos, getting dropped and waiting for the next racers. It was then time to head to shore - after all, I wanted to make sure there were some hot sausages left for me!
Just prior to reaching shore I put on my water shoes, jumped out of the boat and waded to shore. After quickly retrieving the dolly from its resting place on the lawn I put it under the Cadence and towed them from the water to a resting place up on the hillside.
After returning the boat number to the registration table I partook of a very tasty hot German sausage, sauerkraut, pretzels and cold soft drinks. It really hit the spot!
Eventually, though, I decided to take off my PFD, put on a dry sweatshirt, dry socks and shoes, nylon pants and a jacket. I was still pretty toasty from the racing, but thought the intermittent drizzle and cold breeze could turn me into a hypothermia case before too long.
The third race started before I knew it. This race was for people to try to move their boat in reverse along a course, around a buoy and return to the start. The prize for first place was a traveling trophy consisting of an acrylic handled toilet plunger.
Maybe I'll be more attentive next year.
After waiting in vain some time for the last long racer to arrive Adrian presented the awards. Greg Barton received a special plastic hot dog in a bun along with his blue ribbon for his winning time of 1:43:21. The winners of the short course, Rick Peterson and Sam Lowe in their double, had a time of 46:23.
During the awards ceremony the last racer in from the long course finished with a time of just under three hours. She had not been feeling well after having been involved in a bicycling accident a week or two earlier, but went for the long course anyway. When she arrived at the shore I helped her carry her equipment to the lawn. She looked beat - which is probably how I would have also looked if I had tried doing the long race.
Overall, even with the return of typical Seattle weather, I had a great time with pleasant company, good food and a fun boat.
Total distance traveled: about 11.25 miles.
For the full set of photos, take a look here.