June 27th - Saranac Flatwater Challenge
June 12th - Madrid Flatwater
June 5th - ARC 9 Miler (Tupper Lake)
May 16th - 'Round the Mountain
April 25th - The Cortland YMCA Canoe Classic
March 20th - The Icebreaker
Off Season
 

June 27th - Saranac Flatwater Challenge

Another points race and the third race in a month, it doesn't get much better than this !
(That's easy for me to say, I'm not the one watching the twins - not that they're any trouble mind you, but...)

It's been a long time since I did this race. I dare say I was in the inaugural race and the 2nd annual, but haven't raced here since and this is the 10th annual. Digging through my racing archives, I did come up with the results from the second annual (1994). I don't know what the course length was, but I know we won (Greg MacConnell) C-2 Men, and according to a handwritten note from Mike, we set the course record for our class.

Weather was great - for me anyhow. It was sunny but cool with a fierce wind. There is no misnomer with the race title. It's a challenging 15 miles course - 7.5 down then back up river. I don't have a GPS, so I don't know how accurate the distance is, but I do know that up river into the wind for the last half of the race will take its toll.

There was nothing remarkable about how the race started or the first few miles from where I sat. The kayakers in front of me were the same ones that had been there for the last few races anyway. Ditto for the ones behind.

But then, without any warning, I got passed. Not by my buddy mind you, but by someone I didn't expect. I watched him go by and there was nothing I could do about it. He dropped me in a matter of minutes. OK, he is a good paddler and has a fast boat, but it's only been a couple of weeks and I haven't slacked off. Could he have gotten that much better that fast ? Is it the conditions ? Does he have some kind of advantage that I missed ? Aaarrrggghh.  He didn't get out of site, but settled in about 40 yards ahead. Occasionally I closed it to 20 or so, but could get no closer.

As we approached the turn, we were at the spot on the course where the river is its widest and the wind whips down unobstructed. The advantage started to swing in my direction. I made up the remaining distance and hit the buoy turn right on his six. I took full advantage of the rocker and lack of length of my boat and was able to make the turn much sharper than he could. I sprinted out of the turn into the teeth of the wind and right up the middle of the river. After the adrenaline subsided, I regained focus, got to the bank and started working the river like I was supposed to. I could see a kayak in front of me and I was pretty sure that I had made significant gains through the patch of open water.

As we went winding up river, the race within the race took on its on personality. When we were exposed or in more current, I was able to make up ground. When the wind died or the current was less evident the distance grew. And so it went for several miles until I did finally catch him. We paddled together for a while, but I was running low on steam and it seemed that all the windy wild sections were at our backs. I bid him farewell and that was that.

I finished with all I had left, and could not have been happier to get out of the boat. 2:19:06 was good enough for second in my class and since it was my first time racing kayak division in this race, another personal best.

I shouldn't write this here, but the thought had occurred to me that perhaps buying an actual touring class kayak expressly for racing may be a good thing. There was a gentleman at the race with two kayaks for sale one unlimited and one touring. The touring was a West Side EFT (a boat I had on my short list). As much as I wanted to try it out, I really didn't want to get back into any boat at this time, and thought of possibly swimming was just more than I was looking for today.
 

June 12th - Madrid Flatwater

Racing back to back weekends...YAHOO...the racing season is in full swing. And this one's a points race !!!

It's a little strange that I have never done this race. It's not too far from where I live now or from where I lived up north; but for some reason, I just didn't do it.

I don't mean to bore you, but it was another great day for racing. Warm, but not hot and just the slightest breeze.

After registering, we walked around to get a good look at the course. The race starts below a dam. You paddle down river, do a buoy turn, and come back up to the dam. You then carry around the dam, paddle up river, turn around an island and come down river. The finish is above the dam. We wasted a little time by not asking the about "exact course", and jumped to an incorrect conclusion about the carry. There were several marks on the street and pavement at the end of the grassy section below the dam. All indication were that we would be carrying over a bridge and putting in on the opposite side of the river. After walking the assumed carry a couple of times and several minutes of discussing what a bad idea it was to have to carry over a bridge. We met some racers that had done the course and assured us that we would shoot straight across the road. Whew, no need to be concerned about slipping on the bridge sand.

We walked the carry route another two times, and it seemed pretty reasonable. A nice grassy field with a slight incline that had been mowed short led to the road. We go over the road, down a short paved section, over a short grassy section, and into the water. Not a hard carry by any stretch.

As we walked along the grassy field, we looked at lines coming through the water and up the slope. Which was the best route to carry. At some point, the conversation took an unusual turn, and the topic of dragging the boat came up. I know the kayak is "only" plastic, but I have always been pro-carry or anti-drag if you will. The statement and subsequent question posed to me that rattled around in my head throughout the first part of the race was elegant in it's simplicity "You would take any advantage you could find on the water - waking power boats, canoes and other kayaks, cut shallow corners if you had a decent line, anything that will give you an edge. Why wouldn't you take advantage of having a plastic boat ?"

The way the water came through the dam made the start very interesting. There was a lot of current on the far left side of the starting line (that's where I wanted to be). The thing was that the current was so strong that several boats were having difficulty staying out there and remaining behind the line. The majority of kayaks, especially the unlimited ones, where closer to the middle or right side, tucked safely in the eddy. With the generous length of the starting line, the touring and unlimited kayaks were able to start at the same time. I think it's a plus for the touring boats, a little extra incentive. But the unlimited paddlers probably like seeing us out there and reeling us in...oh well.

Now I may be wrong here, but I swear for about three or four strokes I was actually in the lead. I think that the current and my quickness off the line was perceptible - maybe not. If I ws in the lead it was due to my location in the current, and I wasn't about to abandon my line. As the procession of unlimiteds passed to my right, closely followed by a few touring kayaks that jumped their wake, I slowly realized I was alone on the left and the current had dissipated. I enjoyed no advantage and was too far left to catch the express train as it went by. Aaarrrggghhhh. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I love this sport, and have come to accept certain things, but I dislike making tactical mistakes. Nothing to do but settle into a good strong pace, grind it out, and try and pick off the trailing boat.

There was no change in positioning (at least as far as I knew), from the first mile, around the turn and halfway back to the portage. That's where my buddy passed me and motioned for me to jump on and start working with him to catch the stragglers. I must say, I liked the plan, but wasn't able to stay with him for long. I kept working, trying to remember the down river run to get clean ferries across and avoid the suck water. I wasn't gaining, but I wasn't falling off any more. I caught some good rides from passing canoes, and could definitely see I was making up ground. As the take out came into view, it was clear my buddy was positioning himself for the area he reconned earlier. I had no preference, so I just pushed hard onto the wet grass and popped out of my boat.

Jim and Tim, I take back half of what I said about dragging your boats - see the photos from 2001.

Yup, I got out and dragged. Not running, but moving at a decent clip. I stopped at the road to put it on my shoulder. (Plastic or not, the kayak has a soul, and dragging it across the pavement just wouldn't be right.) There was my buddy right behind me. He could have passed me while I was lifting the kayak, but that "would not have been sporting." We jogged to the put in, him to his pre-scouted spot, me a little further up river to an open area not really suited to kevlar and carbon boats. I was off in a heart beat and began counting. I figured it would take him and extra 15 to 20 seconds to get into his boat, and that would translate to between 8 and 10 minutes to catch me.

I passed rec boats and had C2s passing me, but no kayak. As I waited, I was slowly, but noticeably gaining on a touring kayak. Oh sure, I knew who it was and he's not in my class, but I still wanted to catch him. I was thinking about how much race was left and what I needed was a little help. There wouldn't be a power boat, but maybe two or three C2s could give me the lift I needed. This was where my second mental lapse of the day came. For just a few moments really, I went back to wondering where my buddy was. He have caught me by now. When the first C2 went by, I hardly noticed. I could here the huts coming up behind me, but I was in a fog. They went right by me. I missed the wake all together. I barely snapped out of it in time to catch a 30 second ride from the next one. Aaarrggghhh.

All the way to the island, and still no buddy. I was still getting closer, but I was running out of race and desperately needed some help. And help I got; in the form of a C2 mixed team with the hammer down. I was almost dropped on the turn, but I took an inside line, can turn on a dime, and took full advantage of the shallow water waves. I got on their six and managed to get within a few boat lengths before being dropped. The finish line in sight, I thought maybe...

Nope, he caught some of the C2 wake, and that was that. I finished with nothing left in the tank, nothing left in the Camelback, and nothing but questions for my buddy. (It turns out he had a little trouble getting back into his boat and took a quick swim.)

The performance was good enough for a second place finish (1 :34:44). There may be a theme here, but since it was my first time racing the course - another personal best.
 

June 5th - ARC 9 Miler (Tupper Lake)

***According to two GBS boaters, the actual length was 7.5 miles which will make the time seem more reasonable. This was not a points race, so there were some notable absenses from the usual cast of characters.

Another great day for racing. The water was not as fast moving as last year, but the sky was blue, the wind was light, and it beats the heck out of working.

A new wrinkle for today is my buddy got himself a new touring kayak. Yes, he was going to race a Touring class boat in the Touring class.

The start was uncharacteristic for me. I wasn't on the line at the start, I didn't put the hammer down, and I didn't contend for the lead at any point. Rec boat in Touring class, Rec boat in Touring Class, Rec boat in Touring class...Anyway, I got in behind someone I knew to be a faster paddler, but the MO of these guys seems to be slow deliberate strokes until they get moving. Unfortunately, that is not my style, and once these guys get moving I cannot hang with them in these kinds of conditions (real flat water).

I found myself in what is apparently my new usual situation 6+ boats off the lead (this time I think it was eight). I did have visual on the two boats in front of me the whole race, and at one point actually thought I had managed to reel one in, but his recovery phase ended and that one boat lead quickly doubled; then doubled again.

Again, I felt like my head was in the race from start to finish. I want to believe that this up class racing is making me work harder and focus more. Maybe it's the new workout schedule. Years of racing experience ? Just dumb luck ? It's a good thing at least some of these people know me, otherwise they might get the idea I didn't know what class my boat really was.

That said, today was luck and lots of 50 and over guys. My time was 1:08:41 and that was good enough for first place in the Mens under 50 category. It's also another personal best.

May 16th - 'Round the Mountain

The 'Round the Mountain was another point series race, so once again, it is important to keep focused and try and see if the training between races is going to pay off. I have modified my schedule, hoping to stay fresher and avoid inflaming any ailments from last year. Paddle three times a week and try to run (jog) twice a week. This will be interesting also since it will be the first time competing in the Touring class in a race I know against familiar paddlers. Well, the touring class paddlers aren't familiar, but the sea/rec category is.

Once again, the Ampersand Bay Resort and Boat Club, on Lower Saranac Lake, hosted the race start. They are great hosts and makes it so much easier to park, get the boats set-up, and launched.

One of the advantages I see to racing Touring class is the start order. Touring starts near the end of the heats while the sea/rec kayaks usually go off first. While these extra boats do provide obstacles, they can provide motivation, allow you to see better lines, and my personal favorite - wakes to ride.

The weather was great; cool and a little overcast. A light wind blowing right into the bay at the start had me on the fence about wearing a skirt. It's too long of a race to be carrying a couple of pounds of lake water. In the end, I went without one (on some sound advice) and was very happy about the decision.

I started out fast, but "fast in a rec boat" is not exactly the same as "fast". Welcome to Touring class, sucker ! I was a little surprised by the number of boats in the class and how well everyone seemed to get off the line. I was in third, then fourth, fifth, sixth, and finally settled into seventh about 1/4 mile into the race.

I caught an enormous break while in the open water about a mile after the start - a power boat went by. A wake to good to pass up. I surfed for all I was worth and made up a huge chunk of the distance between myself and the next closest Touring kayaks. As I was gaining speed on each crest, they were preparing braces to prevent from tipping. Unfortunately, the waves ran out and in the leigh of the island, those boats began extending their lead once again.

I was able to keep visual contact for almost the entire race (turns and carry excluded), but there weren't enough boats on the lake to give me a shot at picking up a place. The only questions were how many were women and how many were 50 and over. I knew at best I would be second since the winner of the Cortland race had easily beaten me again.

I was pleased with the time (1:48:42 - personal best for the course) and a third place finish was also rewarding. And while I shouldn't compare apples and oranges, I was pleased to see my time was faster than my sea/rec brethren.

 
April 25th - The Cortland YMCA Canoe Classic

The reason for doing the Cortland Race this year was based on which races were chosen to be part of the NYMCRA Points Series Races. I didn't do any Series racing in 2003 or 2002, and in 2001 I only did enough races to qualify for the NECRA Downriver Series, not the Flatwater Series. Anyway, I think I have a reasonable shot at hitting the five race minimum, the real problem is that there is no Points Series for the "Sea / Recreational Kayak Class", so I'll be competing in the "Touring Class"; and a manufacturer's definition of touring is vastly different from USCA definitions.

I won't be the only one racing up a class, but a 14' 7" long, 24.5" wide, plastic kayak will certainly stand out in a class that has a maximum length of 20', a minimum width at the 4" waterline of 18" and no material restrictions. I expect lots of long, narrow, composite boats and men wielding wing paddles. Should make for an interesting season.

It's my first time doing the Cortland Y race. (It seems a little odd since the race is only 40 minutes from my house, but it does compete with the Run of the Charles in Boston - a favorite of mine.) The first sharp contrast to the usual routine was being able to sleep in, followed by not having do a four hour drive, and the realization that there would be no one to ride with to the race and back. OK, we met for breakfast and hung out for an hour before the race, but I'd definitely miss the company and conversation on the ride home. Sorry, but I like rehashing the race on the way home; discussing trouble spot; things to remember for next year; who had good days; all that stuff. Oh well.

The registration was well planned. Lots of people pre-registering (they got T-shirts). And the course description was pretty accurate: 17 miles of twisting river with class I and II water. There wasn't much class I, and even less class II. But, there was a long winding river with reasonable flow from start to finish.

We got there early, and dropped my truck at the finish to shuttle back to the start at the end of the race. This is a basic maneuver. People do it all the time. Yet somehow I managed to leave both my hats and both pairs of my gloves in my truck - rookie mistake. My friend was a little better off. He just forgot to leave his bag of dry clothes at the finish.

Before I get any further with this tale, I going up on the soap box. Please keep the following in mind during this little rant:
    1. I strongly encourage everyone to try competitive paddling - canoe and/or kayak racing.
    2. I do believe the best way to get better at an activity is to occasionally push your limits.
 

 It was great to see so many people there to race. It was great that wearing PFDs was mandatory. It wasn't great to see inexperienced paddlers "swimming" in the river, or boats and paddles floating in the river. Fortunately, the river was shallow and not too fast moving. Wet jeans and sweatshirts is not fun in June in Central NY, never mind April. With a course that long, it is scary to think about the obstacles emergency crews would need to overcome to rescue injured paddlers if a boat is listed as DNF. It was a cold day with sleet giving way to driving rain. I've seen paddlers pulled out of the early spring waters when I raced downriver - dazed, confused, and unable to get warm fast enough. It doesn't take long for hypothermia to set in. No offense, but maybe this wasn't the best day or distance to try racing or a new boat. I'm not saying experienced racers don't dump, they are usually just better prepared or less likely.

If you skipped the rant, sleet gave way to rain for the start of the race, and depending on when you started, it may have been a driving rain while you were on the course. I mentioned I left the hats and gloves in the truck, so it was decision time on what else to wear. As you might imagine, I have all kinds of paddling clothes; pretty much everything from a 6mm wet suit to your standard fast drying nearly weightless polyester T-shirt. I put the paddling jacket on for the racer's meeting because of the sleet. I love my paddling jacket. Loose on the body, snug at the openings, keeps me nice and dry, but breathable it ain't. It's great for short workouts in the rain. Excellent for 5 mile downriver races. But the thought of wearing the paddling jacket for more than two hours of racing was not something I would relish.

The only other jacket I brought was a wind breaker - and not a waterproof one. So the choices were dry and overheated or cold and wet. I chose the latter.

The worst part of this race was the waiting to start. Boats were sent out one at a time at fixed intervals - just like a downriver race. The problem was I hadn't pre-registered, and when it was all said and done, it was about 40 minutes of on the water before I got off the starting line. I stayed under the bridge to keep out of the light rain, only occasionally drifting forward to hear the numbers being called and get a good look at the sky.

I was feeling pretty good about the course (except the length) at the start. I definitely think that the one year of downriver racing I did paid dividends for this race. While reading rivers isn't my strong suit, I have a good sense of where not to be. I saw a number of people being introduced to Eddy and genuine surprise as I screamed by on what seemed to me to be the obvious line. To me, one of the best thing about racing in moving water is a certain level of concentration that needs to be maintained (it's easier to forget about being tired when you're concerned about good lines, eddies, and dodging other paddlers).

I was pleasantly surprised by both my time (2:03:29) and my place (2nd out of 10) in the K-1 Touring Mens Under 50 category. The time was a little slower than actual. I did take time to shepherd a wayward aluminum canoe to the river bank, toss the paddle on shore, and grab their seat cushion.

So far, so good...two races, two places.

 
March 20th - The Ice Breaker

It's the Ice Breaker. I have low expectations. This race kicked my butt for the last two years, and I'm not sure that it won't be three in a row. I'm not sure how ready I am for this season, and with the inevitable question the night before "Are you sure you want to do this ?", the season begins.

Welcome season number two of having someone to ride to race with and compete against !!! My training partner finished last year strong, anchoring a team in the Great Race triathlon. He's primed and ready for this season, although it's all just training exercises for the Great Race this year.

The first important note is that I did learn from the last two years; I brought the Voyager not the MI-415. Tom 1 - Ice Breaker 0. Of course, the race is still six hours from now. That's four hours of driving and two hours of watch the river go by, drinking water, and running back and forth to the bathroom - at least that was my plan. The Saranac had other plans. The water was low, really low. For the first time in the race's history, the course would need to be changed. The start was moved from behind the Town Hall to the normal finish line, and the turn around was moved an additional 1/2 mile down river. Instead of three miles down and two miles up, we would be racing 2 1/2 miles each way. Tom 1 - Ice Breaker 1; and the race hasn't even started.

Now to say I'm a creature of habit is a bit of an understatement when it comes to racing, and particular races that I know. I had my required amount of coffee, I  had already had my hot cakes, and I was ready to begin my hydration routine. Except now we aren't starting behind the Town Hall. There weren't bathrooms right here at the start. There could be no mad dash after the racer's meeting to use the facilities one last time. All those years of routine gone in flash. Sure, I did the 1/2 mile walk once to the Town Hall, but there was no way I would be able to drink the full 64oz of water - this was very disheartening.

As for the race, we each had our game plan. He would go out smooth and steady, get into his groove, and put all that offseason training and 5+ times on the water to good use. I would come out fast (like I always do), run out of gas, and try to hold on to a respectable finish.

Because of the location of the starting line, fewer boats were able to start in a given heat, so the recreational kayaks were split into three heats. Since we had registered at the same time, we ended up in the same heat. And because we were chronically early, we were in the first heat. Now, I hate to score that one for the river, but I definitely prefer a mass start for boats of the same class. I like knowing who is ahead of me and if the guy that just passed me will be taking home "my" hardware (award for 1st, 2nd, or 3rd place finish). Reluctantly, it's Tom 1 - Ice Breaker 2.

The race went pretty much as expected except my buddy didn't start off smooth and easy. He came flying out off the chute and had the lead early. I was not expecting that, but I held second. That is until I inadvertently bumped him as we approached the forewarned rock just below the surface a mere 50 feet or so from the starting line. I don't think I got more than a boat length or two ahead or held the lead for any appreciable amount of time, but maybe 3/4 to a mile. I could hear the breathing coming up on my left, offered words of encouragement, and watched as he passed. Once by me, it was he who was shouting word of encouragement to me.

He got about six boat lengths ahead before I felt like I had settled into a reasonable rhythm. All I wanted to do was keep him in view. Just focus on him and try to match his stroke rate; block out all that other stuff and just paddle. That worked pretty well. I caught a break at one point by picking a better spot in the river - that being a place with more than a foot of water. I had close to within about three boat lengths, but could get no closer.

I felt good, and as the minutes ticked by without the normal flood of boats passing me, it was beginning to sink in that I was having a very good race. The half way point came and went without incident - well there were no collisions anyway. The problem with overtaking slower boats (read less experienced paddlers) is that they can sometimes really mess up your line. I don't think it was of any consequence, but I probably lost a few seconds in the turn.

I was about half a mile later that I was passed by a rec kayak. I could tell from his bid number that he had not been in our heat, and judging by the number of boats, and our ages, we were not competing in the same class. Still, a good chance to work on technique. I was able to draft him for quite a while, sometimes dropping off, but catching up again because of a better line or another boat to draft. I stayed with him and slowly the gap between myself and my buddy was closing. Was there enough race left and did I have enough in my tank to make a serious run ?

The answer was NO on both accounts. I'm not sure what happened. Maybe he picked up the pace, maybe I lost focus for a few seconds, maybe his line was a little better than mine, or maybe he had better conditioning and a faster boat, but I was off his wake and there couldn't have been more than a 100 yards left. I didn't let up and finished strong. Not knowing where the other kayaks from heats two and three were, I had no idea what to expect.

Well, that's not exactly true. I knew there would be some great coffee, cookies, and chicken broth at the finish line and I could use the boost.

My buddy finished first (by :03) and I ended up with third (30 seconds behind the winner). With the course change, I can't compare it to previous years, but I know that the Voyager was the right boat, and I felt much better than previous years.
 
 

 
The Offseason :
 

OK, it wasn't a true offseason. With the relatively few races I managed to compete in last year, it's not like I needed the time off. However, I had paddled many more hours last year than in years previous and I  had been using a number of different paddles and boats during the year. This led to a rather annoying condition - tendonitis. Which was a nice compliment to my carpal tunnel. Now, throw in a couple of squirming one year olds, and you have nonstop pain and injury aggravation. It's a good thing they learned to walk and prefer that to being carried (most days anyway).

Like last year, there was no "usual" offseason training. I got out on the water one day, and ran (let's say more like jogged with a purpose) a good four or five times. Surprisingly those 9.9 grams of carbs per 12 fluid ounces of Guinness didn't seem to adversely effect my weight. It looks like I'll start this year in virtually the same place as last year. Although, I'm told that at my age I lose approximately 1% of my ability each year. I'm not too worried about that yet since I'm nowhere near my theoretical maximum of my abilities. Of course, on the off chance that I've already peaked, this may be a long disappointing season.