2004 March 20 Hidden Falls with 35 mph gusts

March 20, 2004

The flags were straight out and rattling in the 25 plus mile per hour wind, the temperature was in the thirties, and we were paddling at Hidden Falls again.  Maybe the last weekend before we migrate to the Rum River because the ice was turning dark and these winds would probably break it up.  Being narrower and curvier than the Mississippi and Minnesota, the Rum offers more protection from the winds and more variety.  Today was a longer practice day.  Everyone else was showing up at 9am and I was uncharacteristically early.  When I pulled into the lot at 8:30am, Al’s red pickup truck and empty canoe rack told me that he was already out on the river.  He was training for the 70 mile General Clinton Race in May.  Many other racers were paddling at Gene Jensen’s winter place on spring fed rivers in Inverness, Florida with the manatees.

No manatees for us today.  We faced 35 mile per hour gusts swathed in polar fleece and wool.  Early spring practices were also reunions of good friends who hadn’t seen each other for several months.  Some had spent the winter cross country skiing, some did 8 pound medicine ball workouts for 2 hours every Friday, while I had only played basketball occasionally.  Not enough to keep a 48 year old in peak physical condition. Today was Becca’s first time out this year and she was paddling with Keith Canny who wanted to paddle for at least 4 hours.  She’s a triathlete in great condition and could handle this tough workout better than me.  Becca was learning the stern and it was only her second season of canoe racing, so Keith and Becca’s canoe was swerving a bit.  But she picked it up after a while and they were able to hold onto a side wake without getting sucked into the leading canoe. 

We had circled back to pick up Dave and Jason since Jason had just gotten back in town from 35 hours of paddling in Florida and didn’t think he would have a partner.  The cloudy sky only gave us 2 short glimpses of sun along a 15 foot tall muddy bank on the Minnesota.  But they were very welcome glimpses.  We surprised a beaver that scrambled down the mud slope and splashed desperately into the brown water next to Keith and Becca’s canoe.  We also sighted mallards, a colorful buffle-head duck and it’s mate, red-tailed hawks, and eagles. 

I found out that I was once again the weakest link in the pack in terms of physical conditioning.  Ed & Brett Arenz, Al Dubois & Tom Gardner, Kevin Shriver & Io Harberts, Keith Canny & Becca Jones, Dave Dahl & Jason Larsen were all in good condition, along with Sarah Kueffer.  Sarah Kueffer and I were able to keep up with the faster canoes (Ed & Brett and Dave & Jason) for the first 2 and ½ hours during the intermittent bridge sprints.  After that, even snicker bars and Brett’s shared crumbling pancakes weren’t enough to keep the monkey from climbing onto my back.  I’m such a hypochondriac.  When I get tired, I worry about damaging muscles that will prevent me from paddling with the pack again by taking too long to heal.  Worse yet, what if it was damage that would get progressively worse every time I paddle?  Luckily, Sarah doesn’t mind, when I tell her I need to slow up.  I’ve almost conquered my macho ego with the help of my advancing years. 

The last 45 minutes heading into the angry wind and against the fast current was the worst.  There was no stopping now.  If we stopped paddling, we drifted backwards.  Only continuous paddling would move us toward our waiting cars.  I kept reminding myself to rotate the torso to reach without leaning.  This was the time that the training did the most for me.  Not the time to let yourself take a shorter stroke or to lean forward before the paddle went into the water.   Al and Tom, who had been out at least an hour longer than us, passed us up.  After we finally dropped off their wake, Sarah graciously asked if I wanted to slow up more. I was grateful for that.  At times like this, I console myself with the though that I could do as well as them if I had trained as many hours as they had.  It gives me hope that I'll be able to paddle for another twenty years.