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Archive for June, 2006
Yesterday was an intense experience, though only for 2 minutes each race. For the fourth year, I competed in the Toronto International Dragon Boat Race Festival. As always, it was a huge amount of fun. After competing hard for our spot in the final round of the Junior mixed class, with a time of 2:34:30 (m:ss:th) in heat one and 2:30:19 in heat two, Woburn put up a huge effort and came away with third place in B division and rank 9th overall for the Junior class.
I would like to thank the whole team for putting in so much effort, coming in at 7:00AM on Tuesdays and Thursdays to do the runs and weight training. Steering for the team these three years has been tremendous. I really enjoyed watching you guys come together and form a team out on the water every Saturday. I think that everyone should be proud. For those who are returning, take the experiences of this year and improve on it next year. For those, like myself who are graduating, remember what this sport has taught you. Above all else, word hard but play harder.
And now for some pictures before during and after our first heat:
Gawd , CSS is confusing to work with. Any CSS gurus out there, preferably from Woburn. HELP! <3 (I always that was cock and balls.)
Call me crazy, or maybe Ishmael. It takes someone less than sane to want to spend ten days out in the “bush”, paddling on a river. Ten days of long hard work; just getting from place to place takes effort. When doctors extol the virtues of exercise on the body, I’d bet that they never considered canoe tripping. When most people consider canoeing, images of serine, placid lakes and rivers and slow lazy strokes come mind. I say phooey to that. Canoeing, specifically canoe tripping, is about getting from point A to B in as little time as possible and maybe along the way will you see some nice scenery. There is this mantra and ideology in “serious” canoe trippers that is really “hardcore”. Though it would not fall into this category, my most recent trip was down the French River.
The French River is a Courier du Bois trade route and moderately easy as far as Canadian rivers go. The French can’t really be called a river, though. I think of it as mainly a lake that doesn’t end. When I say the word river, white water flashes through my head. Not so on the French.
The French River has two main features, the first; it has no current WHATSOEVER! The second, No matter which direction you go, there will always be a head wind. The head winds on the French were some of the worst that I have ever experienced. Our third day out on the French, co-incidentally the longest distance we had to travel in one day, was windy. The thing is, wind on the French is sneaky.
I’ll give you an example of one of the days during my French River trip. My group and I woke up at around 6:00 AM that morning; it was sunny and not windy at all. We had breakfast at a leisurely pace, broke camp, loaded the boats and were on the water by about 7:30AM. The water that early was calm and placid, not a hint of what was to come. From around 8:00 AM to 11:00 AM, the wind steadily increased, not so much that it was suddenly apparent but wind there was. It got to a point where we had to stop and talk strategy. The only way to make any quick progress was form a train behind each other, to break the wind. This worked quite well, except the slower canoes got separated from the faster ones and two trains formed. By about 1:00 PM, the wind was strong enough to create two-foot waves, traveling upriver. One image sticks out in my mind. It is of one of a camper and myself, paddling as hard as we could to make headway, looking over to some cottagers on a beach. The two cottagers got up and walked down the beach, faster than we were moving. It was kind of disheartening, trying as hard as we could and bearly keeping in place. In a place close by to the cottagers, hydro lines crossed the river. We stopped for a rest under the lines with still atleast another 20km to go. A great, deep moaning sound filled the air while we waited. We realized it was power lines and the wind blowing over them. The strongest winds we faced on the French were right there. With a head wind and 50km traveled, it was a very long day.
In most places, the French is wide, deep and about a quick moving as a sloth covered in molasses in January. The only place where there is any perceptible current is found where the river narrows and you have to portage, as we were not allowed to shoot rapids.
Oh, portaging. The wonderful act of taking a canoe on your shoulders, walking down track that is little more than a gap between trees for a kilometer or two, reaching then end, dropping your load and heading back because the other five canoes are not going to move themselves. Portaging has its own rules and paradoxes. For example, no portage, no matter how small, will take less then half an hour. Why is this you may ask? No please don’t go into it. I’m sorry but I can’t resist.
First, all the canoes have to vie for the two spots where there is footing to unload. Second, every canoe has at 120-liter portage pack that, all though it is filled with tents and dry sacks, still manages to absorb at least its own weight in water. Also, in every canoe there is a food barrel. Not the wooden kind, big plastic honking things fill with enough food to keep you alive for the next ten days, you hope. Everything is unloaded, now the canoe can actually be lifted onto your shoulders. This in itself can be a backbreaking procedure; so if you’re not up to it, don’t even try. Okay, so all the packs, barrels and canoes are on peoples backs, which never ever happens (someone always leaves something behind on the trail), you can set out on your overland journey. Slogging through mosquitoes-infested woods, you have not been drained by the bloodsuckers from hell, you actually manage to reach the end of the trail, put your burden down and take a well-deserved rest. In fact, you feel like there should be a party or something celebrating your marathon. WRONG! Load those canoes up and hop back in. You still have another 20k before lunch. ?
Oh canoeing, that love/hate relationship that I share with it. Why do people do it? I suppose it’s the feeling of accomplishment that you get when finish. Being able to look back and say, I conquered that. Maybe it’s the camaraderie that forms from shared hardships. A bond forms between people who trod the same path. Maybe it’s a good portion insanity. The only thing I can say for sure is, only a tripper knows the feeling.
This was a found-footage (read->used without permission) video I put together from various sources. Feel free to watch.
Right click and save as.