A long trip round

I was slow to get going this morning after hearing some late-night live music last night.  I got in two sets of the March strength routine before lunch, but waited until the afternoon to paddle.

When I got down to the river I found calm, comfortable conditions for paddling.  Needing to get two or three more longer sessions in before the Vicksburg race, I paddled around the Loosahatchie Bar.  It took me 140 minutes, which I guess is about average for me.  Actually, it's a little slower than average, and I attribute that to a portage I had to do up at the top of the bar.  In the last several years a sandbar has developed up there, and I mistakenly thought I saw a passage through it.  Once I realized I was wrong, I just carried my boat over the sandbar rather than paddle a half-mile upriver to get around it.

It was a rather rainy weekend here, but as I was leaving the marina the sun came out at last.

Wet but bearable

This morning I did two sets of the March strength routine and paddled for 100 minutes.

A rainy day was predicted, but when I got up this morning it was partly sunny with no rain in sight.  A check of the hourly forecast suggested I might get my paddle in before the rain arrived.  But as I drove over the Auction Avenue bridge onto Mud Island, drops began to fall, and I ended up doing my entire session in a light but steady rain.

Even so, it was not nearly as bad as the weather we had a few days ago.  It felt more like a springtime rain than a dead-of-winter rain.

More on temperatures

Because of all this goofy weather we've been having, I have been citing the temperature on this blog often lately.  I've been careful to include the "Fahrenheit" designation with my temperature observations so as not to confuse readers outside the United States, who most likely use the Celsius temperature scale.

Anybody who wishes to convert my Fahrenheit temperature observations to the equivalent Celsius readings may do so with this simple formula:

[°C] = ([°F] − 32) × ⁵⁄₉

For example, yesterday's high temperature here in Memphis was 56 degrees Fahrenheit.  To convert to Celsius, do this:

[°C] = (56 − 32) × ⁵⁄₉

[°C] = (24) × ⁵⁄<sub>9

cross-canceling, we obtain</sub>

[°C] = 8 × ⁵⁄3

[°C] = 40/3

And so, 56 degrees Fahrenheit is equal to about 13.3 degrees Celsius.

Here in the Mid South United States we enjoy a pretty temperate climate; the summertime is when we approach temperatures that some might consider extreme.  Last summer we had a day or two when the temperature in Memphis exceeded 105 degrees Fahrenheit, which is 40.5 degrees Celsius.  More often the summertime highs are in the 90s Fahrenheit, the same as 32 to 37 degrees Celsius.  In the spring and fall the temperatures here range from around 55 degrees Fahrenheit (12.8 degrees Celsius) to around 85 degrees Fahrenheit (29.4 degrees Celsius).  This past winter was actually quite mild in terms of air temperature: I don't think the overnight low ever dropped below 20 degrees Fahrenheit (-6.7 degrees Celsius), and I think every daytime high exceeded the freezing point of 32 degrees Fahrenheit or 0 degrees Celsius.  The coldest temperature recorded in Memphis in my lifetime is something like -6 degrees Fahrenheit, or -21.1 degrees Celsius.

There's hope after all

This morning I went downtown and paddled for 100 minutes.  It was a significantly nicer day out on the river today: clear skies, temperatures in the mid 40s Fahrenheit on the way to a forecast high in the mid 50s.

I paddled downriver below the old bridges that I posted pictures of a few weeks ago.  A fairly stiff south wind was blowing, and while that's good because it usually means higher temperatures, it was also bad because it chilled my pogie-free hands.  But once I was headed back upriver with the wind at my back, that problem was over.

With a two-hour race coming up a month from now, I'm trying to nudge the volume up a little.  But I'm trying to keep the quality high at the same time, paddling a good, strong pace and concentrating on planting my blade and rotating fully for maximum power in my strokes.

¡No más!

Today I did two sets of the March strength routine and paddled for 100 minutes.

At first I was feeling mightily glib about this latest blast of cold weather, but now I'm ready to say ¡No más!  Today the temperature remained in the low 40s and a chilly north breeze penetrated my bones.  At least there was some intermittent sunshine, and that alone made today's session much more bearable than Sunday's.

Monday photo feature

On a March day in 1994 that was much like these last few days--cold and blustery--I ran Big Laurel Creek near Hot Springs, North Carolina.  Here I am at the bottom of Stairsteps rapid.  Photo by Alfred Thompson.

It's not going out like a lamb

This morning I did two sets of the March strength routine and paddled for 100 minutes.

The dreary, wet weather continues, and today it had more attitude.  Strong winds from the west were forecast for today, but when I left the house it didn't seem to be blowing that bad.  Then I got in my boat, and within the first 20 minutes the wind picked up with a vengeance, driving what had previously been soft, misty raindrops hard into my face.  I had planned to paddle up to the mouth of the Wolf and back, but once the wind started howling I elected to stay in the harbor.

Our latest winter blast

All this week our local TV weatherpeople went on and on about the wintry misery that was to arrive here right about now.  As usual, the hysteria was overblown.  While the northernmost reaches of this TV market might have gotten up to an inch of snow, most of the region has experienced little more than overcast skies, coldish (mid 40s Fahrenheit) temperatures, and periods of light rain.

I'm not saying I like the weather we're having now; I'm as weary of this gray winter as anybody.  But for nonmeteorological reasons this has been, arguably, the crappiest, most depressing winter of my life, so if Mother Nature wants to send a few more bleak days our way, who cares?  Bring it on.

So after doing two sets of the March strength routine, I headed down to the river.  And it turned out to be a pretty good day to paddle.  Sure, it was rather cold, but I was dressed for it.  And with little wind, the session did not feel like an ordeal at all.  I went out on the river and paddled about a third of the way up the Loosahatchie Chute, one of my favorite places no matter what the weather is.  A light drizzle began to fall and the place became shrouded in mist to the point that I could barely see the downtown skyline even though it was never out of my line of sight.  The river is rarely more beautiful than it is on days like today.

All told, I paddled for 100 minutes, and felt surprisingly good in the boat given Wednesday's long, hard session.  I am tired now, but it's a nice feeling to have gotten out on a day when it was very tempting to skip it.

Marathon training

I was keen to do a longer, more intense session in the boat today.  From the marina I paddled to the mouth of the harbor, then headed upriver toward the mouth of the Wolf River.  A steady northwest breeze slowed my progress on this leg, but the going wasn't as miserable as it sometimes can be.

When I got to the Wolf I paddled up it some two miles to the Danny Thomas Boulevard bridge.  Then I turned around and returned to the marina the same way I had come, pushing the pace pretty hard until I reached the harbor.  Elapsed time: 120 minutes.

I've been plenty tired the rest of the day.  But I think a couple more sessions like this one will be good to have under my belt when I enter the 22-mile race down at Vicksburg on April 27.

Low intensity

Today I did two sets of the March strength routine and paddled for 80 minutes.  I paddled with my friend Joe, whom I hadn't seen in at least ten days, and we paddled fairly easy and talked about all kinds of stuff.

The river is on a pretty big rise.  Just two weeks ago the Memphis gauge reading was around 11 feet, and today's level was almost 24 feet.

Monday photo feature

We're finally starting to have some warmer, sunnier days, and this pleasant weather brings out some of my favorite denizens of the Memphis riverfront: turtles.  I think they are cute.  I am charmed by their ways.  Throughout the spring, summer, and fall, they can be seen sunning themselves on logs.  If you get too close, they file off into the water.

Late night

Today I did two sets of the March strength routine and paddled for 90 minutes.  It was overcast and cooler today, but not nearly as windy as yesterday.

I was operating on only about five hours of sleep, but this time it was my own fault.  I went out and saw some late-night live music last night and got to bed just before 2:00 AM.  Maybe it wasn't the smartest thing for somebody who's had trouble sleeping to do, but I feel that if I don't get out and see good music from time to time then I'm missing out on one of the best reasons to be a Memphian.

I should've flown a kite today

Out on the river this morning it was warm and very windy.  The wind was from the southwest, and that usually means rough water.  I figured I could use a little time out on that: my next race is on the Mississippi down at Vicksburg next month, and it's never guaranteed that we won't have rough conditions there.

From the marina I paddled to the mouth of the harbor and then up the river along the Tennessee bank.  As I neared the base of the Hernando DeSoto Bridge I found myself in one of the more bizarre predicaments I can remember.  Modern-day surf skis like mine have high-profile bows that quickly shed water from crashing waves and keep the boat up on the surface of the water.  The wind, blowing from my left, caught my bow and blew me sideways toward a log jam floating against the bank.  Despite turning my rudder hard to the left and forward sweeping on my right, I got blown up against the log jam and pinned there by the wind.

It was not a life-threatening situation as far as I could tell, but I felt like Paddle to the Sea when he gets trapped in Great Lakes ice for an entire winter.  One of my options was to hop in the water and swim/wade my boat to shore, but the water is freezing this time of year and I really didn't want to do that if I could avoid it.

Finally, by taking choppy paddle strokes and scooting the boat around with body-thrusts, I managed to maneuver myself next to a solid-looking log that I could push off on with my paddle.  I did so carefully, for if the log suddenly gave way I would be in the water.  After what felt like an eternity, I had my bow pointed into the wind and was able to paddle free of the log jam.

After that weird ordeal I decided to do just a couple of loops on the river between the HDB and the mouth of the harbor.  Then I returned to the harbor and did my little balance drill paddling in beam waves.  My balance has felt good the last several weeks.  A few sessions of floundering in that K1 had shaken my confidence in the surf ski, so I've put the K1 paddling on hold until warm weather is here for good.

I'm happy to report that I've slept better the last couple of nights.  I hope I can continue that streak.

Both ends burning on this candle

This morning I did two sets of the March strength routine and paddled for 110 minutes.  I paddled up to the mouth of the Wolf River and then a mile or so up the Wolf during this longer-than-usual paddling session.

I went to the river prepared to take pictures of the pelicans, but sadly they were gone.  A big reason, probably, is that the river is rising and the dike they had been hanging out on is now underwater.

I felt quite good in the boat in spite of yet another poor night of sleep.  I'm not sure where I'm finding the energy to do everything I'm doing right now.  I've never been much of a multi-tasker and have never liked to have many balls in the air, but that's the position I find myself in right now.  In addition to paddling, today I looked at a property where I might relocate my woodworking shop and test-drove a pickup truck that I'll need because the truck I'd been using to transport logs and lumber around will be staying with my soon-to-be ex-spouse.

After busy days like this you'd think I'd fall into bed and go right to sleep, but I guess it's the grief, anger, and other emotions you'd expect in a person whose spouse has left him that keep me wide awake for hours.  And so I'm feeling like I'm just waiting for the other shoe to drop in the form of an injury or a severe illness.

Pelicans are still here

This morning I did two sets of the March strength routine, which, as I said before, is the same Smart Bell workout described in this post from last year.

Then I went down to the river and paddled for 90 minutes.  It was sunny and beautiful but a north breeze kept things pretty chilly--I think today's high is supposed to be around 52 degrees Fahrenheit.  I also felt pretty tired in the boat, and I think it's largely because full eight-hour nights of sleep have been hard to come by for me lately.

The pelicans are still hanging out in full force near the lower end of the Loosahatchie Bar.  I'd sort of figured they'd be moving on by now.  I'll have to take a still camera next time I go down there, in case they're still around: I'd like to post a picture of these magnificent birds here.

Monday photo feature

My niece Ada does some canoeing on the White River near Calico Rock, Arkansas, about five years ago.  Ada's all grown up and in college now, spending this semester in Rome.  I'm awfully proud of the girl.

March winds

I'm starting up a strength routine for this month.  I've spent the last several months experimenting with new routines and trying some new exercises, but with the abrupt changes that have recently befallen me, I'm sticking with something familiar for this month--a Smart Bell workout.  Look back to this post from last year for more information on what a Smart Bell is and what I do with it.

Down at the river it was very, very windy today, with some pretty vicious gusts.  I paddled for 90 minutes, getting on the main river from the mouth of the harbor to the Hernando DeSoto Bridge and back, and otherwise staying in the harbor.

Pelicans galore

I paddled for almost three hours this morning--175 minutes, to be exact.

I paddled around the Loosahatchie Bar today, and I usually do that much faster than I did today.  I think my fastest time, starting and finishing at Harbortown Marina, is a hair under two hours.  Most of the time I do it in two hours and 10 or 15 minutes.

But things went slower today.  One reason was that today's water level, around eleven and a half feet on the Memphis gauge, leaves a huge sandbar exposed at the north end of the Bar, requiring a paddler to go much farther upstream than he has to do at higher levels.

Another reason was that I had my Go Pro camera and hoped to get some footage of the pelicans that I had seen Wednesday.  And I wasn't disappointed: there was an even bigger flock hanging out at the same spot near the lower end of the Bar.  I got a good five or six minutes of footage.

Of course, the Go Pro camera has its limitations: it has a very wide-angle lens, much better for capturing sweeping landscapes than for intimate, close-up shots.  And so I was a little disappointed later in the day when I viewed my footage and found it lacked the detail I was hoping for.

But that shouldn't diminish the first-hand experience I had out on the river.  Those birds were truly beautiful.

This evening I'm still tired from my marathon session.  Generally, I don't think ultra-long training sessions are a good idea.  You can maintain good stroke form for only so long, and once that form breaks down, all you're doing is practicing poor strokes.

But training is not the main reason to go paddling.  In the scheme of things, it should be well down the list of reasons.  The experience I had in the outdoors today was hard to beat.

Cold in the air and in my body

This morning I went downtown and paddled for 90 minutes.  There was a north breeze blowing and the temperature was around 40 degrees Fahrenheit.  There were patches of blue sky overhead but no real sunshine.  In all, a rather cheerless day.  But I shouldn't complain, because while I was down along the Gulf Coast last week, Memphis was having its worst week of weather this winter.

It's been weeks since I've used my Go Pro camera.  Needless to say, I've had some weightier matters on my mind lately than my little amateur video project.  But I wish I had had the camera on board today, because I encountered a flock of migrating pelicans over on the Arkansas side near the southern tip of the Loosahatchie Bar.

I guess I will soon be dreaming up a strength routine for the month of March, but the way I've been burning the candle at both ends, it's probably not the worst thing for me to be taking my time on that.  I've actually come down with a little cold, and the only surprising thing about that is that I haven't gotten much sicker much sooner.

Monday photo feature

Maggie Pyle of Mobile, Alabama, was the fastest female on the water in Ocean Springs this past weekend.  Fellow Mobile resident Robert Nykvist shot this photo of her as she approached the finish.

Both Maggie and Robert have told me they read this blog regularly.  I always appreciate hearing that, for there are times when I wonder whether anybody reads this silly thing.  So these two readers get a shout-out here.

One more Gulf Coast session

Battle on the Bayou race director Nick Kinderman said yesterday that the results would be posted online by tomorrow or Tuesday, but apparently he was feeling all productive and got them up today.  Take a look at them here.

I slept rather late this morning and decided to skip paddling and get myself back to Memphis.  But then I went outside and found the weather quite nice--cool and breezy, but lots of sunshine--and changed my mind.  It was too pretty a day not to paddle, and I doubt the weather is as nice up in Memphis right now.

I put in at the cove where yesterday's race had started and paddled out into the Back Bay of Biloxi.  Then the wind began to pick up, so I turned around and headed up into the more protected waters of Old Fort Bayou.  I returned to my putin spot after 90 minutes of paddling.

I'm feeling surprisingly free of soreness today.  In recent years I have been extremely sore for a couple of days after each race, but it seems I have been spared this time.

First race in the books for 2013

The fourth annual Battle on the Bayou canoe and kayak race took place yesterday, and I finished third overall.  German native Christian Maßow (pronounced "massow") edged the tandem surf ski paddled by Phil Capel of the greater Little Rock area and Brad Rex of Baton Rouge for the win.

I had spent much of the race trading wake rides with these two boats and had even led for short periods, but I faded in the last four miles or so and finished some thirty or forty seconds back.  Could have been the exhausting events of the last several weeks catching up with me, or maybe these other two boats were just better.  Either way, it was fun to be racing again after a long offseason, and with luck any lessons I learned yesterday will be to my benefit in the future.

Race director Nick Kinderman says the results will be posted in a couple of days, and I'll link to them here when they are.  Nick and his team of volunteers did an outstanding job making this event happen.  Some balmier weather would have been nice, but I think it otherwise was the best Battle on the Bayou yet.

Another marathon behind the wheel

Yesterday I thought I was all done with paddling by lunchtime, but when Heidi got off work in the mid-afternoon she asked me if I wanted to join her on an upper section of the Hillsborough.  It sounded fun to me, so we took her inflatable kayak up to a cypress swamp east of I-75.  Heidi, a zoologist and the animal nutritionist for the company that owns Busch Gardens, Sea World, and other theme parks, proceeded to point out all the wildlife.  We saw a few turtles, three smallish alligators, and numerous species of birds, including several that Heidi said weren't so easy to spot.

This morning I said goodbye to Heidi and began the trip around the Gulf of Mexico to Ocean Springs.  I knew when I decided to go to Tampa that I was setting myself up for a long drive today, and it was indeed a monster.  The leg on I-10 from Lake City to Ocean Springs seemed to go on forever.

Tomorrow's Battle on the Bayou race course starts in the Back Bay of Biloxi and goes up Old Fort Bayou for some nine and a half miles, finishing next to The Shed barbecue joint.  When I arrived in Ocean Springs, I went to The Shed first to get in a short paddle.  I did another six 12-stroke sprints and otherwise paddled easy and tried to get loose after the long drive.

Once that piece of business was taken care of, I went to the Gulf Hills Hotel, next to where the race starts, and went through race check-in.  I saw a few familiar faces and socialized for a while, but now I think I'm headed to bed pretty soon.