Death in the paddling community

This morning I paddled my surf ski out on the Mississippi for 90 minutes.  There was quite a bit of upstream-bound barge traffic, and I went out and tried to surf.  I didn't catch many waves, partly because the rigs were moving quite fast and partly because a fairly strong north wind was pushing the waves down.

My left elbow continues to hurt badly, and I'm sort of at a loss for what to do about it.  I suppose I should see a doctor, but I really, really hate going to the doctor thanks to the insurance industry and the way they make seeking even the most routine medical care an ordeal in this country.  I think I'll start with some icing.

Tragedy has struck the paddling world this week.  The annual Great Falls Race on the Potomac River, one of the first "extreme races" in the country, was scheduled for this weekend, and Shannon Christy had traveled from her home in South Carolina to participate.  On Thursday she was killed while making a practice run (some details of what happened are available here and here).

I made Shannon's acquaintance last September, when she and I were in the same group running the upper Gauley River in West Virginia; I mention her in passing in this post from that trip.  But the main reason it came as a shock yesterday morning when I learned of her fatal accident was a Face Book post she had made the day before.  Clearly excited about racing this weekend, Shannon posted a photo of her registration form.  On the form there was a section for a racer to give bullet-point personal information for the P.A. announcer to say during his or her run.  Shannon responded with humor: "I believe there's a direct correlation between smooth legs and smooth lines."  She added, "I just really like smiling, it's my favorite."

I tend to be kind of a worry-wart when I look far into my future, and there's no better example than my current state of affairs.  Right now I'm living in temporary quarters, and every bit of my attention is focused on that future time when I'll have my new building fixed up and be settled once more.  I'm spending tremendous sums of money and I find myself fretting over the question of whether I can preserve enough of my nest egg so that I can afford the food, shelter, and health care I'll need into my twilight years.  Moments when I can just relax and savor the present have been hard to come by.

Shannon, of course, did not know that Thursday would be her last day on Earth.  But it appears, at least from that Face Book post, that she was living as though it were her last, so to speak.  She was consumed by all the joy that our sport offers: the satisfaction of being skilled in her boat, the magnificence of the Potomac River environs, the friendship and camaraderie among the participants, the relaxed, light-hearted atmosphere that usually carries the day even on a stretch of whitewater as difficult as Great Falls.

I need to follow Shannon's example.  Even though this has not been an easy year for me so far, my life is generally pretty wonderful.  Shannon knew that, and I expect that has a lot to do with why she was so well-liked.  Today's Great Falls Race was canceled and replaced with a memorial service for Shannon, and this photo, posted on a Face Book page called Exploring Elements and re-posted by my Face Book friend Bill Hearn, shows all the paddlers who turned out to pay respects: