I went to the race on the Saline River at Benton, Arkansas, yesterday. There were two noteworthy items about my experience there. One, I had no competition whatsoever: nobody else showed up with anything remotely resembling a race boat. The next-fastest boat in the field was probably one of the many ABS plastic tandem canoes people had entered. I learned a long time ago not to be cocky as an athlete, but as we lined up yesterday, I was some ninety-nine-and-a-half-percent sure I was going to win (and in fact I did). And two, my boat was all wrong for that river. The section of the Saline we raced on features long deep pools alternating with shallow, gravelly shoals, and with its understern rudder, my boat was unfit to handle the shoals. I ended up hopping out and portaging every time I came to one (with no competition, I had plenty of time to do that). I even started the race on my feet because there was a shoals in the first 30 meters of the course. But those efforts weren't enough to save the rudder from some damage.
In the early part of the race I tried to maintain a stroke rate in the mid 70s, but the frequent disruptions to portage quickly made that seem pointless. I did the first couple of portages at a run; the footing wasn't too bad over the pebbly bars next to the shoals. But as my lead grew I sort of lost my motivation to do that. On the water I had to work hard to move at even 11 kilometers per hour. There wasn't much current helping me, and the pools were often shallow enough to create bottom drag. And by the late stages of the race my rudder was damaged enough that it was creating some drag, too. It felt like I had one golf whiffle ball of resistance on the boat.
When I reached the finish line, my G.P.S. device told me the course was about 6.2 kilometers (3.85 miles) long. My time was 46 minutes, 34 seconds, and that means little to me given all the portages and stuff.
The river did indeed do a number on my rudder:
I'll accept the blame, seeing as how I didn't do my due diligence regarding the sort of river I'd be racing on. I can fix it, but I think I may go ahead and order a new one and relegate this one to emergency-spare duty.
More troubling to me is that as I carried the boat up to the car, I realized there was a lot of water sloshing around inside. I let it all flow into the bow, opened the drain plug, and tipped the boat so it would drain, and at least a half-gallon of water came gushing out. How had it gotten in there? I couldn't remember the hull taking any bad impacts, and when I looked it over carefully, I could see no damage.
Further investigation would have to wait until later. I enjoyed the catfish lunch that the organizers fed us, socialized a bit with fellow participants, and received my award. Trophies and medals aren't the reason I do my sport, but I have to say these race organizers went all-out with their hardware:
If they want to say I'm a champion, who am I to argue? Well, anyway... all told, I don't regret going over there yesterday; it's always nice to get out of town and paddle in a different place. But if I'd known a little more about the venue I probably would have skipped it. What I really should have done once I was there yesterday was leave my boat on the car and offer myself up for anybody looking for a canoe partner.
Yesterday also happened to be my mom's birthday. I'm not sure I should say how old she is, so I'll just say that she's age-appropriate to be my mother. I came back home and took her to supper at our favorite Indian restaurant. With some Indian cuisine on top of that catfish lunch, I got all the calories I needed yesterday.
This morning I went down to the riverfront for a 100-minute paddle. The heat is rising here in the Mid South: as I drove home on Interstate 40 yesterday afternoon, the temperature display on my dashboard rose as high as 96 degrees Fahrenheit. And yet, it's really not so oppressive. The humidity has been low and a nice north breeze has been blowing. I felt quite good out on the river this morning as I paddled a strong but not murderous pace.
This afternoon I took a closer look at the boat I raced in yesterday (I keep a different boat down at the dock for training here at home, in case you're wondering). I filled the shell with water and looked for leaks. It turns out that during the beating the rudder took yesterday, the seal got broken where the tube that holds the rudder's shaft meets the bottom of the hull. I'll have to think about the best way to try to fix that, but I'll get it done one way or another.
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