I was up by 5 AM EDT yesterday, and after some coffee and breakfast I headed to Governor Ned McWherter Landing Park on the bank of the Tennessee River. The Three Rivers Regatta is so named because it occurs in the area where the Holston and French Broad Rivers come together to form the Tennessee. It features a race of 24 miles (38.6 kilometers) that starts and finishes on the Tennessee and makes loops up into both the Holston and French Broad. I, meanwhile, was entered in the 6-mile (9.66-kilometer) race, which would be contested mostly on the Tennessee while arcing into the Holston for only the briefest of moments. I suppose if I were in the mood to stir up some trouble I could have lodged a complaint over being done out of one of my "three rivers," maybe even demanded a refund of a third of my entry fee. But I was in no such mood. I've paddled the French Broad (higher upstream in North Carolina) more times than I can count anyway.
I got to the race site in time to see a few of my friends take off on the 24-mile journey at 8:30. My own race would start an hour later, and I spent the time readying my boat and gear. Soon enough I was on the water, at the starting line facing upstream beneath the South Knoxville Bridge.
The river had a strong flow as a result of Thursday's heavy rains, and the first half of the race would be spent looking for the best lines to avoid paddling right into the teeth of the current. Mostly that meant sticking close to one bank or the other. The most interesting part of the whole race was the first couple of kilometers, in which we had to paddle up the Tennessee from the bridge (at the left edge of the photo) into the river-left channel next to Dickinson Island (indicated with pink arrows):
Once in a blue moon I have a good idea, and the one I had yesterday was to line up as far to the river-left end of the starting line as possible. Once the gun had fired, I moved quickly to the river-left bank seeking shelter from the current. Meanwhile, Knoxville locals Hannah Rubin and Joe Stibler, who had lined up closer to the river-right end of the starting line, did the same thing along the river-right bank, and for the first few minutes they moved a good several boatlengths ahead of me as they apparently had a better eddy to work with over there.
But of course, they were going to have to cross the river to enter the correct Dickinson Island channel, and soon they were giving their lead right back to me as they ferried across against the river's full current. By the time we entered the channel I had several boatlengths on them.
There was no time to relax, of course, because I had to assume they were capable of reeling me in. For the remainder of the race I paddled as strong and efficiently as I could manage, at between 70 and 80 strokes per minute. Fighting my way upriver for the first half of the race was tough, not because I was dealing with anything my competitors didn't have to deal with, but just because of the mental stress of looking down at my G.P.S. display and seeing that I was moving two or three kilometers per hour slower than I could be going on flatwater.
At last I reached the confluence of the Holston and French Broad Rivers, and the turning buoy was just a slight distance up in the mouth of the Holston. I rounded the buoy and finally got a good look at where my nearest challengers were. I'd built a pretty good lead on Hannah and Joe, but of course no lead ever feels big enough to me, so I kept the power on as I made the journey back downriver toward the finish line at the bridge. Now I had some help from the current, and most of the time I was traveling well over 13 kph. I had to navigate a couple of large bends in the river, but eventually the bridge came back into view about 1000 meters distant. By now I was pretty sure the race was mine as long as I didn't flip or do anything else stupid. I stayed as strong and smooth as I could and finished with a time of 51 minutes, 47 seconds.
I paddled back up to watch my fellow racers come in. Hannah Rubin took second overall and first place among women with a time of 54:29. Joe Stibler finished 17 seconds later.
I knew that my victory would attract little notice, as the still-in-progress 24-mile race was, rightly or wrongly, the marquee event of the day. To be honest, I've always thought that offering more than one race at a canoe and kayak event is a dumb idea. Our sport simply isn't big enough to be dividing the participants into different competitions at one event. If it could be like a track meet, where you've got races from 100 meters to 10,000 meters, that would be wonderful; after all, some athletes have the gift for sprinting while others are better suited to the more endurance-oriented events. But running is a much bigger sport than paddling. Meanwhile, many paddlers seem afflicted with the attitude that longer is better, and so at an event like the Three Rivers Regatta, the shorter distance always ends up being treated like the "kiddie race" and everybody who's anybody is expected to sign up for the longer distance. I've caved to this peer pressure a few times in the past: "All the cool kids are doing the longer race, so I guess I'd better do it too!"
But no more! I'm almost 56 years old, and I'm going to live life the way I want to live it. If nobody notices when I do well, fine. I wouldn't be still doing this sport after 42 years if my only motivation were recognition. For the record, most of the time I try not to support events that have more than one race distance because like I said, I think it's a stupid idea. But this one was right on my way home, and I had a few friends participating, so, well... there I was yesterday.
Just to be clear, there were definitely some superior athletes doing the 24-mile race yesterday, and if we'd all been in the same race, I'd have had to perform really well just to finish in the top five. But hey, it's been a long time since I've finished first in a race regardless of the quality of competition, so I'm going to allow myself to savor yesterday's "kiddie race" victory.
As for that 24-mile race, Joe Crnkovich kept the title in Knoxville by crossing the finish line first after a grueling three hour, 14 minute, 12 second contest. He'd spent the race locked in a tight battle with Scott Cummins of Louisville, Kentucky, before breaking free late. Scott was still close behind at the end, finishing in 3:14:26.
Alessia Faverio of Erwin, Tennessee, was the first female across the line while racing a single surfski like Joe and Scott. Her time was 3:29:40. Other class winners were Sven Jonsson and David Stevens (tandem kayak, 3:23:37) and Jeff Schnelle and Jereme Dees (tandem outrigger canoe, 3:26:02). The complete results for both the 24- and 6-mile distances are posted here.
I hung around for a while and enjoyed catching up with some folks I don't see that often. It would have fun to settle in and make a day of it. But I'd been away from home for almost four weeks, and the yearning to be back under my own roof was stronger than any other urge. I got in the car and headed west on Interstate 40, gaining an hour as I re-entered the Central Time zone. I was as happy to see Memphis, Tennessee, as I can ever remember as I arrived home around 6:30 PM.
What's next? Right now I really don't know. I don't think that nerve block I had before I left has done me much good, so I might have to explore the surgical option. But that can wait until later. All I know right now is that I'm dead-dog tired, but home... HOME!!!!
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