5 years
Well loyal readers, it's been a little over 5 years since I first started this blog. That first year I believe I posted twice. The next year I had a few more, and it's gradually been building since then.
The traditional gift for a 5 year anniversary is wood. I'm never really sure what that means, but let's go with it. Wood.
The first boat I ever rowed in was made of wood. It was a very old Pocock shell named, "Kate" and she weighed a metric ton. I think the first day we put the boat into the water, more than half of us almost went in as she settled into the river. Rowing that boat was a special pleasure. I believe I blanked out most of those memories, but I do recall the gunwales flexing every time we took a stroke. And I recall going full bore by 8, and not really moving all that fast. Last I heard of that boat, she'd been sold to a starter program down the road. I miss that boat from time to time. I wonder how many tables were made from her.
My first oars were wood. "The Germans," so named because of the German flags on the shafts, were massive oars with handles we could barely wrap our hands around. And those handles were smooth. After the first day, I remember dipping my hands into the water and wetting down the handle to give me some sort of grip. Then of course I had too much grip, and wore out my forearm muscles, and shredded my hands. After two weeks on the water, I wasn't sure that my hands would last the rest of the semester. Those oars are still around. Sadly the flags are gone, but the oars still look massive.
One of the more fun, and probably dangerous memories was standing on one of the pilings for the Marion Street Bridge, trying to remove several logs that had gotten stuck after winter, and were impeding our ability to row under the bridge spans. I'm standing there with several rowers, I don't recall wearing a life-vest, using paddles and ropes to try and remove the logs with the Willamette River rushing by us, just an inch or two under the lip of the piling we were standing on.
A more memorable experience with floating logs happened sophomore year. I believe it was during spring break or just after. I'm coxing the novice 8, and we are rowing up by the boat house, heading up river toward the Salem Yacht Club - back then we could row from the boat house to the club. As we are rounding the curve in the river, I see a large tree floating toward us, slowly rotating counter clockwise. On our river there is absolutely no where to go to get away from such debris. I had the boat back down on pressure so we were hanging out in the current, and when the tree spun we h it full pressure and scooted right passed the tree as it was rotating around.
My personal claim to fame is that in the 3 years I was coxing, I never damaged a boat or lost a skeg. I would love to say that it was 100% skill that allowed me to navigate that river without any issue, but more often than not, it was by pure luck that I managed to escape without a scratch on the boat. Several times, especially in the morning near the boat house where there's no light at all, I would be coxing a piece and see a large log floating passed the coxswain seat. I had several close calls where I was compelled to reach into the water and check to make sure the skeg was still around.
My last experience with wood was sophomore year while racing at the Husky Invite. We'd split the squad up so half the team was in Boston racing, and the rest of us got to row at the Invite. I was very envious of not being able to go back east, until I got to the race. I'd raced through the Cut freshmen year at Head of the Lake, but this was an entirely different monster. I was coxing a JV 4 I believe in one of our old Owen wooden boats, the "Spencer." The crew that had used the boat before us had set the boat down on the skeg which caused it to get loose. It wasn't until we were sitting at the start line that I noticed the water starting to slowly leak into our boat at stroke seat. I recall that being one of the most fun races I'd ever been involved in. We finished DFL by a lot, but had the best time doing it. As we raced the boat got heavier and heavier. At one point a boat caught a crab and had to stop. We took two power 20's and could barely get through them. As we rowed through the cut, the skeg quit being effective and we bounced off the walls a couple of times. I believe that this point we'd figured out what had happened and were laughing about it as we went.
Despite that we made it through the race with everyone else. No one in that boat was mad when we were done. We chatted with Western Washington, and managed to row back through the Cut with everyone else and dock without incident. Despite the result, it is easily one of the best races I've been involved in.
Thus ends the 5 year anniversary celebration of the blog with memories of wood.
The traditional gift for a 5 year anniversary is wood. I'm never really sure what that means, but let's go with it. Wood.
The first boat I ever rowed in was made of wood. It was a very old Pocock shell named, "Kate" and she weighed a metric ton. I think the first day we put the boat into the water, more than half of us almost went in as she settled into the river. Rowing that boat was a special pleasure. I believe I blanked out most of those memories, but I do recall the gunwales flexing every time we took a stroke. And I recall going full bore by 8, and not really moving all that fast. Last I heard of that boat, she'd been sold to a starter program down the road. I miss that boat from time to time. I wonder how many tables were made from her.
My first oars were wood. "The Germans," so named because of the German flags on the shafts, were massive oars with handles we could barely wrap our hands around. And those handles were smooth. After the first day, I remember dipping my hands into the water and wetting down the handle to give me some sort of grip. Then of course I had too much grip, and wore out my forearm muscles, and shredded my hands. After two weeks on the water, I wasn't sure that my hands would last the rest of the semester. Those oars are still around. Sadly the flags are gone, but the oars still look massive.
One of the more fun, and probably dangerous memories was standing on one of the pilings for the Marion Street Bridge, trying to remove several logs that had gotten stuck after winter, and were impeding our ability to row under the bridge spans. I'm standing there with several rowers, I don't recall wearing a life-vest, using paddles and ropes to try and remove the logs with the Willamette River rushing by us, just an inch or two under the lip of the piling we were standing on.
A more memorable experience with floating logs happened sophomore year. I believe it was during spring break or just after. I'm coxing the novice 8, and we are rowing up by the boat house, heading up river toward the Salem Yacht Club - back then we could row from the boat house to the club. As we are rounding the curve in the river, I see a large tree floating toward us, slowly rotating counter clockwise. On our river there is absolutely no where to go to get away from such debris. I had the boat back down on pressure so we were hanging out in the current, and when the tree spun we h it full pressure and scooted right passed the tree as it was rotating around.
My personal claim to fame is that in the 3 years I was coxing, I never damaged a boat or lost a skeg. I would love to say that it was 100% skill that allowed me to navigate that river without any issue, but more often than not, it was by pure luck that I managed to escape without a scratch on the boat. Several times, especially in the morning near the boat house where there's no light at all, I would be coxing a piece and see a large log floating passed the coxswain seat. I had several close calls where I was compelled to reach into the water and check to make sure the skeg was still around.
My last experience with wood was sophomore year while racing at the Husky Invite. We'd split the squad up so half the team was in Boston racing, and the rest of us got to row at the Invite. I was very envious of not being able to go back east, until I got to the race. I'd raced through the Cut freshmen year at Head of the Lake, but this was an entirely different monster. I was coxing a JV 4 I believe in one of our old Owen wooden boats, the "Spencer." The crew that had used the boat before us had set the boat down on the skeg which caused it to get loose. It wasn't until we were sitting at the start line that I noticed the water starting to slowly leak into our boat at stroke seat. I recall that being one of the most fun races I'd ever been involved in. We finished DFL by a lot, but had the best time doing it. As we raced the boat got heavier and heavier. At one point a boat caught a crab and had to stop. We took two power 20's and could barely get through them. As we rowed through the cut, the skeg quit being effective and we bounced off the walls a couple of times. I believe that this point we'd figured out what had happened and were laughing about it as we went.
Despite that we made it through the race with everyone else. No one in that boat was mad when we were done. We chatted with Western Washington, and managed to row back through the Cut with everyone else and dock without incident. Despite the result, it is easily one of the best races I've been involved in.
Thus ends the 5 year anniversary celebration of the blog with memories of wood.
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