You still keep this blog?
Yes, yes I do. Again the lack of solid internet for several months has kept me from posting more often, and honestly the breakneck schedule I had this spring wouldn't have given me much time or motivation to post.
This year has absolutely whizzed by without so much as a friendly hello, and I am just days from my next adventure. So let's quickly recap before the blog likely goes dark for the summer - hopefully not.
I can sum up spring like this: I blinked, it was done. Despite having just gone through the spring, I'm lost without my calendar - not a great sign.
January was about recruiting. I made a couple of quick trips as well as my first solo trailer driving trip to pick up several racing shells in Seattle. It's funny that I used to go into a cold sweat when I heard trailer driving, and now it's more of a shrug.
The trip to Seattle was not the smoothest thing in the world. I clipped a curb in Everett while turning toward the Pocock facility. Thankfully I only went up over it the curb and back down. I dearly love Pocock Racing Shells, but equally dislike their driveway. After three attempts to back our 40-foot trailer into their lot off a busy four lane road, John Tytus came out and parked like a champ.
I spent the next three days with some friends, while visiting two local junior programs introducing myself to the coaches and the seniors before driving three racing shells back south.
It was at this point I realized that I'd forgotten to leave the boat straps I'd brought so I had to spend a few minutes double strapping the bows. Live and learn. And if you're one of those coaches who doesn't double strap - I know there are some who don't - allow me to share my experience of watching one of our shells slowly slide back and forth on the crossbars while I was traveling through Tacoma.
I'd never accuse the State of Washington for not caring about their roads, but it does strike me odd that after years of road construction on the freeway leading into Federal Way, that the road is still terrible. And those few miles of steady bumps managed to work two of the straps loose.
There is nothing quite like parking a boat trailer on a narrow shoulder of I-5, and hanging from the trailer tightening straps while cars whip by at 60 miles per hour. Exciting.
The excitement didn't end there as I discovered just south of Olympia that the running lights were no longer running. I made a couple of phone calls, and received the less than helpful suggestion of driving back south as quickly as possible before it got too dark. Thank you facilities. That being said, the fun of switching between blinking hazard lights, and turn signals meant that I was too focused on trying to keep other drivers aware of my situation to notice that I was driving through Portland during rush hour. I opted to pull into Camping World and had the parents come pick me up for the night before finishing the trip in the morning.
March kicked off our season in style as we headed to Las Vegas to face off against UW, Cal, Marist, and Cornell. I'd never been to Lake Las Vegas, but I'd heard the venue was solid and the weather was iffy, and I'd say that neither disappointed. We moved the racing schedule up significantly in order to avoid high winds but other than gusts, the racing was fair and fast.
A few years ago my alma mater shuttered the rowing program, a move that was extremely unpopular, but also unsurprising. The university had been angling to do that for years and finally pulled the plug. This left the question of what to do with the fleet of excellent racing shells including two rather new shells. Unfortunately, the care given to these shells by the coaches, and athletes was not shared by the university administration nor the club program they were solid to. I stumbled upon our once vibrant fleet rotting on two sets of racks in the desert. All but one of the racing eights had been destroyed through careless handling, and the fours weren't far off. It was a sad end to a once mighty fleet that won 24 conference championships, several WIRA championships, and had raced to 9th at Head of the Charles.
April flew by with back to back trips down to Palo Alto to face off against the likes of Stanford, Northeastern, Wisconsin, UW, Cal, Hobart, Santa Clara, and UC Davis. We also raced at Washington State University when Gonzaga's home course was frozen out, and raced UCLA in a scrimmage down at Dexter.
We finished with two trips to Lake Natoma for Pac-12s and IRAs.
The season was rough, but fun. Our schedule was easily one of the toughest in the country seeing us face off against the number: 2, 4, 6, 12, 13, 14, 22, and 25 ranked teams in the country. If we were a basketball or football program, there'd be no doubt we'd have made March Madness or made a run at a New Years Day bowl game.
I'd write a more comprehensive recap of Pac-12s and IRAs, but I'm still chewing through those. The program had a habit of showing up against top ranked opponents, but rowing down against other programs it saw as pushovers. We showed up on some days, we did not on others.
It's a maturity issue, and it's a work in progress.
So what's next?
In five days, I will fly out to upstate New York and spend the summer coaching. I may have bit off a bit more than I can chew. I'll be the head coach of the competitive junior boys, and apparently the head coach of the masters and Learn to Row camps. I had thought that I was only going to be an assistant with the last two programs so I will need to look into that situation upon arriving.
And then next year? Next year I plan to return to my current program. I like the direction it's heading, and while this year has been frustrating, it's also been fun, and exciting.
This year has absolutely whizzed by without so much as a friendly hello, and I am just days from my next adventure. So let's quickly recap before the blog likely goes dark for the summer - hopefully not.
I can sum up spring like this: I blinked, it was done. Despite having just gone through the spring, I'm lost without my calendar - not a great sign.
January was about recruiting. I made a couple of quick trips as well as my first solo trailer driving trip to pick up several racing shells in Seattle. It's funny that I used to go into a cold sweat when I heard trailer driving, and now it's more of a shrug.
The trip to Seattle was not the smoothest thing in the world. I clipped a curb in Everett while turning toward the Pocock facility. Thankfully I only went up over it the curb and back down. I dearly love Pocock Racing Shells, but equally dislike their driveway. After three attempts to back our 40-foot trailer into their lot off a busy four lane road, John Tytus came out and parked like a champ.
I spent the next three days with some friends, while visiting two local junior programs introducing myself to the coaches and the seniors before driving three racing shells back south.
It was at this point I realized that I'd forgotten to leave the boat straps I'd brought so I had to spend a few minutes double strapping the bows. Live and learn. And if you're one of those coaches who doesn't double strap - I know there are some who don't - allow me to share my experience of watching one of our shells slowly slide back and forth on the crossbars while I was traveling through Tacoma.
I'd never accuse the State of Washington for not caring about their roads, but it does strike me odd that after years of road construction on the freeway leading into Federal Way, that the road is still terrible. And those few miles of steady bumps managed to work two of the straps loose.
There is nothing quite like parking a boat trailer on a narrow shoulder of I-5, and hanging from the trailer tightening straps while cars whip by at 60 miles per hour. Exciting.
The excitement didn't end there as I discovered just south of Olympia that the running lights were no longer running. I made a couple of phone calls, and received the less than helpful suggestion of driving back south as quickly as possible before it got too dark. Thank you facilities. That being said, the fun of switching between blinking hazard lights, and turn signals meant that I was too focused on trying to keep other drivers aware of my situation to notice that I was driving through Portland during rush hour. I opted to pull into Camping World and had the parents come pick me up for the night before finishing the trip in the morning.
March kicked off our season in style as we headed to Las Vegas to face off against UW, Cal, Marist, and Cornell. I'd never been to Lake Las Vegas, but I'd heard the venue was solid and the weather was iffy, and I'd say that neither disappointed. We moved the racing schedule up significantly in order to avoid high winds but other than gusts, the racing was fair and fast.
A few years ago my alma mater shuttered the rowing program, a move that was extremely unpopular, but also unsurprising. The university had been angling to do that for years and finally pulled the plug. This left the question of what to do with the fleet of excellent racing shells including two rather new shells. Unfortunately, the care given to these shells by the coaches, and athletes was not shared by the university administration nor the club program they were solid to. I stumbled upon our once vibrant fleet rotting on two sets of racks in the desert. All but one of the racing eights had been destroyed through careless handling, and the fours weren't far off. It was a sad end to a once mighty fleet that won 24 conference championships, several WIRA championships, and had raced to 9th at Head of the Charles.
April flew by with back to back trips down to Palo Alto to face off against the likes of Stanford, Northeastern, Wisconsin, UW, Cal, Hobart, Santa Clara, and UC Davis. We also raced at Washington State University when Gonzaga's home course was frozen out, and raced UCLA in a scrimmage down at Dexter.
We finished with two trips to Lake Natoma for Pac-12s and IRAs.
The season was rough, but fun. Our schedule was easily one of the toughest in the country seeing us face off against the number: 2, 4, 6, 12, 13, 14, 22, and 25 ranked teams in the country. If we were a basketball or football program, there'd be no doubt we'd have made March Madness or made a run at a New Years Day bowl game.
I'd write a more comprehensive recap of Pac-12s and IRAs, but I'm still chewing through those. The program had a habit of showing up against top ranked opponents, but rowing down against other programs it saw as pushovers. We showed up on some days, we did not on others.
It's a maturity issue, and it's a work in progress.
So what's next?
In five days, I will fly out to upstate New York and spend the summer coaching. I may have bit off a bit more than I can chew. I'll be the head coach of the competitive junior boys, and apparently the head coach of the masters and Learn to Row camps. I had thought that I was only going to be an assistant with the last two programs so I will need to look into that situation upon arriving.
And then next year? Next year I plan to return to my current program. I like the direction it's heading, and while this year has been frustrating, it's also been fun, and exciting.
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