Salem League 8/13/13: Racing on a Mill Pond

If you're looking for the Jamestown Double Beaver race report, you can find it here.

The forecast for the evening as of early afternoon was for rain with intermittent thunderstorms, leading Ed to consider canceling the race.  Fortunately, he decided we should give it a try.  It turned out to be a glorious evening with clear skies and little wind.  Salem Sound was about as glassy as I'd ever seen it.  Ed decreed that we'd run double-header course #4.

I've had trouble with this course.  We've run it twice this year (once as a non-stop course) and both times Francisco has destroyed me, coming in well over a minute ahead.  High tide was a couple of hours before race time, so we'd had have the ebb helping us on the way to Black Rocks and coming back from the red nun.  On the other spans, we'd be on our own.

Nobody will be amazed to hear that Francisco and Matt got off the line first.  However, I also had a good start and caught them before Lynch Park point.  With me on the inside and Francisco on the outside, Matt found himself squeezed out as we took the turn.  Uncharacteristically, I found myself with the lead less than two minutes into the race.  I pulled away from shore to take advantage of the tide and gave it all I could, not knowing whether Francisco was hanging on or not.

In the heat of the moment, I skirted Black Rocks a little more closely than I should have, watching submerged rocks pass inches below my hull.  After completing the turn, I got a gander at the rest of the field.  I had expected to see Francisco close behind, but was surprised to see a pack of four paddlers (Francisco, Matt, Kirk, and Mike) hanging tightly together a fair ways back.  I appeared to have a solid lead, but wanted to nail down a big as an advantage as possible going into the second leg, so I maintained a slobber-flying level of effort.  By staying closer to shore, I was able to minimize the impacts of the ebbing tide while finding a few tiny swells to boost me along.

The finish order of the first leg was me, Francisco, Matt, Kirk, Mike, Ken, Bruce, Bill, and Mary Beth.  I had a 1:49 advantage over Francisco, which I thought was probably enough to cement the win for the night.  Francisco must have felt the same way, because he and Kirk switched boats for the second leg.

We all adopted the same navigational strategy on this leg - keep to the shallower waters inside when heading to the red nun, then stay outside in the channel on the way back.  Matt and Francisco jumped out to the lead.  My start wasn't great, so it took me a few minutes to catch up.  After sparring with Francisco for a while (a weird experience with him in a V12), I took the lead about halfway to the turn-around.  I was again surprised by how little of an effect the outgoing tide was having on my speed and wondered if perhaps I had overestimated the tidal currents.

After rounding the red nun, it became immediately obvious that the tide was in fact ripping along in the channel.  My GPS was showing numbers in the high 8's right after the turn.  So this is what it must be like to be Dorian, I thought.  My speed dropped a little as the channel widened, but I was able to stay well over 8 mph for most of the return to the beach.  With such favorable conditions, I thought I had a reasonable shot at the course record, so I kept pushing and panting through the finish.  The effort paid off.

Francisco and Matt had a good battle for second place, with Francisco ending up only a second ahead overall.  Mike overcame his deficit in the first leg to edge out Kirk, with both finishing less than a minute behind Matt.  Here are the full results:

Greg Lesher	Epic V10 (New)	0:38:02	12
Francisco Urena	Stellar SE	0:41:01	11
Matt Drayer	Epic V8	0:41:02	10
Mike McDonough	Huki S1-X	0:41:26	9
Kirk Olsen	Epic V12	0:41:46	8
Ken Cooper	Epic V10 Sport (New)	0:43:13	7
Bruce Deltorchio	Think Eze	0:44:20	6
Bill Kuklinski	Epic V10 Sport (New)	0:46:21	5
Mary Beth Gangloff	Huki S1-R	0:52:29	12

I'm up 3 points on Francisco, hoping to hang on in the final 2 races of the season.

Salem League 7/2/13: School's Now In Session

If you're looking for the Ride the Bull race report, you can find it here.

If you're looking for the Casco Bay Challenge race report, you can find it here.

With light SE winds and a high tide, course #4 was to be our evening's entertainment.  This is a double-header course, the first leg being to Black Rocks and back, the second leg being to the red nun and back.  I had high hopes for the race.  I was well rested.  We'd be doing an upwind-downwind run in mild conditions, so instability wouldn't be a significant issue.  Deciding to sow my wild hubris, I flipped my GoPro around to face backwards.  With any luck, I'd be able to catch Francisco's anguished look as I pulled into the beach ahead of him to regain my share of the season lead.  In retrospect, I may have poked the bear.

Ed started us off after we had lined up for our short run to the boats.  I got off to a relatively good start, meaning that I didn't actually have to squint to make out Francisco and Matt.  Kirk was on Matt's wash to my left and Francisco was up ahead to the right.  As Matt led Kirk closer to shore to duck out of the wind and incoming tide (but going close enough to do a little beach-combing while they were there), I stayed out further with Francisco.

In the past, I've been able to catch Francisco after several minutes of paddling, although passing him after that has proved a hit-or-miss proposition.  Tonight I couldn't seem to make up any ground.  As we approached Black Rocks, I remained 3 or 4 lengths behind him.  Just as I was completing the turn, I felt my boat bogging down.  I quickly reversed to shed some weeds (whether real or imaginary, let's not speculate) and put myself to the task of tracking down Francisco.

I kept way outside hoping to take advantage of the wind and waves, but there wasn't much in the way of help.  Even though I felt stable and was hammering away, Francisco was pulling away.  By the time we hit the beach to finish the first leg, he had an insurmountable 53 second lead.  Matt inched out Ken about 45 seconds behind me - a remarkable recovery by Ken after stopping to perform some kind of mystical leash escape trick during the Le Mans start.  Kirk, Bill, Timmy, and Mary Beth rounded out the finishers.

The second leg was very similar to the first for me.  Francisco got out to an initial lead of several boat lengths, followed by Matt and myself.  I managed to pull past Matt, who then stuck on my stern to provide a soundtrack for my misery.  Although it looked like I was making up ground on Francisco, I stalled at several boat lengths back.  After the turn at the red nun, he pulled away effortlessly, ultimately putting another 30 second advantage on me.  I barely kept ahead of Matt, who took third by besting Ken for the leg by 40 seconds.

After 4 weeks of extremely close races, Francisco had schooled me by almost a minute and a half.  Given that I didn't feel like I had paddled badly, I wondered how exactly I had done so badly.  Until I checked the historical results, that is.  Francisco had run the fastest course #4 since 2008.  That's not a good sign for the rest of us.  Here are the results for the evening...

Francisco Urena	Stellar SE	0:40:39	12
Greg Lesher	Epic V12	0:42:02	11
Matt Drayer	Epic V8	0:42:58	10
Ken Cooper	Epic V8	0:43:43	9
Kirk Olsen	Epic V12	0:44:49	8
Bill Kuklinski	Epic V8	0:47:29	7
Timmy Shields	Think Evo II	0:48:30	6
Mary Beth Gangloff	Huki S1-R	0:55:42	12

Francisco now holds a two point lead in the season standings.  If tonight was any indication, it's going to be difficult to knock him from his perch.

Salem League 5/21/13: The Race Is On

The 8th Salem League kicked off this past Tuesday with a solid field of 10 paddlers, including several first-time participants.  Besides myself and Mary Beth, we had Francisco Urena (warming down from his Molokai run on Sunday), Bill Kuklinski (after breaking through a PETA picket line), Ken Cooper, Matt Drayer, Bruce Deltorchio, Rick Stoehrer (the previous 5 paddlers all in V8's), Ciro de la Vega (in an FSK), and Rod McLain (in his trusty OC-1).  As always, Ed Duggan was serving as ringmaster of the circus.

For readers unfamiliar with the Salem League, here's a summary.  Each Tuesday over the summer we meet at Lynch Park in Beverly to race one of five courses (in the 5 to 6 mile range), chosen at random each week (with adjustments to randomness based on weather, tide, and sunlight conditions, as necessary).  The start is "Le Mans style" - we run a short distance down the beach, grab our boats from the shore, carry them out to deep enough water, hop in, and paddle.  The finish is likewise on land, requiring a refreshing run up the beach to cap off the evening.  Paddlers are awarded points based on their position for the evening, with points being tallied over the course of the season to determine the League champion.

That clinical description of the League omits the visceral component.  This ain't no bridge club.  You're struggling against the same set of relentless competitors week after week, in what amounts to a series of 45 minute sprints.  It's grueling and painful, but in an immensely satisfying way.  The League is just about the most fun you can have while dry heaving.

Based on my warm-up paddle, I sensed it would be a tough evening.  My strategy this season has been to concentrate on conditioning and form to prep for the early flatwater races.  Nearly all of my training has therefore been on lakes, rivers, and ergs.  After the Essex, I figured I'd ramp up my ocean workouts to get ready for the ocean races.  With only one ocean paddle before this race, it looked like I'd instead be cliffing up.  The moderately sloppy conditions weren't abnormal for Salem Sound, but they were sufficient to make me question my training methods.  I had made my bed, now it was time to sleep (with the fishes?) in it.

Because of the weather - the possibility of thunderstorms and limited visibility - Ed wisely kept us close to shore with a non-stop version of course #4.  We'd be heading 1.5 miles out of Beverly Harbor along the coast (into a 15 mph or so headwind), circle Black Rocks shoal, head 2.1 miles back into the harbor, circle a buoy (Red Nun #10 - also a fine Cabernet), then head the 0.9 miles back to the Lynch Park beach.

Like vegemite and self-flagellation, the Le Mans start is an acquired taste.  My race starts this year have been poor enough without adding running, toting, and mounting into the mix.  Despite many years of living and two years of practice in the League, I have yet to master any of these skills.  When the smoke (don't ask) cleared, I was 10 lengths behind Rod and Francisco, both notorious cheaters (but like any skilled con-men, adept at making it seem like everything is legit).  Most of the guys in V8's were also ahead of me, although I at least managed to slow down Matt with a well-timed paddle whack.

Battling upwind through uneven conditions, I slowly moved through the V8 squadron, then eventually passed Rod.  Francisco was still 8 or 9 lengths ahead, but I was making up ground despite feeling a little wobbly.  As we approached the turn-around, Francisco appeared to lose his bearings, looking back to reassure himself that he hadn't already past Black Rocks.  Even though we were a couple of hours from high tide, only a handful of the rocks were peaking out up ahead.  He quickly spotted them and continued onwards.

Rounding Black Rocks I was 4 or 5 lengths behind Francisco, but it soon became evident that I wasn't going to continue gaining in the downwind (ish) conditions.  Already feeling the effects of balance fatigue after our short upwind (ish) run, I started throwing braces like hand grenades.  Francisco started to pull away.  It was going to be second place for me, at best.  Then fortune smiled on me: I hit a floating two-by-four.  Although I didn't realize it at the time, that thump of lumber against my hull was actually the sweet sound of an air-tight alibi...  There was no way I could have won that race, officer!  My boat was compromised!

It was obvious that something was wrong.  Whereas before I had been flailing with a purpose, now I was just flailing haphazardly.  I couldn't stay on course.  At first I thought perhaps my rudder had been snapped clean off, although the collision hardly seemed violent enough for that.  It slowly dawned on me that the rudder had been bent slightly backwards so that it was wedged against the hull.  I had binary steering.  If I pushed the left pedal really hard, the rudder would eventually work free and swing to full left deflection.  Although my politics tend in that direction, I prefer a more centrist position for racing.  I'd therefore lean on the right pedal to restore my middle-of-the-road course, ultimately resulting in a swing to the far right as the rudder again would stick on the hull momentarily before bursting free.

After struggling with deviant navigational behavior for a couple of minutes, I realized that I'd finish dead last unless I could fix the problem.  I performed an intentional dismount (for those cynics inclined to scoff at this assertion, I have semi-controvertible video proof) and made my way back to the rudder, where I struggled to get enough leverage to loosen the bind.  While enjoying the soothing Atlantic waters (53 degrees), Rod, Matt, and Ken passed me.  No matter, I thought.  With restored steering, my V12 would assert its extra 4 cylinders and I'd quickly catch Matt and Ken.  And with only one blade and not a single V, what hope would Rod have?

After a blown slow-motion remount, I was in my boat again.  I had fixed the problem and was back in business.  Unfortunately, I had forgotten that while the faulty rudder had exacerbated my difficulties, I had been operating in the red even before the crash.  I was misfiring every few strokes, counteracting most of the speed advantage my slender boat was providing over the slower vessels.  I slowly gained ground, but it wasn't until we were nearly at the second turn-around that I managed to get back into second place.  Catching Francisco was never an option.

There was some confusion about which buoy to turn around, in part because the target nun was screened behind a couple of moored boats (as is her habit).  I saw Rod peel off around the first nun, but confident that the peek-a-buoy was hiding somewhere up ahead, I kept my line, with Matt and Ken following.  Sure enough, the buoy leaped out from behind the boats at the last possible second, setting me up for an overly wide turn.

Heading back to the finish, I could hear Matt revving close behind me.  Although we were in the relatively protected waters of the harbor, I was having more trouble than ever maintaining a steady stroke.  After each frequent brace I expected to see his V8 pull alongside and then inexorably drop me into third.  Fortunately, I was able to hold on just long enough, squeaking out a 14 second advantage over Matt, with Ken just 7 seconds behind him.  Here are the results (skis only)...

Francisco Urena	Stellar SE	41:26	12
Greg Lesher	Epic V12	42:58	11
Matt Drayer	Epic V8	43:12	10
Ken Cooper	Epic V8	43:19	9
Bruce Deltorchio	Epic V8	44:52	8
Bill Kuklinski	Epic V8	46:37	7
Rick Stoehrer	Epic V8	49:44	6
Mary Beth Gangloff	Huki S1-R	58:42	12

It was an exciting opening night, despite the absence of some of the stalwart League paddlers from the past couple of years (Mike McDonough, Kirk Olsen, and Graeme Rockett).  I'm looking forward to another great season of masochism and camaraderie.