I know people are looking for photos from the Blackburn. The only ones I found online are by Richard Hodgkins on SmugMug. You can see the entire Blackburn album if you CLICK HERE. And for future Blackburn Challenge racers, I did learn one thing. If you want to be seen by the photographers ... try to stay close to Greg Barton. I put-in right behind Greg and I'm sure that's the only reason I got two photos in the album.

It's been deadly hot in D.C. as I know it has in other parts of the country. I've been out kayaking a few times but the combination of the heat and the water being so hot makes it pretty unbearable. Fortunately, we had a storm pass through tonight and it dropped about 10 degrees. I think the low will dip below 80 degrees tonight. Almost chilly! This coming weekend I'm taking it easy but the following weekend Shannon and I are headed to Tangier and Smith Islands. I'm going to show her the "secret" island that we camped on last summer.

-Susanita

The Blackburn Challenge is the longest open-water race on the East Coast, a 20+ mile marathon circumnavigating Cape Ann. And I did it, in my ultra skinny, skin-on-frame kayak that Dave Isbell designed and built for me, which I have since named the Isabella. I have to admit I had my reservations about whether I could even finish the race. I had only done one long open water practice run in the Isabella and I was having problems at the end of the day with the beam waves. With a 14" waterline beam the Isabella is very tippy. So the last two weeks before the race I spent most of my time fine tuning the seat and learning how to roll it. I started out as a whitewater paddler so I have a pretty good C to C roll. I just needed to modify the roll to include a layback finish on the back deck. Monday night, a week before the race, I was still practicing my roll in the Chesapeake Bay. And Wednesday night, the night before I was to drive up to Boston, I was cutting and carving out a new foam seat back to match the seat Huki had built for me.

To say that I was nervous and feeling a little unprepared for the race would be an understatement. I knew that the Blackburn was a serious kayak race and all the best kayak racers and surfski racers on the East Coast would be there. As it turns out this year's Blackburn attracted more than 250 rowers. The racing kayak division had the largest turnout ever with over 45 entries. Even Greg Barton, two time Olympic Gold medal kayaker, entered the race in an Epic 18, finishing first among a sea of longer and supposedly faster surfskis. There were four women in the women's racing kayak division. And I had assigned myself last place even before the race began. But none of that mattered. I just wanted to finish and I was hoping to do the course in under four hours.

I arrived in Boston Thursday night and settled in at my cousin's house in Needham, MA about an hour south of Gloucester. Linda and Seth had graciously offered to let me stay the weekend with them. Friday morning I left Needham around 10 am to drive to Cape Ann and scope out othe course. I drove first to Gloucester High School which is the registration and start of the course. In the parking lot I ran into some of the surfski racers. I was hoping to get some first-hand accounts of the course but all of these racers were first timers for the Blackburn. They did warn me that the worse part of the course was the southern tip of the island, the last seven miles. A few of them were putting in and paddling out to the southern tip but I decided to drive around the island and scope out bailout points along the shore. That may sound a little pessimistic but I had read the warnings about the course. The organizers of the Blackburn are very direct that participants should not enter the race unless they have "solid experience in difficult conditions in the boat plan to use."

So I drove around the island stopping whenever I could see a beach and a clear view of the ocean, making notes on my map as to whether the shoreline was rocky or sandy. Most of the coastline around Cape Ann is rocky and inhospitable to kayaks. My last stop was at Niles Beach, just north of Dog Bar Breakwater, the entrance to Gloucester Harbor. The water looked pretty placid and I was tempted to launch the Isabella into the harbor and check out the last section beyond the breakwater. I'm actually glad that I didn't. Because if Friday's surf swells were anything like the swells we had on Saturday I never would have done the course. It was the last section that was beyond anything I had kayaked before. It was probably better that I went into it blind.

I drove back to Needham that afternoon and met Seth at the house. Seth works from home when he's not at his office at National Geographic in DC. The hydration system still needed some work so Seth helped me move the Isabella off the car and onto the front lawn. I had two hydration bladders and I was still trying to decide which one to use and whether to place it forward of the feet or behind the cockpit. The problem with the area behind the cockbit is that it's very small and crowded. Dave Isbell had installed an electric bilge pump back there. So there was the bilge pump and the waterproof casing for the battery. I wasn't sure I could get the larger hydration bladder stuffed back there as well. Seth listened to me explain all the design and planning of the Isabella then he left me to figure out the hydration system alone.

Once Linda returned home the three of us had a quiet dinner of pasta and chicken and I mapped out my strategy for the race. Seth wanted to know how long it would take since they weren't planning to come to the start. They wanted to time it so they met me at the finish. I told him to expect me four hours after the launch of the racing kayaks which was scheduled for 8:20. As it would turn out I hit the time almost perfectly. Linda and Seth were waiting for me at the beach past the "greasy pole" finish around noon and Seth was saying to LInda, "She said she'd be here by now." And almost as soon as he said it Linda said they caught a glimpse of my kayak in the distance. I was right on time!

Race day started early for me. I was up at 4:30 am and on the road by 5 am. It was about an hour drive to Gloucester. I got to the parking lot a little before 6 and saw Kathy Kenley's van parked at the start. Kathy is another kayak racer I met last year and she had left a message on my cell phone late Friday evening to look for her at the race. I knew she would be asleep in her van so I tapped on the window and saw her roll over on her makeshift bed in the back. I probably got a good seven hours sleep the night before. Kathy was probably lucky if she got five. Some racers are tougher than others.

We helped each other unload our kayaks onto the grassy area at the start. Then around 7 we joined the other racers in the cafeteria for the "captain's meeting." I had been under the impression that there wouldn't be any chase boats for the course but I found out at the meeting that there would be five chase boats. There was also a cell phone to call if we got into trouble. Why they didn't give us a VHF frequency I don't know. Cell phones aren't much use if you're drifting out to sea.

The kayaks are grouped by class and the Isabella is classified as a racing kayak because she has a beam of less than 20". The Isabella is fast but because the frame is flexible it doesn't have the top speed of the kevlar and carbon kayaks. The Isabella is a traditional skin-on-frame kayak, or SOF, and it's construction includes a wood skeletal frame covered by nylon fabric. The construction of the kayak is called "traditional" because it mimics the construction techniques used by the original Inuit kayakers in the 1600's. The main difference is they used seal skin for the cover and not nylon fabric, which had yet to be invented. The design and construction of the Isabella is thoroughly documented in the blog so I won't repeat it all here. I will say that in designing the Isabella we had this particular race in mind. I knew I couldn't do it in the surfski. The Huki S1-A is fast, faster than the Isabella. But it's really unstable and I don't have the skills yet to take it out in open water. So the Isabella was designed as a racing kayak which could be rolled.

The course started in the Annisquam River at the railroad bridge. The first three miles are in the river before you dump out into the Atlantic. My strategy for the race was to get into a good rhythm and stay with it for the course. I had two Garmin GPS units on the front deck. The Garmin 305 was programmed with the GPS coordinates of the course. And the Garmin 301 was set up to show speed and elapsed time. I was aiming for 5 mph overall ... which is slow for racing kayaks. But given the nature of the course and my limited experience in ocean waves and current I thought it was a reasonable goal for a first Blackburn.

For the first three miles I averaged about 5.7 mph. But once I hit the open water I drifted down to my original goal of 5 mph. The sea kayaks had started a few minutes behind me and for the rest of the race I saw the faster men kayak past me one by one. My one consolation was the Dories which had launched almost a full hour before the racing kayaks. Dories are two man fishing boats that were lowered over the side of the schooner when the fishing grounds were reached. And it was a dory that Howard Blackburn was rowing in 1883 when he became lost at sea. So the Dory has special significance to the Blackburn Challenge and despite it's particularly slow speed will always be a staple at the race. But what made the Dories fun for me was it was one boat I would be catching and passing throughout the race. I started to think of them as Pac Dories ... like Pac Man. I would look for the Dory in the distance and aim for it. And there were lots of Dories.

Around mile 10, I passed through the channel between the shore and Straitsmouth Island. This was a designated checkpoint. I waved to the boat moored in the channel and passed through. It was around this time that I started to feel the effects of fatigue and low blood sugar. I knew I hadn't been drinking enough for the first 10 miles of the course and now I was hungry and feeling stupid. I knew I needed more carbs but all my snacks were still in wrappers and the the water was starting to get choppy. To grab a power bar or gel pack meant stopping, if only briefly, and balancing in a tippy kayak while I tore open a snack. Easier said than done. I did get one power snack open and laid out on my spray deck but after a few braces into the surf I lost it all in the ocean. Oh well. I had mixed a stronger than normal mixture of Cytomax in the hydration system. I would need to get my power from that.

The next few miles I remember as variously calm and choppy. The wind was coming from the starboard side and the swells were coming from the port side. Around mile 12 the wind picked up considerably. The sky darkened and I could see storm clouds off in the distance. The wind attacked in squalls. I had to lower the angle of my kayak paddle down to where it was almost parallel to the water to avoid being flipped by the squalls. Around this time I saw the first of the upside kayaks. Some people wouldn't make it past this section. In the distance I saw a pair of kayaks turn around and head for shore. I briefly contemplated my options. The shoreline I had just passed was sandy but the shoreline ahead I knew to be rocky. If I continued on and the storm moved in I would have to surf land on rocks. I continued forward.

Around mile 13, I ran into David Moore, a fellow kayaker out of Annapolis who was running the course in a friend's Thunderbolt. David was in the water beside the racing kayak bailing water out of the cockpit. I slowed down and paddled closer. Over the roar of the wind and the blasting of my IPOD (essential racing gear) I yelled over to him and asked him if he was ok. He said he was fine but he couldn't reenter his kayak. Unfortunately the Isabella is only stable when she's moving and particularly unstable in swells. I paddled towards him and around him but I couldn't risk stopping. Looking back I saw some sea kayaks coming towards us. I knew the stable sea kayaks could do an assisted rescue so I paddled on. Later I passed more sea kayaks heading out to greet the racers from a local kayak club and I sent them back in his direction. And for those who are wondering ... he did finish the race.

As the surfski racers had warned me it was the last seven miles which would be the worst. The wind kept squalling on the beam and the swells seem to grow with each mile. As I came upon Dog Bar Breakwater, which protects the harbor, the swells were at least four feet. I had never been in swells that high. A few times my legs started shaking and my paddle strokes deteriorated into what I call bracing strokes. It's when I'm not really paddling but hitting the water with my paddle. KT Tunstall was playing on the IPOD. I had programmed my music selection to end the race with happy upbeat tunes. It helped calm me down. I also knew that as soon as I passed into the harbor the swells would subside. So I paddled hard to get past Dog Bar.

As I paddled into Gloucester Harbor the swells subsided but the last two miles were straight into the wind. My pace slowed to a terminally slow 3.7 mph. I could barely get the Isabella over 4 mph. I still couldn't see the finish and wasn't sure which way to go. There was a double sea kayak in front so I asked if we were close. They said to head for the white building in front and look for the greasy pole. As I got nearer I saw it ... the greasy pole and the time boat moored at the finish. I scanned the beach for Seth and Linda. I spotted Ivy, their huge Bernese Mountain Dog, before I saw them. As Linda held the dog Seth ran out in the water to stabilize my kayak so I could slide out of the cockpit. I had finished my first Blackburn in four hours and seven minutes. And as we walked up the beach they congratulated me ... for getting there "right on time."

-Susanita

I made it! I raced in the Wye Island Regatta. For me, that alone was an accomplishment. A year ago I never would have dreamed of racing a kayak. I was an arm paddler and I was slooooow. Since then I've mastered my surfski, mastered the forward stroke, and learned alot about racing, strategy and preparation. I've come a long way in the world of kayak racing and next year I hope to go even farther. To see David Shames' complete photo album click here.

In the Fall of 2005 I ordered my hot pink Huki/Futura S1-A Surfski . I really had no intention of racing it. I already had an older Futura II and I just wanted a faster kayak (in pink). And the S1-A was designed especially for someone my size. I didn't know anything about racing. But I had heard of the Wye Island Regatta. And I remember pulling up the race results from 2005 and reading the list of women who raced ... I knew Cyndi Janetzko from the Georgetown Pirates, but I had never met the others: Melissa Schmidt, Kathy Kenley, Susan Williams (Lady Justice) and others. I calculated their race times and I was in awe. I was still struggling to paddle over 4 mph. I had a wing paddle but I barely knew how to use it. I was an "arm paddler." I had no torsoe rotation. Basically, I had no technique. And I was sloooow. So the thought of racing in a serious race like the Wye Island Regatta was beyond my comprehension.

My surfski arrived late January 2005. It was the dead of winter but I managed to talk three paddlers I knew from the Pier 7 Pirates into going out with me on the very calm and flat Patuxent River: Brian Blankinship, Alan Dixon and Mark Donigan. I remember inching it out into the river with my feet hanging off the sides for stability. I made my way over to the shore where a branch was sticking out of the water. Carefully I moved my feet into the single footwell and with one hand on the branch I tipped the ski on its side. Back and forth. I wanted to find where the primary and secondary stability was. I found it. Gently I let go of the branch to see if I could balance on my own. Yes! I paddled out into the river and met up with the guys. They were all paddling surfskis and most of them had spent months learning to balance and paddle them.

But for me ... I loved it from the very beginning. That first day I came off the river I was ecstatic. I loved paddling the surfski! Remember the old weebles wobble but they don't fall down? That was me in the surfski. I didn't huli once that day. For me, the S1-A really is "The Perfect Surfski" .




A few months later I attended the South Carolina Canoe and Kayak Festival and took another forward stroke clinic with Greg Barton. That was pre-blog so to see photos from that event on Kodak, click here. He told me to change the offset on the paddle and increase the length to 208 which I did. And he told me to increase the force on the catch. Every little modification seemed to help. I didn't have a GPS but I felt like I was going faster.

But what I really wanted was to take the surfski out on the Bay. And eventually I did. On my first paddle with the Kent Island Practice Paddle (KIPP) group around Kent Island I took my surfski. I also met Susan Williams, Lady Justice, who was one of the serious racers I had read about. I had enjoyed reading her kayak reports on the delmarva listserve. It was nice to finally put a face to the name.

That first day out on the Bay paddling the surfski was pretty hairy. Every muscle in my body was tense from trying to stay upright in the wind and waves. But my goal had always been to be able to paddle the surfski on the Bay so I was intent on pushing it. I also got the chance to talk to Susan about racing. I knew nothing about racing. She actually made it sound like something I could eventually do. The only kayak race I knew about was the Wye Island Regatta. But she sent me a list of all the races on the East Coast that she had compiled and I started thinking seriously about racing the surfski.

Then in April I attended CPA's SK102 skills clinic on Lake Anna and took more forward stroke clinics with Brian Houston, who works for Epic Kayaks (owned by Greg Barton). Again he had me working on increasing the force at the catch. I spent most of the weekend sprinting across the lake. And edging the surfski. I knew I needed to feel totally comfortable in the ski on flatwater first and I had to be able to edge it on the side. Susan Williams came and gave an informal talk on what she called "recreational racing." Susan likes to call herself a recreational racer. I think that means she races for fun. But she's really a serious competitor. Her list of racing accomplishments is long and impressive!

So my goal for the summer was 1) to master paddling the surfski on the Bay in wind and waves and 2) to race in the Wye Island Regatta.

I accomplished both. For most of the summer I paddled every Wednesday night on the South River with the Pier 7 piracy. The South River can get some pretty choppy water because it feeds into the Chesapeake Bay and it has lots of boat traffic. So my practice area for the surfski is a river with wind and waves. I also got the surfski out on the Bay ... one day in 3 foot waves. And I went out kayaking every chance I could get with my kayaking friend and forward stroke coach, David Shames. David is not a racer but he knows the forward stroke. And he's an excellent coach. There were times when I thought I had perfected my stroke and he would point out some small error. He and Brian Blankinship did another forward stroke clinic at Pier 7 and David videotaped us all. Using the video and his excellent coaching I was able to move my paddling to an even higher level. Thank you David!

And I competed in five kayak races. I did the first of the CPA "fun races." It was only 2.7 miles but it was challenging and gave me a taste of what a real kayak race would be like. Then I did the Loyalsock Flatwater Challenge in PA and had a blast. In July I competed in The Nanticoke Kayak Race in Seaford, DE and discovered that prerace preparation should include taking your allergy medications on schedule. And in August I got a taste of what it feels like to go the distance with someone who is equally matched and just as intent on winning when Susan and I competed against each other in The Broadkill Race in Lewes, DE. And lastly I did The Wye Island Regatta.

So I made it. I raced in the Wye Island Regatta. In my tippy 16" wide surfski through various degrees of wind and waves. It was more than I could have hoped for last fall. So for that alone, I feel like the race was an accomplishment.

Of all the races I did this summer the race at Wye Island was probably the most nerve racking. I spent the week before the race paddling in the Adirondacks in my Purple Mirage, a stable sea kayak. I hadn't been in my surfski for over two weeks. Susan had taken me on a pre-race tour of the course at Wye a few weeks before and the water around the island had been like glass. But in the few days before the race the forecast had changed to 1-2 foot waves. I had trained all summer in the surfski in various degrees of wind and waves but I didn't know if I could do it in a race. Tension. Tension. We all felt it. And numerous emails were exchanged between the five of the women racing about weather conditions, race class definitions, and which kayak we were racing.

I was also having a lot of pain in my right arm. In the previous race my right hand had froze up a 1/2 mile into the race from what I believe was lactic acid buildup during the opening sprint. I basically paddled almost 4 miles in intense pain and without being able to move my fingers. I decided that I must have some sort of repetitive strain injury in the right arm and hand which was interfering with blood flow.

So I was nervous about the race. So nervous that I got to Wye Island Saturday morning a full hour before registration. On the way there I stopped at the Kent Island Yacht club and looked at the water around the bay. It was as smooth as glass. I decided to race the surfski. I was nervous about that because I hadn't been in it for over two weeks. So after I got to Wye I got out on the water a full hour before the start. I paddled around and warmed up. I had the heart rate monitor on so I could see my nervousness in big numbers. I wasn't even racing but my pulse was already on race mode! I was also hoping that by properly warming up my arms I could avoid the dreaded lactic acid burn I had been experiencing on the right side after the start.

The pre-race warm up helped to calm me down but it didn't relieve the lactic acid burn. We did a mass start around 10 am. I got to the starting line-up only a few minutes before start. Mentally it caught me off guard and I didn't get the GPS turned on until almost a mile into the race. But like I've done in previous races I took off fast. I was keeping a good pace and was maybe 15 boat lengths behind Cyndi. But my right arm started to freeze up again. I've had a few people tell me I should just paddle through the pain, which I did. But it's not just the pain, the muscles basically freeze up and I can't grip the paddle. I seriously thought about ending the race. Then about two miles into the race I passed under the bridge and Susan caught up with me. I told her about the pain and she asked if I wanted to raft up and shake my arms out. I was very happy to take her up on her offer. Surfskis are not stable when you're sitting still. By rafting up with me she gave me a chance to shake the lactic acid out of the uncooperating right arm. Her friends Cliff and Chris stopped by because they thought Susan had flipped in the surfski. We stayed there for about 3 minutes.

And then we were off. But we kept pace together. A short while later we entered a section of the river with considerably more waves and boat wake. Because I had trained all summer in the surfski on the South River and a little on the Bay this didn't faze me at all. But Susan is a flatwater paddler and she doesn't handle waves in the surfski yet. She looked fine to me, but looks can be deceiving. She said she was scared. So I did what I could to talk her through it and calm her down. Basically a surfski is like a bike. You're only stable when you're moving. So we just kept moving through the waves ... side by side. Occasionally I paddled in front but I kept checking behind to make sure she was upright and paddling.

After we had passed through most of the squirrely stuff (about 2 miles) I noticed her confidence start to improve. She inched her surfski out in front a bit. I knew we would need to start racing again and part company soon. Right about then a nice boat came racing by giving us a nice set of waves on the beam. It didn't faze me but Susan slowed and turned to face the waves. I glanced back and saw that she had drifted maybe three boat lengths behind in that one boat wake. We were nearing the point and I knew the river would flatten out as we came around the corner. And once we were in flat water she would be back in her element. She likes to sprint and I didn't feel like paddling behind her through a second race. So I took off.

There was a white Dory ahead of me so I set my sites on catching up with him. I caught up and found myself in a very wide, comfortable boat wake. Ahhh. The sense of relief. It wasn't my intention to ride the wake. But once I was there I struck up a conversation with the Dory paddler and he was very nice. He had just bought a house last year in PA with his wife and bought the Dory to keep in shape. He did the Wye Island race the previous year and by his accounts ... almost died. Last year it was oppressively hot. I started telling him about my racing and the issue I was having with the lactic acid. We were having a pretty nice conversation and for a while I forgot that we were in a race. Racing can get pretty boring at times. It was nice to have someone to talk to.

Right after we turned the point Susan showed up on my tail. She was trying to sprint after me. Ahhh ... the race. I had almost forgotten about her. I thought she might need a break so I turned and asked her if she wanted to take my place behind the Dory. She yelled something at me that I couldn't hear. So I asked the Dory guy what she said. He didn't know. Maybe it was something he couldn't repeat. But she stopped sprinting and we went back to our conversation.

The rest of the race was pretty nondescript. Susan says I drafted the whole time behind the Dory. I did for awhile. Then I'd start to feel guilty and I'd paddle off to the side. But it was boring paddling on the side. So I tried to chase down another kayaker for a wake ride. That was fun for a while. Then I went after a 6 man team, but of course I couldn't get near them. But I was always keeping pace with the Dory so I decided to paddle behind him a few times. He was nice to talk to and we had this brief symbiotic relationship. He faced to the rear and couldn't see in front without turning. So I told him where to go. And I faced to the front and couldn't see Susan. So he gave me updates on her progress. Basically she was getting further and further behind. The boat wakes were slowing her down. Pretty soon the "race" was over.

But it didn't feel like a real race ... even though Wye Island was the "big race" I had been training for all year. First the issue with the lactic acid almost caused me to quit the race early on. Second I took a three minute break two miles into the race. Third I coached Susan through the waves and didn't race her at all during that period. And finally I drafted the Dory for more than a mile. Not because I needed to ... he was just so nice to talk to. And apparently I wasn't the only one drafting that day!


So I did my first Wye Island Regatta in my surfski. I accomplished my goal. I got a really cute ribbon with a smiley face on it. Susan got one too but in a different color. I threw mine on a shelf somewhere. And the next day I went out paddling with Shannon on the Bay and kept the incredible pace of maybe 3 mph. We put-in at Sandy Point State Park right near the Chesapeake Bay Bridge and paddled across to the other side ... about 4 miles. We had lunch on the beach and she introduced me to canned sardines. They look horrible but they actually taste pretty good. And then we paddled back slowly, chatting and laughing all the way.

And it was a really good day!

-Susanita

Susan beat me by 5 seconds! Five seconds! In the V10 sport which is 3 inches wider than the Huki S1-A. So she came in second and I came in third. I'll get over it. But I'll never let her get ahead of me again! After the race Kathy told me, "Oh yeah. Never let Susan get ahead of you. She trained for sprints for the dragon boat races." Susan and I had never raced in surfskis together. So she didn't know my race strategy (I'm so new to this I really don't have one yet) and I didn't know her race strategy. Now I know. She won't surprise me with a final sprint again!

The Broadkill Race is a 10 mile course from Oyster Rocks Road outside Lewes, DE to the historic little town of Milton, DE. Over 100 people participated in this race. There were a lot of "plastic bathtubs" but there were also a surprising number of surfskis, thunderbolts, and other racing kayaks. Susan had given me a pre-race tour of the course a week before the real race, she in her Mark 1 and me in the Huki S1-A. During the pre-race run it was obvious that Susan was not yet "one with her Mark 1," so she didn't even consider racing it. Then last weekend she had the opportunity to paddle Brian's brand new V10 Sport. She liked it so much she ordered one. And Brian arranged for her to paddle his in the Broadkill race while he raced the V10 grande. Kathy brought her Simon River Laser. Cliff and Cyndi both raced in Thunderbolts. Susan's husband Vince and Chris, whom I met on the Manhattan Circumnavigation, both raced but I don't remember which boats they were in. Sorry...

We met at the put-in on Oyster Rocks road and unloaded our kayaks. Registration started at 0830 but I was there by 0800 and most of my group was already there as well. I was amazed by the number of people registered for this race ... over 100! Susan had told me that it was an annual fundraiser for the town of Milton and it had grown every year. The smaller group of racing kayaks were clearly focused on winning but the majority of the racers, who showed up in all kinds of plastic vessels, seemed to be there mostly for the fun of the event. The race ends in Milton where there is a small festival with miniature train, crafts and lots of food. Ending the race like that really did make it more fun.

And it was all about fun. Even though we're competing against friends we're still focused on enjoying the event. So I had my nails done for the race. And Susan and Judy (secretary for the PA Canoe and Kayak Club) both showed up with pink toenails. Kathy modeled her pink water shoes.

So around 0900 we drove our cars to the take-out and Chris' brother picked us up in his pickup truck to transport us back to the put-in. The race started at 1000 which was plenty of time to do registration and the car shuttle but when the race organizer yelled 5 minutes to start I was still arranging my boat. I wasn't the only one caught off-guard. Brian said he never got his water system set up either.


So over 100 boats were crammed into this little river. I tried to position myself as close to the front as possible as did all the other racing kayaks. But it was tight. And the incoming tide kept pushing me around.

And then we were off! The S1-A accelerates like a jack rabbit. I took off at over 8 mph. Of course, I can't maintain that speed. But for the first mile of the course I averaged 6.8 mph. The Broadkill river is tidal and for both the pre-race and the real race on Sat we were definitely aided by an incoming tide for the first 5 miles of the course. After the river got further inland I'm sure the incoming tide helped us a little but I felt it mostly for the first 5 miles.

For the first half mile I was just keeping pace with the faster men and of course I was lagging. But I was ahead of Cyndi, Kathy and Susan and I was hoping to keep that pace and order. But my forearms were burning. My right arm was almost numb from the buildup of lactic acid. From my years of rockclimbing I'm familiar with lactic acid burn in the forearms. In climbing we deal with it by shaking out one arm while hanging onto the rock with the other arm. Not really possible in kayaking. You need both hands on the paddle. So I paused a few times to shake out my arms. I'm sure the people behind me had no idea what I was doing. But once your arms build up with lactic acid they become like claws. I couldn't really dig the paddle into the water so I tried to increase the stroke rate to compensate.



Pretty soon Cyndi passed me. This was no surprise. She's faster than me. But then I saw Kathy's bow inch up beside me. My arms are still burning and there's nothing I can do. Then I glance around and see it ... the white rabbit. This is what I started to call V10 sport Susan was paddling. It reminds me of a white rabbit. Susan heard me grumble something. And she yelled back something to the effect that she was coming past me (or coming to get me ...).

So she came up beside me and got ahead by a boat length or two. Then we kept pace. Kathy was at least 20 yards ahead of us both. She was clearly coming in second. So it was between me and Susan for third place. I figured the lactic acid in my arms would move out by about mile 5 and then I'd have a chance to pass the white rabbit. Around mile 5 something else happened. Kathy swamped her laser. Susan reached her first. She was deep in the grass pumping the water out. We both paused for a second to see if she need help. Then we were off. The white rabbit still in front.

I was right about one thing. The burn began to subside about mile 5 and my stroke got better. But the white rabbit would not give up her position. I'd paddle harder and start to gain on the beast and it would just paddle harder. I tried sneaking up on the right ... then the left. Nothing worked. The faster I paddled the faster the white rabbit paddled. So I realized this was a losing proposition. If I pushed harder she would just push harder and one of us would burn out. Since I had just regained movement in my right hand I wasn't going to push it.

So my strategy was to tail the little white bunny to the finish line then gather up what remaining strength I had and bolt ahead. Vince, who was following close behind us, told me later that he could see what I was doing. Vince also knew that Susan had trained for sprints in the dragon boat races. So he knew what her strategy was as well. I'm sure he was very amused watching us race it out from behind!

A half mile or so till the end of the race I picked up the pace and paddled up beside her. And then like a jack rabbit she bolted. Of course I bolted after her. But she sprinted faster. As you can see by the table which breaks the race up into 1 mile laps I was indeed pushing it. My maximum heart rate is probably around 185. For the final half mile I was pushing above 180 bpm. And she beat me by 5 seconds!



Afterwards Kathy told me some "Susan race stories" which were very telling! This will certainly change my strategy for the next race. Cyndi came in first and beat us by something like 4 minutes. Susan got second. I got third. And Kathy who should have come in second took fourth. And it was an incredible amount of fun! Next race ... Wye Island. To read Susan's Race Report click here. And here is a link to Cyndi's Race Page. Officially results are now available on the Delmarva Race Page.


-Susanita

Today Susan showed me the course for the Wye Island Regatta which will take place mid-September. I had mentioned to her that I wanted to do the run before the race because of her now infamous Wye Island Circumnavigation Story. And she graciously offered to drive down from Philly and paddle the course with me. The Wye Island Regatta is a 12.4 mile race around the island. An island is a pretty hard landmark to miss. But last year she and Kathy did a pre-race run around the island and turned a 12.4 mile paddle into something like a 35 mile marathon paddle. They missed the turn around the island and basically headed out into the Chesapeake Bay and up a neighboring river. When I first heard the story I thought she must be directionally challenged. How difficult could it be to circumnavigate an island? It's a counterclockwise run. Just keep the island on the left. As it turns out, it's not that easy. Since Susan posted that story at least 13 people have written her to say that they too missed the turn around the island.



Susan is planning to paddle her Solstice and I'll be paddling the surfski for that race so we will not be paddling at the same pace. She carefully pointed out landmarks for me to take note of for the various turns and I took pictures with my digital camera. We kept a steady pace and chatted throughout the paddle. But unlike most group trips I've had with Susan there was no drama! Which is fine with me. I'm sure there will be plenty to blog about after this Saturday's Broadkill race.



Before we loaded up the kayaks Susan asked to sit in my S1-A. She didn't have the nerve to take it far from shore but she did remark that it felt alot more stable than she expected.

-Susanita

Susan and I did a pre-race run on the Broadkill in Lewes, DE this Friday afternoon. Next Saturday there will be a race with over 100 kayaks on this river so I wanted to check the run out before the race. This was primarily for my benefit since Susan has run this course something like 4 times already. She knows every turn by heart. This was also an opportunity for me to see Susan paddling her new surfski, the Mark 1. I've seen it in pictures and I've seen it on her van but I've never seen her paddle it. I also took it out for a spin.

So first impressions ... Susan is not yet "one with her surfski." And I think she is the first one to point that out. She didn't huli once on the 10 mile run but she clearly wasn't at ease. The lower half of her body is tense and straight. I really think she needs to spend some time getting to know the area of secondary stability on the ski. Amazingly she said Kathy, Cliff and Chris said the same thing! Hmmmm.

I took it out for a quick spin as well. My initial impression was it's much wider than the S1-A and slower. I could feel more drag when I was accelerating but once I got it up to speed it felt fine. I'm a little biased though. I love the S1-A!



But ... I kept the GPS on the whole time we were on the river and even though she paddled very intensely and tensely we still made good time. We took a few breaks to chat and for a gatoraid break and we still averaged a speed of about 5.4. I think she would do fine racing the surfski but I think she's going to race the Simon River Laser instead. It's just as fast as the surfski and a little more stable. They're expecting over 100 kayaks to enter the Broadkill. With all that frantic race boat wake she could huli in the surfski and that would throw the whole race off for her.

-Susanita

On Saturday, July 15th I drove to Seaford, DE to participate in the Nanticoke Riverfest Canoe and Kayak Race. This was to be my third race. I was excited about racing the surfski again and anxious to see what my pace would be on another river. I left the house around 7 am and got to the put-in a little after 9 am. I had planned to do some casual paddling on the river before the race. But what I hadn't planned on were allergies.

I have allergies. In fact, I'm allergic to so many things (cats, dust, mold, pollen, ... air) I just stopped keeping count and decided to take the allergy pills every day. Only sometimes I forget. And sometimes I forget several days in a row. And sometimes the days go by like weeks. So I hadn't taken the allergy pills for a long time.

I was about 30 miles outside of Seaford when the sneezing started. Acute allergic reactions always start so innocuously. By the time I got to the put-in my eyes were tearing, my face was swollen and my hands and feet had started to swell as well. I've been hospitalized 3 or 4 times for acute allergic reactions which progressed to anaphylactic shock so I was starting to get a little concerned. I took an antihistamine. And I waited.

I met some of the other racers and killed time by chatting about kayaking and racing. This guy who goes by the nickname "Ice" entertained me for about an hour with various stories. Occasionally I'd ask for his assessment of the swelling around the face and eyes. Things weren't getting any better. Another antihistamine.

By the time Susan and Kathy drove up I was starting to wheeze a little bit and I felt faint. Susan took one look at me and asked, "Do your hands always shake like that?" No. I took another antihistamine. I knew if the antihistamines didn't kick in I'd have to shoot myself up with adrenaline. I carry an Epi-pen which is a one shot dose of adrenaline. But it's a heavy dose and I didn't want to resort to extreme measures unless I had to.

Around noon we took the picture at the top of the post. My hands and feet had stopped swelling and everyone agreed that my eyes were recovering. I concluded that it wasn't my day to die, so I decided to race. I usually feel a normal rush of adrenaline when I'm competing and adrenaline is the drug of choice for allergies ... so I'm thinking that the race might actually be therapeutic. At least that was my rationalization.



The race started at 1 pm. There were maybe 20 kayaks total. A few surfskis, two outrigger canoes, a few plastic bathtubs. There was pretty much one of every type of boat. I didn't do any paddling before the race as planned so I was unsure of the current. It turns out the current was much stronger than I had expected. And there was a lot of gunk in the river. I set the GPS to beep at me if I fell below 4.5 mph. It beeped at me alot for the lap up the river. I wasn't sure if it was the current that was slowing me down or if there was seaweed wrapped around the rudder. So around mile two I decided to take the bold step and stop a casual rec boat kayaker coming down river and ask her to clean the rudder. She pulled off a big chunk of seaweed.

My pace picked up a bit but I was still struggling. Just as a group of us were nearing the turn around I decided to ask for one more swipe of the rudder. Kathy very graciously pulled off another chunk of seaweed.



The return lap down the river just flew by. It's always reassuring when you see nice big numbers in the MPH screen on the GPS. I finished the race at 1:22, which was not a good pace. Only two guys finished before me, but I was still disappointed. The first lap up the river really hurt me alot. I need to talk to some people about the rudder and seaweed issue. I have a kelp guard in front of the rudder, but obviously it wasn't keeping gunk from accumulating. Some racers keep two rudders and use a cut off rudder for racing. I'll have to ask around till I find a solution. And train harder. Wye Island is but two months away.

-Susanita

This Sunday I did my first real long distance race ... the Loyalsock Flatwater Challenge in Pennsylvania. The course was 12 miles long and while that is not a long distance for me to paddle I had never paddled 12 miles without stopping. I really had no idea what it would feel like or if I would even enjoy it. My first race was a real learning experience. First, I found out that racing can be lots of fun. And second I found out that there are very few women racing. As a female all you have to do is show up to get a medal. So for this race I was the only female in the racing class. The rest were all men. And I was sure I would come in last. Actually I came in not far from last. But I kept an incredible pace. I did the 12 mile course in 2:03:34. I was ecstatic. And it gets even better. It turns out that this was a State Championship Race. So now I'm the Women's PA State Kayak Champion for 2006! What a blast!

I love racing!

Saturday I drove half-way to Pennsylvania and spent the evening at Christine's house. Christine used to race competitively so I was honored when she invited me to stay at her house the day before the race. After cooing over her three adorable dogs and adoring her custom built pond and waterfall, we had dinner and discussed ... racing. (Oh, we also discussed regular girl stuff ... relationships and uggh MEN but I won't go into that here.) She helped me perfect my water system and told me stories about her racing career. Then we watched the Brent Reitz Forward stroke video before calling it a night. Originally Christine and I were to drive up to the race together but her daughters invited her to spend the day with them in Philly. One of them just turned 19! So we had our morning coffee and parted company.

I got to Williamsport around 9:30 ... way before the scheduled start of registration at 11:00. But I knew Christine's friend Ron K. would be there. He was one of the organizers and also a racer. I think he told me he finished first in the Nationals four times! In other words, he's fast. The first thing I noticed about Ron was his boat. He paddles a V10. And the boat next to him was a V10. Then the cars started rolling in ... and they were all topped with surfskis and racing kayaks. I knew this was a competitive race but Christine had told me there would be plenty of "plastic bathtubs". I wasn't seeing any plastic bathtubs so I started to get a little worried.



The race was split into two classes: the recreational class would do a 6 mile loop up and down the river and the racing class would do two loops for a 12 mile course. Ron put me in the racing class but I was worried that I would hold things up because these were serious racers. All men. And I knew I was going to come in last. That was a given. I just didn't want to come in too far behind because I knew they would wait for me before giving out the awards.



My friend Susan, from Philly, was also racing that day but in the recreational class. Susan was paddling a Solstice that has served her well in many, many races ... but she's also the proud new owner of a Mark 1 surfski by Custom Kayaks. I met Susan for the first time when we were both doing a training paddle around Kent Island. And we were surprised by our similar preferences in boats. Both Susan and I own purple kayaks. And both Susan and I had bought Fuschia (hot pink) surfskis. And of course, our names are both Susan, although I go by Susanita most of the time now.



Both Susan and I were in awe at the number of racing kayaks that were coming in. We kept looking for the plastic bathtubs but there weren't any. I think the total turnout for the race was somewhere near 40! We found out later that this race was a state championship race so it was well-attended by serious racers. I've never seen so many Epic kayaks in one place!

I usually carry two pieces of electronic equipment when I paddle the surfski: my GPS and my waterproof IPOD. I adjusted my IPOD and switched it on to a selection of fast kayak music I had selected specifically for the race ... mostly AC/DC with a little Bon Jovi thrown in. But the GPS had run out of juice. As it turns out I think that may have worked in my favor.

The racing class started first. The guys were quite impressed with my hot pink surfski and the hot pink bandana I wear around my neck. Several commented that I was the most color coordinated racer out there. If I had to come in last, at least I'd come in last in style.

The super serious racers bolted ahead of me right away. I found a slower pack at the rear and just tried to keep pace with them. The first three miles were probably the worst. I didn't warm up prior to the race so I had a lot of lactic acid burning in my forearms. By mile 5 the burn was gone and I started to settle into a comfortable pace. By mile 8 I was cooking. I had no idea how fast I was going I just kept paddling harder trying to keep pace with the last group of men. When I finally finished and heard my time I was floored. I did a 12 mile race in 2:03:34! This was an incredible time for me. It meant I was paddling at or above 6 mph for a good portion of the course. I was ecstatic!

And here's the best part. As I was chatting with the other racers after the course, Ron runs over to me and says, "How would you like to compete for the state championship?" So I said, "Sure, why not?" So now I'm the Women's PA State Kayak Champion for 2006!



How cool is that???

-Susanita