Getting close to home

Waterford, on the Hudson!

37 miles

The hills of Troy near the end of the Erie

Gentle reader, much time has elapsed since my last entry, but I’ve been busy … and hopefully, you have, too. The only activity more boring than watching a guy row is watching people waiting for his blog about rowing. In the words of my brave sister Tia, ‘Keep moving.’

Last night – all of yesterday in fact – was dominated by very bad storms …. Lots of heavy rain, lightning, the kind of stuff that pins a rower to the shore, hiding under an overhanging bough, wondering if hiding under a high object is really such a good idea.

I pitched my tent in a driving rainstorm, thus assuring an aquatic nocturnal repose … wet, a little cold, and hey, what’s that smell?

I met Marco in the maelstrom, a plucky canoer on his way to Brooklyn. He’s kayaking a canoe – the physical demands of which are beyond my comprehension – but Marco looked buff and up to the task. He’d wisely strapped a bike to his canoe; we should all have an escape pod. Godspeed, Marco!

Today dawned grey but turned hot, yet the best good fortune of the day emerged from the very rain that made my night so miserable; the lock crews and dam fellows were letting a lot of water flow downstream, so by pure meteorological serendipity I was seeing 1-2 extra mph on my mach meter, allowing me to get to Waterford today – the end of the Erie – through 8 locks. This felt like a Big Day.

Free propulsion

Tomorrow I turn north on the Champlain Canal … and all the rain water will be coming at me. It all evens out. I’ll lose 1-2 mph, but I’m in my last 100-mile leg, and sheer mad-dog willpower may count for something. I’m finally confident of my conditioning … but I’m itching to get home, too. Could be a bad combo?

I damaged the boat yesterday by ramming a submerged log. The cutwater at the waterline took a real ding, and now the boat yaws to the left with every stroke instead of tracking on rails as is its usual manner. Tonight I’ll try a duct tape repair … and hope for just a bit of improvement.

Tonight, when I pulled into Waterford, I was greeted by Jane and Charles Williamson, the kind of folks who know intuitively that Gator Aid, water, and Vitamin Water can’t take you to places accessible by vodka and tonic. These open hearts along the way are an unchoreographed pleasure of this trip – delightful people taking like at their own speed, generous with their time, curiosity, and libations. Godspeed, Jane and Charles! They are headed north to Champlain as well, so our paths my well cross again.

I’m getting all the food groups in with this Shepherd’s Pie, my first legit meal since lunch yesterday, and as I write this my stuff is strung out on trees and bushes in the park, drying out from last night’s deluge. Life is good.

You get hungry, maybe you get a Shepherd’s Pie.

You get wet and cold, maybe the sun comes out.

You want to talk to nice people unconditionally, you meet Jane and Charles.

You want your boat to track straight again, you find some duct tape.

I’m a simple man of simple needs these past 16 days. And lucky, too.