Duct Tape Hull Repair, Take 3

Once dessert was baking in the oven, the C1 was brought up to the living room for its long overdue re-taping. You see, I haven't been in my boat in almost a week. Time to eliminate my excuse and get back on the water.

We pulled the last duct tape job off to thoroughly investigate the damage. I knew where it was leaking, but wanted to know how much of the structure was gone at those spots. The stern and bow are in pretty sorry shape, as is the cockpit rim in several sections. There are also two cracks in the hull, about 3 feet back from the cockpit.

Photos of the damage are online here.

My duct tape technique is improving. Who needs carbon fiber, right? First, I put on a layer of tape to seal off the hole & provide some structure. Plastic knives work wonders for bracing sections of cracked cockpit rim. I then use a plastic bag (Ziploc heavy-duty freezer bags are awesome) cut to size over the damage. They fit snugly over the bow and stern. I then add a second layer of tape over this, rubbing it on to ensure a good bond.



It is a lot of work for something I keep doing over & over again, but it’s worth it. When I took off the Mississippi after an hour session this morning, I didn’t even have a liter of water in the boat (normally I get a liter every 15 minutes). We’ll see how long this try holds up.

Cycling Mis-Adventures

By car, I live about 20 miles from work. Via bike, it shouldn’t be more than 25 or 27. I woke up this morning thinking about my neglected bianchi. It had been days since I’ve done any intense physical activity, and my body was telling me in no uncertain terms that it needed some. Badly.

I finally found my road shoes while unpacking this weekend, and so decided it was about time I started riding to work. I had ridden home once before – but after an unplanned rugby game on the way home, and the subsequent hanging out – it was dark, late and not much fun. I also discovered that the Dougherty Ferry bridge across 270 is gone. But I digress.

Today I gave myself an hour and a half to get to work. Plenty of time. I don’t have internet at my house (um, or a map) so couldn’t double check my route, but I assumed I would figure it out.

The city is very different than the county. I keep realizing this in different ways the more time I spend in Ballwin. In the city, if I have a cardinal direction, I can get anywhere. The layout of streets makes sense to me. The county is a curvy, windy mess.

So, long story short, I went the wrong way. When the road I thought was clayton dead-ended into a highway and I realized the sun was not in my eyes but rather over my right shoulder, I sheepishly called a friend. She gave me directions and offered a ride, but I was determined to get myself out of this mess. She showed up anyway -- found me sweaty and peddling down Clayton road near Ballas. At least I was heading east. Setting my pride aside for a moment, my quads were happy to see her. Thanks, Michele.

I get to try again as I bike home tonight. Perhaps this time I will look at a map first. I'm frustrated about being late to work, but my body is loving this. Last year I had done close to 5,000 miles on my bike by August, this year I am not even at 1,000. It's good to be back on two wheels.

rough week

Every thing is going right and yet I still feel awful. One of those times were you have to just keep being productive, and assume your psyche will get itself in gear within a day or two.

I'm not unpacked yet, and that isn't helping. No internet at the new house so I'm not posting frequently, sorry. I don't have all that much on my plate, really, but with training and work taking up about 98% of my time, I feel overwhelmed by all the little things that pile up so quickly. And trying to kick the mild caffeine addiction at the same time doesn't help either.

So -- I'm here, I'm still paddling, and more stories are on their way soon.

subido pics

James Subido has posted his pictures from Colorado here. They are mostly shots of talented kids tearing it up at the Junior Olympic races. There are some really great moments -- definitely worth looking through. Thanks, James!

the search begins

There has to be a decent training site within 30 minutes of my house. There just has to be. I live near the confluence of three major rivers, a junction of waterways that collectively drain a watershed of over one million square miles. The Mississippi clocks by Saint Louis at a healthy pace of 168,000 cubic feet per second. I'm not asking much -- I don't need whitewater -- I just want a place where I can hang a few dozen gates over some current. That's not too much to ask, is it?

Yesterday I drove and paddled all day, investigating sites on 4 rivers and 2 creeks. I found a small river that looked promising, except it was in a clearly residential area. I thought I would at least stop and chat w/ some of the folks (let them know why I was repeatedly driving down their street at 5mph, staring at the water) and ask if they had any ideas. But, for a Sunday afternoon, there was no one around. One house had small building in front. 8 bar stools circled a small open-air bar, which appeared to be well stocked. The sign read "tiki bar, OPEN" but no one was around. A cat sat on the bartender's stool, watching me expectantly. When I drove by 10 minutes later, he was still there. Clearly, the bar was his territory.




Later in the day, I did find two potential sites. Both of which have major drawbacks.

"Site A" is 5 minutes from my house, a nice bonus. It's extremely coach friendly; there's practically a raised viewing platform. The area is small, only about 30 feet wide and long enough to hang 10 gates. It would be easy to hang gates here. There is no current to speak of. Huge fish. My biggest concern with the site is the water depth. It is just barely deep enough as is, and it has dropped nearly 5 feet since I first investigated a month ago. I worry it will keep getting shallower over the summer.

"Site B" was an adventure. 40 min from my current house, and access is terrible. Deep into mega-industry land, it is impossible to get here without trespassing. I need to see if I can put on the Mississippi upstream and paddle down. The shore is not coach friendly -- my friends will need to invest in big rubber boots and a machete to get through the brush. The size is perfect, long enough to hang 30 gates, and wide enough to set many combinations. The width between the tree lines does mean it will be a huge pain to set gates, but it is do-able. 6+ feet deep right now. I know the level fluctuates, and I have seen it much lower, but I have better hopes for this site than site A.

And now for my biggest concern - the water quality is AWFUL. Unchecked industrial pollution and the outflow from a wastewater treatment plant means I would never want to get splashed by the stuff. The best part through, is the proximity to the Mississippi. I can go play in the waves. That is really good for me - to have something moving the hull around besides myself. Interaction of forces. Good.

So I am going to keep looking; no winners yet. The search resumes today.

twelve days on the front range

I swear the Rocky Mountains have their own gravitational pull. It's good I-70 is basically downhill all the way to the mississippi river, otherwise I'm not sure I would have made it back.

All the races took place in Golden, just east of the front range. The weather was amazing. Hot, but without St. Louis' you-can-cut-the-air-with-a-knife humidity. The water was snowmelt, and swims were a shock to the system. I swam out of my C1 several times in the first few days.

In US Cup 3, I finished with a DNF after a swim at gate 10. The course was actually a great level for me. Clearly challenging, but not overwhelming. I set my sights on the race the following weekend.

During the week, I had a chance to travel west into the mountains. We ran brown's canyon on the Ark. It was stunning, and was wonderful to just run a river. As usual, it left me hungry for much, much more. I also got a chance to scout a few of the famous class V colorado creeks... I'd never seen whitewater like that before in my life. Incredible. I was able to train on a course in Salida, and on gates hung on the Platte River in downtown Denver. Several Junior Olympic events also took place during the week. A highlight was watching the cadet and junior C1 playboats rock the hole with pirouettes and even a phonics monkey. Okay, I don't really know what that is. But it looked very cool.

By the second weekend, I'd figured a few things out. I was in a different boat, and comfortable on the water. Staying upright was no longer my biggest concern -- I wanted to race! But on my first run, I reverted back to old habits. I waited for stability on my stern; I wasn't really racing.

My second run was better. Much better. My raw time dropped from 231.70 to 198.30. I got on my bow. I drove the boat. I raced. The was a magic moment just before gate 16, three quarters of the way down the course. For just a few seconds, I was in control enough that I could accelerate the way I'd been doing on flatwater all week. My abs, quads, and back all poured power into my stoke. I came into gate 16 tight, turned up through it, and peeled back out with my eyes already on 17. The moment was brief, but it was a glimpse of where I could be heading. I'm hungry for more of that. I believe the word might be autotelic. Addicting. Maybe they are the same thing.

The trip was truly made amazing by the kindness and generosity of the paddling community. I stay in the house of a family I had never met, and was welcomed like an old friend. I received advice from coaches and athletes from all over the country. This is the atmosphere slalom needs to nurture and build off of. I am so glad I decided to travel here.

More colorado photos are here.

Taz mania?

Who knew that 25 lbs of carbon-kevlar could get a girl this excited?

I am nothing short of ecstatic. The asparagus boat has been very good to me, but I am already outgrowing it. When I paddle this boat, I can feel potential. It has edges that I can't wait to get to know & use.

Of course, it's only new to me. The previous owner paddled it hard, and there is a lot to fix. The bow and stern both need major repair, there are several cracks in the hull, and the seam tape (between the deck and the hull) needs to be replaced. The biggest obstacle, however, was the seat.



Quite honestly, my butt didn't quite fit. And that hurt. After the first day I had some pretty amazing bruises where the hip supports dug into me. The boat felt so much better on the water than the green boat - I was determined to paddle it - but I paid for it. After one particularly rough wet-exit (I ended up with bruises the size of baseballs on both legs), my friend Laura (aka LA) told me we had to do something that night.




So we did. Nic, Joel and I took turns grinding the seat out. After trying a few different powertools and sacrificing a few inches of cockpit rim, we finally got it all. Dust and shavings were everywhere. Some toxic, epoxy cloud had come to snow all over my boat.



With help, I built a foam pedestal. After paddling other C1s during the week (like joel's and tom's, I had a good idea of what I wanted. I reinforced the busted cockpit rim with strips of hard plastic, and put duct tape over the cracks in the hull. It still needs a lot of work, but it was ready to get on the water.

Paddling the Taz post gut-rehab was totally different. Instead of being strapped on top of a boat (thereby balancing "on" it), we were connected. My lower body relaxed. I relaxed.

I realized that this could get dangerously fun.

Click here for the rest of the Taz pictures.

Finally!

After several hours in city hall, my plates are finally renewed! I spent a fair bit of time here, back in the days when my life revolved around city politics. It was a little strange and bittersweet to be wandering the same halls. I can vividly remember pacing outside the mayor's office, nervously smoothing the front of my suit for the thousandth time, and wondering just how obvious it was that I was only 22. I think I miss that life more than I realize.

video from Colorado

Joel threw together some footage of me working on a ferry in Salida, CO:

http://www.joelmccune.com/node/118

This was about halfway through the trip. When I show up in the blue C1, it is my first time ever in that boat. Getting our love / hate relationahip off to a great start, I ended up with several bruises from the seat which did not fit.

I have actually written a trip report from colorado (including some great pictures) but my laptop hasn't been connected to the interent since I've returned to St. Louis. Hopefully by the end of the week it will all be posted!

get off your stern and paddle

When I am racing slalom, my reaction to instability gets me into trouble. When I feel out of control, I tense up and wait for the boat to stabilize before I continue. The problem is, slalom boats aren't happy when they are going slower than the water. My habit only makes things worse; the water grabs the edges and I loose momentum. What I need to do when I feel unstable is paddle aggressively forward. Getting on the bow, building up speed, and driving ahead will stabilize the boat almost instantly. That needs to become my habit, my gut reaction.

I was thinking about this as I waited in the St. Louis County Department of Revenue office today -- studying the other folks in the room, clutching a little slip printed with "247," which told me I only had 6 people in front of me. My friends know that I have a remarkable ability to procrastinate, often on the things that are most important to me. I think here I also "wait and see" -- when I feel out of control or overwhelmed, my habit is to shy away from the action until I feel better. This doesn't mean I won't jump headlong into big challenges, it just means that sometimes I'm caught sitting back on my stern when things get pushy.

And that's not okay. I don't want to be a "wait and see" boater and I certainly don't want to live my life that way. When things get unstable, I need to be on my bow, looking ahead & driving forward.

Today was rough. I tend to function well when my life is very full, but not *this* full. My to-do list has about 30 pretty urgent things on it. I can get some done online, but no internet at my new house yet. Plus, my laptop needs a new battery, and won't function without the powercord, which is in my car, which is in the shop. Just after fixing the left headlight and blinker, the right goes out, getting me pulled over so the cop can also see my plates are expired. So I spent hours and hours today getting sent from office to office because apparently moving from the county to the city and back while trying to pay personal property taxes is a very dumb idea. And everything I own is still packed in boxes, making the search for my car’s title a small archeological expedition. And my boat leaks. And my shoulders hurt and this really scares me because I’m putting other parts of my life on hold for a sport in which my butt is still getting whooped by 14 year-olds.

Okay, done whining. I needed to vent, and more importantly, crush my blog's image as a "upbeat school newsletter" (Hi, Dave!). Life is actually quite fabulous. Once I am unpacked and get a few nights with a full 8 hours of sleep, constantly-optimistic Laura should be back in full force.

it just doesn't get any better than this

too much to do to spend time typing!