Three days until launch…

Greetings, Gentle Reader, June 18, 2009

Three days until launch…and I’m starting to feel a bit like Noah. The rain started last week, continued right through to torrential rains last night here in Baltimore, and culminated in a monsoon-like deluge while I trekked the aisles of Target this afternoon, provisioning for the row. The roof of the big box store thrummed under the impact of the rain; imagine what it will sound like on my floppy hat.

To be sure, the weather guessers predict a respite on Sunday and for the first few days of next week (if that is indeed what the whimsical Weather Channel icon of the bright little sun peeking over the dark, brooding cloud might mean), but for the purposes of my row, the damage is already done. All of this water will be hitting the mouth of the Potomac just as I make my turn up the river, 110 miles from my destination, and the image of rowing on a treadmill comes uneasily to mind.

It will be what it will be, Gentle Reader. Let it rain. Whatever.

“So, what did you buy at Target, Mr. Frei?” you might be asking inquisitively, wondering what an intrepid rower plans to place in his boat. Are you actually curious? Really? Well, here goes; take a peek into ‘lil Magellan’s storeroom:12 Cliff Bars (blueberry), 6 Kellogg Rice Krispie Bars, 4 packs of dried tuna, 4 packs of dried chicken, two bags of dried blueberries, one bag of dried bananas, two cans of Hungry Man Chili, two cans each of Chunky Sirloin Burger and Chunky Chicken soups, six bags of assorted beef and chicken jerky, four cans of Starbuck’s Double Shot coffee, two gallons of Gatorade, two gallons of water, various ointments, bandages, first aid tape, bug spray, sun goop, TP (sumputous six-ply; I‘ll be sitting a lot), vitamins, an allegedly rejuvenating protein powder, batteries, lube for the oarlocks, and, of course, duct tape, Gotta’ have duct tape. After all, something might go wrong.

While I expect to eat more than a few meals off the boat, by Day Three I’ll be shadowing quite a bit of sparsely-populated shoreline. Past experience has taught me that being caught short on provisions is a real bummer. Besides, all of the above does not account for very much weight (except for the liquids, the need for which is not debatable); my boat actually gains stability- and speed- if it rides a little lower in the water.

Of course, this list describes only the consumables. In addition to a small sea bag of dry clothing, I’ll be hucking my tent, a sleeping pad and bag, a mosquito net, a tarp, charts, flares, headlamps, a VHF radio, a nifty lightweight folding anchor (if I have to stop on the river, I don’t want to have to row in place), a sponge, a bailing jug, and a cheesy transistor radio for entertainment; I’ve learned that earpieces or headsets mask ambient sounds that you might want (or need) to hear…the approaching freighter’s horn, or the clang of a buoy…all of which, in a rowboat, are behind you.

BUT….one of the highlights of the last week was visiting the folks at Adirondack Guideboat on Monday. I urge any of you who pass by to stop at their shop in Vergennes, Vermont. Their enthusiasm for- and knowledge of - small boats is legend, and seeing Adirondack Guideboats in various stages of construction is fascinating. They had my oarlocks, oars, foot block, and rails refreshed in no time at all; sadly, they can’t work similar miracles with the propulsion unit. To Steve Kulback & Crew, I say thank you again: thanks for my beautiful boat and for your interest and encouragement in my adventures. To paraphrase my ’06 Big Row blog, if the parents of all those kids one sees mindlessly riding jet skis would buy an Adirondack Guideboat (for a lot mess money), toss in a gallon of water, some sandwiches, and a sleeping bag, and tell their kids to get lost for a couple of days, they’d be giving those kids the exquisite prospect of creative adventure, real fun, and an authentic experience of independence.

So mom, dad…get the kid a Guideboat. If he or she doesn’t use it, believe me, you will.
If I were doing any training for this row, I’d write about it here. So let’s move on, shan’t we?
There seems to be a bit of a groundswell of interest in seeing me off from the Rusty Scupper on Sunday. I’ll be tossing the boat in the water at 8, stocking and balancing it (a key preparatory activity) by 8:30, and pushing away at 9 after a few Big Gulps and Mochas. It’d be great to see you there; the ’Scupper does a mean breakfast in front of a great view of the Inner Harbor. Caution: if someone tosses a Sunday Times at me, departure might be delayed until 1.

Of course, Pay Pal and pledge opportunities persist. We’ve got a little momentum started, and you can add to The Big Mo at any time! Remember...100% of your contribution goes to the financial aid budget at Boys’ Latin School…to boys and families truly committed to education and expanded opportunities…and the need always outstrips the resource. Thanks, Gentle Reader, for anything you can do.

One more blog before I push off…then Peg and Kathy will provide periodic updates as I call in each night.

I know most of you will welcome a reprieve from my tortured prose. Who wouldn’t?

Hugs,
Mr. Frei