Monday, May 22, 2006

KEOWEE


DUCT TAPE SALLY “ THE PLASTIC RENTAL BOAT”TEXAS WATER SAFARI 1997

“The Time will come up -
and the winds will stop -
and the breeze will cease to be a breezing -
Like the Stillness in the wind before the hurricane rolls in-
The Hour that the ships come in –
There’s water to our thighs –
There’s water in our eyes –
And the sharks will BEGIN their feedin’
But the Sea Drift we won’t be seeeeeeeiing- “
* An edited version of the Bob Dylan version


In the spring of 1997, we had made a decision to enter the Texas Water Safari. The World’s Toughest Boat race. We had made several excursions to Mike’s place down on the river to get the appropriate information. I think we made it there a total of once. Don’t quote me on that. After reading the rules the one thing, that we figured we would need, is a Gonadian. How important is the boat anyway? Unbeknownst to us we found out that they mostly traveled in pairs, so wouldn’t you know it. We got 2. So, we were well on our way to winning the race. Next thing we needed to do is pick a number. As numbers go, ussually in order, so they say, we counted out how many fingers we had and opted to go with the best number we could think of. Number 9, Number 9, Number 9, Number 9. After sealing the deal with our Gonadians, we registered in the Novice class.
Greer’s now ex-wife Molly had the food we would need, already in the oven, and so we figured that it would be a good time to get a boat. No need for rushing around, we figured there was still a good two hours before orientation began. So we burned one and ran on over to the local REI shop and rented a Keowee. It was the best boat we had ever seen. Streamlined and bucket seats. It was like a two man kiyak only bigger. There were snap-ons for some kind of cover. Don’t know much about that. The guy at REI wanted to know where we were going to paddle. Suddenly we noticed a sign that said something like “No Moving Water.” No worries. We told him that we would be out on Lake Buchanan fishing. He didn’t think much of it and handed us a couple of those double bladed paddles, a couple of life jackets and a rental agreement. Happy with our rental we headed back to Greer’s to pack the boat and pick up the Gonadians.
Our safari cruiser for this trip would be an early model Toyota 4x4 pickup. We stuffed the boat on top and the supplies in back. We wanted video and photos of this event so we brought along a camcorder and a couple of snap and shoots. The Gonadians had their own car to follow us down in. It was some type of egg looking thing. No matter. Only one more stop and we were at Aquarena Springs. R and R spirits is just along the path and here is where our first Safari Tradition begins. A couple cases of beer and a fifth of Ol’number 7. Some folks’ll tell you that it is good to eat a hearty meal and get a good nights rest before the race. Some folks wont. There is a pork chop in every beer and we found a pizza guy back in the woods where we were sipping whiskey with the Gonadians.
We met up with Cooter Brown and made our way to the staging area. For sure, I can tell you that everyone there had been there for sometime and were quite surprised to find us strolling in with the Duct Tape Sally. Families and crews all dressed the same in floral outfits and iiiiieeeee Cajuns in wooden boats, but most of all John Bugge. These are the people who heard it first, our proclamation of victory. We had declared under an oath of Cooter Brown that we would be victorious. Soon there was some guy at a podium trying to get people’s attention. Apparently, they do some kind of speech to let people know about the water conditions and stuff. I don’t know much about that. This is where the Gonadians step in.
Stace and I went on walk about to take a review of our competition. Here along the way we ran into Mark Simmons. This guy had about 1 ounce of food and a bandana or something packed away in his boat. For Sure he had no idea what he was talking about, but being that he is also a friend to Cooter Brown we figured he’s alright. Turns out Mark finishes this year 8th overall in 40:13. Can you believe that? Sooner or later we made our way back to the boat.
The Gonadians appeared to be agitated about our lack of concern regarding the seriousness of this competition. But I don’t know much about that either. Once we had completed our check in we decided to get some grub. So we found the cooler and grabbed another Beer. It wasn’t long after that when one Gonadian said to the other “I’ll see you tomorrow”. So she left.
Here we were with one Gonadian and a hotel room set up for us by Beth. Cutos to Beth! After checking into the hotel room we all ran down to Pepper’s for some fine dinning and a few beers and then went on back to our room. Near as I can remember it was somewhere around 2am so we figured it’s be a good time to go to bed, but ended up going swimming instead. For the rest of this nights story you’ll have to wait for Paul Harvey.
That next morning sure did come early. All I recall of the first few minutes is a Gonadian trying to wake us up. But we made it down to the staging area where we were greeted by hoards of supporters. Amongst those were our Family and Friends. My Dad and Beth were there. Jim was there. Lindy was there. Molly was there with Savanah and Gideon. The Gonadians were there. Thanks to Cooter Brown I cant remember the rest of you but thanks for coming. The one thing that everyone there had in common was the look they were giving us. I cant quite put a thumb on it but I’d say they didn’t think we were coming back. Or else they knew about the careful planning and dedication in our training we did to make it here.
Now we have to get in the boat and start this thing up. We waddled in duck fashion down the springs and dropped that sucker in. It took a second or two to figure out which end of the paddle was the right one, being as that they were double bladed and all. Eventually we lined up with our competitors, and did it only hitting a few other boats. One of the best things about the Texas Water Safari is the God fearing people that make it all possible. So, we all took a moment in prayer before the countdown began.
The gun goes off and every boat is making there way down the line. Most everyone knows the course so there’s not a lot of need to go over the details. What I can tell you is what John Bugge told us “You could pull a skier with that wake!.” I don’t think he was talking about how fast we were going. So they say it’s a high water year and we found ourselves outside the boat. It is really hard to pull a sunken boat out while your floating down river. Lucky for us there was a tree in the way. We managed to pull our boat up and drain the water. To our amazement we did not loose any gear. Except for a few random escapee fireballs, those tie downs were holding.
We figured out that paddling requires some type of syncronism and after several miles we started to get this thing down, then we ran into a Dam. It seemed like all of the racers were going to the right and walking their boats around. This seemed like an obvious place to pick up some time so we pulled right up on the dam and threw the boat over. After gathering our supplies we jumped back in the boat and down the line. We had heard several racers telling us from behind to portage and something about cotton seeds but really couldn’t make it out. There was a crowd of people lined up along the shore and we thought they were there for us so we started yelling at them. Everyone was yelling “YEAH! You guys are the only ones to do it!” Since we saw at least a good thirty other boats ahead of us, we yelled back at them “YEAH! We we know!”
It was just about then that it hit us. It was a huge drop and then I remember looking at the water line just above my bottom eyelid. The boat managed to resurface and there I saw Stace swimming along side. He was telling me to get out of the boat. Instead I held on for another dunking. The boat managed to hit a shallow spot and we regained control. There again was the crowd yelling at us. So, we took stock and it appeared that we lost a few homemade cookies. As we turn to look down river we could see those bags floating away. No matter we still had plenty of Peanut butter bars. So, after taking a bow to the crowd we were off and down the line.
Four hours or so in to the race we had reached check point number 1. There we were once again greeted by our Gonadian Land Crew. Our boat was filled with red fireball water and we lost the squirt guns. A little hobnobbing with the Land Crew and we were set to go. As we were preparing to make our way down the Staples Dam ladder, out pops my Dad. He always does that on this race. After a bit of tale telling, we jumped back in the boat and down the line. It was a couple hours later, and then it all started to go a different direction.
People talk about logjams. It ain’t nothing you’d throw on a piece of bread and if you were to try explaining this to someone who hadn’t seen it, then it wouldn’t make a difference if it was. We rolled up on what looked like a bunch of trees that had fell over and blocked the river at the surface. We figured we paddled up on it and walk across. So as we run into this thing and none of it moves it seemed like a noble idea. As I stood up and bent over to get a good look at my foot placement I noticed that this log did, in fact, seem to be moving. Upon a closer look I was horrified when it revealed a thousand spiders and ants of different varieties. Also, it appeared that these logs were not side by side, but there were gaps between them. In these gaps were moss covered, bug infested, grassy type of something floating in the middle. It was gonna take careful stepping not to fall in. As I took my first step I remember seeing the logs from underneath the water. After a brief interpersonal moment, I jumped out of that water and was screaming like baby! I was covered from head to toe in spiders, but there was nothing I could do about it until we got across the logs.
Safari partners are special people. I’ve heard stories of all types. The noble Safari partner to the AS@!##H%#! sitting in the back. I heard, coming from the back of the boat. Laughter. Then I heard Laughter. Then as we were crossing the logs I heard a splash. Then I heard screams! Like those of the baby, Then there was no laughter. From the back of the boat. Sooner or later we finally made across the logjam and dunked ourselves underwater and were able to get most of those suckers off. So we went on down the line.
The river was moving pretty good and we were pretty much by ourselves out there. We came to one particular fork in the river. It looked like posts were coming out of the water like those of an old fishing wharf. We figured we’d just go right up through them. As we got up in between those, a closer look to the right revealed, the river. It was then that we heard what sounded like a waterfall. My memory is a little unclear of this event. All I remember is walking around looking for our stuff. A short sit on the river bank and another tally of our supplies was in order. We were busted. Our hopes of victory lost. Our food, also lost. We had nothing left but 2 paddles, Duck Tape Sally, a couple life jackets and a rental agreement. God must have stepped in here, cause we got back in that boat. A couple miles of drifting led us to a checkpoint. There was a guy there with a red shirt on telling us how good we were doing. He sounded like that teacher from Charlie Brown and the only thing we could make out is “Its only 1 mile to the next checkpoint, you can do it!.” Our Gonadian Land Crew was there video taping us. Stace was shivering from sun burn and neither one of us were getting back in that boat. I guess the guy in the Red shirt and our Land Crew must have been conspiring against us, cause now they were telling us how good we were doing and that it was only 1 mile to the next checkpoint. We later found out that it is a requirement of the job. The ability to lie to your water crew. Those Gonadians did a fine job of that, cause somehow they convinced us to get back in the boat. Can you believe that? The next part of the race is fairly uneventful as it was mostly a drift along. Luling 90. Here was the end of the line for number 9. We pulled out at 60 miles of the 260 mile race. We knew it was for sure the moment we seen Cooter Brown. The Gonadians were so proud. They were proud that they effectively had us believing that we made it 60 miles. We all know what the map says. 38 miles to Luling 90. Damn they’re good.


“The Time will come up -
and the winds will stop -
and the breeze will cease to be a breezing -
Like the Stillness in the wind before the hurricane rolls in-
The Hour that the ships come in –
There’s water to our thighs –
There’s water in our eyes –
And the sharks will BEGIN their feedin’
But the Sea Drift we won’t be seeeeeeeiing- “
* An edited version of the Bob Dylan version

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

FUMAR CHOCHAR MOPAR



Cooter Brown was always there, even from the beginning. What we didn’t know then, is what we don’t know now. It is like almost like reading a foreign language for the first time every time. Mi Mochillia de paca lolo esta yeno siempre. If you can’t figure that one out then you probably won’t figure out the rest our story either. That’s OK. We don’t know either and that is exactly what we are here for.

Some folks paddle cause they’re married. Some folks paddle cause they don’t have nothing better to do. I have heard that some folks do it because they like to. I don’t know if I believe that but I sure will bet those people always think twice about that somewhere near Hochhiem. Still other folks say that it gives them pride and for them I say “you don’t come out with anything that you didn’t go in with”. You’ll also hear talk of tradition and I cant really argue with that. I think we need more of them. Some folks do it for the challenge. Try it backwards. I believe some people do it for the drugs. You know who you are. I’ve heard your stories about river monkeys and stuff. Hallucinations and what not. I do recall one year a solo runner creaping up on a barge. He sure did think it was an island though. There is talk of a River Goddess. I’ve seen her too. She is one of those shiny Starz. I am certain there are a great many reasons why people say they do this thing. Our story is a little less clear.

Somewhere sometime in San Marcos Texas we met up with Cooter Brown. He would say “Want a beer?.” Then a short while later he would say “Want a beer?.” Yet another short while later he would say “Want a beer?.” It went on just like this for good long while as near as I can remember. Sometime around then we learned about “ FUMAR CHOCHAR MOPAR.”

For years following this episode those words stayed with us.

In the Spring of 1997 I was working out in the World Gym in Round Rock Texas. There on the notice board was a notice. Can you believe that? It said “ Teammate wanted for World’s Toughest Boat Race.” Might have I walked away. There is no need for detail here. It would only bore the readers. A long story short the lady already had a partner. Lindy and Mike are copped out, so Stacey H G___ and Jon T S______ began the story of Number 9.


FUMAR CHOCHAR MOPAR # 9 NO REST FOR THE WEARY

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

What Do You Mean It Doesn't Fit?

Remember the computer armoire from our last post? You know, the one we spent months searching for on Ebay and Craigslist? The one we drove to the other side of the city to check out, and then paid the guy an extra $50 to deliver? The one that cost every ounce of our precious free time over the past 4 weeks to sand it, stain it, re-sand it, and then re-stain it? The one that nearly broke the backs of Jon and our neighbor, Chris, getting it up the stairs from the garage?

It doesn't fit through our office door.


As close as it got to the office (last door on the right).

Thursday, May 04, 2006

The End of the Tunnel

Last night I turned in the absolute last bit of work I need to do for graduate school ever. The sense of relief resulting from the end of three years of busting ass is incredible. It was about all I could do this semester to churn out a 19-page literature review on the evils of perchlorate, followed by a 10-page report on the evils of Teflon, followed by a 20-minute presentation on the evils of modeling fuel contamination. That's a lot of evils. Aside from showing up for a mandatory class next week (otherwise who would watch the poor souls that have yet to deliver their fascinating presentations?) I'm finished. There is no doubt I learned a thing here and there about Environmental Science and Engineering, but I think what I learned the most about is just how much mental stress I can sustain in a three-year period. Now it's time to re-learn how to use the free time I have lacked for so long. I'm seriously looking forward to that lesson.

House Update: We decided to paint our office last weekend (between writing papers of course). We're going for an old world tropical theme (aka a place to store all the stuff we bought in Hawaii). Oh yeah, and we got it in our heads that purchasing a computer armoire off Craigslist and subsequently re-staining it to a dark espresso color would be an easy thing. Note to self and other future furniture refinishers - 2 coats of stain on the Minwax can = 8 coats of stain in real life.
Dog Update: Kona is now officially huge. Approximately 80 pounds last time we checked. I guess when he hits 100 pounds he will be officially enormous. He will start obedience training next week. Nothing like an 80-pound untrained puppy, right?