It’s The Day Before We Leave (Mr. Frei)



Last training meal






Greetings, Gentle Reader,


It’s The Day Before We Leave; at 0500 hrs we will depart Cleverdale and head to Kingston, Ontario, courtesy of son Matthew and his Toyota Tundra and Trailer. We should be on the water by noon and with any luck and the cooperation of the lock-keepers, we hope to put twenty miles under the keels before nightfall. Tomorrow will be a BIG learning day. How will our bodies respond to our first serious effort beyond lifting groaning forks to our faces? How will the boats perform with the luggage we carry? How will the lock-keepers respond to our appeals for expeditious passage? How will our mutual blather affect our relationship as fellow travelers? Frankly, I expect to be grinning from ear to ear tomorrow night; this has already been a lot of fun.

You see, Brian and I conducted our final provisioning (a.k.a shopping) today at Wal-Mart, a sad testament to our sense of urgency and conservative budgeting. Then…a quick lunch of cheeseburgers and onion rings, a light fresh coat of varnish on the woodwork of the boats, the construction of six cushions from Hefty bags and duct tape, Brian’s masterful fitting of new seats, a trial loading of it all for weight and balance…and, voila! Good to go! The weather is perfect as I write this on my mom’s porch at Lake George, but atmospheric confusion to the west promises more than a few days of rain for our start. Brian optimistically observes that cold, rain, and enormous personal discomfort will give us more to write about. If this be so, he’s picked the right expedition.

And oh, yes. My next book is “Loyalty…the Vexing Virtue” by Eric Felten, chosen not only because “virtue” seems to me, even in advance of reading the book, to be a quality that has been greatly misconstrued, abused, and too narrowly interpreted in the contemporary culture, but my own notion of “Loyalty” may be tested over the next few weeks. After all, is this trip about rowing 503 miles? Is it about savoring time and shared experience with my non-bio brother? Is it about achieving a personal best of sorts? Is it about the communion of writing a blog and co-mingling friends from different zip codes? It’s about all of these things and more, of course, and yet the loyalties I hold for these aspirations and the people involved may become conflicted or casualties of experience. Perhaps Felten’s book can help me navigate through some of it. Perhaps?

So we’re on the water tomorrow, Gentle Reader, and since Brian is bringing his iPad, we may be able to sustain some commentary as we row. We’ll be calling in to Peg and Kathy as in the past, so you will receive frequent updates of our progress.

Row Canada!!

Mo’ Latah’

And….many, many thanks for the Pledge Activity!! More thanks to come, honest!

Mr. Frei



Getting There! (Mr. Frei)

Greetings, Gentle Reader,


The Mini is packed here in Baltimore, Brian will soon be in the air from LA, and in hearing this you have learned of essentially the only element of this adventure that is - or can be- set to the clock or calendar. Son Matt will reliably convey us across the border on Monday, and after that it’s catch as catch can; the watches will come off as our attention will shift to hands, hearts, backs, and derrieres (each our own, of course).

Packing a Mini for journey in a Guide Boat is good practice in decision-making; Brian has sent two pallets on ahead to my mom’s house, so I’m anxious to see what cargo awaits. I know he’s planning to bring a stove to heat water for morning Starbuck’s Vias (and he’ll hear no derision from me on that score), but my suspicion is that he’s a bit of a gadget man and all contingencies will be covered. Brian is a strong rower; he’ll pull what he wants. Was it the pro-gun Jesse Helms who once said, “I have more guns than I need…but not as many guns as I want.”? It’s the same with gadgets in the boat.

So I’ll be in the car heading north in a matter of a few minutes….but before I leave, I must sing my heart’s song to the unsung hero of MY trip: Peg. Peg, thank you for enabling me to depart for three weeks with a light heart and only a modicum of guilt. I spend too much time at school, too much time grading papers on “our” time, and in anticipating this trip I have not pulled my weight lately. I love you for a host of reasons, but at this moment I’ll add that I love you for your generosity with the one finite resource that we most want to share: time. I love you.

All of my literary references are packed in the car, but in addressing the latent competition inherent in a team row, Brian has written that he may be “the first to a meal…the first to a shower…”. I can assure you, Gentle Reader, that we will contest for the food with vigor, but I’ve traveled with Brian and believe me when I tell you that he will be the first to the shower.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

On the water on Tuesday. Mo’ Latah’.

Mr. Frei

Is Anybody Reading This? (Brian)

You get some funny reactions when you announce a trip like this. People assume that at some point you should give up great physical challenges. It’s like when I went helicopter skiing in Alaska. Looking at the gray hair leaking out from the margins of my helmet, some of the hotshots in their 20s and 30s said to me, “It’s great that you’re out here.”

Tell them what we’re doing and people say, “Really?”, as if we are facing some great danger. We will carry life jackets and sunscreens. And after all, we’re rowing across Canada, where even the mosquitoes are polite.

The question has arisen as to whether there is a competition going on here. Even Al has asked whether there’s a competition, and I said “No, no … not at all.” It’s not a competition. I don’t intend to finish the trip first, or even try to be ahead. But at the end of the day it would be unwise if Al stood between me and a free meal. If there’s one cold beer, it’s mine. If there’s a shower to be had, I plan to get to it first. And I‘m going to keep a close eye on the numbers on the pledge paddles.

I will quote more books than Al. Somewhat by accident both of us have cited books we’ve read, and our blogmeister has started listing them. Al spent some time this week at his local REI outlet, and I’m wondering whether a mention of the REI Catalogue, which I was viewing online yesterday, is worth a book citation credit. I may just post a competitive reading list, which would include the book I have just begun to read, Joshua Slocum’s “Sailing Alone Around the World” about his adventure in 1896. Slocum tells of shooting sharks off the stern of his 36-foot yacht and almost falling into the hands of a pirate felucca before it was dismasted in the hasty chase.

Al and I are not sailing alone. We’re going together, a hazard of a different sort. We could wake up one morning, each guy thinking, “he’s still here, I can’t shake him.” I told Albert about Eric Sevareid’s autobiography, “Not So Wild a Dream”. Immediately after graduating from high school at age 16, Sevareid and a friend took a 2,250 mile canoe trip from Minneapolis to Hudson Bay. Somewhere in the middle of it all they got sick of each other. Sevareid wrote about how one day he and his buddy ended up on a riverbank duking it out until they were snotty, bloody and exhausted. And then, without uttering a word, they got back into the canoe and paddled on.

I told Al that story and we both laughed, and then for just a beat, there was silence. If that moment ever comes to us, just before the first blows are landed, I will say to Albert, “It’s great that you’re out here.”

What’s with all this double pledge-paddle business?

Greetings, Gentle Reader,

“Yo! What’s with all this double pledge-paddle business?” you are no doubt asking. “I thought this was to be a blog recounting high adventure; imminent peril, heroic sacrifice, and happy endings! Instead, this is trending towards the Home Shopping Network!”

Fret not, Gentle Reader. The plot has thickened, but only a little. Here’s the Cliff Notes version, then back to More High Adventure. I promise.

You see, Brian and I both went to Loomis and share a great affection for our Old School. Since Brian will be rowing along in his boat, he has sensibly suggested that we expand the philanthropic reach of this adventure to any and all Pelicans who’d like to climb into our boats…hence, the two paddles. I can’t imagine that anyone will have to straddle a fence on this since the only “overlap” of loyalty between Boys’ Latin and Loomis is yours truly, and I’m pledging to both so as not to be caught in the middle. I have enough voices in my head as it is.

Does that clear it up? So, Pelicans: Welcome!! Lakers, keep piling it on!! This is not a competition, folks…it’s simply a senseless row for a sensible- even laudable- common cause, so climb aboard!

Otherwise, row preparations are underway. We’ll be on the water on June 21, a scant ten days from now. Brian continues to flog the (two) rowing machine(s) by his pool(s?) and will arrive ripped, buff, and ready to take on the roiling Rideau, Ottawa, St Lawrence, and Champlain waters. I, on the other hand, went shopping today for dry pack tuna fish and those little non-refrigerated portions of mayonnaise which you usually have to steal from diners. We each prepare in our own way.

I’ve just finished reading Roz Savage’s account of her 3,000 mile row across the Atlantic (yes, reading also counts as “preparation”, just as Robert Preston’s “Think Method” assisted the youth of River City). Savage gained almost twenty pounds before her departure, correctly anticipating that she would need this store of energy as she propelled herself across the big pond. I have claimed Roz’s strategy as my own, calling Brian and happily declaring, “I’m ready! I’ve got those 20 pounds on tap, and maybe then some.” That this store of energy will have to be converted to propulsive power through some modicum of muscle has not eluded me, and I think I’ll get to the gym this afternoon and look over the weight machines.

Many of you may wonder what “a typical day” will look like once underway, and I promise to get into the nits and nats of the expedition in the next blog. I also plan to heap praise on our boats and the folks as Adirondack Guide Boat. Over 2,000 miles of rowing on these kinds of expeditions have convinced me that there is no better craft imaginable for this kind of adventure…provided that the aging power plant is up to the task.

Mo’ latah’, Gentle Reader!