First Blog from Mr. Frei's Rowing Partner (Brian aka Felix)

My brother Albert said one thing to me about this trip that scared me. It was not the prospect of 500 miles in a 15 foot boat, or the certainty of being wet part of the time and sunburned the rest. I’ve been bitten by bugs before and I have survived meals that do not come with a wine list. I admit that I’m daunted by an upstream row on the Richelieu River, but what really got me was when he said, “After the first five days you’ll feel fine.”

What he meant was that after the first day we would be so sore we’d feel like a cracked pane of glass. I remember that feeling from pre-season football in late August many years ago, and I don’t want to feel like that ever again. Ever. Albert plans to get in his boat with no prior workout, no stretching, not even a two-fisted cocktail hour. I immediately put out the word that I was looking for a used rowing machine and now I have two of them by the pool behind my house in Los Angeles. I plan to work through my soreness fifty feet from a king size bed, not a three-inch inflatable mattress parked by a canal in Canada.

Albert asks who will be Oscar and who Felix on this trip and I’m not afraid to claim Felix. For one thing, I have an image to maintain. While Albert’s boat is green Kevlar, a beautiful boat, mine is a work of art in clear cedar and cherry. It’s like rowing a piece of fine furniture that requires the contents to be neatly settled within the drawers. My ropes will be properly tied, you’ll be able to bounce a quarter off my tent , and I’m not going to lose the one headlamp I’m going to bring. My gear will be sorted into separate bags within bags within bags.

It’s going to be a tough trip, and when the going gets tough, the tough go shopping. I spent two hours in the REI store in Santa Monica where they have all the stuff I could possibly need and the customers are well above average in looks. My focus was dryness; how to stay dry when you are never more than eight inches from water. No Hefty Steelsaks for me, I studied dry bags, dry duffles, everything but dry martinis and came away with a color coordinated collection that I hope will keep my clothes and sleeping gear dry even if it’s floating down the St. Lawrence River. I bought my own tent because Albert and I both snore. Separate sleeping arrangements might keep us from killing each other in the night long about day 14. And anyway, my tent has a Jacuzzi on the second floor.

I also now own a goofy looking hat with a brim and a flap to cover my neck and ears; Beau Geste in a boat. I have a collection of long-sleeved SPF shirts and several pairs of shorts suitable in length for going commando. I bought a pocket-sized gas burner to make coffee in the morning. I’m not rowing a stroke without my coffee. And I’m bringing a corkscrew just out of optimism.

Exciting Addition to the Row!

Greetings, Gentle Reader,

Woah! There have been some important developments since we last talked!
The route is confirmed, transportation to Ontario is secured, necessary spare boat bits have been ordered from our dear friends at Adirondack Guide Boat up in Vermont, the fundraising apparatus has been established….and the clock ticks inexorably towards June 21, the first day of summer, for our first sweep of the oars.

Fundraising first, OK? Happily, the Pledge Paddle is beginning to move; it’s past $700 and accolades will be shouted out soon in a later blog. But the point is, Gentle Reader, that climbing into this metaphorical boat to support Boys’ Latin’s wonderful families and their sons’ education has never been easier. Simply go to the Boys’ Latin website at www.boyslatinmd.com and click on “Support BL”. Or, easier yet, click on the Pledge Paddles on this site and- voila!- I’m told that you will then be right at the “Support BL” page where you can fill out your donation information and even print a receipt. Just be sure to put a “comment” on your pledge referencing Row Canada or Mr. Frei in some way so that I can circle back and thank you.
Easy, yes? It’s so easy, in fact, that if you do it right now, I’ll be waiting for you right here when you get back. Go ahead, I’ll wait. It’s OK, really! Go ahead.
There. See? Thanks!!

“But…hey!! Wait a minute, Al! You said, “our first sweep of the oars” a minute or so ago. “Our”? Why, if I’m not mistaken, that’s a plural possessive pronoun!”
“Correct-O-Mundo!” Gentle Reader! Tops among the recent developments is the concrete, absolute, irrevocable commitment of virtual brother Brian Rooney to accompany me on this row. What was “my” row is now “our” row. What was a solitary meander is now taking on an ‘expeditionary’ quality. What would have been contemplated in solitude will now be a shared experience. What would be “I” is now “us”, and I’m delighted- boyishly delighted, in fact. Brian and I grew up on the water together, went to camp and school together, and have remained close, close, close ever since. So, this is good. I cannot think of better company than Brian.
But… it also promises to be complicated in a Felix Unger - Oscar Madison Odd Couple kind of way.

He calls me about provisions. He calls me about shorts and shirts and life jackets and shoes and flashlights. For example, I tell him that he should bring two flashlights because when you lose one, you can find it with the other. He tells me that I shouldn’t lose one. The truth is, I love it. The bonus is that Brian is an experienced oarsman and well knows that we have more serious matters at hand than sartorial selections or menus. He knows that the ultimate truth is this: can we get up each day, row for ten hours or more, and do it again the next day….for three weeks?

I also hope that Brian, gifted writer that he is, will soon add his voice to this unworthy tome. Brian, we’re going to be doing a lot of rowing together; how ‘bout some writing together? We might get a coffee table book out of it.

Gentle Reader, my schedule is about to include the frenetic closing weeks of school: fashioning a new final exam, wrapping up ten months of work, saying goodbye to wonderful boys and their families, putting the early foundations under next fall’s work…all of this prevents me from being the relentless blogger that I’d like to be. I see another entry out later this week but, in the meantime, let me know what you might want to hear about. Just write a comment or two as this thing unfolds. For example, you may be wondering:

 How does one prepare for 502 miles of rowing?
 Will Brian be Oscar or Felix?
 Why is the Adirondack Guide Boat simply the very best vessel for this kind of adventure?
 What’s that new eighth grade English Final Exam ‘gonna look like?
 Son Matt is taking us to Ontario for our start; is there any chance that he’ll jump in the boat and come with us?
 How will Canadian locks compare with those of the Erie Canal? More importantly, will the Lock Keepers (always capitalize; they have your fate in their hands) facilitate our passage with the same positive encouragement and spirit as their American counterparts?

So many questions…so few blogs.
More are coming.

Thanks for your pledge and support; the row is always more fun when it’s doing good for someone other than myself.

Big Ups,

Mr. Frei

Game on!

Greetings, Gentle Reader, May 10, 2011
Game on!
That’s Canadian for “let’s get going!” right? Well, game on!

Read on for a bit more detail but if you’re in a rush, here are the headlines:

 Row Canada! starts on June 21st…the first day of summer. 5oo miles. Three weeks.
 Yes, I’ll look to raise money for financial aid at Boys’ Latin, where I teach. I took last summer off, and so did you. Let’s find our old rhythm, OK? I row, you write a nice check, and we both feel good. Row. Write. Row. Write. Easy, yes?
 My “brother from another mother,” Brian Rooney, may be rowing with me in his exquisite cedar Adirondack guide boat. A wingman! Woah!

“Row Canada!”, the title of this blog-book, is obviously an affectionate if transparent take-off on our northern neighbor’s national anthem, but it does convey the plan: to depart from Kingston, Ontario, on or about the first day of summer and row to Cleverdale, NY, by way of Ottawa, Montreal, Sorel, Lake Champlain, and Ticonderoga….precisely 500 miles of fresh water traversing two scenic canals, two mighty rivers, two lovely big lakes and entailing one two-mile portage. That will be ugly.

I expect that this journey will take three weeks or so to complete; the locks will take time and, more importantly, it’s been five years since The Big Row in 2006, which covered 452 miles. The Erie Canal in ’08 was 360 or so, and the ’09 Baltimore-to-DC adventure entailed a relatively modest 280. The key concern, of course, is not this year’s longer distance but, rather, the aging motor at the oars. I’ll be 60 in August and, truth be told, this will be a stretch for me. But as Warren Miller used to say, “If you don’t do it now, you’ll just be another year older when you do.”

So I’d better do it now.

If you run the math as I have, you’ll see that three weeks calls for a daily average of only 23.81 miles…nine or ten miles under my previous daily averages. My conservatism stems from these uncontrollable realities:

1. I’ll not be doing much on-the-water training before I depart. It’ll take time to get the hands and derriere in shape for a sustained effort, and this will take some time.
2. Wait. I gotta be honest. I’ll be doing NO on-the-water training before I depart. Sure, I’ll have spent some time in the gym, but there’s no substitute for the real thing.
3. The canals are rife with locks that will take significant time to transit. Locks are great for socializing and for building international relations, perhaps, but they’ll add significant time.
4. Champlain, the next-to-last puddle on the trip, is very big water. The headwind of an ill-timed lingering southern front could make that last stretch a real slog….or, of course, if the wind’s from the north, a sleigh-ride!

If I sustain a proven 30 to 32 miles each day, the elapsed time comes down to about 16 days. Big difference. We’ll see. It’s not a race. Much.

Those of you who have followed my blogs from earlier adventures know that I typically begin to write months in advance of the adventure, filling many pages with tedious ruminations and reflections on everything from preparing to row to teaching eighth grade boys to issues de jour regarding our ailing contemporary culture. Expect some of that in future installments, but not as much. After all, I’m on the water in only 42 days. Count it a simple blessing.

And finally, if I may, a word about fundraising? If you’ve read this far, keep going. This is important.

I’ll riff some other day about where financial aid funds go and to what use they are put but, for now, if you want to give my metaphorical boat a big, big early push -as I hope you will- simply go to the Boys’ Latin School website at www.boyslatinmd.com , click on “Support BL”, and follow the bouncing ball. Look, I can’t give you more than that; I’ve got to find my way home from Kingston, Ontario…I’m just asking you to navigate a few clicks. 

You see, we’ve helped many families and created wonderful opportunities for boys since The Big Row of ’06. I’ll get sappy later (graduation is on June 10th) but, for now, please know that the boys you have helped are terrific kids of enormously appreciative parents. I hope that much good can come from my labors at the oars because the kids are so well worth it. So if you think you’ll be writing a check somewhere along the way, help us establish some early momentum by pledging now, OK?

You rock.

Row Canada!

Mo’ latah!

Mr Frei