Sunrise on the river, stuck in traffic…
Posted by Fyse on Wednesday, 27 October 2004
One thing I wasn’t expecting when I took up novice rowing was the proportion of time spent in what can only be described as traffie jams on the river. To the vast majority of our novice crew, rowing is an entirely new skill, and it’s obviously going to take time before we zip along in a Redgrave-Pinsent-esque manner. As a result we do spend a little time thrashing wildly with little progress being made. Today our cox (the one with rudder) was also a novice, and while he seemed to be collecting the requisite skills with commendable speed, there was a little weaving from side to side, as well as undesirable contact with stationary barges.
Compared to some other crews, however, our incompetence is neglible, and we therefore spend a lot of time twiddling our metaphorical thumbs in the middle of a half mile tail-back. This morning was more extreme than ever, and it seemed that no sooner had we found a comfortable rhythm than we were bumper to bumper (again metaphorically) with the next crew. In fact, gridlock was normally attained before any kind of coordination, resulting in much frustration. The outing on Sunday was much better, with open river ahead allowing us to row all eight at a once, and get up a fair head of steam (so to speak). It may sound odd that Sunday is the only time we’ve tried rowing all at the same time, but until people know what they’re doing, half the boat is required to concentrate on maintaining balance. Also, when the river is so crowded, all eight of us rowing would simply be too gosh darn speedy, and would give us even less time before having to halt once again.
I really struggled with the early morning today, and hit ’snooze’ enough to be slightly late. Once I get up, though, I really do enjoy that time of day. It was cold and crisp at 6.30 this morning, and the sun rose over the treeline as we carried the boat out to the river. I really wish I’d had my camera with me, as it was truly beautiful. I’m certainly going to persevere with this rowing lark until Christmas, and then I’ll decide whether I want to carry on until the big races just before Easter. The cool rowing kit, bearing the college insignia, can’t be ordered until the beginning of next term, so perhaps that’ll sway my decision on premature retirement…
How small is your river? I don’t know that I’ve seen a “traffic jam” here on the Schuykill. Seems like 10 boats or more could row abreast. But maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about….
The river’s pretty narrrow for most of the stretch within Cambridge. With overhanging trees and barges moored at the side, having two boats abreast is a normally a squeeze. Collisions are not unknown…
One of the defining images of Ivy League and British universities is the rowing team. Think about it… “Dead Poet’s Society”, “The Rowers”, “The Simpsons”. It’s all there!
I know, I feel like such a cliché, but rowing is only an obsession in Oxford and Cambridge, culminating each year in ‘The Boat Race’. I held out until my third year, but I figured I had to at least give it a go.
That’s an awesome image you paint. Here in the “other” London (Ontario, Canada), we also have a Thames River, and it’s also home to a rowing club. The national high performance training centre for our rowers, kayakers, canoeists et al is in the northwest corner of the city.
On my way home from work, I often cycle past the team members as they train. There are few sights more inspiring in sport than a hull slicing through the water, powered by the almost-silent strokes of a team working as one, being paced by a cox who has the entire race planned in his or her head. It’s an incredible sport, and you’re lucky indeed to be a part of it.