March 13, 2024

Our friend Thomas catches an early flight from Denver to our regional airport near Coos Bay, OR with a brief layover in San Francisco. Oregon’s south coast is experiencing a wicked storm with cold temperatures, high winds and slanting rain likely to result in flight cancellation – and that’s exactly what befalls Thomas. Stranded in San Francisco, he phones me to discuss options. He’s as eager to come visit Karen and me as we are to see him. How easy it would be for him, though, to book a flight back to Colorado. But easy is not his way. He is a rower. Two hours of texts, emails, phone calls, and long lines net him an evening flight to Eugene and a rental car reservation. He calls at 8:00 p.m. when his flight lands. I urge him to spend the night in Eugene rather than drive 110 miles in darkness over an 1,800-foot snowy summit and down the coastal highway in whipping rain and wind. That’s not his way. He is a rower. He texts that his ETA is 10:25; an hour later he arrives at 10:25. A rower. Following a brief visit, having been up for 20 hours, he hits the hay. Next day begins with bacon and Karen’s great lattes and pancakes, and a walk on the beach with our Irish wolfhound Sean. We spend the day loafing and talking about life – and rowing. Early Sunday morning finds Thomas and me driving in heavy rain to South Tenmile Lake. The road rises and we encounter three inches of snow. We shovel ice from the dock in plates that float briefly like tiny rafts then angle down and vanish. We launch the old Hudson double. Sleet and snow have let up by now, and the water is flat. We row long easy pieces at low power, 18-20 strokes a minute, blades off the water. Relaxed and focused, we find rhythm and balance, like in a dream. Chimneys offer streams of smoke toward sky-borne geese. Hard rain starts up as we arrive back at the dock. We are soaked. We rack the shell and sculls, and enjoy the traditional S. Tenmile post-row meal of chocolate mint Clif bars (aka steak and eggs), then drive home wet and happy and energized. We are rowers.