Rowing Across America

Today I had an early row on Payette Lake, drove north on US 95 through fabulous meadows and canyons, followed the Salmon, Clearwater and Lochsa Rivers, topped Lolo Pass, and cruised down into Missoula, Montana.

The weather was perfect with temperatures in the 70’s, some rain, and Big Sky clouds. My stay tonight is in Butte, short of my goal of Bozeman but what of that?

It was one fine, fine Father’s Day. I heard from my son Ian and my daughter Eryn as I always do and appreciate. Being a father is easy with children like that.

Karen called with the latest news of granddaughter Vivienne’s summer in Coos Bay. I sent Father’s Day greetings to her father Dan and was sorry I was not there to help him eat the German chocolate cake Karen had baked.

***

Much of my psychic energy today was devoted to my own father, Howard. Tomorrow it will be three months since the day he died (St. Patrick’s Day) and I am just beginning to recover from the loss.

I felt my father’s big warm and gentle hand on my back every minute of our years, guiding me and never pushing. A true teacher, he gave me the tools for a good life and along with them the responsibility to decide what to do with them. Whether to sink or swim, was all up to me.

He was confident in me, and I, in him. I seldom asked his advice because I knew he had prepared me well. With him as my North Star, I could not go wrong.

The words “love” and “appreciate” don’t come close to expressing my feelings for him. I’ll never see him alive again. But he will always be with me, his hand at my back.

(Karen took this photo in 2015. Heceta Head lighthouse is in the background.)

June 15, 2019

Up and out early from Ian and Sara’s, coffee across Oregon’s eastern high desert. Memories of my days as judge for the Burns Paiute Tribe. Stop at Oard’s east of Burns. Bought something for my granddaughter; she’ll just need to guess.

Onward to Weiser and up, up through gorgeous farmland then to mountain streams and conifers and smells of the mountains. Warm, sunny skies all the way. To McCall and 5,000 feet elevation and Payette Lake, and the boat I mentioned yesterday, which receives a no vote.

(Amid a vast pasture of tall, green grass I see a clump of 20 or so bright red poppies. Who put those there, I wonder?)

Dinner at McCall includes homemade spaghetti and two meatballs as large as my fist, served by a waitress named Kassandra. Great food was mitigated by the martini I slurped down.

Kassandra asked if I wanted a second of those “bad boys” but I said no; if yes I would have needed to be carried out on a palanquin, which might have been a gas because (1) I would have loved saying “bring me a palanquin, please”, (2) it would have been fun to see if anyone there knows what a palanquin is, and (3) I would have loved the ride back to the hotel.

***

There was a comment today from my first troll, one “Jerry”. Jerry is my good pal, old Wisco oar, Best Man at my wedding to Karen and therefore a facilitator to that union. Don’t pay him any heed. He is retired and therefore without much to do other than to heckle.

***

Tomorrow morning early it’s out on Lake Payette for a row, then over Lolo Pass and into Montana…

En route today from Coos Bay to Bend, I stopped 18 miles east of Eugene at Dexter Lake. Dexter is home to University of Oregon Crew.

In 1971 at age 22 I was hired as head coach of UO’s crew program. I spent many wonderful hours on this lake back then – and have done so in recent years as part-time volunteer assistant coach.

Dexter Lake looms large for me. It is the lure that enticed me to leave my home state of California; I have been an Oregonian ever since.

Reflecting on my life, I realize just how much of it I found on this very water.

***

Three wooden singles grace the trailer, from left: 2009 Pocock Classic, 1984 Owen, 1975 Pirsch. Plus sculls, riggers, assorted boat stuff, and my fold-up Dahon bike.

Tonight I stay outside of Bend at the home of my son Ian and his wife Sara. What a fine man he is – and she his perfect match.

Tomorrow early I leave for McCall, Idaho to look at a boat surely not made for racing.

Tomorrow at noon I shall pull out of Coos Bay, Oregon and drive to Burlington, Vermont, then south, then back west to home.

Coming along will be three boats from my collection of rare wooden single racing shells. Included will be my favorite, BETTER ANGEL, pictured here.

I’ll be on the road for three weeks, logging some 7,000 miles in my trusty SUV, boat trailer in tow.

I’ll follow an itinerary marked by few must-do’s and much room for serendipity.

I’ll miss my dear wife, our fine old home that overlooks the bay, my local friends, my three dogs, my two kitties, and my perfect rowing lake.

I’ll miss the daily routine that defines me and makes me feel secure.

Why, then, undertake this odyssey?

Because I can, and because I must.

And for what I hope to learn and to share with you in this weblog.

Coming up: Bend, Oregon!

Two smashed fingertips had sidelined me for three+ weeks. Today it was so fine to get back in the seat. In perfect water and weather at S. Tenmile Lake, my young friend Delaney Burkett and I managed a very fine low-power outing in the double. She is fairly new to sculling, but because she is an experienced sweep oar adept at both sides, she is catching on quickly. She is FISA age 23 and I, 71. Let’s ramp up to race as a 47, d!

Teardrop hull, custom-built by Steve Chapin for Don Costello