Medina-Mercer Sausage Pull 2005

This is the second last race of the year on the Sound Rowers schedule. The trees are changing color, the days have become crisp and cool, and the lower angle of the sun in the sky throws long shadows even in mid-day.

This race offers two courses. The short course starts just off Medina Beach Park in the small suburb of Medina, WA, approximately a mile south of Bill Gates' house. The course heads southeast into the channel separating Mercer Island from Bellevue. After passing under the I-90 bridge the course returns back whence it came for a total distance of about 6 miles.

The long course follows the short course, but continues south where the short turns back. It follows the shore of the island, passes under the I-90 high rise bridge on the west side of the island, and finishes back at the park. Most folks tend to angle across the lake on the west side towards Seward Park rather than take the longer meander along the island's western shore.
The total distance using the direct route is about 14 miles.

It was a rather chilly overcast morning. The temperatures were in the low 50's with a light breeze from the south. The small linear parking lot was quickly filled with vehicles loaded with long, skinny boats stretching well into the road behind them.

I managed to get a choice spot beside the asphalt path down to the water. This made the task of getting the boat to the water quite simple.

Jim Szumila's Cadence joined my boat soon afterward.

Deb, a friend of mine, was trying a double rowing shell today. She and her partner were in the tiny bay adjusting foot rests, riggers, etc., trying to prepare for the race. It was chilly just watching them as one stood in the deep water holding the boat while the other worked. Brrr!

Adrian Storb started the event with a pre-race meeting under the trees. Some 53 boats were registered, ranging from single person kayaks to an 8 person shell from the Mt. Baker Rowing Club. The split was almost 50/50 between the long and short courses.

After the meeting ended the Mt. Baker 8 immediately went to launch their boat. This had the effect of immediately preventing anyone else from launching as the boat took up almost the entire length of the beach. It also ensured that the shell would make it onto the water with a bit of time for a warmup; otherwise, I'm sure they would have had to wait for quite some time before the beach was empty enough to let them have a go.

The net result was that there was a bit of mayhem as everyone else tried to enter the water when the 8 left.

The water was quite chilly when I stepped into it to launch. I was wearing a PFD over a nylon jacket over a long sleeved nylon shirt over a wicking long sleeved shirt, bike shorts, water shoes and a baseball cap. Woolen leg warmers were stowed on the seat to put on after I got away from shore.

After shoving off and pedaling past the breakwater it suddenly seemed to get warmer. It was quite possible that the water was heating the air out here. In fact, by the time I replaced my water shoes with dry socks and bike shoes I was ready to take off my nylon jacket and leave it behind - and so I did, with the help of Steve Bennett, who was in the midst of launching his kayak.

A few other racers did likewise.

I did some warming up pedaling around and taking photos. Jim pedaled his way out into the lake and selected a starting line position.

The five minute, and then the one minute warning signals were given. Hmm, I guess I had better get in line, too!

I did so, initializing the heart rate monitor and resetting the GPS odometer and erasing the track memory.

The signal was given and we were off!

The starting line was quite wide. To my right there were but a few boats, and soon after the start several of them had managed to leave me and the rest far behind. To my left were perhaps 50 boats, and some of them had made nearly instantaneous progress against the field, too.

The GPS indicated a speed of about 7 to 7.5 mph - it's sometimes hard to read the pseudo analog speedometer through the reflections of the vinyl covering and the front of the display. Maybe I should just use a different display mode, such as the large numeric one, though the odometer function isn't available there. Sigh...

Anyway, Vern and Jeff in their double kayak had been gaining distance, and an OC-2 right next to me looked like they might be trying to catch them. Both boats would be ideal to draft as they had a nice big wake at the stern. I went for it and dropped behind the OC-2.

The OC-2 seemed to be having troubles keeping up with Vern and Jeff. I was feeling pretty strong so I decided to pass and catch Vern's tail.

As it turned out Vern and Jeff were not really going any faster than I had been on my own. By staying on their tail the effort to pedal did get easier, and I was able to recover from the short sprint. The OC-2 fell behind me.


With my responsibilities of taking photos from time to time I didn't quite stick to the kayak's stern like glue, though I tried. The forces of wind and waves sometimes caused my boat to veer a bit to one side or the other as I snapped shots of distant racers. This probably caused the paddlers in the OC-2 to silently curse me from time to time as we headed towards the I-90 bridge.

As we neared the bridge I decided to break away to the east in order to get closer shots of the first people in the short course making their way back to the finish. "Thanks for the ride", I called out. The things I do for photography!

Angling more easterly I was able to better see a group of HPK's and rowing shells splashing their way under the I-90 bridge. It appeared that these folks were going around the island, and at pretty high speed, too. So long!

I soon encountered the first boat on the short course. It was a shell rowed by Steve Chapin of Port Townsend. He was far in front of the next boat and pulling strongly. After a few shots I cheered him onward.

The next boats were another rowing boat and an HPK. They were followed by another rower and then Steve Bennett in his kayak. He had the misfortune of finding a bass fisherman's boat crossing in front of him under the bridge and had to wait for it to move aside. Consider it a rest stop, Steve!

I continued southward, rather than stick around for more short racers to appear. Perhaps next year I'll wait for them to pass and then continue around the island...

Even though I had angled quite a ways from Vern, Jeff and the OC-2, it appeared that they had not gained all that much distance. Perhaps if I tried I could catch up to them!

While pedaling at a somewhat faster pace, the heart rate showing a pulse of 155+ and the GPS a speed of about 7 (I LOVE the new propeller!), I struggled trying to stick a straw into a box of juice. This was my only source of nourishment for the race, and the ^#&$#^& straw just refused to pierce the foil opening! Somehow it developed fangs that stuck out on either side, preventing it from entering the hole and causing the straw to collapse and fold. Grrr! This is not the thing to make me happy while working hard pedaling!

Finally I was able to show it who was the boss, without spilling much juice over me. Ahhh, the sugar would help sustain me later in the race - I hoped!

One of my two water bottles was nearly empty by the time I finally caught up to the OC-2. Celebrating quietly by downing the last of its contents I called out to the OC-2, saying "He's baaack!".

It was hard to discern the meaning of the quick glance shot my way by the stern paddler.

My muscles began a somewhat slow recovery as I tailed the OC-2. It had been quite a push moving somewhat over 7 MPH to reach them. Now we were going about 6.5 mph, staying quite close to the ends of the many docks lining the shore.

This turned out to be a problem as it turned out that some of the shoreline here was pretty shallow. Milfoil and other weeds were present and soon snared my propeller. Rats!

It was pretty thick, too, and took several clearing efforts in order to free the propeller. By the time the prop was clean the pair of boats were long gone.

I did not have the energy left to try and catch them again.

Instead, I decided I'd have to pace myself so as to be able to finish the race. After all, I had not even reached the half way point!

Pedaling at about 6.5 mph I continued southward, passing the Mercer Island Beach Club and many nice looking houses. The shore was devoid of people on this now fairly nice morning, and with the exception of the thrum-thrum of the gearbox it was pretty quiet.

After a while the southeastern corner of the island was passed. It was marked by a barge with a large steel ramp held straight in the air by a couple of chains near the base. I gave it some room just in case it somehow fell down!

The south side of the island was also very quiet. The only life encountered there were people in two boats. The first was a rowing shell that had been fitted with a pair of small outriggers and some kind of chair. Apparently the guy must use his boat for fishing.

The other boat was a standard shell in which someone was out for a nice row.

No other racers were encountered in this section, though it seemed that reflections from the paddles of the boats far in the distance could be seen once in a while.

Eventually the southwest corner of the island was reached. From here it was a pretty straight shot to the Seward Park peninsula. Ahead the pack of paddlers could be plainly seen as they neared the park.

My legs were getting pretty tired. My whole body was getting pretty tired. With the tiny juice box drained long ago and perhaps half of the last water bottle remaining it appeared that it was going to be a long slog to the finish. Still, with the light tailwind the GPS showed a speed of about 6.5 mph. Could I keep it going?

The open water crossing to Seward Park was very draining mentally. With nothing but water around for distraction it felt almost like watching paint dry. I took a few pictures, and noticed that someone was slowly catching up. That gave me a little boost, though short lived. My legs were just worn out. With about 4 miles to go they needed a rest!

Partially to keep the pace faster and partially because I had not done so previously I took a couple of shots of the GPS while pedaling faster. In my weakened condition and unsteady hands only one of the shots turned out, and it was marginal. Still, one could make out the maximum speed of 8.1 mph and current speed of about 7 mph. Boy, could I use something to eat!

About this time I noticed that my pulse had dropped to around 132, yet my breathing was still fairly rapid. My toes and hands were starting to tingle, too. Was I hyperventilating?

I began taking slower breaths. It seemed to make no difference in heart rate, consciousness or fatigue. Holding my breath for a few seconds didn't seem to change anything, either. Maybe I just needed a rest!

The north end of the peninsula was in sight, as was the gleaming grayish white floating bridge. The flotilla of paddlers ahead had disappeared under the eastern high rise and were on the last stretch to the finish.

At long last the boat that had been slowly gaining on me caught up. It was a high performance kayak (HPK) paddled by Traci Cole. She said that she was not used to such long distances this year, having spent most of her training doing sprints. I replied that this was my longest race, too, having sat on my bottom for much of the summer in a road trip.

After further commiseration she pulled ahead. Now having a bit of privacy I made a pit stop.

It felt good to put my feet on the floor of the cockpit and let them rest a little. Ahh!

Meanwhile, Traci continued paddling off into the distance.

The finish line was now only a couple of miles away. Putting my feet back on the pedals I decided it was time to do or die. Maybe, just maybe, I could catch back up to Traci if my legs would hold out.

In a few minutes I was under the I-90 bridge. Traci was now at the north end of the island and starting the passage across the channel towards Medina. There was still time!

The Cadence was moving at nearly 7 mph again. There seemed to be a bit more drag than it should have had, but attempts to clear weeds had no effect. Since it was probably my imagination I decided I'd just have to live with it and continue pedaling.

Soon I reached the end of the last dock on Mercer. Traci was near the middle of the channel, but she was heading a bit further east than where I perceived the finish to be located. If that was true, then here was another chance to catch her!

Sure enough, she was heading too far eastward. Squinting at the far shoreline I thought I could make out the gray and white Medina City Hall building among the mega mansions on the distant shore. I couldn't be certain, but headed there anyway.

The distance between Traci and I decreased as I started moving parallel to her.

About this time I was startled by the close approach from behind by a small speedboat. At first I thought it might have been one of the bass fishing boats, and was surprised to find it was one of the chase boats. Their wake was enough to cause me to slow my pedaling and brace, throwing off my concentration entirely.

I growled at them a bit, then asked what was up. I was somewhat dismayed to find that they were doing this in order to get some closeup shots of me. "Guys! Can't you see I'm trying to beat Traci? You're throwing me off!"

They followed a bit on the other side as I started cranking the boat faster. Traci had discovered the correct location of the finish line and was going for it.

I cranked faster still, getting the speed over 7.5 to 8 mph for maybe ten seconds as my legs tired, and then dropping back to 6.5 for thirty seconds of recovery. I repeated this a couple of times, gradually getting closer and closer to Traci.

Remembering where Adrian said the long course finish line was (between the swimming platform and the high-rise of the bridge, or something like that), I turned further northward. Traci was several boat lengths closer to shore, but there was a chance that we could still cross the finish almost simultaneously. Sure enough, only seconds after the horn was sounded for her it blew again when I had crossed the line. So close, too!

Traci's time was 2:15:12, and my time was about 2:15:15 for an average speed of about 6.2 mph. (I discovered later there was an error in the score keeping that had me down as 2:15:50. 15, 50 - what's the difference? The file creation time stamps of photos I took when Traci crossed and when I crossed the finish told the true story.) The heart rate monitor claimed I was in the zone for 2:12:51, with an average pulse of 140 bpm. The GPS claimed a distance of 14.7 miles, but the track would show the actual distance ... if the track feature was turned on! RATS!!

Somehow I had not turned on the track recording feature, even though I made sure the old track had been erased. Grrr!

I'd have to go with the official distance of 14 miles.

I was quite exhausted, but my legs were not in a state of cramping. Thank goodness for small favors!

I slowly pedaled past the Mt. Baker crew. Their boat was floating along the swimming platform as they each were handed grilled sausages on buns. It seemed somewhat humorous to see all eight with buns in their hands at the same position, as though they were about to indulge in synchronized eating or something.

The food looked too tempting for me to stay out on the water for some finish line shots, so I headed into the tiny bay. With the help of Paul M., we carried the Cadence out of the water and onto the grass.

While it is possible that the boat managed to collect them near the beach, it is also possible that the weeds I discovered hanging from the stuffing box and propeller strut had been collected in the vicinity of Mercer Island. They were not able to be cleared by the weed cutter as they got nowhere near it. So, they managed to slow me down a little and probably cost me at least one position in the event.

Regardles, I would have been much better off if I had some sort of energy food or gel with me!

The sausages were being consumed as fast as they were being grilled. I had to wait a few minutes for mine, and had to satisfy my immediate hunger with peanut M&M's and some good salty pretzels. Still, that hot, juicy sausage on a sauerkraut filled roll was heaven!

While consuming the sausage Jim pedaled across the finish line in his Cadence. I walked down the beach to help carry his boat onto the shore, sausage in one hand and camera in the other. The boat ended up next to mine.

Jim's prop had a lot of weeds around it. Since he had not installed a weed cutting blade this was pretty much to be expected. Still, he had quite a good time - 2:29:55.

We both went to get food and hobnob with the other folks.

Adrian started the awards ceremony after all but the last boat had crossed the finish. The last boat was still quite a distance out, so there was no real need to wait for his arrival.

The short course awards were presented first. The fastest boat across the line was Steve Chapin's, with a time of 47:59 for the 6 miles. This was a speed of just over 7.5 mph. The slowest boat was a kayak, with a time of 1:27:11 and an average speed of just over 4 mph.

Two double kayaks had dads and their young children, and they managed to finish in the middle of pack.

For the long course the fastest boat was the double rowing shell piloted by Richard Tarbell and Greg Spooner. Their time was 1:36:12, for an average speed of 8.7 mph. The slowest boat, which finished near the middle of the ceremony, had a time of 2:58:59, for an average speed of 4.7 mph.

After the ceremony one of the rowers who was using this event to help keep in shape for his upcoming trans-Atlantic rowing race announced that they had brought their transoceanic craft on a trailer with them, and had parked it on the street for all to see.

The boat had been delivered only a few days before. All the customization and rigging of equipment had yet to be performed, but the rower said it should take only a couple of weeks and it would be ready. The hardest part had been making sure that all the needed parts were ordered and delivered on time!

Many of the racers present said that they were happy that someone else was going to row this boat across the ocean!

On that note I loaded up my car and headed home.

What a great day for a race!