
It all depends on when the argument begins.

I decided to post this tale now because there were witnesses and I want them to only ADD to this and not post their own separate account of the event that occurred (since eyewitness testimony is always shaky, at best

Bob Gunst and I are two older and very experienced cboaters--make that c-1'ers--that came to the same conclusion that paddling a c-2 together in Richmond's adventure games boatercross event was a GOOD idea. We practiced for about an hour in the Deadline c-2 that I have (the Soileau brother's old boat) and had pretty much worked out the kinks on rolling the boat. It was not too difficult since we both paddle left-handed--by the way, did y'all know that "left-handed" in Latin means "sinister"? This becomes apparent later in this tale. Bob was to paddle stern-left and I was to paddle bow-right. Afterall, I CAN paddle on the right and I DO have great confidence in Bob's cboating ability.

Afterward, Bob decides, BRILLIANTLY, that we need a faster boat. I think that idea is brilliant and announce, quite proudly, that we indeed have a MUCH faster boat for the downriver race--it is the OLD slalom c-2 that the Garvi' brothers used to race. In fact, it is the one they used to win the bronze medal at the World's in Italy back in 1983!

It is race day, so Bob and I paddle on over to Belle Isle and carry the boat up to the start of the race where we learn what Jon Lugbill decided to do with the race this year--it is not the same downriver race it was last year

Jon Lugbill, staying in tune with the latest trend in whitewater racing, had decided that a 3-mile downriver race was not the thing to do this year. Instead, a boatercross event with elimination rounds of 3-boat heats was a more apt event. The racers were to paddle from the top of one rapid, execute upstream turns and downstream manuvers around floating balls and finish about 20 feet below the last, and biggest, rapid on the river. Bob and I thought it was a GOOD idea and quickly decided on how we were going to execute the final rapid with all its crux moves. We were CONFIDENT!

We were the third heat to go and things became obvious right from the start that our plan was not going to work. Our strategy was to launch quickly into the front, cruise to the first ball, power around the upstream turn, cruise past the second ball, run the far left boof over a 6-foot drop, clean the next upstream turn and CAREFULLY ferry over the current at the base of the drop to clean the final upstream turn, and cruise back into the current through the finish line, maintaining our first-place position. Well, it sounds good--even after typing it on here.
This is what happened:
The whistle blows and Bob and I begin to dig HARD to get the boat going (after all, the boat only weighs 30 lb., empty), but the boat SLUGGISHLY begins to move foward and we watch the kyackers zip on ahead of us to the first turn.


I switch to left-handed paddling, AS AGREED, and yell to Bob that we need to start low, power up to the rock in the current and THEN make the ferry move. Bob vigorously disagrees and wants to take the aggressive line to the rock and zip over. He is also SCREAMING at me to go back to paddling on the right. I disagree with his plan and refuse to switch back to the right (might as well tell me to drop my pants in front of a police officer)--we blow our first attempt. We scramble back into the eddy and continue to argue. I feel that Bob is not listening to me and does not care about my feelings


We scramble onto a set of rocks and pull the boat and gear up, everything is accounted for. I am spread-eagled over a boulder holding onto my paddle with one hand, clutching the rock with my other, and one leg is bobbing up and down in the current (still attached to me, of course). I look up to see Bob excitedly jumping up and down as if he is trying to dance a jig and he is pointing back to the rapid. He is yelling something about dumping water out of the boat, getting in, and cleaning the crux move because we still have a chance for second place. I'm laying there exhausted, trying to get the water out of my ear and notice the hole in the boat. As Bob is trying to motivate me, I place my fist through the gaping hole in the boat, then Bob also notices the hole. We politely discuss our options for about 10 minutes--I'm trying to get my breath back and just head downstream with my "tail tucked between my legs"--I just couldn't feel any worse at that time (little did I know

We decide to paddle back up to the base of the drop, peel out into the current and paddle downstream with everyone in awe and amazement that we ARE really that good of a c-2 team. We peel out into the current and I do not know what happened, but we cannot control that boat and right back over we go. This time, I see that we are not near any rocks and commit to rolling the boat. I wait upside down for Bob to set himself up and we STRUGGLE the boat back upright, but we DO complete the roll and we pull over into the next eddy.
We limp our way downstream--exhausted, feeling somewhat embarrassed, but a little redeemed with the roll--and make our way back to the takeout. More embarrassment awaits us downstream, but I shall keep that from making it onto this board.
This is MY accounting and attempt to reconcile MY feelings. Some literary license was used in this tale. Anyone else's version of this tale is THEIR opinion and is to be seen only as THEIR viewpoint and NOT fact.
Link to freestyle event and boatercross on the James River:
http://www.fumatrack.com/xterra.htm
KNeal
P.S. Bob and I shall get back in the Deadline and heal ourselves.
