Pictures!

Greetings, Gentle Reader,

Tomorrow I'm back on the water...but this evening Kathy has led me through the electronic magic and enabled me to post some pictures with comments. I'll take more that I'll post when this is all over, and perhaps Kathy and Peg will post some that they take as they shadow me for a few more days. But me...starting tomorrow, my attention returns - finally - to the last 200 miles of this trip. It's (past) time to get down to it. Now, Kathy will offer guidance for those of you who, like me, might be Techno-Peasants and uncertain of how to see these flix.

Latah! Kathy?

Thanks, Al.

To see Al's photos, go to http://www.flickr.com/photos/ktylerconk/sets/72157605887017822/

Click on Slideshow near the top right. When the first photo pops up, click on the "i" in the center of th photo to read Al's descriptions as you proceed through the show. If you want to get rid of the information and just see the photo, click on the little "x" about 2/3 down on the right side of the photo.

Alternatively, you can just click on each individual photo and read the descriptions. If you want to see the photo in a larger size, click on "all sizes" above the photo and choose the size you would like.

A Pause

Greetings, Gentle Reader,

This is a first: writing a blog entry while underway! This magic is only possible because Peg & Kathy have chosen to meet up with me here in Seneca Falls. After two nights of lakefront camping on Cayuga's waters, I am now in room 234 of a Holiday Inn, sipping on a coffee, anticipating a hot shower and a day of frolicking through the region's wine country with two wonderful ladies...and then one more evening of civilization (defined as "shower, fresh towels") before I strike out again in earnest on Monday.

I'm taking copious and definitive notes along the way, and I will not take the time now to cram the adventure into this single entry. But, previews of future chapters include:

1. The NYS Canal System Lock Keepers are awesome. They maintain their 1915 facilities and machinery with the precision and pride of craftsmen - indeed, they have to be - and they take care of my passings with the same attentiveness and hospitality they would afford a barge of $5/ gallon (or is it now $6? $7?) fuel oil. It's stunning to me that this extrordinary infrastructure is available to me, a lowly rowboat, and is offered with smiles and enthusiasm. These guys have put friendly faces and lively banter into this sojourn, and I'm appreciative of their encouragement. Thanks, Lock Keepers!

2. The Morehouse Family on Cayuga Lake. On Thursday I rowed through the entry canal to the Finger Lakes with the vague intention of finding the Cayuga Lake State Park. Just north of the Park I bumped into shore at what used to be the Morehouse Boat Company...and have since been adopted and treated like royalty by the extended Morehouse Family. Kathy has placed a link on this site to their former family business and history. It's a story that has come to life for me in meeting the children and grandchildren of a colorful and enterprising entrepreneur. I plan to about them later, but the link provides the history. Thanks, Morehouse family. You guys rock!

3. The Row Itself. I'm feeling pretty good. I might have gone a bit overboard with a 50-miler on my second day, but the hands are hardening nicely...and yes, the derrierre is the weak link. I've used my "sliding"seat sparingly, having to "rest"in the relative comfort of the fixed wicker seat and sacrificing some speed in the process. Yet keeping the boat moving at 3.9-4.2 mph is preferable to having to take periodic "butt breaks" after 4.3-4.9 mph legs. The canal itself is placid and great water for rowing: no appreciable current (what little there is has been with me), no strong winds, and very little traffic. Yet in that way it is "unforgiving" if honest. You get what you put into it: no extra benefit of a tidal push or a trailing breeze, no penalty of a contrary current or sea zephyr. Like life, maybe. But, all-in-all, this is nice rowing. And as already hinted, the people and scenery make this a very intimate experience. Nothing is more than 40 feet away.

4. Finally, a possible Change of Plan: As I suspected, this row is as much a transit through the history of a region as it is a simple row along a canal. Yes, I've had a 50 mile day and some 30's...but I can already see that at this rate, my pace will extend this journey well into July should I keep Whitehall as a declared destination...probably the 10th or 11th...and I have to board a plane for a seminar on the 13th. Yes, I'd love to make it all the way to Whitehall...but not at the expense of having to blow right past the history and characters that beckon along the gunwhales. I want to row, and row hard, but it's clear that this journey is truly and literally all about the journey, not the destination. There is simply too much to see and learn...and the people along the way are far too welcoming and interesting...to just row on by.

So...Gentle Reader, I hope you will not think lesser of me if I call it quits in Troy. That will complete the "classic" Erie from Buffalo to the Hudson (342 miles, plus locks, plus maybe another 20-30 miles of meandering on the Finger Lakes and tributaries). But I want to savor this, not rush it as I would have to if I am to catch my plane on the 13th.

Will you stay with me? Am I a wuss? Sure, in ten minutes I'll be cavorting among the vineyards with the ladies, not hard at the oars. But, wouldn't you? And... is 342 ++ enough?

Hope so.

Much, much more later. Are you there?

Hugs,

Al

PS

Thanks, Tom, for the poignant pledge; that "57" number is getting bigger all the time; will you still be there (and flush) at 80? 90?

And Brian, thanks for your colorful commentary and insightful reflections. Your "Comments"deserve point/counterpoint responses that I cannnot attend to at this moment. But I will. Oh yes, I will.

And finally, Chuck, I'm inching closer, ever closer to Red Raider territory. I won't be half suprised to see your name carved into the aged vines of the Cayuga Wine region. You and your buds were never far from succor in Seneca, nes pah?

Seneca Falls

Peg and I met up with Al this afternoon at Cayuga Lake State Park ,where he has made some new friends and has had a nice camping experience. He was interviewed by a reporter for the FINGER LAKES TIMES earlier today. Hopefully, I will be able to post the article when it appears.


I managed to get his camera away for a few minutes, so am posting a few photos. You can see the size of the locks that he is going through, which are enormous compared to those on the Canal du Midi in France. Also, shots of Mr. Frei and his mother as he is about to embark on the voyage.

For those wanting to enter the contest, he is not rowing again until early Monday morning, so factor that into your guesses.

Mr. Frei plans on posting some words for you all tomorrow!

Kathy

Mr. Frei finally getting to do some reading

As you know, Mr. Frei is an avid reader, and he is finally taking enough of a rest to start reading from the stash of books that he purchased when stopping in Saratoga, NY last weekend. This photo was taken on the Canal du Midi in Southern France last July. That week-long canal trip was taken on a self-hire barge, and there was plenty of time for reading.

When I see him tomorrow, I will find out about his latest book.

Wednesday Evening - Update to last post

I just had a call from Peg. Al actually made it past Montezuma, and is sitting on a bench on Cayuga Lake eating a hamburger. A nearby family was having a cookout and brought it to him. One of their little girls also brought him some dandelions.

Earlier he found a bar with a buffet, and managed to scarf down a lot of food.

He has also befriended someone named George Zeth, who used to build boats, and gave him the address of his Finger Lakes Boating Museum http://www.flbm.org/. The boat on the home page looks very similar to Mr. Frei's. It sounds as though he will be attending the Morehouse Boat Reunion of antique boats this weekend, while getting some rest. http://www.flbm.org/morehouse_boat_reunion_2008.htm

Wednesday Evening - Montezuma's Revenge?

Tonight I thought Brian's comment would be appropriate for this blog. As you will see, food might be scarche for Mr. Frei tonight!

"So, maybe if he's lucky, Albert will be spending tonight in lovely Clyde, NY, population about 2200, which is good, because only maybe two of them will be cops who might wake him up as he sleeps in the public parks.Ahh .... Clyde .... named after the river in Scotland, it was once a major manufacturer of peppermint oil.And interestingly, German POWs were held in Clyde during World War Two. But I'll bet they never saw an Aryan like Albert, bulked on YooHoo and Chinese takeout. Lookout Clyde!I note with interest that Clyde has a restaurant called "Aunt Ju Jus Chew Chew" and I just hope Albert takes the time to check it out and report back on what that's all about.And my advice is, stay in Clyde. After that is the Montezuma National Wildlife refuge http://friendsofmontezuma.org/, and the town of Montezuma, which could be a kind of revenge for pushing too far.The only restaurant in town: The Clifford House, and Albert, unless you've been sneaking in a shower here and there, they're not likely to serve you."

Al is spending the next few days in Cayuga State Park. Peg and I are planning to meet him at Seneca Falls on Saturday. We are taking him a life preserver, since a rumor is running around that he won't be allowed through some locks without one.

Tuesday evening at Lock 30

Al spent the night of the 24th at Lock 30, near Macedon, NY. It was a 30-mile day. Apparently, he tried to stay in Fairport, NY (the jewel of the Erie Canal), but they wouldn't let him sleep there, so he continued on to the lock, so that he would be ready to go through it Wednesday morning.

We haven't heard from him today, and think it is due to a bad cell phone signal. Hopefully, there will be more news tomorrow!

Monday Evening in Brockport

Al rowed 42 miles on Monday and was quite sore by the evening! He stopped in Brockport, NY (see A on map).

Someone, who shall remain nameless, has suggested another contest for all readers who would like to guess Al's arrival date and time at Whitehall. Please email me (ktylerconk@aol.com) with date and time, and any suggestions for what the prize should be. Dinner with Al to hear about his adventure is one idea, which would sure be my choice. But creative ideas are always good to hear, so have at it!

I hope we get some more pledges, as he is quickly catching up to the red line on the Can-Al-Ometer!

Kathy

P.S. If you double-click on the photo, the map will be enlarged for easier reading!

Monday Morning

Al called as he was having breakfast at a Friendly’s in Lockport. After launching at Tonawanda at the beginning of the canal, he rowed 15 miles to Lockport and had to stop at the first lock since it was closed for the night. He spent the night on the dock at the lock, and except for the cold and a few passing showers, slept fairly well. The row was easy – calm water and a trailing wind – and the great thing about rowing so close to land is the impression it gives you that you’re really moving. The locks are huge for someone used to the Canal du Midi; he’s got two to go through at Lockport, then the next one isn’t for 63 miles near Rochester.

Please vote in the poll on the right side of the page...

Thanks to the people who responded with pledges last night! It energizes Mr. Frei!

News Flash! He's off a day early!

7PM Sunday - Just had a phone call, and Mr. Frei decided to leave Buffalo this afternoon. At the current time, he has rowed about a mile.

The Can-Al-Ometer is just past Rochester, and it would be great if we could keep it ahead of Al!

Rochester is only a few days away! Feel free to email me at ktylerconk@aol.com with pledge amounts, and Al will ask you for the money after the row has been completed.

Tomorrow...tomorrow...

Greetings, Gentle Reader, July 21, 2008

As I sit here this evening on my mom's porch at Lake Grorge, two thoughts emerge.

The first is my recollection that the last time I wrote a blog entry from this halcyon spot, I was training aggressively for The Big Row of 2006, knocking off 20+ mile days, hardening the hands and derriere, developing the attitudes of patience and perseverance that that would see me through the 452 miles to come. Today, my first and only day here at the Lake- the objective being to collect my boat for this upcoming adventure- the boat didn't even get wet; it went from its rack in the garage directly to the roof of the car, ready for the drive to Lake Erie tomorrow morning. Other than handling the boat, today's most strenuous act was chipping some ice out of the freezer for the delightful Vodka Tonic. That ice was really wedged in there.

The second and more pleasant thought is what a joy it is to be here, if only for a day. This place is the center of gravity for my family, best friends, and many, many happy memories. There simply has to be some psychic benefit to this (however brief) recharge. Yes, my preparation is too much like The Music Man's "Think System"...but believe me, it's the Think System performed at a very, very high level of competence indeed.

So, mom will accompanying me to the shores of Lake Erie tomorrow- what an intrepid mom! I hope to be on the water by 2 PM or so, leaving enough daylight to get off of Lake Erie, through Buffalo, and into what the map promises to be some clear countryside (and promising campsites) by dark. I'll be calling in to Kathy or borrowing computers for entries once I get going...I know I owe my faithful readers more than these lack-of-preparation confessionals.

Hey, the VT's getting low; time to chip a little more ice to get the wrists in shape.

To mom, Bill, Matt, Peg, Kathy, and the rest of the supporting cast, thanks for helping me get this far, even if I have yet to get wet.

Hugs,

Mr. Frei

Reading for Row

Reading for Rowing

Greetings, Gentle Reader, June 18, 2008

I see that Kathy has installed a nifty "Can-Al-O-Meter to track contributions, and while it's cool to see that we're closing in on Rochester, Whitehall seems quite a long way away…both fiscally and nautically. Hitting you all up for Financial Aid money was not the intent, but it's nice to see that many of you are already generously nudging me through the canal with your checkbooks. Thanks!!

It's hard to believe that in only four days I'll be on the water. My hands are soft, I haven't rowed a stroke in a real boat since last summer, but as I said to Brian tonight, "Sometimes you just have to push an old guy into a boat and let him go." I continue to gaze at my chart and am now scanning the long range speculations of The Weather Channel, but this hardly counts as constructive preparation. I guess I'll have to subscribe to The Music Man's "Think Method." As I recall, Robert Preston enjoyed a happy ending; we can only hope the same for this production, yes?

On a completely different note, I'm just finishing Common Wealth by Jeffrey Sachs, a treatise concerning "economics for a crowded plant." In the course of measuring our environment's health and prospects from every imaginable perspective, he optimistically charts a path to sustainability through a thicket of profoundly disturbing statistics. Of course, the reality of sustainability depends entirely on malfunctioning institutions being smitten (very soon) with the capacity for rational, holistic thought and the impulse to act rationally, in unity, for the common good.

Show of hands, please?

Nonetheless, it's a great read even for those of us who are quantitatively challenged because it raises the kinds of questions that we need to vocal about as we launch into a Presidential year. For example, did you know that within easy technological and logistical reach we have the ability to fully protect 300 million people from malaria each night for five years for the cost of one day's Pentagon budget? You didn't jump on the blog to listen to me rant, but get the book and rant to those who need to change, 'K?

On a more whimsical note, I have of late joined The Cloud Appreciation Society. There are 8,000 of us sprinkled across 43 countries, and in their recent photologue, Hot Pink Flying Saucers , editor Gavin Pretor-Pinney observes, "Our extensive and rigorously scientific research has shown us that people tend to see shapes when they are cloud gazing in a relaxed and contented manner- when they have time on their hands and are not particularly bothered whether they find a shape or not." (Go to www.cloudappreciationsociety.org for more.)

The confluence of these two recent books seems perfect for my row. Sachs argues persuasively that the beauty I will soon see is indeed ephemeral; if we don't act aggressively and soon to preserve it, it will inexorably and inevitably be gone. Pretor-Pinney, of course, will calm me down between rants as I "cloud gaze in a relaxed and contented manner."

Rant, gaze. Rant, gaze. I feel a certain rhythm, don't you?

I head to Lake George on Friday, then to Buffalo O-Dawn-Early on Sunday to be rowing by late afternoon. Some final packing tomorrow…maybe a final pull at the rowing machine at the gym down the street…I'll try another entry before I head off, but this won't really get interesting until after Monday.

Be patient. I certainly will need to be as I streak eastwards at 4 mph… for 400+ miles.

Rant, gaze, rant, gaze…repeat.

Hugs,

Mr. Frei

The CAN-AL-OMETER

This Can-al-ometer will be kept at the bottom of the blog, so scroll down whenever you want to see how much money has been raised.

One Week to Go!

One Week to Go! June 15, 2008

Greetings, Gentle Reader,

These infrequent entries will hardly be substantial enough to warrant another Big Row - esque book, but then, perhaps (as been said about the Presidential campaigns), enough has been written, enough has been said.
(Take note, Fox: When content chases volume, boredom and disenfranchisement ensue.)

This being said, one week from today I will be in transit to Buffalo in order to be on the water next Monday. The logistics of actually getting to the water are proving to dwarf the rest of the expedition's requirements. You see, asking someone to drive you to Buffalo with a 15' boat strapped to their car is no small request and is proving to be beyond even my own considerable moxie. Mom offered to drive me out…with the proviso that she then "come along for a lock or two," thinking that "there must be a Hyatt or something along the way" that would afford shelter. While she is renowned for her appetite for long-distance driving (slide War and Peace into the CD player and she's good non-stop to Kansas City), I gracefully (and gratefully) declined her overly generous offer…but you know, I bet that I'll pass three Hyatt's over the first 50 miles.

So the game plan is to 1) drive a rental car out west, 2) find a secure launching point on Lake Erie, 3) drop off the boat, 4) ditch the rental at the Buffalo Airport, 5) cab back to the boat (hopefully still there), and 6) finally, push off. Whew.

Other preparatory activities have included some visits to the gym (depressing), a shopping spree for supplies/gadgets at REI (expensive, but thrilling), a walkabout at the local bookstore (a day in the tent out of the rain might be nice), and more perusal and planning over the charts (always a vicarious pleasure). As next Monday draws near I'll include monitoring The Weather Channel in my mix; hey, let's all coalesce our psychic energy for a deep, enduring cold front out of Canada (winds WNW at 190-15 kts, if you please) starting next Monday, shall we?

Commercial Pause: Gentle Reader, may I pause for a moment to update you on the heretofore understated fundraising aspect of this sojourn? Kathy (Exalted Blogmistress) assures me that we will have a pledge paddle (and pledge instructions) up on this site in short order. No, this is not a full-court-press fundraiser as was The Big Row…but a little would be nice, and as you may recall, it all goes to financial aid for deserving fellows at Boys' Latin School where I teach 8th grade English. Pending Kathy's efforts, if the spirit moves you right now, you can certainly let me know of your largesse via my e mail at alfrei@earthlink.net , and we'll take it from there. We raised over $18,000 in '06, and while we're headed to two thou right now, a lil' bit more gravy over the '06 potatoes would be nice. It goes to (effectively and efficiently) support great kids…and you have my profound thanks for whatever you might do. Pass that gravy along, 'K?

One of the highlights of this trip promises to be a side-trip to Seneca Falls, the acknowledged birthplace of the women's rights movement and home of the National Women's Hall of Fame. Peg and Kathy have suggested that they might meet me there, affording me the opportunity to start the nomination process that will install these two deserving stalwarts in that hallowed hall. Getting there will entail darting off the main canal about 130 miles (and 14 locks) into the trip, heading down the short Cayuga-Seneca Canal which connects the Erie with Seneca and Cayuga lakes. I've seen the Finger Lakes many times from seat 34A at 28,000 feet…and once when I visited Cornell as a teaser for college admissions…but getting on their clear waters will, I suspect, be a welcome change from the Yoo Hoo of the Canal itself. At that point I'll have 130 miles of sea stories under my (hopefully tightening) belt to share with the ladies over a campfire (imagine their rapture at that prospect. Sigh). I don't know how far into the Finger Lakes I will go; as with The Big Row, the lack of choreography is a particular delight in this kind of travel, and I'll proceed as the spirit, weather, and my derriere dictate. Just expect an extensive Blog communique at that point, OK? The Blogmistress will find a way.

That's it for now. I'm off to the gym for another rehabilitation session. A persistent rotator cuff tear, a partially detached bicep, an Achilles ripper, and (of all things) tinnitus (sp? It's that perpetual "ringing in the ears" thing) - and a few too many pounds - are all that stand in the way of physical perfection. This reminds me of that wonderful "Lost" poster for the wayward dog: "Missing right front leg, lost left eye, neutered last year, abdominal scar tissue…answers to the name of Lucky."

"Lucky," signing off for now. More soon, I promise.

Hugs,

Mr. Frei

What's with Dr. Paniche?

What's with Dr. Paniche? June 8, 2008

Greetings, Gentle Reader,

Ok, Ok…I've been besieged with questions about the photo that accompanies this blog - the one in which I'm sporting an institutional white coat and curious headgear. Here's the story.

Last summer, Peg, I, and three other crewmembers (including Kathy, our peerless Blogmistress!) spent a week on the Midi Canal in France. For those not in the know (as I was deeply not in the know; Peg and Kathy, devout Francophiles, arranged this trip), the Midi Canal bisects France from the Med to the Atlantic. It is a true historical (and pre-Industrial Age technological) treasure, meandering through the northern Pyrenees and southern France's extraordinarily beautiful countryside. Starting about 100 miles north of Toulouse, we piloted a 38 foot barge through dozens of picturesque "Architectural Digest" locks, over rivers and gorges via aqueducts, and put-putted through charming villages, breathtaking forests, manicured farmlands, and, of course vineyards. Lots of vineyards. Oh, yes.

Peg and I have done a bit of sailing over the years…the Virgin Islands, the San Juan's in British Columbia, shorter jaunts on Champlain and elsewhere…and one of the key tasks that a bare-boater faces is provisioning. Stocking the boat wisely has implications for the degree of independence you can enjoy as a voyager, as well as for the quality (and efficiency) of the fare you consume along the way.

Needless to say, provisioning a barge for a countryside jaunt in France is a different matter. The fact is, when you get hungry on the Midi, rather than go below to rustle up well-considered provisions, you simply turn the wheel to the left (or right), bump the barge into the grassy shore, tie it up, toss your bike(s) ashore, jump from the boat with an empty sack or pack, and peddle off to the culinary Nirvana that is rural France. Were I rowing this canal this summer, my biggest concern would be trying to figure out which Fat Camp I'd need to patronize upon my return…and for how many weeks.

So…again, you ask, "This is fascinating stuff, Al, I'm really riveted, but what's with Kathy's whimsical Dr. Paniche photo?"

"Paniche" refers to the style of barge we chartered from Locaboat. A nifty little craft, it was spacious enough for five but sufficiently maneuverable to negotiate locks and docks with ease.

The hat is a different story and, let's face it, the real story. The photo would be otherwise unremarkable were it not for the hat, nes pah? Our barge was equipped with numerous bumpers (fenders) to prevent us from scraping the sides of the vessel as we transited locks. Sadly, one of our bumpers was a casualty of an "event" involving the wall of a lock, tearing in half amid the bloodcurdling screams of my crew….or perhaps it was poor Billy Bumper himself?

Anyway, with a little trimming, my crew fashioned Billy's top half into quite a stunning headpiece, one that commanded attention and respect among the locals as we locked through. Attired in the white coat, brandishing a staff (the brush), fortified by the viticulture of the countryside, and egged on by my shameless crew, we were expedited through each and every lock after Billy's untimely demise.
"Ugly Americans?" I think not. Natty? Improvisational? Resourceful? Perhaps. You be the judge. At least we gathered some smiles for America along the way, if not enhanced international respect. (I should think that Obama's international stature would soar should he don such a hat during his next press conference. McCain…not so much. Could be a little scary, in fact,)

On a more bittersweet note, last Friday we graduated our 60 eighth grade scholars. It was gratifying for me and my dedicated colleagues to see so many great kids now move on to the rigors of high school. I find eighth graders to be enthralling because they are in a state of such enormous transition. Physically, emotionally, socially, and intellectually, they are in metaphorical fusion with themselves and the world, which makes it incredibly invigorating (and challenging) to work with them. Anyway, they're off to the next life- stage, and while I already miss them and the wonderful pattern and rhythm of the school year, alas, they must "go." In fact, that's what I told them at the end of my brief remarks and a favorite poem: "Just…..go!"

And…they did. Sigh.

Two weeks from today - give or take a day - I should be pushing off from Lake Erie on my way to Whitehall. I'm excited, if a little concerned about my physical conditioning (at least compared to the prep for The Big Row in '06), but I'll be ready.

Hey, are ya comin' with me via the blog? I'd love to see some activity on the "Comments" board! I enjoy the therapy of writing, to be sure, but I'd be delighted to have some company. And if there is anything you'd like me to riff about, clarify, or expand on in future blogs, just let me know!

Hugs,

Mr. Frei

Man vs. ?

Greetings, Gentle Reader,

Mental preparation is underway. This week I received a map from the nice folks in New York State. A map! I have a map! All that remains is to find my toothbrush, dip the oars in the water, and go, right?

The map is revealing. For example, I'll be traversing through 34 locks over 340 miles on my way to Troy, then another dozen or so as I head about 60 miles north to Lake Champlain. The good news here is that the large majority of the locks heading east are "down," promising tranquil waters from level to level; "up" locks get a bit turbulent as they flood, so in this respect I am lucky.

The map suggests that one should allow 30 minutes to pass through a lock. I suspect this estimate presumes that the Lockmaster is ready to take you in; clearly, if one arrives out of phase with the system, 30 minutes could stretch to considerably more, and there's no guarantee that they will immediately start a cycle in the event that I - a lowly rowboat - am the only vessel in the queue. (Please note that I will henceforth capitalize "Lockmaster," as they will exert considerable control over my progress.)

The good news in this is that I'll most likely have some down-time between sprints (Sprints? Ha Ha!) to stretch, read, kibbutz with fellow sojourners, or explore. The bad news is that this lock "thang" will make it tough to predict a schedule. I mean, 34 locks, taken in perfect synchronicity, will add 17 hours to my time in the boat. The row from Troy to Baltimore took a bit more than 110 hours of seat time with nary a lock along the way, so this will definitely change the pace of (and my control over) my progress. Say la vee, nes pah?

Another fascinating aspect of the lock reality is their distribution over the length of the canal. 34 locks over 340 miles yields a neat theoretical 10 miles per stage. Yet after my second lock, I'll have clear rowing for 61 halcyon miles - almost all the way to Rochester, which promises to be a magical stretch. (Gentle Reader, most of my experience in Rochester has been during the winter months; I find it creatively challenging to place the word "magical" in the same sentence with Rochester and look forward to crushing my unfair stereotype.) At the other extreme, when I approach the Hudson, I traverse through 6 (six!) locks in the space of 1.5 (one point five!) miles. Go figure. But topography is what it is, and our forbears did their best.

This blogsite carries links to the locks - nice alliteration, kids - and you will find, as I know I will, a great deal about the colorful history of the ditch and its contemporary revival.

Today I was talking with a colleague, Bobby, about the row. Bobby is the kind of fascinating and enormously accomplished guy about whom books should - and perhaps will - be written. One of his many subtle strengths is his ability to turn any conversation around to you. It's a precious and all-too-rare art, and of course he employed it on me today during school, getting me to thinking about the nature of this row and how it will compare to "The Big Row" of 2006. That row was, as I think about it, a classic "man vs. nature" experience. While I never felt my natural surroundings to be contending against me (except, perhaps, on the frigging Delaware River), the sheer scope, distance, expanses of salt water, lurking aquatic predators, tides, and contrarian unobstructed prevailing winds certainly presented challenges. And yes, there was a bit of "man vs. himself" in the mix, too, as I struggled against the above at times to the point of exhaustion. But there was no "man vs. man " issue. I was totally and utterly alone during much of the trip, which in retrospect was much of its magic.

This trip promises to be a bit different. Man vs. nature? I will not face much open water (21 miles on Oneida Lake just east of Syracuse, maybe more if I side-trip to the Finger Lakes…but more on that option later). I'll be no more than 20 feet from shore for most of this adventure; "The Big Row took me 7-10 miles offshore at times. Winds should not be much of a factor, and unless the tsunami hits, nor should tides. I do expect to contend with mosquitoes the size of robins, and I don't plan to underestimate (or under prepare for) their devilish effect. But as far as "man vs. nature" goes, I think that may be it.

Man vs. himself? That's me again, and while I cannot expect a much-needed personal physical transformation between now and mid-June, The Big Row did teach me that distance rowing is as much a head game as anything else. I'll deal with me as best I can. It's all I can do. It won't be pretty.

But man vs. man? Ahhh…now that's worth contemplation. As Shylock says in The Merchant of Venice, "There be land rats and water rats - I mean pi-rats…sailors are but men, and ships are but boards…" This is just to say that I expect this row to be as populated as my last was bereft of people. I look forward to it; a cast of characters offers the prospect of great adventure. But let's face it…we don't head to the Jersey Turnpike to develop relationships. Well, some might, but those are folks I hope not to meet along the way.