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Sunday, April 23, 2006
Charts & Maps
Greetings, Gentle Reader.
To paraphrase MC Hammer, "It's Blog-entry Time."
Yes, as you can see, the "I'm Pulling With Mr. Frei" buttons are in. Good news indeed...yet perhaps not as exciting as the fact that without much of a push (or buttons of gratitude), generous donors have already pledged enough for a $2,015 donation to the Boys' Latin Financial Aid bucket - provided, of course, that I make it to Baltimore. Thank you, one and all! You will be receiving your natty buttons in a couple of weeks. Can tote bags be far behind?
It occurs to me that even though raising money was truly an afterthought in the conception of this trip, I nevertheless could have "The Big One" right off the Troy dock, ride the eddies of the Hudson, and hit Ellis Island 155 miles - if many days - later, thereby raising funds posthumously. Cool.
This was a momentous week for planning. I set out to procure charts adequate for the task of strategizing the trip. The Lil' Magellan in me had thought that if I just kept the ocean to my right and land to my left after I hit New York City (remember, I'm rowing, facing backwards), all would be well; I would then simply have to stay vigilant after two weeks or so to the approching Charm City skyline, then, badda bing badda boom, champagne.
Not so. My initial planning has been done using a Best Western Road Atlas and a ruler...fine for rough distances and dreaming, not helpful for reality checks. An initial perusal of my new nautical charts reveals two particularly challenging stretches. First, after getting past NY Harbor, there's a 30 mile-or-so unprotected stretch of Jersey Shore to contend with before I can get "inside" on the Intercoastal Waterway. With calm, or pushed by a gentle NE breeze, it might be a cakewalk. Any other conditions will present challenges that will likely compel me to wait it out. In Jersey.
The other daunting body of water looks to be the Delaware Bay; it took up the whole kitchen table, so imagine how big it will look in real life. I've got a 70 mile up-current pull from Cape May to the Chesapeake Canal. The weather will be a real driver on this leg as well, and a delay will camp me out amid Jersey's storied chemical plants, a bucolic nuclear facility, and a paucity of options. Hey, it's for the kids.
Yet by the time I get to the Delaware Bay, my guess is that the callouses will be cauterized, my posterior anesthetized, my brain deep fried...and the pull of being so close to home will be strong.
So I've rolled the charts up for now, or at least until my workout regimen gives me more cause for confidence. Laying them all out at once is a sobering vision, and I may well be psychologically better off if I approach this thing, for now, as a series of delightful, sun-drenched day-trips.
Right.
Thanks to those of you who have pledged. Your pins will be on the way soon (as soon as I can get to Kathy's, in Virginia, to pick them up). To those of you who are signing on late and wonder what the sam hill this is about, scroll down to the first blog and catch up.
Ketchup. Yes. It's dinner time.
Latah!
Mr. Frei
To paraphrase MC Hammer, "It's Blog-entry Time."
Yes, as you can see, the "I'm Pulling With Mr. Frei" buttons are in. Good news indeed...yet perhaps not as exciting as the fact that without much of a push (or buttons of gratitude), generous donors have already pledged enough for a $2,015 donation to the Boys' Latin Financial Aid bucket - provided, of course, that I make it to Baltimore. Thank you, one and all! You will be receiving your natty buttons in a couple of weeks. Can tote bags be far behind?
It occurs to me that even though raising money was truly an afterthought in the conception of this trip, I nevertheless could have "The Big One" right off the Troy dock, ride the eddies of the Hudson, and hit Ellis Island 155 miles - if many days - later, thereby raising funds posthumously. Cool.
This was a momentous week for planning. I set out to procure charts adequate for the task of strategizing the trip. The Lil' Magellan in me had thought that if I just kept the ocean to my right and land to my left after I hit New York City (remember, I'm rowing, facing backwards), all would be well; I would then simply have to stay vigilant after two weeks or so to the approching Charm City skyline, then, badda bing badda boom, champagne.
Not so. My initial planning has been done using a Best Western Road Atlas and a ruler...fine for rough distances and dreaming, not helpful for reality checks. An initial perusal of my new nautical charts reveals two particularly challenging stretches. First, after getting past NY Harbor, there's a 30 mile-or-so unprotected stretch of Jersey Shore to contend with before I can get "inside" on the Intercoastal Waterway. With calm, or pushed by a gentle NE breeze, it might be a cakewalk. Any other conditions will present challenges that will likely compel me to wait it out. In Jersey.
The other daunting body of water looks to be the Delaware Bay; it took up the whole kitchen table, so imagine how big it will look in real life. I've got a 70 mile up-current pull from Cape May to the Chesapeake Canal. The weather will be a real driver on this leg as well, and a delay will camp me out amid Jersey's storied chemical plants, a bucolic nuclear facility, and a paucity of options. Hey, it's for the kids.
Yet by the time I get to the Delaware Bay, my guess is that the callouses will be cauterized, my posterior anesthetized, my brain deep fried...and the pull of being so close to home will be strong.
So I've rolled the charts up for now, or at least until my workout regimen gives me more cause for confidence. Laying them all out at once is a sobering vision, and I may well be psychologically better off if I approach this thing, for now, as a series of delightful, sun-drenched day-trips.
Right.
Thanks to those of you who have pledged. Your pins will be on the way soon (as soon as I can get to Kathy's, in Virginia, to pick them up). To those of you who are signing on late and wonder what the sam hill this is about, scroll down to the first blog and catch up.
Ketchup. Yes. It's dinner time.
Latah!
Mr. Frei
