Community

They say that you get out of something what you put into it, and I think that that truism is largely true, but in the case of  Eleven Laps Around, I’m way, way out of balance at this point.

First, there’s the matter of the boat. Yesterday morning I drove up to Vermont to retrieve my Adirondack guide boat from its birthplace at (you guessed it) Adirondack Guide Boat in North Ferrisburgh.

 My hull was born in their shop sixteen years ago this summer, and Ian and Jason Martin and Steve Kaulback met me at the door with the justifiable pride and confidence that any accomplished pediatrician would meet a nervous papa collecting his teenager from the hospital. 

My high-mileage teenager needed some work. Not only did Jason and Ian tighten and tweak and patch with their typical super-craft, they also sent me off with some incredibly sexy feather-light spooned pine oars with the charge to “try them out.” 

Folks, believe me, the shape and weight oars have never been the limiting factor of my progress- I have only to look in the mirror to find that- but the prospect of seeing if these aquatic switchblades add a bit of efficiency to my stroke is exciting. 

If it wasn’t raining cats and dogs this morning and if I wasn’t shackled to this writing table by a cup ‘o Joe and a slab of rye toast, I’d be out there right now trying them out. I really would. 

So…my first thanks this morning go out to Ian, Jason, and Steve, plucky and kind entrepreneurs who build beautiful boats that enable old guys like me to keep going. (I’ll report back on the new oars, guys, but they’ll have to be revolutionary to persuade me to leave my cherry oars behind. Did the Lone Ranger swap out Trigger for an untested Palomino? Did Batman audition another athletic kid from New Jersey for the Robin role? Did captain Kirk turn to Scotty for his first counsel upon identifying the Klingons? I think not.) 

That’s Trigger on the left, the untested but promising Palomino on the right…..

   

My second heartfelt thank-you this morning goes out to the community along my route who have emerged to welcome me along the way. I haven’t rowed a stroke yet, but these Finger Lakes Folks are an extraordinary crew. In Homer’s Odyssey, a central tenet of that ancient time was the offering of unconditional hospitality to strangers as a kind of obligation. Wherever a seafarer came ashore, no questions were asked, no tribute was expected, no obligation was created. Wine was poured (the really good stuff, I think….not the swill I push off on family), lamb was roasted, soothing oils and robes were proffered…and security was absolute. Back then, it was the duty of the host to treat the supplicant with the care and attention due to even an honored guest, and a violation of this practice was an offense to the gods. 

Finger Lakes Folks must be avid readers of The Odyssey. 

No, I don’t expect goblets of wine and roasts and massage oil and warm flannel at the shoreline, but the 2022 version of The Odyssey is unfolding in front of me. 

Since the word got out about my intended route, people from Conesus (to the west) to Otisco (in the east) have stepped up to let me, a total stranger, know that I’m welcome to dine, camp out, or even shower at their place as I pass through. There’s a sense of a baton handoff building with me as the baton, and I’m really heartened that I’ll make some wonderful new friends in far-away places. 

I’ve encountered a lot of unconditional kindness through thousands of miles of rowing (and, sadly, a bit of rejection or downright hostility as well), but these Finger Lakes Folk are already a highlight of my trip. 

So if it’s true that we get out of something what we put into it, I’d better start ‘putting in’ pretty soon; I’m already receiving so much from communities of people who give out of kindness, empathy, and a generosity of spirit I’ll try to reciprocate! 

I’ll be on the water “training” tomorrow, finally….and investigating what those new pine planks have to offer. Then I’ll catch up on developments of the Lake George ProcellaCOR debate, start reading in earnest about the environmental organizations that my future hosts support and lead, and like Professor Harold Hill of The Music Man, apply ‘The Think Method’ to my preparation….

More later.

Thanks, all. What a crew I have with me.