Initial Post for 2009 Event

Well, here we go again. I can’t believe a whole year has passed and that I’m doing this event again. As I mentioned last year, I developed Paddlin’ for Paws as a one-time event, but we were inspired by a donor who read about us to do it one more time. Dawn Armstrong, Executive Director of the Lake Tahoe Humane Society and S.P.C.A. in South Lake Tahoe (California), has been a strong supporter of this event and has requested to carry on the name hereafter in some manner as a fundraiser for her organization, one of the six that we supported last year.

Last year we earned over $6000 to split among our six designated animal welfare organizations. This year we’d like to earn at least $4000 for the four new charities we’ll support ($1000 each for the mathematically challenged). If we get more than that, it would be really exciting to be able to provide money to even more organizations in need. It is harder to raise money this year with the poor economic climate, having to approach people a second time for support, and a lack of time for fundraising. Ironically and sadly, this is a time of particularly great need for animals, who are being turned over in greater numbers than usual to shelters because people can’t financially support them.

And so, I hope for a successful event not for my sake but for that of the “critters” we seek to help. Four other paddlers join my friend Mo and me this year. Trish McGraw “signed on” last year when she came to do a day paddle with us and said this is on her “bucket list.” Mary Goral is one of my best friends from graduate school at Indiana University, where Mary and I first met in 1992. We are both professors in mathematics education. Mary’s sister-in-law April and her friend Jennie have also joined us. I only met them for the first time tonight. (Mary arrived yesterday and April and Jennie tonight, all from the Midwest.) We range in age from 48-56, mostly toward the upper end, and we come from a total of four states.

One would think we would have gotten in great shape to tackle this challenge, but mid-life is a busy time to fit in such training. Thus, I’m in worse condition than last year, and we are doing the trip in one less day, meaning more miles per day (yes, more math). I returned last Tuesday from playing in the National Senior Games (did I say SENIOR? yikes) at Stanford University, where I’m proud to say my three-on-three basketball team placed 6th of the 23 teams in my age category. I came back quite battered and bruised, so much so that I landed in the emergency room last Tuesday night and worried whether I could make this trip. And it’s unthinkable that I’ve only been on a kayak twice before now—once in May and again for a mild paddle last night. Mary had never even been on a kayak until last month. So, this trip will be “interesting” at the least. Experts say (well, at least my friend Dianna, a competitive kayaker) that training for a trip like this should involve at least two strong paddles per week in addition to working out. I hope heart and strength of spirit will count for something.

This trip has had many challenges before we’ve even hit the water. Two people who had committed to the trip wanted to join us without raising any funds. I had to turn them away because this did not fit the spirit of the trip. One helper dropped out only yesterday and had to be replaced. And so forth. But among the various stumbling blocks that come with any such grandiose plans, the worst came tonight when I thought we finally had details nailed down. Mo called from her grounded plane in Philly to say storms had delayed their departure and she may not make her connecting flight. We all held our breath for a few hours (well, not really, or I wouldn’t be around to write this, but you know what I mean) and waited to hear from Mo. We finally heard from Mo around 9:00 p.m. Our crossed fingers slowly unfolded in disappointment as we learned that Mo would be stuck in Salt Lake City over night and would not arrive until 9:15 a.m. tomorrow (Tuesday).

Mo’s delayed arrival set off another round of problem solving that couldn’t lead to an ideal solution for everyone. We have to stick to our plan to depart at 6:00 a.m., because everything is carefully choreographed among many people. Trish will come from her house in Minden to meet us at Incline Village (along the lake's north shore, for you non-locals), where friends Jan Groff and Sue Jorth will await us in their respective houses to drive us in our cars (mine, Trish's) to the put-in place and return our cars to their houses to park until further duty. My friend Terri Bostick will meet us at Sand Harbor to do a day paddle with us. A kayak rental company will drop two kayaks for April and Jennie. And so, a delayed start isn’t possible for these reasons and the fact that our departure time is listed on our website. Of course, we wouldn’t want to miss the band playing and ticker tape parade likely to consume Sand Harbor’s early morning sands to give us a proper send-off. Further, our lack of physical preparation for this average 12-mile-a-day trip on individual kayaks on an ocean-like lake means it wouldn’t be smart for women of our seasoned years (drama effect added) due to the importance of avoiding the early afternoon winds that tend to kick up like clockwork on Tahoe.

And so, the intent is to proceed as planned for beginning this journey. Jan Groff, who has been helpful beyond measure last year and this, offered to take us to the put-in place and then make the hour drive to Reno to pick up Mo at the airport and taxi her to the lake. We will take Mo’s kayak with us and decide what to do with it so it is ready for Mo’s arrival. We might lock it up on a beach somewhere or have Jan paddle it to the first stop (a nice brunch at the Hyatt), where I would await Mo so she doesn’t have to miss this meal, our favorite from last year. We would thus have the others eat and move on. Mo and I would then power paddle to see if we can catch up with the others and avoid the afternoon winds. I can tell Mo is quite disappointed because she will miss a small part of the lake. I guess it’s an athlete thing, but even if I paddled 71.9 miles of the 72-mile shore of this great lake, I would feel deflated and haunted in the same way I suppose Mo does for knowing she'll miss just under 3 miles. I get that, so we’ll see if there’s any way we can figure out how to handle that physically and/or psychologically.

Last year I stayed up all night before this event because I had so much to do. I swore I’d get a good night’s sleep this year so I wouldn’t be nodding off in the water like last year every time we idled for a few moments on that first day and the gently rocking waters sent me head-bobbing. But here I am with three hours till the alarm sounds and still much to do before we leave. My goal is to lay down for two hours, but I might just be giving myself false hope. I don’t want to face the fact that I might again enter the first day of this challenge similar to that of last year: looking and feeling like something the cat dragged in, doing two-wheelers around the mountain curves up to Tahoe to catch our ride to the launching point, and frantically stuffing a few blueberries and carrots in my mouth, the only things I had in my fridge on last year's starting date (the healthy stuff is what tends to stick around longest in my house).

Thank goodness my pal Mary arrived yesterday. She helped me a great deal in final preparations for this event. And it’s that time where I become touched by people’s thoughtfulness and support. Many friends have rallied around me (us) to offer help and support in a variety of ways. Besides the many well wishes and donations and such, I have to mention Jan Groff again. She has gone above and beyond both last year and this year to help in any way possible, from collecting money to giving rides to cooking meals…. Natasha Hrenoff is a first-time helper who took off almost a week of work to shadow us around the lake and carry our gear, set up tents, sing with us, whatever it takes to keep our morale up. (The idea of a “sag wagon” that we might be tempted to jump on may be dangerous, though.) Celia Ranson returns to help this year, cooking us a gourmet meal (so it’s spaghetti, but everything will seem gourmet after a grueling day on the lake) and giving us great moral support like she did last year when she helped us survive the final two days. Many others have played an important part in pulling off this event. While the concrete assistance is necessary and is greatly appreciated, I think what matters most is that I feel a great sense of gratitude and camaraderie with these helpers, who are always pleasant and positive and selflessly focus on us and the “cause” we are pursuing. It truly restores my faith in people and in the value of friendship (sappy but authentic moment).

Speaking of helpers, I will now turn over my blog to volunteer bloggers for the next five days. Tamela Gorden of Reno will do the first three days, Sue Labman of Maple Shade, New Jersey (“Joisey”) will do the following two days, and I’ll do the last day (assuming I’m not on the bottom of the lake—is that bad karma or just sick humor?). I hope my blogging friends will introduce themselves so our audience knows a little bit about the writers bringing you our stories. And I hope you will read the daily blogs and pose comments if you are so inclined.

Thank you all for your support of this amazing adventure I’ve had the good fortune of creating and participating in. And thank you to the paddlers who will make their way along one of the nation’s largest and most beautiful lakes one stroke at a time to challenge themselves at an exciting crossroads in life (my fellow paddlers aren’t too keen on my descriptor of us as middle-aged, but I claim it!) and, especially, to help create a better life for the animal friends who enrich our lives in so many ways and who, in return, deserve and depend on our efforts to make their worlds a happier place.