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Richard and Steve Across America

We had some trouble with the existing rowing club on our little island. Before we really knew what was happening, a group of dedicated, if naive, parents had started our own rowing club to support our kids. Everything was DIY - Our clubhouse was the basement at a summer camp, our "boathouse" was a wedding tent, our racks were homemade with donated scrap lumber.

Eventually we organized and put on our own regattas. We had multiple glorious seasons. But first, we needed some boats.

In the beginning, Burton Beach Rowing Club (BBRC) was lent boats by other area clubs to get us going. This is a testament to the relationships our coach had built with other clubs as well as the supportive nature of our Pacific Northwest rowing community, but these loaner boats were not ours forever. We needed some of our own.

Our coach, Richard, found some Sykes boats to buy in Baltimore and got a good deal on a boat trailer with which to haul them. At about the same time, we found some used Hudson racing shells for sale in Boston. Used Hudsons, available in good condition, are hard to find, so we decided to act on the opportunity. We'd save a tremendous amount of money if we picked the boats up ourselves.

In the middle of February, I set out with Richard to drive across the country in his Acura MDX to go get three boats in Baltimore and then three more in Boston. Unlike Western Washington, most of the rest of the country was still very much having winter at this time. In fact, there was mild weather on both of the extreme coasts at the time, but nowhere in between. We wanted to make the trip in less than a week, and this was our planned route:

We set out driving from Seattle to Iowa City in one long stretch. Richard is friends with the head women’s crew coach at the University of Iowa, and we would stay with his family for that one night. Things started off well when we left The Island on the 5:20 am ferry, but we got stuck at the Snoqualmie Pass when it was shut down for two hours.

There may or may not have been roadside peeing going on

It was still dark when we got to the pass but was very much light when we finally got moving again. This leg of the journey wasn’t terribly exciting because we just . . . drove. Our first stop for gas, in Coeur d’Alene Idaho, came out to exactly $50. That’s about as exciting as it got. There was snow. Lots and lots of snow (and one Loversize Dad).

Scenery

Somewhere between Idaho and Montana, I took over driving and stayed in the driver’s seat all through the night. Apparently we passed through Wyoming in the darkness.

We had satellite radio, and I listened to Forensic Files on HLN for much of that time (How does anyone ever get away with anything?). We were very lucky in that Richard’s musical taste and mine overlap by about 80%. And we’re both big Beatles fans, so that helped immensely with those long hours on the road.

By the time the sun was coming up on our second day, we were in Iowa.

Iowa

Our host family was incredibly gracious, but I was ready for a shower and bed.

After 36 hours driving in a car

Instead, we took a tour of the incredible boathouse for the women’s crew program at UI. Here we have Title IX in action, and the Hawkeyes have a bit of a men’s football program (some basketball too). So women’s sports get a tremendous amount of money. Among other things, I got to see the largest motorized indoor rowing tank in the world.

After the tour of the school, we took a quick look at Iowa City (the most exciting college town in Iowa!) and then went back to the house for a generous dinner and dessert that included raw cookie dough served in a bowl with a spoon. After dinner, we got that much-needed sleep and shower and then hit the road again, just before dawn.

Leaving Iowa City at dawn. It's not the image that's blurry; it's my eyesight.

We made it across Illinois, Indiana, Ohio and then Pennsylvania just like we’d hoped to. Western Pennsylvania was pretty at sunset.

Sun Setting on Day 3

We rolled into West Baltimore after dark and pulled into a Motel 6, a mistake I will never make again. Perhaps when you walk into a hotel lobby and the front-desk person is sitting behind bullet-proof glass, you might consider finding another place to sleep. We stayed there anyway, and I swear my bag still smells funny just from being in that room overnight.

The next day, we accomplished our first main goal: We picked up Richard’s three boats and the trailer.

Three New Sykes, a Questionable Trailer, and a Working Acura (that's foreshadowing)

For the rest of our trip, we’d have that big trailer behind our car. Before leaving the boatyard, a harbinger of things to come was the fact that one of the headlights went out. It would have been some feat to get to the auto parts store , through that part of Baltimore, with the trailer attached, so one of the super friendly people working at the boatyard drove me to get a new bulb. We got that put in and were on our way North. The plan was to drive up to Boston and then spend the night there. We’d get up early the next morning and meet the coach at Tufts University to buy my three boats. This was supposed to be a relaxing day with an easy drive, but that's not what happened.

Our mood soured steadily as we drove up I-95. We’re not used to toll roads out on the West Coast, but we knew we’d have to deal with them. We also knew they’d be even more expensive with the boat trailer. We were not prepared, however, to have to stop every 20 miles or so to pay another $15-$20. Crossing the George Washington Bridge alone cost us $50.

The Tolls Took Their Toll

And it was crowded. We were in heavy traffic the whole way. And it was, to our eyes, ugly. We came from the Pacific Northwest, through the Mountain States, and then across the prairies and plains. It’s not like I’d never been in a big city before; I’ve actually spent time in these exact cities. But there was something particularly unpleasant about this stretch of road. The service plazas were dirtier and smelly. The people working there seemed hopeless and lost. There just seemed to be so many people living right on top of each other in this expensive part of the country, made entirely out of old concrete.

Every time we had to stop for traffic or to pay another toll, our spirits sank just a little bit more. We did get a glimpse of Manhattan, and I finally saw the Atlantic Ocean on this trip.

Then, somewhere in Connecticut, the A/T Temp light came on.

Between Here and There, the Car Broke Down

We pulled into a disused service area to let the engine cool and find out how serious the problem was. Turns out it was quite serious. We drove a few more miles, and the light came on again and stayed on. We ended up parking on a terrible side street to have a boat trailer on and called a local Acura dealership that also had a service garage. It was 4:00 pm, and we were in Norwalk, Connecticut.

Yo dawg, I know you're about to close, but we have a problem, and here's a giant boat trailer

It was starting to rain as we pulled into Devan Acura of Norwalk. Imagine what these guys must have thought when they saw our rusty old boat trailer pulling onto their lot. Normally they would have been getting ready to go home at this time, but they stayed late and checked out our situation. They even called in their transmission specialist while we waited across the street at Dunkin’ Donuts for the prognosis. It was bad. Richard’s car needed to have the transmission entirely rebuilt. It would take at least a few days, so we ended up checking into the Norwalk DoubleTree. I felt homesick and helpless and wondered when I was going to get to see my kids again.

This was the dark time.

At this point, helpful people made suggestions about renting a truck and going to Boston to get the boats. Some even suggested driving the boats back home with a rented truck and then having Richard fly back to get his car. We didn’t know how long it would take to rebuild the transmission, so we were looking at potentially several days of lost time. We found out, though, that no rental car company would allow us to tow anything (and none of their vehicles would even have a trailer hitch), and moving truck companies will only let you use their trailers, which only haul cars, not racing shells. We were stuck again and reduced to asking strangers (the hostess at the hotel restaurant, the front desk people) if they knew anyone with a truck that had a trailer hitch. We would have paid someone to borrow their truck for the day to go get the boats in Boston so we wouldn’t lose all this time.

Big Trucks Make Things Better

Eventually I made the right comment to the right person. Steve, from the Norwalk AAMCO, was the transmission specialist from the previous night. The following day, we were in his shop to assess the damage. I mentioned our plight to him, and he got right on the phone and made a bunch of calls. It was dizzying to watch him work out the situation. I don’t know how many people he actually spoke to in his no-nonsense, big-East-Coast-city accent, but eventually he handed me a piece of paper with instructions scribbled all over it. We were to go to the Enterprise in the lobby of the Crown Plaza in the next town over, in Stamford. There they had a Ford F-250 with a trailer hitch that we could rent for the day. It was incredible. We were making positive progress again, but it was the last time we’d ever see Steve from AAMCO.

Big Truck, Plus Boat Traler

After getting the truck in Stamford, we had to drive back to Norwalk to pick up the boat trailer from the back of the Acura dealership. The hitch on the F-250 was much higher than the connection on our little trailer, so we had to enlist some muscle from among the mechanics. They even let us use their tools to hook up the trailer. It took some time, but we finally got on the road to Boston.

Big Truck, Plus Boat Trailer, Driving Through Boston

To get to Tufts, we had to drive right through the city of Boston, including the tunnels. This is challenging in the best of circumstances, but hauling the boat trailer took it to a whole other level. We also got a little lost trying to find the boathouse and ended up on a construction site. These things, coupled with a developing migraine and the surprise cost of a new transmission, put Richard in a somewhat beleaguered mood. It was already starting to get dark when we pulled up to the Tufts boathouse and began the process of selecting and purchasing boats.

Haggling Over the Boats with the Tufts Coach

Coach Brian is a super laid-back and nice guy. Eventually we got things sorted out and purchased the three boats we’d planned on and got them lashed to the trailer with the three from Baltimore. By the time we pulled away it was dark. More importantly, it was rush hour in Boston when we drove back down to Stamford Connecticut to return the miracle truck.

Long Day, Far From Over

Of course, nothing could be totally straightforward. First we had to drive the truck and trailer to the Norwalk DoubleTree in order to unhitch the trailer, this time without the aide of the Acura mechanics. Then we had to take the truck down to Stamford to return it to Enterprise. But first we had to transfer all the boat stuff, like the riggers, to Richard’s loaner Acura (which we’d left in Stamford). Fortunately, the good folks at the DoubleTree, who were also aware of our plight, offered to rope off a bunch of parking spots for us to put the trailer. Not only were they willing to do this, but it was their idea. We would have been screwed without that because their lot was completely full by the time we got back from Boston. Here’s how things looked the next morning:

That's the loaner Acura

Now we had all 6 of our boats. We still weren’t 100% sure when Steve at AAMCO would have our car done, but he indicated that he would be finished that afternoon or evening. That would be an incredibly short turn-around-time to rebuild a transmission and install a transmission cooler, but it turned out to be accurate (Acura, acurate? huh). Richard and I tied all our new stuff to the trailer and prepared it as best we could for the cross-country trip. We bid farewell to the folks at the DoubleTree and then to the folks at Devan Acura. At about 4:00 pm, roughly 48 hours after the beginning of this little side excursion, we left Norwalk in our own car.

This is Richard's Acura

Of course, it was the beginning of rush hour, and we were still among the big East Coast cities. Neither Richard nor I would breath a sigh of relief until we were at least into Western Pennsylvania. One bit of excitement was the driver-side windshield wiper that kept snapping out of the arm. Imagine driving at night on a busy interstate in the rain, and the windshield wiper stops working. And it’s not like you can make any sudden movements with a boat trailer attached. Later in the night, we were made aware that we had no taillights, neither on the trailer nor the car. We replaced the fuse as soon as we could.

We drove through the night. The further West we moved, the colder it got. By the next day, we were moving through the middle states of Ohio, Indiana and Illinois again. We felt freer and less claustrophobic. There were fewer cars on the road, and we made fairly good time. But we had to drive much slower than when we came out, and the weather was getting worse and worse.

Acura, Trailer, Ice

As evening fell, and it started to get dark, the roads were getting slippery. The snow was falling harder. Richard made the executive decision to stop for the night, so we pulled into a Holiday Inn Express in Northwood Iowa. Within minutes of pulling into the parking lot, one car hit another and knocked it into a ditch. This happened right in front of us, so it was probably a good idea to stop for the night. Logic aside, I still wanted to get home and see my family again. My son would be having his birthday in a few days, and I didn't want to miss it.

Before you ask, we did analyze our route home several times. We thought about getting on to I-84 West and going to Portland and then north to Seattle from there. Every option we considered had its own challenges, and we elected to stay on I-90. From Northwood, we headed north and got to Luverne Minnesota. At a gas station there, the young lady behind the counter informed me that Luverne was 30 minutes from everywhere – 30 minutes from Iowa and 30 minutes from South Dakota. Alright. That was just fine for us.

Not a Good Time for Drifting

The highway changed from mostly clear to somewhat slippery, but the worst weather was the wind. We had big, light boat shells behind us that acted like sails. The worst wind would be in Montana, but moving across South Dakota definitely had its terrifying moments. We saw lots of cars in the median and even a semi-trailer on its side. We also saw billboards, lots and lots of billboards.

Billboards Across South Dakota

For 300 miles from Sioux City to Wall, there are countless signs for Wall Drug. This stretch of highway is famous for that, but there are more signs than just those for Wall Drug. Among others, there are signs for the Corn Palace in Mitchell and Firehouse Brewing Co. in Rapid City, the latter of which all feature real fire engines. It got so we were disappointed when we’d pass one of these landmarks because there wouldn’t be any more signs for it. They definitely kept us entertained as we moved across the state.

Although we were tempted to visit Wall Drug, we only got to within 4 blocks. Our desire to get home superseded our curiosity about this mecca of Americana. From South Dakota, we drove into the northeast corner of Wyoming at just about sunset.

Sunset Over a Refinery

Once again the weather was getting worse as it got dark, so once again we stopped for the night. This time it was at a Hampton Inn & Suites in Buffalo, Wyoming. The next morning we were up before dawn and into the great (great BIG) state of Montana. We had to be careful of driving conditions at all times.

One of Countless Unplanned Parking Jobs

Montana was beautiful, even if it was covered with snow. It was beautiful, but it got a little tedious after awhile. We passed mile after mile of snow-covered hills and pastures and farms. Mile. After. Mile.

Mile After Mile

It was George Harrison’s birthday weekend, so The Beatles station was playing mainly George Harrison songs, which both Richard and I got a little sick of. His voice sounds a bit nasally after awhile. Mile after mile we drove across Montana, which looked a lot like South Dakota, at least along I-90, except there were no entertaining road signs. What we did have was the Clark Fork of the Columbia River, which runs along the interstate most of the way across the state.

Clark Fork

When we stopped for gas in Livingston, Montana, we noticed two things. One was that it was really cold outside, especially with the wind. The other thing we discovered was that one of our boats had become dangerously loose and on its way to flying off the trailer. We bought the store’s last roll of electrician’s tape, which works well to reinforce the straps that hold the boats on. It’s just that you can’t tighten the straps or apply tape with gloves on.

That's Richard up there, living the life in Livingston

After getting that sorted out, we got back on the road and continued across the seemingly endless state of Montana. Eventually we crossed into Idaho at Lookout Pass, but by then it was getting dark again.

Montana Turns Into Idaho

We had some planning to do since we wanted to tackle the Snoqualmie Pass in daylight. We decided to stop for the night at a Holiday Inn in Spokane, Washington.

Of all the states we visited, Washington was the only one that put the Welcome sign in the median instead of the right shoulder

Richard delivered the bad news to me the next day, as I was eating my 100th hotel waffle – the pass was getting several feet of new snow, and winds were dangerously high. He wouldn’t risk driving through the pass that day, even though we were so close to our destination.

We’d been on the road for 9 days at this point, and this is where Richard and I parted company. After some discussion, we decided together that I would fly home from Spokane while he drove the rest of the way the following day. I felt a little bad about leaving him alone, but there were only a few hours of driving left, and I really wanted to see my family again.

Leaving the Road for the Skies

The next day I heard from Richard early in the afternoon. He had made it to the Vashon Island ferry after what he described as the easiest driving of the previous five days. So that worked out fine.

After a fairly grueling ordeal, we’d made it back home with six new boats for our fledgling rowing club. The Burton Beach Rowing Club would be rowing its own boats for its first regatta.

Some of the rowers for whom we did all this

Two months later, at the Brentwood Regatta in Victoria BC and rowing some of the boats obtained on this trip, athletes from the Burton Beach Rowing Club won three gold medals.

Epilogue

By the summer of that same year, our club had one season of rowing completed. Our regatta was a success, and we competed in several others. We rowed mainly those boats we'd obtained on that fateful journey across the country but still kept a couple loaners on-hand for singles.

On July 7th, I was at the hospital with my wife as we awaited the imminent arrival of our newest family member. It was in the delivery room where I first started getting text messages and then phone calls about something going wrong at our boat house (which, you'll recall, was just a large tent that's normally used for wedding receptions).

An enormous madrona tree had fallen on our boat tent and severely damaged or outright destroyed all of our boats.

The tent itself was destroyed (those things aren't cheap), as well as our hand-made boat racks. Even the loaner boats we still had from another club were damaged. Only a single boat survived unscathed, the one that happened to be named after our daughter, the Claire Margaret.

After everything we'd been through to organize the club, raise funds, get boats, train, and compete, it was difficult to not get a little down at this point. Fortunately no one was hurt when the tree came down, and most of the boats were insured.

Epilogue 2

Our good friends down at Lake Vancouver were able to repair some of the boats. A couple rowers Franekstein-ed another boat together that could be used for training. Parents bought and assembled another boat tent and repaired the stands.

Through fund-raising and generous donations from parents and the community, the club purchased a brand-new Hudson quad.

The club continues.

Created By
Steve Tosterud
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