FAST TIMES AT LARC

It has been a heavy medal year for the men.

Our club is blazing. We have many crews, men and women, rowing sweep boats and sculls, racing their heads off.  

Let’s take our racing men, for instance. Back in April, LARC’s Matt Schaeffer—who, by the way, learned to scull at UCLA, then got thrown in a sweep boat two years ago at LARC—rowed with doubles partner Nick Babikian in the Olympic Trials in Sarasota, Florida.  The duo took third place in the finals, but to them it was a total win. “Our biggest goal was to make the finals,” Schaeffer says, “so gold for us was simply winning the repechage and beating CRI (Community Rowing) which put us in the finals. Being in the finals was just so cool, surrounded by people who would be going on to the Olympics.”  The top finishers of each event went on to Rio; Schaeffer set his sights on the Head of the Charles (HOCR), but didn’t get a bid this year. Babikian scored a gig at Goldman Sachs that took him to Houston. “He moved, we sold our double, and he’s gone!” Schaeffer says. “He is a great training partner.” The pair were putting in double-, sometimes triple-day workouts, on the water together in both singles and the double. “We really pushed each other.” Next up for Matt, fall head races and the Long Beach Christmas Regatta.  

Dave Frick is a retired database programmer for [Move Inc., the company that develops and manages the Realtor.com website for ] the National Association of Realtors, where he managed all the listings; as a former member of the Army Reserves, he retired at 60. Now 62, he’s got three children and five grandchildren. And is enjoying every minute of his time. 

He races all year long, this year starting with the Christmas Regatta [and indoor Beach Sprints in Long Beach,  nope, I was sick this year and missed it] then the San Diego Crew Classic where he, Mark May and Steve Krum all raced with [UC  the University of San Diego] Alumni boat—and won [the Founder’s Cup] for the second time.  “It was the best race of my life,“ Frick says.  “We were in the lead, then Marin took it over, and we kept our cool. Our cox called for us to bring it up and we took back the lead, but by just that much! It’s the race I replay in my mind many times before I go to sleep.”

And Frick has been racing in doubles and singles events with Mike McKay: “We raced in the Summer Solstice in Long Beach and we each got gold in our single events (different age categories), and third in our doubles race. Then we did the Gold Rush (Lake Natoma, Sacramento State Aquatic Center) in doubles and singles, where we placed second in our double and Mike [and I each got gold in our respective singles races got gold in the single].”  The pair went to Mike’s hometown of Wyandotte, Michigan (south of Detroit) for a big race there [where they both won gold again in their single races], then on to the Masters’ Nationals in Worchester, Massachusetts in July, where they got bronze in the straight four (rowed with Wyandotte guys) and Frick got a bronze in his single, and McKay a silver in his.  

Next for Frick is the Head of the Charles, where he will race [with Mark May] in the [UCSD USD] Alumni 8+ on Saturday and a quad in the Director’s Challenge on Sunday.  “I just want to do this for as long as I can,” he says. “Before the back or something else goes. I love that I was doing this at age 22, and still am. I love the single, especially, because you can do your own thing, and I enjoy the solitude, watching the sun come up all on my own.  I feel very lucky.”  

You could say the same about strength trainer Mike McKay, who also trains veterans in the volunteer “Heroes Movement” he created.  He and Dave Frick did many doubles and singles events together, but a memorable moment of this year might have been the Gold Rush Regatta, where McKay raced against women’s Olympic Silver medalist Gevvie Stone.  He was of course routing for her during the turbulent singles quarterfinals in Rio: “I was very nervous.” [Peg: please check w/Mike on this. I don’t think it was Stone, I think it was the Brazilian Olympic sculler]

Mike got lots of medals this year, although he says he was better prepared last year: “Rowing is all about putting in your time. But it’s all good.” He got silver at Summer Solstice, Southwest Regionals and Masters Nationals in his single, but the highlight for this year, he says: “Winning the quad at Masters’ Nationals (in July). Everything just clicked in that race. It was a great race.”

McKay has been rowing since 1991; he learned at Wyandotte Boat Club and at Mount Carmel in 7th grade.  Usually when training for a race he puts in 10 workouts a week (“That’s when you win races!”); this year he had an overuse back injury, so cut back to three to four times a week.  When asked what he loves about rowing, McKay is frank: “I don’t really like practicing, except as a means to an end. I like to race,” he says. “I like getting to the line, blasting off and I love the dog fight at the end. The start and the finish lines. The bodies.  I love sprints the best.”

Will he be racing the head of the Charles?  “I’d rather sit in traffic than do a head race.”

Call to Action: I know there are lots of fast women and men in our club, including Ryan Schroeder who rowed with University of Washington varsity men and got a gold in World Championships! As you send me your results, I’ll write them up!  Email me at: [email protected] .

The When & If Does It

On the morning of Saturday, July 16, longtime LARC member Bayard Storey, 56, and his brother John, 54, waited in the lovely, and for the moment, calm waters off the coast of Gloucester, MA, to start the Blackburn Challenge, a 21-mile open water race around Cape Ann.

Their boat: The When & If, a sliding seat open water touring boat Bayard built, shares the name of a famous Alden schooner General George Patton had commissioned. Patton died before his schooner was finished. Luckily, Bayard did not; but chose the name “because people kept asking me if I’d ever finish it.”

“I love rowing in the Marina,” Storey says, “but constantly going in circles gets dizzying. So, I wanted to go out into the [Santa Monica] Bay.” He first set out to buy an ocean-ready rowing boat from a guy in Santa Barbara but he wouldn’t sell it. "He told me I should, and could, build my own. So, like an idiot, I did. I started by watching YouTube videos," says Storey, four years later it was being finished in my driveway."

The completed boat “turned out to be not as fast I had hoped.” So Bayard made plans to race with a canoe builder from Big Bear who was building, what hoped to be, a faster one, “kind of a sports car to my station wagon." It turned out that the sports car to his station wagon would not be ready in time, so Bayard was stuck with the When and If. “The benefit of the When & If is that it could make it through a small hurricane," and during the previous years’ Blackburn Challenge, there were plenty of those.

Bayard and John teamed up for the When and If's maiden race. John Storey is an ultra-marathoner who runs 100+ mile races. John also lived across country in Tennessee, so the boat hitched a ride from Orange County to Club Nationals in Ohio, and drove with Bayard and John up to Gloucester, MA . "Just getting the boat to the race (and back!) was an unbelievable logistical challenge.”

The brothers understood the Blackburn Challenge was not going to be a big event in their boat category. While a total of about 300 boats, including men’s and women’s kayaks, single and double outrigger canoes as well as other sliding seat boats were in the contest, only three boats were touring doubles like theirs. Still, there were serious challengers, "our main competitors were two strong guys in a $14,000 boat who had won the past two years."

Once the race was on, the Storey bothers blew past the previous winners at the 2-mile mark and went on to beat them by a full 33 minutes! Their total time was an incredible 3:00:56. “We were shocked by how fast we went, especially given the boat and the heavy chop we had the last 25 minutes...We had to use the bailer a lot coming into the harbor,” Bayard recalls. As to the brother's performance, “while I had the most strength between the two of us, John...brought his endurance. We were a good match.”

As satisfying as it was to win their category, the siblings were surprised to find they even beat a Leo Coastal single representing the US at the Coastal Worlds.

​Storey is casual about his multi-year journey to this extraordinary win, but does mention the free massage he needed at the end of the grueling 21 mile contest. “It was a tough race, but I’d do it again. The town is beautiful, so for me, it was a vacation with a side of racing.”

For complete details of the race, go to blackburnchallenge.com.

Hello Everyone, I can't tell you how proud I am to see this club flourishing. It's so satisfying to see this!! Great job everyone! Great web site & photos too. It was difficult times back then when Steve Moe and I were dealing with TRW, Zenon Barbrai who replaced Jim Simms as head coach at UCLA, and the collapse of the South Coast Corinthian YC once we were kicked out of UCLA's boat house by Zenon. I would have never have imagined the Basin D beach would be become a home but really glad it worked out. Anita DeFrance and Jim Simms really were the gate keepers that allowed the club to happen. Steve and I were in the right place at the right time. We simply wanted to row again and there was no opportunity other than Long Beach & that was too far away. It was a desperate move to store the Coffey 8 on the sand, I remember hand sewing rigger covers to protect the oar locks. I still cherish my Crew Classic poster of the club 8 start in 87 and 88. We had some really good rowers but just didn't practice enough, always kept getting 4th. Keep up the great work. I'm back to struggling again with another start up, the Whiskeytown RC in Redding, CA - been working on it for 10 years. Just felt compelled to say HI and if anyone comes to the extreme North I have a double and single for use - plus the club as a decent 4.

​Reese (TRW RC president 1985-1988)

Here is Reese describing the photos above:

I’m stroking the 87 boat, and Chuck Pappish is in 7 seat.  He was a national team oarsman from Yale, and was the best rower I’ve ever known or probably ever will.  All the others rowed in college too, that was great about TRW – with some 30,000 professionals working in Space Park, there were tons of experienced rowers that came out of the woodwork when they heard about the rowing.  It was really windy in 87 and we swamped on the way to the starting line & had to pull over and dump out the boat.  The 87 boat was all TRW employees.  The 88 boat was faster with some real powerhouses, 6 of 8 were TRW employees.  I don’t remember strokes (Claud’s) last name but remember he was really good and he and his buddy rowed a pair everyday out of the UCLA boathouse.  Chuck and I would eventually beat them at their own game at race in La Bollona Creek, and that is a really sweet memory.   At the start of the 88 race the UCLA JV 2nd boat started drifting over into our lane and we all remember Chuck turning his head and yelling at the top of his lungs to “MOVE OVER” and that startled everyone in both boats. We had experienced UCLA coxswains, that was nice.  I’ll never forget that yell, how he had the wind to do that.  I’ll also never forget how my feet slipped out of my shoes near the end of the race and we dropped from 3rd to 4th in the last 20, still haunts and motivates me today.  That’s what happens when you never practice a full-paced 2000.  It was never fair at the regattas, we had to compete against at least 2nd JV boats. There weren’t any “clubs.” We never were coached.  We rowed pretty darn good for no coaching & we all had a blast.  I remember hauling stuff to Sacramento, USC, and Long Beach.  I’m sure there are similar stories LARC crews have experienced over the years.

           Hi, my name is Brandi and I am who LARC club members affectionately call an "LTR". This means I am a part of the latest Learn to Row class. The LTR label tells them all they need to know about me in two seconds: "This is Brandi and she's an LTR" means she often catches crabs, she just learned the terminology, and she can't set a boat to save her life...improvements forthcoming. They're right by the way, but what can you expect? It took me 15 years to finally put my butt in a boat! 

           I was first exposed to the idea of rowing when I found out my college had a team. This was surprising since I went to school in Louisiana. I wanted to join but, at the time, my priorities did not line up with the practice schedule. Hey, no judging, 4am is a hard pill to swallow at age 19. So I let the opportunity pass me by and told myself there would be time later. Fast forward to "later", 15 years have passed and I live in California. I'm coming off a serious injury that makes conventional workouts hard and "relaxing" workouts like yoga impossible, and my husband says, "What about rowing?" So, I do my research and find out that there is only one option available that fits my schedule, my budget, and my novice shyness, The Los Angeles Rowing Club LTR class. The LTR class lasts a full weekend, so you can really determine if rowing is a fit, the price is right… "Why the hell not?" I sign up.

            The weekend starts with doughnuts, always a good sign, and the usual, "Hi, I'm so-and-so and you are?…" After that they split us up, one group to the safety briefing and one group to the ergonomic machines. The safety briefing is hilarious, we all find out the numerous ways we couldn't have imagined hurting ourselves and hear classic veteran stories about minor injuries and various humiliations. The stories relax us newbies. Now we know that we definitely won't be the first rowers to make idiots out of ourselves if we screw up. The vets talk to us like we're all at a barbecue and it makes us feel like we're already part of the club. Our turn on the ergonomic machines lets us know this isn't going to be a cake walk. It's a sport, a damn physical one, but we wouldn't be here if we were looking for "easy." The coaches correct everything from our posture, "Backs straight, like a table!", to our butt position on the seat, "Tooshy out, like a dancer on a pole." Say what now?!? Then, suddenly, we're in a boat struggling to put it all together. I find out I don't know anything about rowing! It's 70% legs, 20% core, only 10% arms, and a 60 foot boat is really freaking heavy even with 7 other people helping carry it. We drill and we drill, and the rest of the weekend passes quickly. I go home every night exhausted in the blissful way I haven't felt since I was a teenager and I'm pretty sure I can do this, like, really do this... 
     
            My first early morning row after the weekend solidifies the deal. We practice setting the boat, lightly bobbing in the marina as the sun comes up on my right, and I wonder, "When was the last time I saw the sun rise?" The sound of the oars in the oar locks and the swoosh of the water is meditative. Everything else drains away except my new muscle memories. The camaraderie we feel builds as we all give each other tips and encouragement, surrounded by the beauty that brought us to California. Then, I realize, I've hit the jackpot! A workout that challenges both my mind and body, with a slice of belonging on the side, I'm doing it, I'm a rower. 

              Whether you're looking for a challenging workout a few times a week, or communing with your competitive nature and hoping to race one day, LARC's LTR program is the place. You wouldn't be searching this website if the water and the oars weren't already calling you. Join us for the next class, because "later" can be an awfully long time.

My crew 'practicing'--

Los Angeles at 4am has come to feel like home.

The pre-dawn city feels like some kind of slow motion post-apocalyptic dream.  I pass a handful of illuminated 24-hour diners and taco stands on the way to the marina, maybe another car or two, a late night bus idling at a corner.  Streetlights silhouette palm trees and low-slung buildings.  There’s often a fog gently smothering the light and noise that burns off by the time most folks have twice snoozed their alarm clock.

I share this early hour with convenience store clerks and crazies.  Most mornings I stop at the 7-eleven at the corner of Lincoln and Washington and chat with Ashraf behind the counter.  There are usually a few souls sleeping out front, perhaps having a smoke or drink to soften the hours until sunrise, hands outstretched from under grubby blankets if they notice me walk by.  Ashraf smiles at me as I brandish my coffee and glazed donut and shuffle back out in my sweats.

Friends call me crazy to be up this early.  I could probably convince a fly on the wall of my room that I’m a superhero, waking up in the middle of the night, dressing myself in spandex, and coming back a few hours later smelling like sweat and dirty water, hands bloody and sore.  

But I’m not a lone-wolf vigilante bent on cleaning up the streets of LA.  I’m fortunate to keep company with eight or nine other people each morning who are crazy like me.  

With a few sleepy mumbled greetings we wade knee deep into cold water, grab oars and steady ourselves as we step into the wobbly shell.  After a few strokes to find a point we shove away into the main channel, past the blue and yellow Tron-like outline of the Marina Del Rey Hotel, past the gas dock, and towards the breakwater.

Shoulders low, head in the boat.  Square up over the toes and lift the hands at the front end to find a lock and shove away with the legs.  Now we add some pressure, send the hands out of bow faster, until our hearts pound and our foreheads drip with sweat.

I learned to row and spent eight years practicing on the Connecticut River, four in high school in Western Massachusetts and four more about ninety miles north in Hanover, New Hampshire.  Then last August I followed my girlfriend to LA, a place where a trickle over algae-covered concrete somehow counts as a river.

I’ve spent most of my life in small-town New England, and Los Angeles in many ways couldn’t be further from home.  It’s about a 3,000 mile diagonal as the crow flies, and there are apartment buildings here that dwarf the population of my hometown.  The weather is always perfect even on the days you can’t see downtown, as predictable as six lanes of stopped cars on the Sepulveda Pass.

On the water there are palm trees instead of pines, seals instead of beavers, breakwaters instead of dams, and party yachts instead of the occasional canoe.  The marina never freezes solid, and there’s no perilous stretch in the early spring where dodging icebergs is the coxswains’ chief concern.  But for all that’s different, on the flat water of the marina I’ve found something familiar.      

The first month or so I was here I felt, to use an obvious nautical cliché, adrift.  My girlfriend was finishing up some classes at a program in London, and my friends from the east coast who had previously declared they were moving to LA decided not to do so.  I spent my spare hours trying to find ways to work out in Van Nuys without a gym membership, watching Netflix, and sitting alone in traffic.

Almost a year later I still spend quite a bit of time sitting alone in traffic, but through LARC I’ve found three things that have always come with rowing: improved fitness, calloused hands, and friends.  I have rowed with and coached an astounding number of people, all of whom have made Los Angeles, a thoroughly intimidating and difficult city for someone who isn’t from here, feel a lot more like home.     

The weekly practices added structure to what at first felt like an amorphous year.  The coffee breaks at Joni’s helped me get to know people better and combat some inevitable sleep deprivation with caffeine.  And the time I’ve spent with folks outside of the wild haired, bleary-eyed morning hours has made this sprawling megacity seem a lot smaller.

And now I’m off to Ann Arbor, Michigan, to start three years of law school.  I think there’s rowing over there, which I doubt I’ll have much time for my first year since I’ll be busy working on my library tan.  But when I (hopefully) come back for an internship next summer, I hope to see all of you crazy, wonderful people on Mother’s Beach.  Please forgive me in advance if I’m not in shape.  

Thanks for everything, and stay in touch!

This April, Matt and Nick represented LARC at the US Olympic trials in Sarasota, Florida. They competed in the Double Sculls event where they took 3rd place overall. Although they won't be going to Rio, they are still happy with the result. Best of luck to those representing the USA in the Olympic Games! Go LARC!

Our own Erica Swensson recorded a KCRW 'Sounds of LA' piece about 5am rowing in an big city environment.  Listen to it, if you haven't already, you'll recognize the feelings. Here is the link: http://kcrw.co/29dyrxA

Come and join us at Arsenal on July 9th at 5pm.
12012 West Pico Blvd, Los Angeles, CA 90064

LARC is invited to RowLA's Gala event! Support the cause of opening the doors to colleges for disadvantaged young women through rowing and the excitement of bringing fresh talent to our sport.  Below is a description by RowLA's president, Liz Greenberger, about two distinguished guests attending July 16th-- (We already know you, Hope :)