Through the Rain and the Night

Racers recount 340-mile, Missouri-crossing odyssey

With water flowing fast and pushing flood levels all summer, Missouri American Water MR 340 organizer Scott Mansker was doubtful that this year’s 340-mile heartland odyssey from Kansas City to St. Louis could even happen. The planned start date in July was out, with the Army Corps of Engineers breaking levies to reduce the river level, though Mansker created the first 100-mile Kawnivore race down the Kansas River later that month to keep the race’s fanatical competitors paddling. But the MR 340 faithful still pushed Mansker to reschedule their beloved race for later in the year. August and most of September passed with the Missouri still raging, but in the final week of September, the waters subsided enough to make racing safe again.

On October 11, 105 boats lined up like a makeshift military flotilla along the now-calm river in Kansas City, Mo. It was unusual for returning competitors to start off in more temperate, 65-degree conditions; temperatures for the MR 340 typically soar into the 90s and often break triple digits. However, the weather soon turned.

“We had an incredible storm Wednesday night with hail and heavy rain that knocked many paddlers out of the race,” Mansker said.

Thankfully, the ever-fickle Midwest skies soon cleared.

“After the storm, we had incredible weather with a nice tailwind,” Mansker continued. “The moon rose exactly as the sun went down and made night-paddling easy. Most paddlers were prepared for the cold and the extra four hours of darkness.”

In the men’s solo, last year’s mixed tandem winner West Hansen (who, with David Kelly, completed the 2010 event in a course record) was the pre-race favorite, but dropped out early. Matt Dressler took the early lead, with Glenn Phaup, a third-year MR 340 entrant and resident of Ashland, Mo., in pursuit. Phaup caught Dressler at Jefferson City, but as the two were side by side, he realized that something was wrong. “Matt was really sick, and wasn’t paddling as he normally would,” Phaup said. “I got out the boat for about half an hour to make sure he was OK before I started racing again.”

Despite taking time out, Phaup was still in the lead. However, his ground crew soon let him know that he wasn’t home free, and that with 115 miles still to go, his friend Joe Zellner was closing fast. “I know Joe’s a faster paddler than me, but I stuck to my game plan of keeping a steady pace rather than trying to sprint ahead,” Phaup said.

His tactics proved wise as he crossed the line first in 43 hours, 6 minutes, with Zellner coming home in 44:10.

Click here to read the rest of the story at Canoe & Kayak. 

STANDUP PADDLING THE WORLD’S LONGEST RIVER RACE

Competitors in Missouri’s MR 340 have a reputation for being a friendly bunch, but not all of them were welcoming when they heard the rumor that a standup paddler was going to attempt the world’s longest nonstop river race this year. Before the October 11 start date, that paddler, Shane Perrin, noticed a particularly disparaging comment on the MR 340 forum: “It’s interesting, to say the least, to see folks attracted to a craft that is less comfortable, less maneuverable and slower on purpose.”

Instead of being deterred by his fellow racers’ skepticism, 35-year-old Perrin used their barbs as fuel, and became determined to make his mark in this grueling endurance event.

Over the past year, SUP athletes have attempted increasingly long and difficult paddles. Perrin finished the inaugural Kawnivore 100 (held on the Kansas River, aka The Kaw) in just 23:58 and last month, Jan Brabant, 62, became the first SUP racer to finish the Adironack Canoe Classic. Further afield, SUP magazine contributor Shelby Stanger and her team just paddled the Peruvian Amazon.

Contrary to expectations, Perrin not only finished the MR 340, but also came 31st out of 116—beating many of the canoeists and kayakers who had doubted his prowess and choice of craft. I caught up with Perrin after the race to ask him about this experience and the growth of SUP river racing in the Midwest.

Click here to read the full Q&A with Shane on the Standup Paddler website

The Brixton Pound and Localism

In recent years, there has been a resurgence in localism in the foodie and environmentalist communities in the US, with farmers markets and specialty grocers the beneficiaries of those looking for locally-grown produce sold outside of Wal-Mart and its ilk, which typically favor the cheapest possible foreign fare. The trend makes sense for health reasons – not a shock that peaches from an orchard five miles away are more nutrient-dense and typically less pesticide-afflicted than those shipped from Central America – and for the local economy. Traders such as independent book stores and one-off coffee shops have also benefited from those who’d prefer to patron small businesses with whom they can build long-term relationships, rather than store #7680 of a huge multinational.

However, there is no doubt that “Main Street” as it’s often called here and “The High Street” in the UK has failed to halt the overall decline in number of stores and business volume that arguably began since the advent of the big box stores that accompanied the expansion of suburbia in the 1950s and 1960s.

To help turn the tide, some towns are introducing local currencies that encourage residents and merchants to spend their money with neighboring small businesses. In the US, these and other forms of financial exchange media that became known as “scrip” – including Larkin Merchandise Bonds and Caslow Recovery Certificates – were introduced during the Great Depression to alleviate the challenges caused by lack of cash flow. As many as 5,000 were in circulation by the mid-1930s. More recently, local currencies such as San Francisco’s Bernal Bucks, Great Barrington (Mass.)’sBerkshares and the Ithaca (NY) HOUR (also a payment system for labor there) have promoted local trading. These are typically introduced by groups of business owners and/or private citizens, and are not backed by city, state or federal government.

The latest area-specific currency in the UK is the Brixton Pound (B£) re-launched earlier this month after a more limited first issue in 2009.

Click here to read the full story at the blog of Boston University's The Historical Society

How Streaming Media Services Affect our Perception of “Owning” Music and Movies

Despite the company’s recent price increases, the decision to split its DVD delivery and streaming businesses and the lamentable choice to name the former “Qwikster” (as one friend commented, “It sounds like fast-drying spackling!”)*, I am an avid Netflix fan. And if the company can increase its still-inadequate library of on-demand content, this miser may eventually ditch his ancient, 500-pound behemoth of a TV and invest in one with Netflix streaming built in, or maybe just a Roku box. Right now, I occasionally watch a movie on my HTC Flyer tablet, which is a better viewing experience than an iPhone/iPod but still a little rinky dink for my liking.

So why does the ability to get movies without waiting for a DVD to arrive or, heaven forbid, leaving the house to patron the nearest Redbox, appeal? Because it’s quick, convenient, offers a (soon to be) wide choice and there’s a predictable, all-you-can-watch fee instead of an individual charge per disc. And if I sometime think that Amazon’s Instant Video has a better selection, maybe I’ll forsake Netflix.

So that’s the good, but what about the bad or potentially bad? How is the rise of streaming film and TV content affecting studios large and small, and the actors, producers, directors, crew members and others they employ? Were some of the same questions asked when other new technologies were rolled out? The television? The videotape machine?

Certainly, DVD and Blu-Ray sales are down. And movie prices continue to rise, much to my horror. $12 for a ticket? In the middle of Kansas? Really? I also loathe the gimmicky “cinema suites” that offer a crappy buffet and cheap beer if you’re willing to fork over $20 bucks or more per ticket, and possibly the shirt off your back, too. But how much of these price hikes and the luxury concept that seems to be borrowed from major league sports’ premium on suites and boxes is attributable to movie studios, and how much to the theater companies themselves? I admit that I don’t know.

What I do know is that the ability to stream movies and music on demand, on mobile devices as well as at home, is profoundly affecting how we think about owning this content. 

Click here to continue reading on the blog of The Historical Society


*A decision now thankfully abandoned

On the Record Player

I'm the proud owner of a Technics SL-1700 Direct Drive turntable, which should've been on my recent "Things I Use a Lot" list. Because it's quartz-driven, unlike those crappy cheapo belt-drives the hipsters buy at Urban Outfitters and are about as durable as a Yugo , it offers consistent rotation and, like its brother the 1200 (the industry standard for DJs) it is also beautiful. I don't sell these, honest!



Here's my summer playlist:

The Wedding Band - The First Dance EP

The lads from Mumford & Sons perform as part of a folk ensemble on this hard-to-find, four-song EP.



Frank Sinatra - Sinatra's Sinatra

Ol' Blue Eyes picks his favorites from his back catalog - my four-year-old son knows I've Got You Under My Skin from the first bar.



Mumford & Sons - Hold On To What You Believe (b-side to Winter Winds single)

Possibly their best song to date, and not on the platinum-selling album Sigh No More for some reason. These guys KILLED IT at Crossroads in KC this summer, playing alongside Cake and Matthew and the Atlas (the best band you've never heard of).



Johnny Cash

All manner of different records. Both my sons love "The Orange Blossom Special", while Nicole is digging "Jackson" (feat June Carter Cash)



The New Pornographers - Together

Not as controversial as the band name would suggest - in fact, just great power pop from A.C. Newman, Neko Case, Dan Bejar and co.

Surviving a Book Edit

The title of this blog post may have drawn more readers if it read “Surviving a Shark Attack” or “Surviving a Tsunami” but, though it may lack the same drama, I hope this particular musing will be more useful for the would-be book writer.

I have been working on my book (shameless plug alert!), Our Supreme Task: How Winston Churchill’s Iron Curtain Speech Defined the Cold War Alliance, since March 2009. From its genesis, it has gone through multiple metamorphoses, with entire chapters re-written and axed, new sources discovered and integrated, and days spent at the Churchill Archives Center, the National Churchill Museum,the Harry S. Truman Library and other archival treasure troves.

When I first settled on September 1 as my manuscript submission date, almost nine months ago, it seemed a lifetime away. After all, I’d already put hundreds or even thousands of hours into the project, had what I thought were five complete chapters (of 11) on my hard drive, and was rolling along with the remainder.

However, the deadline that once seemed so far off soon appeared right before my nose, like the knights caught unawares by Sir Lancelot in Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Liz Murphy, archivist at the National Churchill museum, came across a batch of pertinent Churchill letters just days before, and I was still hurrying to incorporate this new material. I was also hastily acquiring rights for photos from the Potsdam Conference and Churchill’s 1946 visit to the U.S., while trying to cut bloat from certain chapters. Arrggh! I thought I had this under control! How did it become this mad panic?

Anyway, I got the manuscript and images away a couple days early, and took a deep breath. Two weeks later, my editor mailed back a Yellow Pages-sized packet of paper, with red pen to indicate her first read comments and blue pen to show comments from the second pass (how is she so fast and efficient - I have no idea!). The first eight chapters were smooth sailing, but numbers nine and eleven were anything but – too much detail, too long, too everything other than ready to go to print. So I spent an entire day cutting away, and eventually, after four and a half days of hard work, sent back my response to her comments. In the midst of cutting almost 20,000 words, re-formatting a chapter and putting my pride to the sword, here’s what I learned:




Click here to read the full post on the blog of The Historical Society