Race Recap: Bay Bridge Paddle 2019

Saturday’s Bay Bridge Paddle was one for the records. Despite calm appearances in the morning, the Chesapeake was raging - ripping tides, gusting wind, and unpredictable chop. Whether you took one look at the Bay and decided to switch course lengths, knew within the first twenty strokes that you were going to paddle this course on your knees, decided to turn back, or got pulled off the course by a safety boat, kudos to everyone who charged off the beach at the siren. That took big kahones.

We have a lot of thoughts and feelings about how people showed up and presented themselves at this race. We know many of you have a lot of opinions, too, and we’d love to hear them. Let’s just say, we think our community could have showed its better, true side. Since that’s so rare, we’re choosing to make some charitable assumptions, mainly that we were all just trying to make it to the finish line.

Here’s our recap of how we managed to make it ourselves.

Meredith’s Race

For me, the first five minutes of a race are some of the most challenging. I curse the life choices I’ve made that led me to this point… until I settle into a groove, my mind and body relax into a rhythm, and I remember again how much I love being out on the water with hundreds of other like-minded people. Those first five minutes are tough enough, but Saturday’s conditions heightened all of those icky feelings - for a much longer period of time. But at some point, I had to give in to the unpredictable, patternless chop and wind. After all, everyone else was experiencing the same conditions. I wasn’t the only one feeling frustrated and unhappy. Letting that sink in was a game changer. It allowed me to put my focus on strategy and how to be more efficient so I could get off the water faster. I made a few important decisions based on the wind, current, and course that, without any doubt in my mind, led to my strong, successful finish.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention this next part, though, because I think it gives us a chance to reflect and grow. If the conditions were a surprise, then the vibe on the race course was even more of one. I was disappointed that more people weren’t checking in on fellow racers when they fell in the water and that more people weren’t forthcoming about paddling the course on their knees for more than five strokes. To be clear, I have the utmost respect for anyone who finished the course standing or sitting. I have teammates who completed the race having paddled on their knees, but when they crossed that finish line they were quick to let the timers know. Being honest with yourself is the truest way to be a real sportsman. And paying attention to other paddlers in distress, whether urgent or not? It’s just the right thing to do.

Scott’s Race

My strategy went out the door as soon as I stood up on my board. My beach start was probably the only thing that went as planned. My advice to all of my teammates was “stay on your board” because of how exhausting it is to keep climbing back on. I bet I had as many braces as I had strokes in this race. My normal sore forearms and traps were nonexistent. Every other muscle was wrecked, and for the first time, my knees were sore.

Unlike a lot of paddlers ahead of me, I took a straight line from the lighthouse to the first buoy and was rewarded with more than a couple of bump rides, one of which had me hooting and hollering. That feeling soon faded as soon as I turned at the buoy and headed into the bridge spans. For the next 3+ miles I watched a couple of things unfold.

The first and most noticeable - every single paddler ahead of me was fighting wind and the current to stay within the bridge spans. I saw more than one person get pushed outside of the course and fight with all their might to paddle back in. I instinctively took a more direct heading to take advantage of the eddies. It worked.

The second and more demoralizing thing I saw was a slew of racers ahead of me paddling on their knees and pulling ahead. By the time I got to the turnaround buoy I had climbed back on my board more than a dozen times, and still had the other half of the race ahead. I knew I was unlikely to catch anyone paddling on their knees, so my only goal at that point was to finish my race standing, per WPA rules. That and making it to small milestones, going buttress to buttress, until I could turn into the wind, which is my bread and butter.

It took me three hours to get from start to finish, but the most rewarding thing to hear afterward was one of the most seasoned Bay paddlers tell me “I don’t know how you did that standing on a 12’6 Speedboard, kudos.”

We know this race was challenging on so many different levels. Everyone should walk away feeling successful and empowered. We hope this race was a reminder that fellowship sits at the root of our SUP community. Check in with one another. Be honest with one another. Support one another on and off the race course. Huge shout-out to ABC Events, Shendan Grove, the whole Grove family, volunteers, and all of the local agencies who planned, executed, and came together to make this a safe race.

If you have any reflections from the race we’d love to hear them. Comment below.

Now, who’s ready for a flatwater race? See you at Goat Island!