Back in the Saddle Again

Article by Jonathan Lewis

It had been over three years since my Alden Quest rowing shell hit the water, but my personal hull shape (I’ve added a few unwanted pounds amidships), necessitated splashing the craft for much needed exercise. Her last foray was in Silverwood Lake, high in the San Bernardino mountain range of Southern California. I used to try and row at least three times a week which developed my stamina and the caloric consumption allowed me my martini cocktail-hour free from guilt. My routine was curtailed for various reasons, but my recent relocation to the opposite coast and a short path to Saint George Creek and the Saint Mary’s River has inspired and required a resumption of this healthy activity.

I’d purchased the Alden Quest new almost two decades ago while living on Narragansett Bay in Rhode Island. It’s been out of production for half that time. I was able to contribute a bit to her construction specifications, such as a modified sliding seat rowing rig and a custom high-visibility deck color, which I hoped would prevent me from being rundown on the Providence River. Her 16-foot length and approximately 40-pound weight made for a relatively easy launch once I learned that shells are extremely tender. I chose “deltoid” blades for my carbon fiber sculls (oars) rather than hatchet or spoon shapes to facilitate their use in small chop. The basically self-bailing design of the hull allows the boat to be used in small waves and greatly expanded my weather windows. While flat water is preferred, it certainly isn’t required. I was fortunate to have an elderly neighbor who had coached crew at various colleges and he critiqued my early attempts, which dramatically improved my form. When I moved to Los Angeles I shipped the Quest, thinking that a year-round season on the Pacific or its tributaries lie in store. I hadn’t considered that the horrific traffic patterns in the City of Angels would prevent the two of us from easy access to a workout schedule. It wasn’t until a mountain retreat in Southern California’s Transverse Range was added to our holdings that XPDNC (the moniker I chose for my conveyance) began to get use.

Fast forward to March, 2025—after a roof-rack transit and the long awaited arrival of the signs of spring in the Mid-Atlantic region, the shell and I are finally being put through our paces. I’m approaching this with some caution as I near my 69th birthday. I’m reminded that the Kentucky Kid, Nickey Hayden, the sadly deceased world-class motorcycle champion, chose 69 as his racing number because his dad said it read the same even upside down.

It may take awhile to get back in the groove and row with confidence. My abilities may have diminished, but that doesn’t lessen my enjoyment of the quiet ride as I slip along the surface. The metronome of my stroke is accompanied by an occasional osprey crying out words of encouragement. I get to reap the rewards of exercise without even realizing the effort or exertion required. A shaken, not stirred beverage is in the offing. •SCA•