Master Paddler
Slalom Veteran Makes His Way to the Olympic Games
By Ray McLain, McLain Travel AdventuresSo you're competing in the Olympics this year?" one of my buddies jibed. "A fast slalom run down the Ocoee River. We'll be cheering you on."
My thoughts went back 5 years. The scene was Minneapolis/St. Paul, and I was marching in the opening ceremonies beside my partner Don Sorenson. We were surrounded by thousands of athletes streaming into the stadium. The crowd roared, drowning the announcer. Our race, the closed two man canoe, lay ahead of us. We were basking in the glory of qualifying for the Olympic Festival slalom, eagerly anticipating a lightning run down the St. Croix River.
By the time those games ended, our bubble had been burst. We finished 7th out of 8 boats. But we had tasted some thrilling competition, and while we may not have taken the applause with medals around our necks, we at least had the satisfaction of knowing we had paddled rather than swam the full course.
Unfortunately, my chances of making the 1996 Olympic whitewater team were about as great as a retroactive first place from that St. Croix run. I've been racing slalom for about 20 years, but at age 57, I have a bit of trouble catching those 20 and 30 year olds. On the other hand, I am a Master,"masters-age" that is, and with all that experience, I figured I ought to be able to carve out some role that would get me to the Games.
Actually, my racing dreams go back quite a few years. In the late 70s, I started slalom paddling, after a decade racing marathon open canoe. A few years later, the Wausau course opened about 100 miles from my home in Green Bay, Wisconsin. The Mid America Slalom Series was getting underway, and with an urge to compete, I entered races for both solo and tandem canoes. C-2, closed two man canoe, became my best event and my partner Don and I got to be pretty good. Sure we were always chasing Ken Stone and John Sweet, the master-age leaders back in those days, but we did manage to get on the awards stand a time or two when that pair wasn't in the river.
. . .racers gaze down at the rollercoaster they must ride to reach their dreams of racing glory. . .
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My own races fueled my passion for whitewater. My work with the kids have kept that fire blazing. An aspiring Olympian cannot wait until his upper 30s, like me, to begin the sport. He or she has to start young, find some old equipment, maybe join a club, catch the eye of an inspiring coach. Then come local races and a climb into the regional and national ranks, where the standouts can qualify for serious training support. I was lucky. Some of "my kids" loved the sport as much as me, and when they earned a place on the Junior Slalom team headed for Norway, I tagged along as an Assistant Team Manager.So after following the ups and downs of securing a place for slalom in the 1996 Olympics -- and buying tee-shirts, writting letters and sending contributions -- I was ecstatic when official word came that the Ocoee River on the Georgia-Tennessee border had been selected as the whitewater venue. My friend Adam Clawson, #2 on the U.S. team, whom I had teamed with at the Whitewater Open Canoe National Championships when he was only 12, would get his chance at a medal! David Hearn, who had taught me a paddlling style that developed into a chronic shoulder injury, would be ahead of him in the #1 spot (thanks for the help David!). Donna Chladek and Cathy Hearn, with whom I paddled the Costa Rica rivers, would lead the women.
So what about me? I had lost too many C-2 races to Wayne Dickert and Horace Holden to have any visions of beating them out for the tandem slot. But I still had another trick up my sleeve that would get me to the Games!
The setting is the Autumn of 1995 along the banks of the Ocoee River. Athletes from around the world have gathered for a World Cup event. On river left a walkway runs along the bank. Racers and coaches are mixing with the media. Across the way, spectators line another platform. In between runs a rocky gully, a stream of boulders with a only a trickle of water flowing down, the few gallons that have escaped diversion to drive the turbines of a TVA power plant.
Upstream, officials of the Tennessee Valley Authority open the floodgates. The water rushes forward, the roar building to where communication becomes impossible. Within 5 minutes, the ravine is transformed into a turbulent mass of whitewater. The racers gaze down at the rollercoaster they must ride to reach their dreams of racing glory. And I stand watching from my assigned position, ready to monitor each paddler's path down the writhing stream!
This race is an early trial on my own path to the Olympic Games. I am one of about 100 aspiring officials, hoping to earn a judging spot. The starter is one position for which I am qualified. But I consider it undesirable for the starting line yields no view as the race is unfolding. A section judge is much more to my liking, where I will be responsible for one of 8 series of gates. Or perhaps a gatekeeper, where a section judge will assign me a vantage from which I can watch the race and ensure each paddler passes cleanly inside the stick.I passed that early test, a dry-run of the Olympics, and have gone on to officiate at the Final Olympic Qualifier and the US Team Trials during the spring. Like most of those who wanted to officiate, I was invited back to the Olympics and am ready to take my place watching the gates.
With a little luck, I may be stationed by Humongous, an early set of rapids that promises enough nasty eddies and surf to warrant its naming after that evil"Mad Max" villain. A spot beside Slam Dunk would provide a great show, maybe of my "rivals" Wayne and Horace paddling furiously to avoid seeing riverbottom in this powerful hydraulic!
Only a few weeks to go and I am dreaming of an exciting race. My visions no longer picture me paddling furiously to a driving finish, but they are no less dramatic. Perhaps it will be Donna Chladek, whose parents immigrated from Czechoslovakia, going head-to head with one of the Czech Republic's great kayakers. For the Czechs have focused tremedous energy on perfecting their paddling, a sport that has become a national pasttime. Or possibly a dominant performance by one of the great paddlers from Germany or France. Or just as likely a come-from-behind victory for one of a half dozen other countries sending medal contenders to the Ocoee.For a journeyman paddler like myself, the Games will be the thrill of a lifetime!
Ray McLain is a masters age group slalom paddler, coach of junior and cadet slalom and wildwatter paddlers, ICF official, and ACA Instructor. In his spare time, he leads paddlers to the rivers of Costa Rica for McLain Travel Adventures.
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