So we carried our boat down to the dock, locked the oars and climbed in.
GEEZ! This boat was HUGE! Definitely built for heavy-weight men. My feet wouldn't stay in the shoes because they were made for Sasquatch and I was rigged so high, I had to force my shoulders down the entire way, yet compensate to keep my oar fully emerged in the water. Plus my calves hit the ledge below the seat each time I got to the finish, so I had a MASSIVE bruise in a perfect straight line across my right calf at the end of the row.
Anywho, the row in and of itself was fine, once I got used to the boat. As we made our way downstream, I was totally in a trance until we glided by the Northeastern boathouse. I hadn't been past there in a boat since '99. I immediately choked up, of course, so I had to regain my focus.
On the way back up we were doing a power 20, all-out at a rate 32 when suddenly two women in the boat start shouting "Waynuff! Waynuff! Check it down all 8!!"
So we do and as we're stopping, I see oars 6 and stroke are tangled in a fishing line. With each stroke a red and white floaty-thing and a poor fish would go up and down.
We stopped and the two girls tried to untangle their oars. We were about 75 feet away from a wooden deck where people were fishing. Some jackass cast his line clear across the river, so of course we got caught in it. He stood at the end of wooden bridge, trying to reel in his line. Idiot.
Finally we freed the line, but not the poor fish, which quickly zipped across the river as the potbellied fisherman reeled it in. Stroke seat yelled out, "You got one!"
"Actually, he got 9!" I corrected her. Everyone laughed.
So here I sit, sore and exhausted. With the exception of the stupid Open House, this was an awesome day.
But GEEZ... it's so lonely without my monsters and Sarah. :-(