We push off the dock. Somehow I have to figure out how to steer the boat with my foot and row at the same time and become an expert at it before we reach the start of the race. It's a bit wobbly at first. I look over my shoulder on the recovry, but that causes my hands to drop and the boat to lean to one side. Steering is the exact opposite of how Anne descirbed it. If I point my foot left, then the boat goes left. It takes me a few minutes to get used to that. Abby keeps shouting back to me to stay away from the edge of the river because of sunken trees. We're doing pretty well and it looks like a straight strech for a bit. Look over my shoulder one more time and realize that a dock is 10 meters away and we're approaching it fast. I yell to wayen off and hold water. 4 meters from the dock we come to a rest. It's a close call, but no damage done. I'm still learning how to row and steer at the same time. A while later we have to stop one more time when I almost steer us into the shore, but I'm making progress.

Eventually we make it up to start. A wave of nervousness hits me as I look at the other crews. It's a mix of high school, college, and club crews and I'm sure that everyone else has much more experiance. No longer am I thinking about winning or placing, now I just want to be able to finish the race without hitting anything or going off the course.

We start off strong. I'm suprised at the stroke rate. It's a lot higher than it was rowing up, but I adjust. I've started to get the hang of looking over my shoulder, steering, and rowing at the same time. The first turn goes pretty well. There's a boat in front of us that looks like we'll be able to pass it. The next turn comes and we creep up on it even more. In the straightaway we pull ahead. I see it's number 455. We're 458. There's a turn about 500 meters ahead and I try and cut across the river in order to get the tightest turn possible, but my calculations are off and I cut too far. We lose precious ground and time. Ana catches a crab and the boat we just passed rows on by us as we stop so she can get her oar back to normal.

We start rowing again and soon are even with 455 again. They yell at us to give way, but we're pulling ahead of them and they also have plenty of room. Behind us I see two boats collide oars and don't feel as bad about 455.

The next turn isn't as close as I want and I'm afraid we lost ground on it until I see another turn ahead and realize that if I'd cut the last turn tighter, then we'd be in a bad position for the next turn. As it is we're in a pretty good position. Things are going fairly well. The set and power are better than I expected.

400 meters from the finish my hands suddenly feel like they are on fire. It's the searing pain I recognize as raw skin rubbing against my oar handle. My body screams for me to let go of the oar, but I push on. The finish is just ahead.

I yell 10 more strokes and start to count them off, but it only takes 6 before we cross the finish line. I look down at my hands and find them stained black from the oar and see a piece of skin hanging off my finger where a blister formed and popped. Underneath it's red and raw. I have 3 other new blisters that are still intact. Gripping the oar lightly we row to the docks and collapse. It's all over.

When the results come back we find that we got 3rd place out of 16. Not bad for a boat with three of the rowers who have never raced in a quad, and one rower who has not only not raced in a quad for a year, but also never steered one. I was very happy.