Wide Open Water:

But the attraction of open water rowing and open water distance racing extends beyond gear-head appeal, and, in some cases, even beyond the world of traditional sculling.

"One of the main reasons open water rowing is so popular is that races are open to all human-powered boats," Knakal muses. "We have rowing shells, kayaks, surfskis, outrigger canoes, pedal boats, and sometimes more unusual craft. Our races are mass starts, and everyone races everyone – this is a lot of fun, and sometimes the rowers are shocked to learn they aren't always the fastest thing on the water!"

"People seem to like the social dimension of open water rowing," agrees Chris Dadd. "At a regatta, people start and finish close to the same time and there's usually a picnic afterwards. Since people are mostly rowing singles (most open water boats are singles or doubles), there's a friendly atmosphere and a focus on learning at one's own pace that seems to appeal to people."

"Open water rowing also provides access to rowing for people at any age. [And] while people think of it as a purely recreational sport, there are many people who train very seriously for competition. It's also a great sport for people more interested in general fitness because the surroundings are beautiful, it's not necessary to meet the schedules of team practices, and it gives a complete non-impact workout – many of our club members are former runners in their forties looking for something not so hard on the knees."

Long distance rower Dr. Rainer Storb understands exactly what Dadd and Knakal are talking about. The head of the Transplantation Biology Division of the Clinical Research Division of Seattle's Fred Hutchinson Cancer Research Center Storb was an avid skier and mountain climber in his native Germany. He began windsurfing and sailboarding when he and his wife moved to Seattle in the late seventies, then turned to rowing when work constraints limited his time on the water.

Storb quickly fell in love with the sport, graduating rapidly from an aged open water boat to a "fancier" Alden shell "complete with heavy wooden oars." It was the beginning of a decades-long commitment to open water – an involvement that became competitive almost by accident.

Rowing past a small rowing club under Seattle's University Bridge on the way back from an evening workout, someone invited him to join the Sound Rower's Cross-Sound race the following morning. And in a decision that clearly foretold his aptitude for a sport that thrives on mental endurance under extreme and sometimes extended physical duress, Rainer immediately agreed – forgetting, it seems, the fact that he had never raced a boat in his life or, for that matter, rowed the eight-mile distance required to get across the Puget Sound to Bainbridge Island and back.

Fortunately, the experience was both memorable and encouraging. Storb's respectable eighth-place finish against a field of more proficient rowers and higher performance boats inspired him to join Sound Rowers and to challenge himself with more races over equal and greater distances.

"The membership fee was only $25 so I had nothing to lose," he jokes, adding that "the only real way to get disqualified from the club is if you don't have any fun!" Humor aside, Storb says the club's membership includes several "supreme oarsmen," and counts within its membership both novice rowers and former Olympians.

And while Storb himself doesn't say much, his devotion to the sport is obvious testimony to his own success. Storb is so passionate about being on the water, he commutes to and from work across Lake Washington each day, clocking up an average of 70 miles per week and as many as sixteen long-distance (five to one hunded-plus miles) races per year. The five-mile trip each way provides an ideal opportunity to log the miles necessary for the endurance races that occur up and down the West Coast each weekend between March and November, and they're also a good opportunity for Storb to practice speed and technique drills.

"Most of the time conditions are good," says Storb, who resorts to a bicycle when the weather simply won't cooperate. "There are about 500 to 800 meters that are pretty rough, but by the time you get to the Montlake Cut and Portage Bay, it's pretty row-able."

The same can't always be said of distance-rowing's often diabolically challenging races – like the 115-mile Corvallis to Portland Regatta (known as CPR!) which includes a day-one distance of 85 miles and tops off the second day with an 11-mile sprint. But for Rainer, participating in this race and so many others is about recreation and personal satisfaction as much as anything else.

"There are people who take it very, very seriously and who train in a very scientific way, but I do enough science at my work," he smiles. "I might not do a very long row on the weekend before a long race – maybe just a leisurely paced ten mile or so – but other than that I don't really do any [special preparation]."

Storb's obvious respect for the challenges of open water, combined with his equally relaxed perspective on the pleasure and personal fulfillment of long-distance racing seems to capture the essence of this arm of the sport. A little removed from the pressures of flatwater racing (thanks, perhaps, to the humbling nature of winds, tidal swells and unruly currents), open water racing has a slightly grass-roots, all-comers feel that invites even the most tentative newcomers to join in the fun.