6:15 am at the stunning Renaissance Hotel (an awesome gift from Pittsburgh's strong women, strong girls), and I am the late riser. Mimi and Connie are both in the zone as I linger a little too long at breakfast--having let the chat monster out on a surprising guest, a woman named Charlotte Rubenstein. She's brings her coffee over to my booth and tells me that she wrote the history of American women artists and sculptors. Amazing! I have to leave, but Connie hooks her up with some of the swim's awesome bookmarks.
It's a gray day along the point where the Mahahhhahhhaa (not the Allegheny) meets with the Ohio River, but die-hard supporters come out to see Mimi take off. Photographers, journalists and friends surround her with love and Connie, still in the zone makes sure that all of the checklists are taken care of. Our new friend, George (also the reason we have a warm bed and meal) is ready in his yellow fisherman attire. I don't know how else to describe it--as a Californian I am without such vocab--yellow rain overalls and safari hat. All of this is necessary, as it pours on and off for the first few hours of the swim. George's wife, Robin goes on a real safari with me as we chase them along the river. Her local knowledge is not a match for the poor weather and between lock masters and uncertainty we miss them the first few times...which turns out not to be too bad, since we cheer and see Mimi at 4 points later in the day.
She looks so graceful, and Connie says she admires her stroke up close. Mimi says she feels for her kayakers since the rain doesn't bother her, she's already wet! Robin, George's parents and I follow the swim team like something straight out of Twister, but instead of sophisticated equipment, we have photographer's tripods and zip-lock baggies. His parent's are a riot--mom's clad in matched leopard attire and channels 50's demure, but oh, who she is in the way she tells stories. In Silence of the Lambs, look for her, the lady in the window. She was staring outside at the crew of the film and the director asked her to stay in shot. She said she'd agree, only if she could run up and make herself decent. At 16 she saw George Sr. and decided that he was the one for her--a few years later, she let him know just how he could spend his summer job earnings. 55 years of marriage, and the love just surrounds them.
George sr. and I decided we would scale a sharp rocky hill alongside Dashield Damn, the second of the day. That meant rusty barbed wire and open train tracks (as everywhere has around here), and as I climbed, a near miss of some of the wire (this is where I reconsider my mom's insistence on a tetanus shot). Mimi walked on the Damn's platform accompanied by an employee and gave us a hoot--Mile 14--only 6 to go. In such a rush to go down the hill to catch Mimi's departure from the lock, I hadn't realized my feet. Black charcoal, tarish sooted messes!
These messy toes met Mimi and the rest of the gang at mile 20--a random mile 20. Walking on train tracks (scary!) down to a small embankment, and the fun job of bringing the kayak back on the path for loading. I need to lift weights! Delicious ice cream out of a random pink punk shop and a baby detour to kind host-mother Shirley's home, and here we are in Beaver Falls to gear up for another day on the Ohio River. Whoa... Day 1.
Day 0-1 was the jacking of Mimi's laptop and Day 0-2 was the discovery of said event and even with Mimi's frank statement that all of Day 1 pretty much sucks to swim as her body gets used to the idea of doing 20 miles in a chemically-ridden river with a mild current, I would call it a success. Adventure, again tomorrow and it's Mimi's birthday!
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