Early Mornings Yield Discipline, Teamwork

The sun hasn’t quite peeked over Fourth of July Summit as Coeur d’Alene’s Annie Stranger pulls on her ball cap, slips into sandals and points her car toward the Spokane River.

Trucks parked as casually as sleeping people still snore at the Huetter rest areas as she passes on the freeway. Headlights are optional in the growing daylight. Drivers steer with one hand and clutch a thermal coffee cup with the other.

Annie parks under the pines at the Ross Point Kiwanis Camp. The early morning sun adds a gentle luster to the river, as if someone just buffed night from its surface.

“It’s definitely worth getting up this early,” Annie says at 5:30 a.m. as a family of ducks glides across the westbound water. “It’s the most beautiful part of the day.”

In a few minutes, Annie will glide on the Spokane River nearly as quietly as the ducks. She’s an oarsman on the North Idaho College student crew.

Rowing is a graceful sport that began among England’s genteel folk in the 18th century. Sleek racing shells carry from one to eight rowers, one behind another.

They row in sync. Sliding seats enable them to maximize arm strength by also pushing with their legs. For racing, each rower handles one oar.

By 1852, Harvard and Yale universities had picked up the sport. NIC decided to give it a try in 1987. The Coeur d’Alene Rowing Association, a group of rowing aficionados, supplied the equipment and expertise.

NIC’s crew is open to any student. Annie, a 1998 Coeur d’Alene High graduate, rowed for the University of Puget Sound in Tacoma last season. She’s home for the summer and wants to stay in shape.

“It’s a matter of passion,” says Martin Stacey, the 12-member rowing club’s adviser and a certified coach. “These youngsters are very serious about the incredible water here.”

Martin has scheduled practices early. He’s a quiet man absorbed in his sport until he thinks about the water traffic he tries to avoid.

“Time was you could ply the waters of Coeur d’Alene on a quiet weekend and not be assaulted by machines,” he says, his volume growing with his indignation.

“We’re an alternative to noisy Jet Skis, obnoxious, noise-polluting boats. Rowing, to me, brings peacefulness back to the lake.”

At 5:30 a.m., the water is flat and most powerboaters are sleeping.

The prevailing sounds are birdsong and wind with an undercurrent of freeway traffic.

“I just love it. It’s so peaceful, so awesome,” says Ellee Estep, who rowed with NIC a few years ago and plans to return this summer.

The students are novices and their boats are precariously narrow. Martin doesn’t want to worry about boat wakes swamping his crew with spring’s still-icy water.

The early workout time isn’t much of an issue with most students.

“You can’t beat this exercise,” says Rich Grout, a wildlife resource management student. “It’s a total body workout.”

“It’s an awesome workout,” Ellee says. “And there’s the prestige of rowing.”

Martin takes all students, even those who can’t pull themselves out of bed for every practice. The sport requires discipline and teamwork. It gives structure to young adults learning to live on their own.

“Rowing gives them a starting point,” Martin says. “It helps them get in a schedule. Often, it helps them get their homework done. It’s a great sport. It sells itself.”

Under Martin’s guidance, students lift and carry a four-person shell to the river. The water wasn’t warm enough until this month to start spring practices.

They’re still learning and transferring the skills they practiced on machines to the boat. No one gasps at the cold river. All eyes are on the shell that once carried Oregon State University’s crew to win after win.

The water beckons, as if it needs a playmate. Students attach oars and slide onto the seats without disturbing the boat’s delicate balance. Then the dance begins.

Four rowers move as one, pant in sync, sweat together, massage the water with hypnotically rhythmic dips of the oars. They’re as much a part of the morning river as the hungry geese and the teasing wind.

“I like the difficulty and the beauty,” Annie says. “That’s why I do it.”