The river valley, most of which is parkland, is a jewel and, to be corny, what makes Edmonton shine. I look forward to letting the current take me through the length of the City while I sit back and enjoy the high sculptured valley walls and the memories they evoke. I will spare the reader and break the list of memories into the city of my youth (1952 – 1964) Part B; and my second coming (1979 – 1986) Part A.
Part A
Because Terwillegar Park, followed by Fort Edmonton Park, will be the first to greet me on my right as I arrive into Edmonton, and did not exist in my youth, I will describe memories unique to 1979 – 1986 first.
Historic Fort Edmonton is a valuable and fascinating rebuild of a variety of buildings and their contents representing a number of epochs which gave me glimmer of what had been before my arrival on earth.
Edmonton Rowing Club (L): I have only been on the River once and for only a short segment. To me at least, that previous sojourn is worthy of repeating but necessary of a preamble. In 1983 an enterprising group out of Calgary under the leadership of Marvin McDill undertook something that was unique in the annals of Canada and certainly Alberta. They put together a bid for an entry into the world’s premier offshore sailing race called the America’s Cup. Their custom designed 12 metre yacht (the standard for the years 1956 – 1987) was appropriately named Canada 1 and, for a landlocked province, rules required it be registered at Secret Cove Yacht Club, BC. An Edmonton consortium was put together to finance the purchase of a previous generation 12 m training yacht called Clipper to serve as training partner. That boat was both registered and located in Newport, Rhode Island which at that time was the world hub of the America’s Cup, not because it was located in the United States but because the USA had never lost the best of seven series since its founding in 1851.
In the winter, spring and summer of 1983 there were a steady round of fund raising events in Edmonton and throughout Canada to support the Canada 1 outfitting and training of the 12 man on deck crew, let alone the supporting cast onshore. One such event was a rowing “test” match of 8 motley supporters vs. the well honed crew of the Edmonton Police Department on the River at the site of the Edmonton Rowing Club. The Club had been founded in the 1970’s and a site developed on the north side of the River near Laurier Park.
What unfolded was worthy of a Three Stooges movie. As I was one of the unlikely eight, my total lack of experience in a racing shell, let alone the understanding of the synchronization required of eight rowers and a coxswain, was fairly typical. What unfolded was an unmitigated, if humorous, disaster which fortunately at least did not result in damages to the actual racing shell or injury to any participant, as long as one’s ego was not counted. Since the shell was a sweeper, as opposed to a skull, and each rower used two hands to row a single oar alternatively to the left or right, there were four oars working, to put it loosely, out of each side. Now imagine that the timing of those 4 rowers could not be maintained beyond the first stroke with the result that not only were oars being whacked against each other, at times they were actually locked. Now appreciate this calamity was being repeated on the other side. Although very visible and loud, another more serious issue was occurring in the shell with some rowers colliding: as one rower was pushing back on the shuttle while drawing the blade of the oar through the water, in many instances the rower behind would be out of sync because focus was on keeping tempo with those other 3 rowers on that side of the boat. Out of sync often meant that rower was moving up the shuttle with the oar out of the water and hands and arms extended and catching the party ahead in the small of the back. The shot in the back hurt like heck and stopped one cold. The net effect was that in short order the boat would come to an abrupt halt for all the rowers had either stopped to disentangle or wince from the pain in their kidneys. All of this activity caused the shell to rock from side to side which served to accentuate the next problem.
The other delightful test of one’s pain threshold is called a “crab”. Imagine, in the midst of all this confusion, you stopped rowing but did not lift your oar out of the water. Or imagine alternatively, you were trying valiantly to keep up the tempo with the others and, having finished your stroke, were bringing the oar back to the starting position. At any time this required finishing the stroke and holding the blade out of the water until reaching the start and then consciously dipping the blade back in the water. However, because of the rocking of the boat the blade unintentionally entered the water at the midpoint of this movement. As the boat had momentum, if only because of the current of the River, the blade upon catching the water would grab and thrust the handle suddenly and with force into to your rib cage. I can attest to experiencing this little treat more than once and each time with more power because the shell was unfortunately moving faster.
The police crew went from amusement to contempt in short order and gave up any sense of a race. By this time we were down river and had to get some sort of order together to get back to the clubhouse, against the current yet. Through fits and starts we slowly were making our way back to the base. At one point we were remarkably making some way when, for the first time, our coxswain was required to actually steer the boat. It was only then it became apparent that he did not know what he was doing with the pedals at his disposal and dramatically turned the rudder the wrong way and hence steered the boat into the shore. The mirth was palpable and heightened because this was not a scripted “slapstick” comedy or anything else contrived but simply 9 goofs screwing up an activity that required technique and precision. The word dénouement and its meaning immediately sprang to mind: the outcome of a doubtful series of occurrences. What was the best part? While it would be 20 years before I got into a shell again, I had a lot of fun!
From the west: R= right shore or valley top, L for gauche
Whitemud Drive Bridge
Convention Centre L
Muttart Conservatory R
Commonwealth Stadium: The Edmonton Eskimos won 5 Grey Cups in a row from 1978 – 1982. L
Capilano Expressway Bridge (Expressway subsequently renamed Wayne Gretzky Drive)
Northlands Coliseum: The Edmonton Oilers dynasty of Wayne Gretzky, Mark Messier, Paul Coffey, Grant Fuhr, et al was beyond excitement. L
Strathcona Science Provincial Park R
Sunridge Ski Area R
Yellowhead Highway Bridge
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