Breaking the Ice
by Clark Eid

"It's not getting to the pole that counts. It's what you learn of scientific value on the way. Plus the fact that you get there and back without being killed." From ALONE by Richard E. Byrd, Rear Admiral U.S.N. (Ret.)

Kurt Zimmermann.

It was 4:30 AM Sunday morning. The thermometer read 10oF, not too bad for December. It was time to pick up Kurt and go kayaking. We were in our dry suits and on the Connecticut River near East Haddam before 6 AM.

Headlamps cut through the darkness as we pushed the Double Helix through thin sheets of ice. The spray thrown from our paddles froze to anything it landed on. Special kayak mitts, designed to cover both the hand and paddle shaft, first became encased with ice.

Slowly, the ice progressed up our arms to cover our torsos. Kurt's wide brimmed hat resembled a sombrero with tassels because of the numerous small stalactites that had formed. In the morning twilight we were meet at our put-in location by Darin Artman and Eric Marshall.Both braved the cold to take photographs for use in future event-related publications. Kurt and I zig-zagged through the ice floes in the ever increasing morning light while Darin and Eric took photographs and video from various angles to document our training session.

For fun, we left our craft's safe refuge and floated around with the ice for the final shots. After bidding farewell to our friends and drinking some hot coffee, we headed back to the water. It was 9 AM and the tide was still surging upstream, preventing the ice floes from escaping to the ocean. We pushed upstream, skirting past the thicker slabs, following small leads of open water. Occasionally our luck ran out and we became boxed in. Forcing through these blockades was difficult, and it took its toll on us and our fine craft.

Kurt Zimmermann, left and Clark Eid.

Pictures by Darin Artman

Finally, after 15 miles, we reached Middletown. A final ice-crunching run across the river landed us at the Harbor Park Restaurant, where we stopped to fill our thermos with hot tea. Near noon we returned to the water and worked our way back. An ice-covered mile later, we visited a secluded snowy beach for lunch. As I stood in the shallow water to help steady the craft for Kurt to exit, I discovered that my feet had frozen to the ground under the water, a sign that the tide was still coming in. We took our time eating, and by the time we were done the tide had turned. It had also warmed to above freezing. The combined effect made the downstream journey relatively free of ice floes and we reached our put-in before sundown. It was a good day.

Training for The Great Mississippi River Race for Rett Syndrome, May 2001 continues despite freezing temperatures and icy conditions. We push ourselves through these conditions to prepare for the longest, toughest human-powered water race in history. It is extreme because of the extreme need to help those affected by Rett syndrome.

Training under these harsh conditions also helps to maintain a media presence, permitting us to "break the ice", metaphorically speaking, in getting our story out.

As always, you are invited to be a partner in this journey. Follow us as we train for the race of the century! For more information, please visit our web site located at http://www.dreamkeeper.org or call Clark Eid at (203) 271-2484.