What goes to Baltimore must come back.
No trouble on the road either. The shell was very stable and all I had to think about was not backing it into something or having some sleepy trucker crunch it. I wrapped half a roll of orange survey tape around the stern to aid in visibility.
If you use your imagination you might be able to visualize all of the overhang off the back of the truck. It was so hot and humid there at 8am that my minds eye was shutting down. So much for factual composition!
The Baltimore Rowing Club has a nice facility just south of the city that houses a large number of boats. The interior shot seen below represents a small fraction of the entire fleet. I'd never set foot in a real boathouse before and was surprised at the formality and even harsh atmosphere amongst the crews while handling the boats ashore. I suppose I shouldn't jump to conclusions but I could think of much nicer ways to spend my Saturday mornings than having some Drill Sargent (investment banker or something in real life) barking at me while the sweat from just breathing soaks my body from head to toe.
There is no doubt in my mind that this stubburn, independant boatbuilder wouldn't last 5 minutes in that atmosphere! I bet they wouldn't even invite me to the cocktail part after................
I felt sorry for those crew members as I pulled away, ready to wind my way back to Maine.