Pulling hard for Eastside rowing

One step onto the trail leaves the buzz of suburbia behind. The sound of the morning commute along busy West Lake Sammamish Parkway fades at the start of the walk down a quarter-mile path, giving way to singing birds, blooming flowers and cool breezes.

At the bottom is a vintage boathouse, which sat vacant for years, until the Eastside decided Seattle's lakes were not the only place for rowers.

Its walls are lined with rowing machines, which loudly whir as a dozen women and a few men wearing red and navy-blue jackets with "Sammamish Crew" in bold white letters across the back straddle them for their morning warm-up. Others stretch under suspended rows of shells, chatting about travel plans and children.

Fifteen minutes have passed when coach Paul Smith posts the day's lineup for the Sammamish Rowing Association's advanced rowing class, listing where each person will sit.

Some of the rowers hoist the 70-foot shells over their heads and begin a short walk down to the water. Others grab large oars.

Eight of the rowers line each shell, and then push off for a gentle ride up the slough before entering Lake Sammamish.

The rain doesn't bother them. Heavy wind and snow are the only things that keep them off the lake.

When the water is too rough, they row in the always-mellow slough, one of Lake Sammamish's advantages.

This morning, the water is calm. Each rower grasps a single large oar.

Coach Smith — riding parallel to them on a small launch — starts the group with a caterpillar drill, meaning rowing alternates, two people at a time.

The oars dip into the water and the rhythm begins. The shells skim smoothly across the lake.

Not just a Seattle thing

Although rowing is very Northwest, it has typically been a Seattle thing, starting 100 years ago when crew racing became a University of Washington sport. But the Sammamish Rowing Association has managed to make a mark during its relatively short existence. It has turned a lake long known for water skiing and bass fishing into a bastion for long, sleek shells and rhythmical rowers.

The club started in 1996 after some ex-rowers who heard about an abandoned shellhouse went to a parks meeting and asked to use it as a community rowing facility. They explained their wish, to create an asset for an area with rapid growth and a demand for rowing. They became partners with the county.

The nonprofit club moved into the 40-year-old boathouse just south of Marymoor Park in 1997. King County recently granted the club permission to build a new $800,000 boathouse in the same location.

The 250 members range from beginners to national-level competitors, from juniors to veterans, in all heights, weights and ages. There is a high-school rowing program open to students in grades 8 to 12.

There are two types of rowing: sweeping and sculling. Rowers "sweep" with one oar each, their coxswain calling orders and encouragement from the stern. With sculling, each rower has two oars and there is no coxswain.

The Sammamish club does both.

'Like part of the environment'

Low in their boats and close to the lake's surface, these rowers use many words to describe water, from ripples to waves.

"You feel like part of the environment, aware of the wildlife and everything going on," says club member Steve Isaac. "You just don't notice that type of stuff in a power boat."

Isaac windsurfed when he lived in California, but had to give that up when he moved to Sammamish. A friend introduced him to rowing four years ago. He now goes at least twice a week.

As a young, grassroots organization, recruiting new members such as Isaac is one of Sammamish Rowing Association's main objectives. Word-of-mouth brings most people. Coaches start with the fundamentals of rowing and work to make the first experience positive and welcoming.

Beginners start by practicing the basic strokes on rowing machines and then learning how to carry the boats correctly and safely. They practice in the slough until they are ready to venture on to the lake. Novices first learn to scull in small boats so they can learn the proper stroke.

Classes are accessible with a number of day and evening time slots — many before or after work — and a cost of about $5 an hour. There is no membership requirement for the co-ed classes, unlike many clubs that require yearly dues.

Joining is easy, although rowing — a sport that works every muscle — only looks it. It provides an excellent cardiovascular workout, and develops fluidity and grace as well as power and endurance.

Besides offering recreation for many, the Sammamish Rowing Association is also earning respect on the competitive scene. A recent win at a prominent regatta in San Diego, where the club's junior women won the Flaschsenhar Cup, was unexpected.

"It was good to see an up-and-coming team get an early-season win," said Rome Ventura, a coach at Lake Union Crew in Seattle. "Normally, Sammamish is not in that speed range. It was good to see them go for it."

'Anyone can row'

The Sammamish club is struggling to maintain a balance between competition and recreation as it grows into one of the biggest rowing clubs in the Pacific Northwest. It serves young and old.

Andi Schenman, 50, wanted to do something really Northwest when she moved from Anaheim to Redmond six years ago. She noticed some rowers one day while driving across the bridge.

"They looked so graceful and such a team," she said. "When I was in school, all we could do was be cheerleaders. I never had a coach, was never on a team."

She is in the third-year group that meets three times a week from 9 to 11 a.m. from February to November.

"We're the old-folks group," says 63-year-old Mary Ckatfield.

"Anyone can row," Coach Smith says. "These people started late in life and have turned into rowers."

Rowing is an amateur sport in which no one earns a living, he said. It doesn't offer a lot of fame and glory.

The former college coach says teaching at the club is very different than at a university, where rowers are a select group. "Here, everyone is on equal ground, part of a club. You don't have to get picked to be on the team."

As the rowers pass mammoth homes lining the lake, Smith yells to them over the roar of his boat's outboard, issuing orders about posture and position. He calls the rowers by their seat number. Dog walkers at a nearby park look on. The rowers are the only ones on the lake this morning.

When everyone is on, the boat soars.

The only break is to turn the shell around, or to watch a flock of Canada geese or an eagle swoop down for a morning meal.

The 200-year-old sport is not only physical, but mentally stimulating, rowers say. Everyone is working together, concentrating on the same thing and constantly working to improve. Every stroke is a new chance.

"When you get going, you're flying," Isaac said. "You can feel the rowers when you're in sync. With all the different bodies on the boat, when you get it, it feels so good.

"There is something both powerful and wonderful about being in the water."

Leslie Fulbright: 206-515-5637 or lfulbright@seattletimes.com