| Without a Paddle: 
                Racing Twelve Hundred Miles Around Florida by Sea Kayak by Warren 
                Richey Buy it. Read it. You’ll like it.  
 Hardcover: 352 pagesPublisher: St. Martin's Press (June 8, 2010)
 Language: English
 ISBN-10: 031263076X
 ISBN-13: 978-0312630768
 Dimensions: 8.2 x 5.7 x 1.3 inches
  That’s the short review of Warren Richey’s 
                just-published book, Without 
                a Paddle. It’s tempting to leave it right there, 
                not to say anything else. But the proprietor of this fine website 
                usually demands something more. Besides, he might cut my salary 
                (I get one 3/4-inch, stainless #6 wood screw per word) for such 
                a truncated review. And I’ve got a lot of gunwale to attach 
                to the new boat . . . 
 So let’s press on and say that Richey’s book has the 
                elements of an excellent read: a good story to tell and a story 
                that’s well told. The setting is the first Ultimate Florida 
                Challenge in 2006. Regular Duckworks readers are probably familiar 
                with WaterTribe’s annual Everglades Challenge, a 300-mile 
                annual expedition event that goes south from Tampa Bay around 
                the tip of Florida and ends in Key Largo.
 
 In 2006, the organization offered an expanded version, 1,200 miles 
                around the north-south peninsula of Florida. It starts with the 
                Everglades Challenge. Then from Key Largo, it goes up the entire 
                east coast of Florida and then treks up the St. Mary’s River. 
                Then there’s a 40-mile overland portage to the Suwanee and 
                a twisty-turny down river course back to the Gulf of Mexico and 
                a stop at Cedar Key. It finishes with a relatively short "dash" 
                of 120 miles back to the starting line. (The second UFC was run 
                earlier this year, and the next one will be in 2012.)
   Ten hardy souls signed up for the first UFC, including Richey, 
                a veteran of several ECs.
 
 Without a Paddle puts you with Richey in the cockpit of his sea 
                kayak as he muscles his way around the state. With frequent humor 
                and vivid prose, he shares storms and good weather, heat and cold, 
                his affection and respect for his competitors, and triumphs and 
                fears. (His fears frequently center on encountering some creature 
                – alligator, shark, python – that can remind him he’s 
                in their territory and not the top of the food chain; my fears 
                usually focus on flipping my sailboat and not being able to right 
                it.)
  Why did he do it? Let the author explain: "Some 
                time ago, having arrived at the middle years of my life with little 
                to show for it but a thriving bald spot and a flatulent seventeen-year-old 
                Toyota, I decided to do something completely nuts. I entered a 
                race. It was a fiftieth-birthday present to myself, one of those 
                well-intentioned but somewhat desperate attempts to stir things 
                up a bit, to get the blood flowing again."  It was more than a physical challenge. Richey had 
                undergone upheaval in his domestic life and was attempting to 
                piece it back together. The book successfully splices together 
                the race, personal thoughts, and snippets of his professional 
                career (he’s a journalist with extensive foreign experience).
 For the nautically addicted, there’s a wealth of detail. 
                Richey’s days usually consisted of 16 to 18 hours of paddling, 
                sometimes longer. Readers get to share his observations of the 
                changing landscape, the satisfaction of sending his craft efficiently 
                gliding along, and the frustration of slogging against wind, current, 
                or both. And you’ll almost taste, after several days of 
                gulped boat food, the ecstasy of a Hostess cherry pie from a convenience 
                store along the route. Sleep deprivation is a constant companion 
                and the author is blunt about how it affected his performance 
                and judgment. Anyone who has done an endurance event like an Everglades 
                Challenge or the Ultimate Florida Challenge and pushed the limits 
                will be nodding in recognition.
 
 Hard-core paddlers will benefit from an appendix that lists all 
                the gear and supplies Richey carried; it’s hard to conceive 
                anyone coming up with a more efficient compendium.
 
 It’s also hard to come up with the right words to praise 
                this superlative account. So let’s just settle for saying 
                it’s well worth the read. I actually read it twice. The 
                first time, like Richey with his treasured cherry pie, was in 
                measured bites to prolong the tangy enjoyment. The second time, 
                after Helen had devoured it, it was consumed in larger chunks.
 
 Without a Paddle is available in bookstores and from Amazon.com. 
                I got my copy at Borders.
 
 Interestingly, it wasn’t placed in the sporting section 
                with other books on sailing and kayaking. Instead, it was back 
                in the biography and autobiography section. I had to go back a 
                second time and then a friendly clerk had to fetch it from shipping 
                boxes in the back. Well worth the effort.
 
 
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