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February, 2007
La Classique: A first-timer’s account of Quebec’s big race
By Ted Kenyon
I wasn’t quite sure what to expect when Dan Rabinkin of Massachusetts first convinced me to do the Classique, the three-day stage race in Quebec. I had done the Adirondack Classic 90-Miler a few times, which is similar in format, but there is definitely a more competitive atmosphere to the Classique.
We started out by getting up to Quebec a few days before the race. This gave us a chance to scout out a number of key points along the course, as well as meet up with some fellow New Englanders who were up for the race. This included Priscilla Reinertsen and John Alsop, with whom we would be sharing a pit crew, and many others. It was good to see some friendly faces and get some last-minute advice about the race. We also got a chance to pre-run the infamous “whitewater” section of the course, which was quite an adventure. The waves are big, the river is wide, and you feel good when it is over.
On the final rest day before the race, we had one of our more interesting experiences of the whole trip. Dan wanted to get his girlfriend, Carina Peritore, a new ZRE paddle from Serge Corbin. We managed to run into someone who knew where Serge lived and led us to his house. He agreed to sell a paddle and we met up with him at his shop. Serge was extremely friendly and encouraging and asked us many questions about ourselves. It was fun to check out his shop and he gave us a preview of changes he was making on his pro-boat design. To make it clear that this wasn’t just any race paddle, Serge signed it “Serge Corbin #1” with a silver paint pen.
The morning of the first day of the race was soon upon us. It was chilly at the start, but the sun was out and it promised to be a nice day. While the pro canoe race is the main attraction at the Classique, the other, lesser-know part of the race is the “rabaska.” The rabaska are war-canoe teams. They are serious competitors with lots of team spirit and were a lot of fun to watch start.
Dan and I agreed to approach the start on the first day conservatively and focus on staying upright and otherwise avoiding any serious problems. For those who are not familiar, the starting line at the beginning of each day at the Classique is a taut rope. Each team backs their boat up to the rope and the stern paddler holds on until the gun goes off.
The start of the race involves a series of buoy turns so that the enthusiastic crowds can see the paddlers go past more than once. Needless to say, Dan and I were not anywhere near the fastest boat out there and were forced to eat a lot of wash as the pack moved across some shallow water. The waves here get huge. Several teams went for a swim.
Things went as well as to be expected and soon we were taking the first buoy turn, which was about a quarter-mile or so into the race. It was a left-hand turn. The level of chaos was similar to what you see going around the pontoon boat at the beginning of the 70-miler. Except here you are in current and there are giant wakes caused by the suck water. I think we were almost able to take the first turn without even putting our paddles in the water as we were crowded in by boats on either side.
The first day takes about 6.5 to 7 hours to complete. There are no portages.
The second day started where the first day ended. This start was much simpler, as the pack headed out across a wide and deep expanse of water. The weather was miserable this day, though it was probably worse for the spectators and pit crews than the racers. Before the first portage, there is an interesting counter-clockwise lap around a set of buoys. Each side is probably close to a quarter-mile long, and it gives you a chance to see some other racers that are both faster and slower than you as you make your way around.
The most exciting part of the second day is the final portage, the famous one down the boulevard that is commonly seen in photos of the race. The portage serves no practical purpose, it is just a stunt for the crowds. It was a rainy day, so the crowds were minimal for 2006. But those that did show up were extremely enthusiastic and spurred everyone on with their shouting. We tried to put on a good show.
Throughout the race, some of the colorful French Canadian language we heard from one boat in particular became a running joke between Dan and I. There were several new words that we learned, though it probably would not be appropriate to print them here. After the weekend, we turned to the Internet to provide some definitions. It helped explain a lot.
The third day of the race is the short one. It begins with a series of laps around some islands and buoys near where the second day ended. The racing was pretty exciting as we weaved our way through the turns. About 20 minutes or so into the race is the first portage — up and around a huge hydroelectric dam. This one featured an extremely steep downhill run to the put-in.
The whitewater section comes up following another portage. Some whitewater experience is very helpful here. You don’t need to make any technical moves, but some confidence is key. And make sure you have a spray skirt on your bow paddler.
The race ends at a park on a piece of land that is exposed to the St. Lawrence River.
There were lots of big waves and boat wakes to negotiate as you rounded a few last buoys on the way to the finish line.
A light rain was falling as we finished the race and we quickly packed up, put on some dry clothes, and headed south.
Dan and I were both happy with our performance in the race. We did not have a whole lot of time in the boat together, but things went as smoothly as we had hoped. And we’re both willing to get back in the boat with each other, so I guess that says something right there.
Like any big canoe racing event, one of the best parts is the camaraderie, and we got the chance to get to know a lot of great people. Other paddlers were also very supportive and encouraged us along. And of course a big thanks to our pit crew, Carina and Janice, who did a great job and were always where we needed them to be.
Ted Kenyon is editor of The Bent Shaft Paddler, the newsletter of the New England Canoe and Kayak Racing Association.
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