A Mother of a journey
Iain King, Toronto, March 22, 2020
WEDDING BELLE...my mum Leila on her big day with my dad Matt, a 50-year marriage
EIGHT YEARS ago we lost my mum Leila, every Mother's Day since carries with it memories of her floating to the surface when you wake and that gnawing sadness in your soul.
These are desperately trying times of isolation, stress and fear as Coronavirus strikes hurtfully deeper into our lives with each passing day.
The importance of the role of the selfless mothers in our society heightens.
Keeping families together, worrying every second about their kids and all of those around them. I miss my big-hearted mum still, every day.
If I had a time machine on lease for just one day then today I'd transport us all back to that terraced house in Bruce Terrace on the Murray housing estate in East Kilbride.
Waiting eagerly to muscle into the dining table that was brought out on Sundays for the roast beef dinner.
Yet coping with the grief of the death of your parents is part of the cycle of life.
Back in 2012 I wasn't doing too well with that. Leila and Matt had been the guiding compass in my life and I felt rudderless without them.
It was then that the privileges of my job as Head of Sport at The Scottish Sun afforded me the chance to meet a remarkable guy called Richard Harpham.
I needed a challenge to focus my mind and get me over the desolation I felt, he provided it. So even though I now live in Canada where Mother's Day isn't until Sunday May 10, this was Mother's Day for Leila.
I thought I'd use the blog to relive what became an epic journey I'll always associate with the memory of my mum.
TAKIN' A LIBERTY...at the finish line, a journey that will always carry special memories
BACK in the summer of 2012 I joined adventurers Richard Harpham and Glenn Charles on their quest to kayak 503 miles from Niagara Falls to the Statue of Liberty.
In the boat I discovered that New York state has a whole lot more to offer
than the Big Apple. It was a week on the Hudson river I will never forget.
This is the story.
DAY ONE: Kingston
Touchdown at Newark International. Back in New York for the first time since
9/11.
The skyline without the Twin Towers is haunting yet this city hums with the
same electricity. This time, though, it won’t be about Gallagher’s Steakhouse for a night out with the boys.
I hop in a yellow cab for Grand Central then catch the train to Poughkeepsie. I’m pensive, never kayaked in my life before my training in the icy North Sea at St Abb’s.
Push the memory away and look forward to meeting Richard and Glenn for dinner in Kingston.
They emerge from Day 16 of their quest knackered after a brutal 32-mile paddle. Local mayor Shayne Gallo, though, is the host with the most as he tells us all about his plans to restore the town he loves to its former glory.
I sit in Savona’s Trattoria marvelling at these two remarkable guys. They’re shattered, yet they revive to charm the place. Thank God, I’ll need them tomorrow.
DAY TWO: Kingston-New Hamburg. Distance completed: 25.2miles
We tour the Hudson River Maritime Museum and see the iceboats the locals still take down the frozen waterway in winter.
They were crafted in a bygone age, when Kingston used to cut the ice from the Hudson and sell it to the restaurants in New York City.
I realise how much the mighty Hudson draws these communities in and why now there is such a desire to harness its beauty and show the world another side
to the state that has the Big Apple at its core.
The nerves are jangling as I get in the boat but I’ve remembered enough from training and we power onwards. First stop is Poughkeepsie, where this time I’m coming in from the water to the dock and we are greeted by a crowd of supporters who’ve brought home-baked cookies.
I feel like an adventurer. There may be trouble ahead.
We dock at New Hamburg, and I’m jealous as the boys are lodging with king of the one-liners Jim Kelliher. Jim reminds me of Robert De Niro in Meet The Fockers. He won’t have his picture taken, his log cabin is full of bric-a-brac — yet it is one of the most welcoming homes I’ve had a beer in.
I yearn to stay for longer but expedition manager Simon Bevan and I head for
the Hyatt House Hotel in nearby Fishkill. Oh well.
DAY THREE: New Hamburg-Stony Point. Distance completed: 27 miles
I’m buzzing. I’ve switched boats and I’m in with Glenn but the Hudson is like shimmering glass and we blast through 6.3 miles in the morning to stop at the beautiful new kayak pavilion at Beacon Point.
I shoot the breeze with local journalists there to meet us and we tour the new Scenic Hudson River Center.
After mouth-watering pastrami on rye brought by our I Love NY support team, we’re back out on a river that has now claimed my heart.
Six gruelling hours later it has claimed all my last reserves of energy as I learn again why I respect so much the sheer, dogged determination of the two men piloting these 22ft twin kayaks.
The Hudson is made for paddling, a leisurely couple of hours drinking in breathtaking scenery.
We pass West Point Military Academy and Rich — always proud of his tartan heritage — joins me as we belt out Flower Of Scotland with all our hearts.
Glenn and Scenic Hudson’s Scott Keller slaughter the Star Spangled Banner. USA 0 Scotland 1! I’m about to give them a goal back, though.
The wind turns against us, the tide switches and my technique falls apart in those closing miles.
I’m exhausted, lying on the dock at our pick-up point a busted flush. My mates drag me up off the floor before we head for spicy shrimp at Hogan’s Family Diner in Stony Point.
DAY FOUR: Stony Point-Yonkers Distance completed: 21.9miles
We camp out on the field that was the site of the 1779 Battle of Stony Point during the War of Independence.
It was here on a warm July night that the Americans staged a surprise night
attack and took out an entire regiment of the British infantry. In 25 minutes.
Last night I was too tired for history. We slept as the soldiers would have, underneath a canvas canopy.
I awake to see Rich spark out in an inflatable raft, 20 minutes later there are soldiers in their 1779 uniforms arriving for work on this restored site.
They watch Rich put me through some paddling drills with no water in sight in the car park. Surreal life being an adventurer. But it works. Rich and I reel in the stage without me feeling taxed.
At the finish I can see folk who will become our friends over the next two days on the dock with warm smiles and cold Budweisers. I Love NY!
We step out of the boat at the Yonkers Paddling & Rowing Club and Rich says with a wry smile: “You actually looked like a paddler out there.”
Sure, I have felt more pride in the last few years. I just can’t remember when.
We head for Bezcak Educational Centre and sleep on the floor of this great place where local kids learn about marine animals and life on the Hudson.
Saturday night in Yonkers and we have some downtime. It can mean only one
thing. Beer.
We hit a boxing bar called The Undisputed and I sink a few Blue Moons with a slice of orange in my pint. Awesome.
DAY FIVE: Sunday on the Hudson
I Love NY has kindly scheduled in a day off and today I meet a legend. Bob Walters has lived on the river all his life and now runs the Science Barge, an eco-craft that sits at the bank where they grow crops hydroponically.
He teaches kids to respect and learn about their environment but in a way that draws them in. This fascinating guy would have been some football coach.
At night we eat at Peter Kelly’s swanky X20 restaurant that juts out over the Hudson and apologise for our clobber.
I’m wearing a free Wild Carp T-shirt from upriver — the only thing I have clean — my shorts and flip-flops.
City council president Chuck Lesnick isn’t bothered and takes us to the viewing deck. In the distance is the Statue of Liberty and the city skyline. Wow.
DAY SIX: Yonkers-New York City. Distance completed: 13 miles
This is it, the big day but no one has told God.
Rich and I blast out. I feel good but the rain starts coming down in stair
rods. It stops, though, like magic as we approach the George Washington Bridge and
we pause underneath. Staring up at feats of engineering like this will be seared on my memory forever.
We push on to Pier 40 for the final press conference and now the clouds are ominous.
Rich and Glenn decide with all the water-taxis and the choppy conditions it’s too risky to head for the statue. Back in the boats tomorrow.
DAY SEVEN: Pier 40-The Statue of Liberty. Distance completed: 4 miles
We’re staying in the quirky and classy Gershwin Hotel on 7 and East 27th
Street and the place is unreal.
Every one of the 150 rooms is different and there are art exhibits from Andy Warhol to classic photography adorning the walls.
We hit Pier 40 for the last leg and within 90 minutes of navigating through cruise ships packed with Japanese tourists we make it. The Statue of Liberty.
I came on this quest to clear my head. I lost my mum in January and it knocked me sideways. I look at the statue and say a silent prayer for her.
There are a few tears but as ever Rich makes me smile because he loves the headline game we’ve played a few times in the boat.
“Right, Kingy,” he smiles. “What’s the headline this time?”
“Takin’ a Liberty, Rich, it has to be.”
And we did.
