Women's Crew Diary - Rachel Trusheim
5/6/2004 8:00:00 AM | Women's Rowing
May 6, 2004
Butterflies and wing-nuts ...
There's nothing quite like stepping out of a Bucknell University vehicle and sinking your flip-flops into the gravel of nearly 117 years of tradition. On a sunny Saturday morning, Bucknell's very own lightweight eight (established 2002) arrived at Princeton's monstrous Bernard C. Shea Boathouse, necks craned up at the multimillion dollar resort. "Don't look at it," Coach said. We turned our backs, slid on our sunglasses, and pushed the landscape out of view. We rigged feigned interest towards a glittering lake and distinctive "P"s pouncing off the backs of unisuits. We ran, said little or nothing. A wild electric pulse passed between us, through wrenches, blades, and looks of apprehension. But we had a purpose. A mission. The good fortune of nothing to lose.
As legend prophesied, they were fast and formidable. On our port side, they hammered out a quick start that was precise and clean. But we kept our focus, surged ahead of their lightweight novice and finished with dignity. And though we spun around feeling like we have our work cut out for us, there was relief that nothing catastrophic had occurred. No loose hardware, no significant bobbles, and no real breakdown in rhythm. On the dock, we hoisted the boat up knowing that a cement building block had just been poured and cast. Princeton is no longer a dream team, but some solid competition. Their fast time is not impossible to catch.
After the race, we received a complimentary brunch with the hospitable Tigers and a tour of the boathouse. We wandered through corridors of plaques, memorabilia, and blown up photographs of alumni whose eyes seemed to cry, "Don't let us down, Princeton." Before driving home, we took a team picture on the bridge, and Coach murmured something about us being the first, making a bit of history for Bucknell rowing. But to tell you the truth, I like our rinky-dink, underdog, Bucknell-who? Status. We have no back-up plan and we row with that desperation. We aren't just a lightweight eight, we are THE lightweight eight. We have each other to count on and not some shadow of expectation. And so, I will venture to say that there's something about the rugged air of the Susquehanna and the early morning smell of baked goods rising over the mountain that feels genuine. Our facilities are limited, our boathouse is a well-constructed lean-to, and the water is full of debris, chop, and wind. I know somewhere, in us, is the spirit of the river. And that I'm told, moves faster than privilege. We will rush like the current, wherever there's a gap to close.
- Rachel Trusheim '05