Who IS more foolish, the fool or the fool that follows? In this case, it's between those that come back to tackle the Liffey Descent again or those that take up the challenge for the first time.
Crossing the Ha'penny Bridge is about the greatest thrill most people get from the River Liffey. The thought of racing through 18 miles of flushing weirs and spinning torrents is strictly for the madly adventurous or the just plain daft. The 39th edition of the Jameson race once again provided the opportunity for 1,200 such thrill-seekers and a few unknown entities as well to discover just exactly what the river has to offer.
"At least now I can say I did the Liffey Descent," seemed the most popular explanation. "Hoping to have a few less spills," said the more experienced. "Losing a few pounds" or "working up a thirst" also proved common. None, however, spoke with any sort of assurance.
Shortly after midday on Saturday a flood of canoes of all shapes and sizes were spurted on by a lot of extra water and nervous energy towards the Straffan Weir in Kildare where the race begins in earnest. The crowds gather at this point from early morning, and for good reason. The sight of over a thousand canoes hitting the mini-waterfall is unlike anything you'll see in any sporting event. A bit like a big-city marathon running into a earthquake.
Conditions, mercifully, were perfect, although that only really concerned the elite competitors. The racing K1 and K2 classes took off like a formula one start with speed and determination that can only come after months of training. Malcolm Banks and Fergus Cooper reversed their positions of last year in the blue-riband K1 class with Banks finally pulling ahead at the last weir for victory in one hour 58.01 minutes - just eight seconds outside his own course record.
The women's K1 went to Michelle Barry from Kildare for the seventh year in a row while the men's K2 team of Alan and Ian Tordoff made it six wins out of eight starts and led an English clean sweep of the medals in the class.
There should have been a prize for the crew which had travelled from furthest afield. Bill Stafford and John Mark Harris had come 5,000 miles from South Texas, and crews came from South Africa and New Zealand.
Most of the less experienced were having their own battles with bottlenecks and stopper-thrashing (both canoeing nightmares), or the chicken-chutes and jungle sections along the way. The fearsome high drop at Lucan Weir claimed the most casualties, but sprained shoulders and wrists were as bad as the injuries went.
The managing director of Jameson, Richard Burrows, had been playing with the idea of taking part for a number of years and decided, well, better late than never. Producing one of the most remarkable debuts of the race, his double Canadian canoe, shared with Brendan O'Connell, ended up in the top 10.
The unique high of exhaustion, combined with euphoria that only comes with completing an event like this, is the reward for all finishers. Along with the memories of the first drenching, the expedition across Leixlip Lake and the people by the bank helping to empty your boat of fresh Liffey water. And just maybe the desire to do it all over again next year.
