...nwood...

[G2:3332 class=g2image_float_left]One of the things I love about city life is discovering micro-communities, new recreation opportunities and coming into contact with rich history. All three of these elements converged for me yesterday in my visit to The South End Rowing Club. A recent dip in Bass Lake (Point Reyes) had reminded me that swimming is a skill that I would really like to improve. So I got to thinking, if I were going to swim in San Francisco, where would I do that?

Armed with a new neoprene cap and goggles from Sports Basement - my loins girded with my favorite orange and green bermudas - I ventured to the South End Club during public access hours and tentatively rang their buzzer. Nobody answered the door. I checked the hours on the sign and rang again. Eventually the door was flung open by Ned, a sprightly member wearing nothing but red swim trunks and a neoprene cap folded up to expose an ear and allow some gray hair to peek out. When I announced that this was my first ever visit to the club, Ned courteously offered me a quick tour of the facilities pointing out the box for my day use fees (it's $6.50 - bring exact change), some empty lockers, the Men's changing area and showers. With a friendly nod Ned turned me loose and said that he'd probably see me in the sauna.

This is an ideal time of the year to embark on one's first swim in the Bay. The water doesn't get any warmer than this. Standing up to my knees a few feet off the beach, my cap and goggles securely positioned, I felt like Amelia Earhart approaching her Fokker F7 at the beginning of her first trans-atlantic flight. I wasn't so much worried about water temperature as I was about my abilities to stay afloat. Plunging forth, I marveled at the surreal view my hands cutting into the water in front of me - they seemed like the hands of another - perhaps because I quickly became preoccupied with hallucinations of hulking sea lions approaching me from the murky green depths. I felt pretty good about my maiden voyage, all in all. I made a conservative round trip to the 3rd buoy. The buoyancy of the salt water helped propel me along in contrast to my recent trashing about at Bass Lake.

Buck naked, with sweat streaming down my belly, I grin politely at a yarn being spun in the SERC suana: A member recently invited his favorite sushi chef on an abalone diving expedition. Apparently the seafood artist's swimming skills were lacking, and on top of that he was prone to sea sickness. From here the conversation turns to a cab-driving club member named "Grasshopper" who is a mayoral candidate. It seems he was recently arrested (again). Apparently there have been a couple of recent legal transgressions. One involved picking up a female fare at SFO and then exceeding 100 mph and refusing to stop when the customer requested. Grasshopper later got arrested for camping in his car in the driveway of Supervisor Ed Jew's house. At least you can appreciate the wry political statement here. (Jew has recently been under fire by allegations that he does not actually live in the district that he represents.) Before the chatter could loose momentum, a large, fully clothed man, bald with a well manicured handlebar mustache and Japanese-looking bandanna tied around his forehead, entered the sauna and declared "My God there are a lot of motherfuckers in here!"

In spite of my being at least 15 years younger than the rest of these South Enders, I have to say I found them to be a largely welcoming and...engaging...crowd. I gleaned some key information and advice about bay swimming: Expect the water temperature to suddenly plummet the week before Thanksgiving. "It will be a little harder to get going, but you will crave it more!" And, "If you start developing The Claw, it's time to head in." The Claw, as I understand it, occurs when the refreshing bay water causes your hands to cramp into a claw-like shape.

I'm thinking seriously about joining. There club's worn wooden floors, ramshackle wooden lockers and gorgeous rowing vessels exude a long-forgotten, yet vibrantly alive slice of San Francisco culture.