Twenty paddlers hit the water on the same beat, and for the next two hundred and fifty meters the only question that matters is whether twenty strangers learned to breathe as one body.
The boats are forty feet long, hand-painted with dragon heads and tails, and the races are over before you finish describing them. Between heats there are lion dances, taiko drums, and the sort of food-truck village that only materializes when several cultures decide to throw a party on the same stretch of shoreline on the same weekend.
Mission Bay has hosted this since the early two thousands. Teams come in from across the country — corporate crews, community clubs, and people who saw a flyer and said yes before thinking it through, which is how most of the good ones start. Spectators watch free from the grass.
Find nineteen people. Learn to breathe together. Come back next year in a boat.