
In 2013 when Lynn Fischer, a first-grade teacher in Missoula, was diagnosed with invasive lobular carcinoma breast cancer at age 43, her life was dramatically upended. She soon started treatment that would include eight rounds of chemotherapy, six surgeries and a double mastectomy.
When Fischer was diagnosed, she told her breast cancer navigator that she wanted to talk to someone who she could relate to as her body changed and the fear of death lingered.
“I wanted to talk to someone who is like me – someone who’s going through what I’m going through right now,” Fischer said.
That’s when Fischer met Nan Condit through a mutual friend. In the same year, Condit at age 50 was diagnosed with triple-positive breast cancer, an aggressive form of the disease that had reached stage two when it was detected.
Condit and Fischer talked on the phone for about a year before meeting in person and they gradually started connecting with other women who were going through cancer treatment over coffee or wine.
The grassroots support group grew to a handful of ladies –– all who had been athletes prior to their cancer diagnosis –– who wanted to move forward and return to an active lifestyle following their recovery. As they continued meeting, they learned about dragon boat racing, a Chinese sport involving up to two dozen paddlers in one long vessel, which had also gained traction in the breast cancer world in recent decades.

“There was no support group to tell you what to do to go forward,” said Condit, who has a background in exercise physiology. “We know movement is medicine.”
In the mid-90s, a sports medicine physician at the University of British Columbia wanted to determine if dragon boat paddling would reduce the risk of upper extremity lymphedema –– a complication of breast cancer that triggers chronic, irreversible swelling of the arm. He placed two-dozen women in a dragon boat, and he was able to study all 24 of them together.
The women raced in Vancouver in 1996 among 130 teams in their vessel dubbed “Abreast in a Boat,” which spawned a movement. There are now 380 breast cancer survivor dragon boat teams across the world.
While studies have proven that exercise helps reduce cancer reoccurrence by 30% to 40%, Condit says the camaraderie of the sport plays a significant role.
“With a dragon boat, you have to be in sync and when you’ve all been through the same journey of cancer, it can be traumatic,” Condit said. “So, when you’re all in a boat together doing the same thing, it’s pretty powerful. It’s healing –– it’s really about the healing power of water.”
To make their team official, the group launched the Silver Lining in 2017 and paddled two dragon boats on Salmon Lake northeast of Missoula. They traveled around the Northwest and Canada to compete in 500-meter races. To train for paddling, they started their own private gym in Missoula where they work out together in the “Den.” The group has since partnered with the University of Montana’s Cancer Rehabilitation Lab as part of the integrative physiology school. There are now 350 members in their closed Facebook group with about 40 who consistently paddle.
But in 2020, the Silver Lining ladies couldn’t paddle dragon boats during the pandemic. Searching for ways to keep paddling, Condit bought a one-man outrigger canoe –– a boat with a lateral support float called an “ama” attached to bars called “‘iako,” which functions as a stabilizer in rough water.
That same year, Silver Lining launched the inaugural Paddle Palooza with about 10 people on Flathead Lake, where the boats are better suited for longer voyages. The next year, they paddled the 30-mile length of Flathead Lake from Polson to Somers in two six-person outrigger canoes that they found next to an old barn, where they’d been sitting for two decades.
In the six-person canoes, a steersman in the back of the boat yells commands that include “kau,” which means place the blade, “hoe,” or paddle, and “huki” or pull.
“We rehabbed those and brought them back to life and it has since grown,” Condit said. “It grew from one-man to the second year we had two outriggers and the third year we had six.”

As part of Hawaiian and Tahitian culture, outrigger canoes were designed for long voyages on the ocean and racing was an import aspect of island life. During European occupation in the early 1800s, racing was almost eradicated before there was a resurgence decades later.
Members of Silver Lining were drawn not only to the beauty of the outrigger canoes, but the Hawaiian and Tahitian culture resonated with their spirit of sisterhood.
“Some people say, ‘well what does this have to do with cancer?’” Condit said. “It was an evolution and for our group to move from dragon boat to outrigger –– we paddle both. We really embrace the aloha spirit. We honor those that came before us. We honor the sisters we lost.”
Prior to learning about outrigger canoes, Condit met a Hawaiian elder named Kimokeo Kapahulehua and another mentor, Jake Freeman, both who she says were instrumental in teaching them about the sport. A group of Silver Lining members traveled to Coeur d’Alene where they taught a clinic about both the sport and the culture and has since led them to launch the Montana Canoe Club, which collaborates with the Inland Northwest Canoe Club.
Now in its sixth year, the Paddle Palooza has grown from 10 people to 200 paddlers in 20 six-man canoes, with teams hailing from across the country. Canada usually has a presence at the event, but global tensions will keep them north of the border this year. For each team of 10 to 12 requires a support boat, with members alternating every hour.

During the first day, sprint races will be held in ARE canoes, a type of outrigger made of carbon fiber designed for speed, while the second day consists of the 25-mile voyage using the six-man boats that Condit fondly refers to as the “old girls” –– the outriggers discovered next to the old barn.
“I still love these old girls,” Condit said. “They’re more stable –– they’re like us. They have a lot of scars, but with the scars and stories they have a lot of ‘mana,’ which is ‘life force’ in Hawaiian.”
The Palooza organizers place a special emphasis on the opening ceremony in Polson before the voyage, which Condit says is orchestrated to bring together Tahitian, Hawaiian and Salish Kootenai culture.
Condit describes the ceremony as an emotional experience that begins with support boats arranged in a circle. Kapahulehua opens with a prayer on the dock and expresses gratitude to the Confederated Salish Kootenai Tribes for sharing their land and honoring ancestors. The ceremony continues with chants followed by tossing flowers into the water to honor those who are gone.

“There’s usually not a dry eye,” Condit said. “We’ve all been touched by death or cancer or what have you. I’m not afraid of death –– they’re always with us. Whether they’re not physically with us –– our ancestors still guide us and show presence in times of need.”
Condit feels the presence of her friend Betsy Cohen, who died of metastatic breast cancer at age 47 in 2014 –– days before finishing her own rounds of treatment.
“Betsy is much of what drives this,” Condit said. “I hear her all the time.”
Friends since their early 20s, Condit supported Cohen during her treatment by going to appointments with her before her own cancer was detected.
“I had been with her –– I had gotten to know the cancer routine and all of a sudden, I’m immersed in it and I’m with her,” Condit said. “Those were pretty special times because we were irreverent.”
That irreverence has kept Condit and the rest of the Silver Lining members pushing through. While the group knows when to keep the mood light, the boat also acts as an organic vessel to talk about the serious aspects of cancer.

Fischer, the first-grade teacher in Missoula, says she values their shared experience as breast cancer survivors, and she’s reassured to know her sisters are there for one another.
“We are all in the same boat and sharing the paddle experience; sharing our trauma and hopes and fears and dreams,” Fischer said. “We realize we are all alike. We are more alike than we are different.”
Fischer says one of the most rewarding parts about Silver Lining is introducing new members to the group and providing mentorship about life beyond breast cancer.
When Vicki Olson was diagnosed with invasive ductal carcinoma breast cancer in 2017, her cancer navigator told her about Silver Lining, but she was apprehensive because she had “never been a joiner of things.” Still, she joined the Facebook group and, after some encouragement, she hopped in a dragon boat in 2019.
“I got in that dragon boat at Salmon Lake, and I just became addicted to the sport,” Olson said, describing a powerful connection to “the camaraderie, the sistership that Silver Lining has provided me over the years.”
Olson has since started paddling the outrigger canoes, which she prefers over the dragon boats because of the long travel distances they afford.
“There’s something about being in the outrigger canoes,” Olson said. “Being on the water and the journey together with the people you have common things with. It’s almost spiritual.”
Despite the emotional and physical toll breast cancer has taken on her mind and body, Olson describes her cancer diagnosis as a blessing. She would have otherwise never met the women she has now developed such close connections with, and she’s formed a new appreciation for life.
Fischer, too, says she’s changed her perspective since her diagnosis and prioritizes living in the moment.
“I wouldn’t change a breast cancer diagnosis for anything,” Fischer said. “I wouldn’t have met these people, and I wouldn’t be doing what I’m doing on the water. Right now, it’s very empowering to know that you can help others.”
For Condit, she calls the sisterhood the true silver lining of everyone’s cancer diagnosis.
“None of us would change the course of our lives of what transpired,” Condit said. “This never would have happened had I not had cancer. Our sisterhood is tight. The group of friends and what we’ve been through together –– we just continue to be the light for others. When somebody starts going through it, we just circle them up and support them through it. We’ve been there –– it’s so much easier when you have that shared experience.”
“Every day’s a gift,” she added.