Shaver rowed for the University of California, Irvine, then for Orange Coast College. In national rankings, she is somewhere around 25th, though she adds that not every rower takes the test. She was recruited by Virginia, Washington, University of Southern California. She just signed a letter of intent at California State University, Sacramento.

At 5-foot-10, Shaver is on the short side for the sport, she says, but she's been invited to an Olympic training camp.

Why, 25 years after Title IX became law, are waves being made? The law, it seems, was a great one for benefit of the doubt. A little in need of assertiveness training, the law all those years ago called only for a trend toward equity.

A quarter of a century later, women got tired of waiting for the trend to become fact.

So the NCAA did something to help. It designated rowing as an "emerging" sport for women. That is, the association told the schools that if they wanted to sponsor certain sports, the NCAA would count those sports toward the school's accreditation.

So schools such as the University of Michigan did what they had to do. Both men and women at the school already were rowing in what amounted to a club program. The university formally adopted the women, built them a facility and a racecourse, bought them new equipment and made obsolete the T-shirt and bake sales they'd used to fund their competitive hobby.

The men, unrecognized, got the hand-me-down boats. But the women are generous; they pay to trailer everything. The men still hold bake sales, and everybody shares the river.

But recruiting for both teams remains a bit haphazard. Right now, more than half of the athletes who row competitively in college are recruited in the fall as they walk through the campus. Some coach or some upper-classman looks over the student's tall, athletic frame and asks if they'd like to try out. (At Michigan, 180 women tried out that way this year.) It's the same thing all over, with the same process working at Orange Coast College, USC, even the national champion University of Washington.

Though that, too, could be changing. Junior programs, like the one at Newport Aquatic, are triple the size they were just three years ago. College recruiters now send director Steve Morris literature to pass out to promising rowers.

Costa Mesa's Brooke Leyerly first rowed at Newport, prompted by a friend whose father rowed. She'd played soccer, run track, did the softball thing. And waited for the scholarship to come.

Today, she's at Washington State University, on scholarship. To row.

(Coming soon -- but not real soon -- to a female athlete near you: scholarships in other "emerging" NCAA sports such as ice hockey, synchronized swimming, team handball, water polo, archery, badminton, bowling and squash.)

The only real downside to the truth about crewing is that nobody ever wanted Title IX to kill men's programs, or even bypass them. That has happened. At UCLA, in 1991, men's crew died along with men's water polo. In 1994, men's swimming and men's gymnastics bit the bullet, to make way for gender equity in scholarships. (By the way, water polo got reinstated because the men got alumni funding.)

Athletes such as Shaver hate that men are losing out.

"You see these guys working as hard as we are. They deserve the opportunities."

Sounds eerily familiar.

Early in June, up at Lake Natomas, with hardly anybody watching, women took a leap.

They had some help.

Click here to read the first part of this article.