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Sept/Oct 2000
Buyer's Guide 2000 Features
Subscribe to Paddler Three Days of Pandemonium
Become a
Paddler Retailer An inside look at Gauley Fest, paddling's biggest bash
River Flows 100 Things That Matter in Paddlesports
Bulletin Boards It's often the little things that mean the most
Go to the ACA
BREAKING NEWS . . .
Shipley finishes fifth in 09/27/2000
Sydney
In what he said would be his final Olympic
appearance, three-time Olympian Scott Shipley
came up just short in yesterday's K-1, taking
fifth place overall. read >
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Automobiles
● Ford Outfitters -- Phone : (800) 258-FORD
● Subaru Of America
Roof Racks
● Canyon Sports Racks -- Phone : (800) 414-9019
● The Rack Warehouse, Mirage Truck Racks -- Phone : (800) 272-5362
● Thule Car Rack Systems -- Phone : (800) 238-2388
● Yakima -- Phone : (800) 348-9232 ext. 5214
Miscelleneous
● America Outdoors -- Phone : (423)558-3595
● American Canoe Association -- Phone : (703) 451-0141
● Boat Owners World
● Canadian Recreational Canoeing Association -- Phone : (613) 269-2910
● Cascade Outfitters -- Phone : (800) 223-RAFT
● Charleston City Parks & Recreation -- Phone : (843) 795-4386
● Dare County Tourist Bureau -- Phone : (877) BY-THE-SEA
● East Coast Sea Kayak Symposium -- Phone : (803) 795-4386
● Eckerd Youth Alternative -- Phone : (800) 222-1473
● Escape Sail Boats -- Phone : (800) SAIL-ONE
● Fluid Magazine (Dagger) -- Phone : (423) 882-0404
● Friends of the River -- Phone : (916) 442-3155 est.203
● Houston Canoe Club -- Phone : (713) 467-8857
● Kitty Hawk Sports -- Phone : (800) 948-0759
● Northern Lights Tourism Alliance -- Phone : (800) 664-WILD
● Profesional Paddlesports Association -- Phone : (606) 472-2205
● Professional River Outfitters -- Phone : (800) 648-3236
● Rangely Area Chamber of Commerce/White River Run -- Phone : (970) 675-5290
● San Juan Challenge -- Phone : (425) 776-1171
● Santa Cruz Surf Kayak Festival -- Phone : (831) 458-3648
● State Games of Mississippi -- Phone : (800) 482-0205
● Steamboat Ski Area -- Phone : (877) 266-2628
● Subaru Gorge Games
● Subaru Outback Rendezvous Event Series -- Phone : (703) 451-0141
● Trailex -- Phone : (800) 282-5042
● Vail Valley Tourism & Convention Bureau -- Phone : (970) 476-1000
● Water Purification -- Phone : (800) 700-9878
● Whitewater Open Canoe Downriver National Championships -- Phone : (303)682-2674
● Wilderness Tours -- Phone : (800) 267-9166
Paddling Schools
● Adventure Quest -- Phone : (802) 484-3939
● Bear Paw Outdoor Adventure Resort -- Phone : (715) 882-3502
● Canyon Canoeing Adventures -- Phone : (888) 99-CANOE
● Endless River Adventures -- Phone : (704) 488-6199
● Four Corners Paddle School -- Phone : (800) 426-7637
● Jackson Hole Kayak School -- Phone : (800) 733-2471
● Kayak and Canoe Institute
● Madawaska Kanu Centre -- Phone : (613) 756-3620
● Mountain and River Adventures -- Phone : (800) 861-6553
● Nantahala Outdoor Center -- Phone : (888) 662-1662
● New England Outdoor Center -- Phone : (800) 766-7238
● Otter Bar Kayak School -- Phone : (530) 462-4772
● Riversport School of Paddling -- Phone : (800) 216-6991
● Rocky Mountain Outdoor Center -- Phone : (800) 255-5784
● Snake River Kayak School -- Phone : (800) 529-2502
● Sundance River Center -- Phone : (888) 777-7557
● Upward Enterprises Adventure Programs -- Phone : (240) 632-9840
● Wilderness Medical Associates -- Phone : (888) WILDMED
● Zoar Outdoor Paddling School -- Phone : (800) 532-7483
Paddling Shops
● Appalacian Outfitters -- Phone : (703) 281-4324
● Backdoor Sports -- Phone : (970) 879-6249
● Canadian Recreational Canoeing Association -- Phone : (888) 252-6292
● Eddyline Watersports Center -- Phone : (360) 293-7443
● Go With The Flow Sports, INC -- Phone : (888) 345-FLOW
● Indian River Marine Sales -- Phone : (800) 881-7403
● Liquid Moon Outfitters -- Phone : (973) 727-6863
● Mountain Quest Sports -- Phone : (970) 926-3867
● Tahoe City Kayak Shop -- Phone : (530) 581-4336
● Zoar Outdoor -- Phone : (800) 532-7483
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Current Issue
CALENDAR•OF•EVENTS
Back Issues
Buyer's Guide 2000 View Month : September, 2000 go
Subscribe to Paddler
Become a Discipline Filter : Show All
Paddler Retailer
River Flows
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA September, 2000
1-4 Ottawa River Whitewater Festival & Whitewater Challenge Raft Race - Bryson,
Quebec
(800) 267-9166
1-4 Ottowa River Whitewater Rodeo - Bryson, Quebec
(416) 222-2223
2-3 The Cruising Class National Championships, Lake Sebago - Sloatsburg, NY
(516) 623-4593
2-4 "Don't Call This a Festival River Rendezvous" - Belfort, NY
(315) 652-8397
2-4 4th Annual Moonstone Beach Kayak Surf Festival - Crescent City, CA
(707) 839-3328
2-4 Kootenay Rodeo - Castlegar, BC
(250) 362-2128
2-4 Riversport Slalom & Whitewater Race - Confluence, PA
(800) 216-6991
8 - 10 Adirondack Canoe Classic - Saranac Lake, NY
(800) 347-1992
9 Permagrin's 4th Annual Kayak Fiesta & River Cleanup - Lower Salt River, AZ
(480) 755-1924
9 Survival Products Canoe & Kayak Rumble - Laurel, DE
(410) 543-1244
9 Survival Products Ladies Only Poker Paddle - Laurel, DE
(410) 543-1244
9 - 10 American River Festival - Placerville, CA
(530) 626-3435
9 - 10 Ocean City Kayak Surf Festival - Ocean City, NJ
(609) 728-0171/(856) 468-1342
9 - 10 Outer Banks Surf Kayak Festival - Nags Head, NC
(252) 441-2756
9 - 10 Wild River PaddleFest Symposium - Virginia Beach, VA
(877) 431-8566 , www.wildriveroutfitters.com
16 "Paddle the Bay" Race Series, We Rows for Rose - Narragansett Bay, RI
(401) 847-4242
16 23rd Annual Wood River Race - Marathon - Hopkinton, RI
(401) 725-3344
September, 2000
16 Gauley River Festival - Summersville, WV
(914) 586-2355
16 MCA Annual Picnic - Minnesota Canoe Association,
(612) 560-0870
16 Peter Talarski Memorial Poling Day - Pleasant Valley, CT
(860) 442-1170
17 - 20 Olympic Games, Slalom Event - Sydney, Australia
(518) 523-1855
22 - 24 Lainer Paddlefest - Gainsville, GA
(770) 287-7888
23 Annual Twin Cities Sea Kayaking Assoc. Race & Roll Event - Minneapolis, MN
(612) 585-6191
23 - 24 25th Annual Outdoorsman Triathalon (Nation's Oldest) - Bryson City, NC
(540) 752-5400
23 - 24 Oregon River Sports Redsides Rodeo - , OR
(541) 334-0696 , www.oregonriversports.com
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Up in Flames 08/28/2000
by Tom Bie
Twenty-one of 29 buildings were lost at Pistol Creek Ranch on Idaho's Main Salmon River Saturday as more
fires decimated the Northern Rockes. Currently, 65 Idaho river outfitters have been forced to cease operations
because of fire closures. read >
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2. Age:
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About Paddling
7. How long have you been paddling:
Rookie, first year
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over 10 years
8. Rate your skill level:
Beginner
Intermediate
Advanced
Expert
9. How many days do paddle per year:
1-10
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40 plus
10. Check all that you use:
Canoe
Inflatable
Whitewater kayak
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Sit-on-top
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Sit on top
12. How many boats have you purchased in the last 24 months:
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2
3
over 3
none
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Wine Bourbon
Gin Whiskey
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3 years
38. In addition to yourself, how many people read your issue of Paddler:
none 3
1 4
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result of reading Paddler?
Sent for information about advertised products or services
Wrote, used an 800 number, or phoned a company for more information
Discussed or suggested use of advertised product or service with others
Recommended, specified, or purchased an advertised product or service
40. Check the area you would like to see more coverage on:
Flat water canoeing Whitewater canoeing
Whitewater kayaking Sea kayaking
Surf kayaking Inflatables
Sit-on-tops
41. And finally how much time do you spend on the web:
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over 4 hours a week
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Current Issue
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Subscribe to Paddler
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Paddler Retailer
River Flows
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
Sept/Oct 2000
Volume 20 • Issue No. 5
Features
Three Days of Pandemonium
There's no celebration quite like West Virginia's annual Gauley Fest, where
raging days on the water are matched only by the raging parties that follow.
Sometimes you forget just how much there is to love about paddling. So
we're here to remind you. From sunsets to sidesurfing, here's 100 points to
ponder
Hotline
Expedition News
Destinations
Paw Power
Gear
Heritage Kayaks' Tandem
Eskimo's Quadro
Dagger's Aftershock
Skills
How to Read the Bad Holes
Olympic Preview
A Preview of the Coming Games
Every four years, patriotic paddlers turn their attention to this most
competitve side of our sport. Here are the people, the politics and the
predictions for the coming Olympic season.
Whether you're in a canoe, kayak or raft, casting on the water isn't the same as casting from shore.
Here are some tips to help you do it right.
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Current Issue
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Buyer's Guide 2000
Index
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Paddler Retailer
River Flows Canoes
Bulletin Boards
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Inflatables
Paddles
PFDs
Touring Kayaks
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Current Issue
RIVER•FLOWS
Back Issues
Buyer's Guide 2000 NOTE: All following links leave the Paddler Magazine web site.
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Paddler Retailer
This is the best source for straight up river stats and flow data.
River Flows
Bulletin Boards http://water.usgs.gov/realtime.html
Go to the ACA
More river info and links to come.
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Whitewater
BoaterTalk
WORDS TO LIVE BY #1:
MountainBuzz USENET AS SOCIETY
--------------------
NPMB
Those who have never tried electronic communication may not be aware
Squirt of what a "social skill" really is. One social skill that must be
Angst
learned, is that other people have points of view that are not only
different, but *threatening*, to your own. In turn, your opinions may
Touring
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beliefs need not be hidden behind a facade, as happens with
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Paddler
-- Nick Szabo
General
RBP WORDS TO LIVE BY #2:
USENET AS ANARCHY
--------------------
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Anarchy means having to put up with things that really piss you off.
-- Unknown
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NOTE: To be entered into the contest, you must complete the entire survey.
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Yes
No
2. Age:
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19-25
26-30
31-40
41 & over
3. Sex:
M
F
4. Marital Status:
Married
Single
5. Income:
10k-25k
25k-50k
50k-75k
75k & over
6. Check highest level completed:
High school
College
Post Secondary
Middle School
About Paddling
7. How long have you been paddling:
Rookie, first year
1-3 years
3-5 years
5-10 years
over 10 years
8. Rate your skill level:
Beginner
Intermediate
Advanced
Expert
9. How many days do paddle per year:
1-10
11-25
26-40
40 plus
10. Check all that you use:
Canoe
Inflatable
Whitewater kayak
Sea kayak
Sit-on-top
11. Check all that you own:
Canoe
Inflatable
Whitewater kayak
Sea kayak
Sit on top
12. How many boats have you purchased in the last 24 months:
1
2
3
over 3
none
13. Check which you plan to buy in the next 24 months:
Canoe Sea kayak
Inflatable Sit-on-top
Whitewater kayak None
Travel
20. Where did you paddle in the last 12 months:
West North East
Rockies Midwest
South East Canada
Automotive
25. Will you or anyone in your house buy or lease a new vehicle in the next 24
months:
Yes
No
Don’t own or lease
26. What type of vehicle do you plan on buying in the next 24 months:
Subcompact car Full size SUV
Full size pickup truck Compact pick-up truck
Luxury car Van or Mini-Van
Consumer Electronics
27. Check all that you own:
CD player
Laptop
DVD player
Camcorder
DAT
Video Games
CDR
Consumption
29. What types of alcoholic beverages do you prefer:
Don’t Drink Rum
Domestic Beer Tequila
Imported Beer Vodka
Wine Bourbon
Gin Whiskey
Readership questions
35. How long have you subscribed to Paddler magazine:
1 year 4 years
2 years 5 years or more
3 years
38. In addition to yourself, how many people read your issue of Paddler:
none 3
1 4
2 5 or more
39. Which of the following actions did you take in the last 12 months as a
result of reading Paddler?
Sent for information about advertised products or services
Wrote, used an 800 number, or phoned a company for more information
Discussed or suggested use of advertised product or service with others
Recommended, specified, or purchased an advertised product or service
40. Check the area you would like to see more coverage on:
Flat water canoeing Whitewater canoeing
Whitewater kayaking Sea kayaking
Surf kayaking Inflatables
Sit-on-tops
41. And finally how much time do you spend on the web:
1 hour a week
4 hours a week
2 hours a week
over 4 hours a week
3 hours a week
Any comments
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Current Issue
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Buyer's Guide 2000
Canoes
Subscribe to Paddler
Become a It's the first boat most of us ever paddled—with
Paddler Retailer mom and dad, an older brother, or a friend at
River Flows summer camp. Still, how do you buy one? Test
Bulletin Boards driving a few models is always a smart idea and
Go to the ACA plenty of multi-purpose canoes exist, enabling
you to buy one for a variety of occasions. Decide
on a solo or tandem model and look for a boat
that can carry the load you'll be hauling. Once
your paddling needs have been defined, look for
boats that meet these qualifications and that fall
within your price range. Have some friends who
own a canoe? Ask what they like or don't like
about their model, and see if you can borrow it
for an afternoon. Browse the Internet. Best of all,
check your local paddling shop for information
on the latest models and materials. They'll be
glad to help.
length(l): Overall length of the hull, in feet. In general, if you take two hulls of similar
overall design, the longer of the two will be the faster. Wetted water line is another
measurement affecting speed; contact the manufac- turer for details.
Beam (W): Width, in inches, at the widest point of the boat at the rails (maximum
beam). A boat with tumble-home will be wider below the rails. Width affects the boats
primary and secondary (reserve) stability.
depth (d): Depth, in inches, from the rails to the bottom of the hull, measured in the
middle of the boat (midships). Depth is also measured in the bow and stern but is not
reported here. Loaded Draft is how much of the boat is in the water when it's laden;
subtract this from depth and you get freeboard, which tells you how much boat sits
above water. These measurements factor into the type of water and weather
conditions you will paddle.
Buyer's Guide
burden (brdn): Maximum weight capacity for performance, includ- ing paddler and
2000 gear, recommended by the manufacturer.
• Canoes
Weight (WT): Finished weight of the boat in pounds. Weight is a function of material
• Helmets and construction and is directly related to the function of the canoe.
• Inflatables
• Paddles hull shape: The shape of a canoe's hull determines how it will paddle. In general, hull
• PFDs shape labels like shallow arch and shallow vee don't mean much, because all design
• Sit -On-Top Kayaks features are relative. Hull shapes have been refined and developed over hundreds (if
not thousands) of years, so spend time paddling different models. A half-inch more or
• Touring Kayaks
less in the right (or wrong) spot can turn a rocket ship into a pig, and an inch of rocker
• White Water Kayaks added or taken away can make a lot of difference in turning or surfing.
Return to the rocker: The curvature of the hull as seen from the side when the boat is sitting on a flat
Buyer's Guide Index
surface. Rocker helps a boat to turn, but moderate rocker doesn't greatly reduce
lateral resistance at the ends of a boat. And lateral resistance is only one factor of a
Go to the Canoe boat's ability to turn. The center of lateral resistance moves back and forth as the boat
Product Sheet moves. The shape of the hull itself can aid or hinder turning. A boat with very slight
(130K) rocker begun at the center of buoyancy and carried to the ends turns differently than
does a boat with more extreme rocker started near the ends. Rocker is actually difficult
to measure and should be correlated to the hull cross section and waterline area, also
hard to define numerically.
material (mtl): Canoes are built from a wide array of materials, from aluminum to
carbon fiber. Fiberglass is either hand-laid in layers of fabric, or the laminate "stack" is
wet out and vacuum-bagged. Royalex is a proprietary material commonly used in the
construction of canoes consisting of an ABS foam core sandwiched between sheets of
ABS plastic, and covered with a vinyl skin on both sides. The material is then
thermoformed into a hull. Rotomolded polyethylene and foam, a process often called
"triple dump" molding, is done by dumping polyethylene powder into a heated mold
that's rotated and rocked. After the powder is melted and distributed, a foaming agent
is added to the next dump of powdered resin, to create a lighter core of what might
best be called expanded polyethylene. A third dump of resin forms a protective skin
over the foam. Polyethylene is also used to create durable hulls.
Wood strip canoes, or strippers, are built with ribs bent over a hull form, and planks
(usually cedar) fastened to them with clinch nails. Wood frame and canvas or synthetic
skin hulls are also built on a rib frame and forms and then tricked out with thwarts and
inwales, and covered with fabric that gets finished with filler (if canvas) or resin (if
composite). Frame and skin are also found in folding craft, usually with aluminum
frames and synthetic skin, and occasionally appear as ultralight geodesic frames with
Dacron or Mylar skins.
E-Glass: Resistant to compression and abrasion. Not especially strong under tension
and can be heavy due to high absorption of resin. Often used in outer layers of
composites. Traditional "fiberglass."
Kevlar: Synthetic fiber with resistance to tension and shock, not especially resistant to
compression and abrasion. Used in bulletproof vests and auto racing and paddling
helmets, also on inner layers and complete constructions of boats.
Carbon Fiber: A rigid fiber with high tensile strength. Used as a stiffening layer or for
reinforcement.
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Helmets
Subscribe to Paddler
Become a Many an inverted paddler has felt the telltale
Paddler Retailer bonk, bonk, bonk when bottom of river meets top
River Flows of head. And though it may not be the most
Bulletin Boards glorious piece of equipment you own, whitewater
Go to the ACA paddlers know that a good brain bucket is the
second most crucial piece of equipment, next to
a PFD. The good news is that many modern
helmets are both stylish and safe, and have
become as specialized as boat designs. Comfort
and style are important, but top priority should go
to picking one that fits firmly on your
decision-maker. Go big, go small, go old school
or go new school, just remember to go safely.
fit: Comfort and fit are important considerations for headwear because you need to
have a secure lid with unrestricted movement and vision. The force of a hydraulic can
rip your helmet off if it is not secure. A loose helmet can also be dangerous. Fit is
accomplished with interior padding and the suspension system.
Suspension systems vary as much as helmet styles. The most effective systems are
Buyer's Guide four-point with polypro webbing. These are generally four-way adjustable with a
Fastex buckle and offer the best fit and adjustment. Less adequate suspension
2000 systems feature everything from two-point adjustability with webbing and buckles to
• Canoes plastic straps and snap buckles. Look for stainless steel hardware. You should also be
• Helmets able to adjust your helmet with cold hands, and make sure the straps do not irritate
• Inflatables your chin or eyewear.
• Paddles material: Helmets are available in a variety of plastics and composites. Many extreme
• PFDs coverage helmets are made of polyethylene, while recreational rafting helmets are
• Sit -On-Top Kayaks generally polyurethane. Plastic helmets generally offer better coverage and better
• Touring Kayaks drainage than composite helmets, but they are not as strong. If you want to keep it
• White Water Kayaks simple and affordable, go with one of the plastic helmets offered from the
manufacturers listed below. For something with more flare and bombproof protection,
Return to the look into composite construction. These modern “glass” helmets are constructed from
Buyer's Guide Index fiberglass, carbon and Kevlar in proprietary lay-ups with custom colors and graphics.
Some of the molds are pretty wild, so choose one that fits your paddling style. Look for
Go to the Helmets adjustability, fit, coverage and craftsmanship. Composite helmets can be lighter or
Product List heavier than plastic depending on lay-up, but they are designed to take harder hits.
cost: Recreational rafters and canoeists should plan to spend $16 to $50 per helmet.
Kayakers who ply Class III-V waters should spend anywhere from $40 to $140 for a
good helmet.
B & A Distributing
201 SE Oak St., Portland, OR 97214; (503) 230-0482,
Fax (503) 230-0484
Two economical, universal sized rafting helmets. One open-ear model and one
full-coverage model. Both feature our patented, adjustable headband. One size fits all.
Colors: blue, yellow, red, and white.
Orosi
849 Pickens Industrial Dr., Ste. 16, Marietta, GA 30062;
(770) 792-8484, Fax (770) 792-8586, www.orosi.com
Orosi's helmets are constructed using a pressure-molded carbon fiber and
carbon/kevlar shell. They feature a cross linked polyethylene foam which not only has
tremendous shock absorbing capabilities, but also provides the user with a liner that
won't "pack out" like traditional mini-cell foam. The liner is stamped with a very
comfortable anti-microbial spandex/cordura blend. The helmets have fully adjustable
side locks and ergonomic buckles for the most comfortable fit yet. All webbing are
doubled over and heat sealed to ensure a bomb proof attachment to the rivets. New
colors for 2000 - Chrome plated, zig zag carbon with dyed s-glass. Check it out!
Riot Kayaks
3700 St. Patrick Ste. 109, Door 20, Montreal, QB H4E 1A2;
(514) 931-0366, Fax (514) 931-4421, www.riotkayaks.com
SEDA
P.O. Box 997, Chula Vista, CA 92012; (619) 336-2444, www.sedakayaks.com
Unique SEDA plastic and composite helmets. Call for details.
Sport Helmets
900 Old Liverpool Rd., Liverpool, NY 13088; (800) 537-1702, www.sporthelmets.com
Cascade delivers the function and features paddlers have been looking for. Full ear
and Shortie cut available. Masks and chin bars also available. Call for the 411.
HOME
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Buyer's Guide 2000
Inflatables
Subscribe to Paddler
Become a We know, we know.
Paddler Retailer “Inflatables” is an annoying
River Flows term. It sounds too much like
Bulletin Boards the little yellow ducky you had
Go to the ACA as a kid or the blow-up doll
you got your boss for his
retirement party. But there
are just so many now: rafts,
catarafts, inflatable canoes,
inflatable whitewater kayaks
and inflatable touring kayaks.
All are watercraft that must be
filled with air before they float.
The first step is deciding what
you need the boat to do. Will
it be a nimble paddle cat for
Class IV-V wilderness whitewater? Or will it be used as an oar rig for hauling gear on a
multi-day excursion? Will you want to use it as a paddle raft? Do you need a cataraft,
a conventional raft or a two-person inflatable? Or do you want to surf and play in a
shorter, solo inflatable kayak? Answer these questions and you’re well on your way to
picking your craft.
rafts & catarafts: Rafts are a configuration of tube chambers and a floor. Catarafts
consist of two tubes attached with a frame between them, and are popular among river
runners, safety boaters, and fishermen. Because they don’t have a floor, they’re lighter
and more maneuverable than conventional rafts. They can also carry a substantial
amount of gear but are more cumbersome for carrying people.
frames: Create your own frame or have one built to meet your boat’s dimensions. You
can get a good deal and a good fit by buying a frame from the dealer where you
purchase your boat. Most raft builders offer rowing frames designed around
specific-sized tubes. The same holds true for catarafts.
floors: (flr) Floors are either conventional (TUB or STD) or self-bailing (SB). Tub floor
boats are less expensive but may restrict where you take your craft. A self-bailing floor
is like a heavy-duty air mattress laced into tabs on the tubes above the waterline,
permitting water that comes in over the side to drain out again. Self-bailers have either
I-beam or drop-stitch floors. Drop-stitch floors are flat, allowing the boat to slide over
rocks, spin and draw sideways easier. Flat floors also tend to be better in tight,
technical water and make it easier to rig gear and install foot cups. I-Beam floors
Buyer's Guide feature parallel ridges, are less expensive and improve tracking. Consider whether the
floor is glued or laced-in. Glued floors offer a little more room for passengers and gear.
2000 Laced-in floors are more expensive, drain faster and are easier to take out if they need
• Canoes repair.
• Helmets
capacity: (cpty) Number of people (or amount of weight) the craft can accommodate.
• Inflatables In some cases simply a measure of elbowroom.
• Paddles
• PFDs number of chambers: Number of air chambers built into the craft, including thwarts and
• Sit -On-Top Kayaks floor. This varies by size of the craft and between manufacturers’ styles.
• Touring Kayaks
diameter: (dia) Diameter of tubes in inches.
• White Water Kayaks
materials: (mtl) Materials in inflatables involve some type of base fabric with a coating.
Return to the Coating determines the boat’s air retention and abrasion and UV resistance, and a
Buyer's Guide Index
boat’s material is usually referred to by its coating. Base fabric is usually nylon or
polyester and determines tear strength and puncture resistance. Some rafts are made
Go to the from a poly-vinyl chloride (PVC). Some companies even use a separate aircell with a
Inflatables watertight skin. Hypalon is a proven abrasion- and UV-resistant material that tends to
Product Sheet be less expensive—and slightly heavier—than other materials, and it rolls up well.
Look at the fabric’s denier rating—the weight, in grams, of 9,000 meters of yarn.
However, denier alone doesn’t determine the tightness of the weave or the tear or
burst strength of the fabric. Type, size and weave of fabrics vary, and be aware that
not all Hypalon, PVC or urethane boats are alike. Material from each manufacturer is a
little different.
heat welded or glue seams: Neoprene, Hypalon and EPDM seams must be glued,
making them labor intensive and generally more expensive. Urethane and PVC rafts
can be heat-welded, making them machine intensive. Most imported rafts tend to be
glued; domestic rafts are generally heat-welded. Heat-welded seams are often
stronger and longer lasting, but are harder to repair, especially on the river. A glued
seam can be easily re-glued at camp.
HOME
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Current Issue
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Buyer's Guide 2000
Paddles
Subscribe to Paddler
Become a Your kayak paddle is the only part of your
Paddler Retailer equipment you don’t wear. You use it to get the
River Flows job done—whether it’s catching an eddy, surfing
Bulletin Boards a wave or approaching a campsite—so make
Go to the ACA sure it feels comfortable, weighs the right
amount and includes the kind of craftsmanship
you expect for your money.
kayak paddles: Whitewater paddlers seek durability followed by lightness and blade
strength. Many of this year’s whitewater paddles are standard with 45- to 60- degree
feathering (offset), a far cry from the 90-degree standards of yesteryear. Advanced
whitewater buffs are going shorter, and paddlers may want to look into new lines of
ergonomic, bent-shaft paddles, said to increase comfort and control in such
applications as freestyle hole riding and stroke efficiency in slalom.
Buyer's Guide size: Shaft length to paddler height ratio is the most important factor in paddle sizing,
followed by blade size, which helps determine stroke strength and power.
2000
• Canoes Whitewater kayak paddles are generally between 195 and 206 cm long, though
freestyle rodeo paddlers are going even shorter. Touring paddlers prefer lengths
• Helmets between 210 and 230 cm. Sizing a canoe paddle involves assessing trip length, style
• Inflatables of paddling and personal preference. Most paddlers use a 54- to 58-inch straight shaft
• Paddles for general cruising and touring. Whitewater paddles are longer for power and surfing.
• PFDs Make sure the whole blade reaches into the water when you’re seated or kneeling in
• Sit -On-Top Kayaks the normal paddling position. As a general rule oars and paddles: torso length plus
• Touring Kayaks seat height, minus draft, equals shaft length. The blade should enter the water at the
throat while in normal paddling position, so account for blade length when sizing a
• White Water Kayaks
paddle. Bent shaft paddles are proportionately about four inches shorter than straight
Return to the
shaft canoe paddles, measuring between 48 and 56 inches. Hold the paddle upside
Buyer's Guide Index down while seated with the grip between your legs—the bend should hit you right on
the nose.
Go to the Paddles
material: Paddle materials include wood, composites, plastic and aluminum. Wood is
Product List
enjoyed for its beauty, lightness, flex, warmth, and hopefully, shaft strength. Look for
solid workmanship—joints should be smooth with no odd knots or pinholes. Go with an
established and well-known paddle manufacturer to ensure your money is well spent.
Quality of the wood, grain matches and types of epoxies used are hard to detect. For
whitewater, composite reinforcement, veneers, hard woods and metal tips all add life
to a wood paddle.
Synthetic paddles are strong and durable, with shafts and blades made from a host of
materials including aluminum and plastic, carbon, graphite, Kevlar and other
composites. Recreational paddlers may be better off with aluminum/plastic or
fiberglass, for strength and affordability. Carbon and graphite paddles are lighter and
stiffer, but also more brittle. Fiberglass shafts work especially well with their flex and
durability, and all-fiberglass construction now affords strong, mid-range whitewater
paddles. Carbon/fiberglass blends also are well suited for whitewater with their
strength and light weight. Graphite paddles are stiff and light and are often reserved
for racing.
The balance between weight, strength and durability is a question of purpose, as well
as builders’ opinions about materials, lay-ups and costs. Heavier paddles are often
stronger; lighter paddles take less energy to swing but may sacrifice durability. And,
like a high-quality Kevlar boat, lighter usually means more expensive. All paddles have
a distinct feel—a combination of flex, swing weight and shaft diameter. In the store,
hold the paddle and move it around as if you were paddling. Stop abruptly and feel the
paddle’s flex and swing weight. Paddles should be balanced, have a comfortable grip
with adequate indexing, and consistent flex through the shaft and blades.
oars: Whether you’re taking an inflatable gear boat down the Grand Canyon, a cataraft
down the American, or a wooden dory on an afternoon fishing trip, the important thing
is to get a set of oars that fit the frame of your boat—and the frame of your body. Oars
are made of everything from wood, to carbon and composite combinations, to
polyethylene and aluminum. Look for solid construction, durable blades and good
handles. Base oar length and material on what type of rowing you intend to do. (See
“A New Oar Deal,” Paddler Magazine Oct. 98)
cost: Prepare to spend anywhere from $80 to $300 for a good kayak paddle and $50
to $150 for an above average canoe paddle. Oars range from $80 to $200 per oar.
Ainsworth
P.O. Box 207, Norwich, VT 05055; (800) 688-3792, Fax (802) 649-2254,
www.ainsworthpaddles.com
Leaders in RIM (Reaction Injection Molding) technology. Manufacturer of canoe and
kayak paddles. Economical paddles that take REAL wear and tear!
American Traders
627 Barton Road, Greenfield, MA 01301, (413) 773-9631, Fax (413) 774-2660
Wholesale and retail sales of Wood/Epoxy, Wood/Canvas, Fiberglass and Kevlar
canoes. Choose from over 30 models. Paddles, Kayak paddles, canoe accessories,
and unique canoe furniture. Call for full color brochures.
Aqua-Bound Technology
19077 95A Ave., Surrey, BC V4N 3P9 CN; U.S. Office: PO Box 159, 1160 Yew Ave.,
Blaine, WA 98230; (604) 882-2052, Fax (604) 882-9988, www.aquabound.com
Aqua-Bound's innovative AMT manufacturing process provides a superior method of
molding kayak paddles. These paddles are more durable and tougher than fiberglass.
Backlund Paddles
26115 Clarksburg Rd., Clarksburg, MD 20871; (301) 253-4947,
www.backlundpaddles@juno.com
Premier laminated wood paddles with selective composite reinforcing. A wide range of
designs are handcrafted for every type of paddlesports. Stick with Backlund!
Bending Branches
812 Prospect Ct., Osceola, WI 54020; (715) 755-3405,
Fax (715) 755-3406, www.bendingbranches.com
A leader in both wood and composite paddles by providing the paddlesport industry
with innovative technology, craftmanship and quality customer service. Feel the
difference.
Boreal Design
108 Amsterdam, Ind. Park, St. Augustin, QB G3A 1V9 CN; (418) 878-3099, Fax (418)
878-3459,
www.borealde@quebectel.com,
borealde@globetrotter.com
Manufacturer of sea kayaks, paddles and accessories. Each design incorporates a
high degree of comfort with spacious hatches and cockpits; vacuum-bagged
construction, and tremendous attention to detail.
Carlisle Paddles
P.O. Box 488, Grayling, MI 49738; (800) 258-0290, (517) 348-9886, Fax (517)
348-8242
The recognized industry leader for canoe paddles, kayak paddles, boat oars and
whitewater raft oars. Unexcelled design, performance and value. Imitated but never
equaled.
Cricket Paddles
17530 W. Hwy. 50-Maysville, Salida, CO 81201; (800) 243-0586, (719) 539-5010,
www.cricketd@csn.net
For beauty, performance, quality and true personalized service in unique
laminated-wood paddles, call the owners, Mike & Pat Jones, to discuss your very own
name-imprinted paddle. Cricket Ñ the official ACA Life Member Canoe/Kayak Paddles.
Current Designs
10124 McDonald Park Road, Sidney, BC V8L 5X6 CN; (250) 655-1822, Fax (250)
655-1596, www.cdkayak.com
Current Designs offers four different styles of touring paddles, each with a different
feel and purpose, all handcrafted using vacuum-bag construction. Graphite paddles
are the ultimate in lightness and provide the ultimate in performance. The new
ergonomic graphite "Bent Shaft" paddle is ergonomically correct and will make
paddling less stressful on the body.
Epic Paddles
6657 58th Ave. NE, Seattle, WA 98115;
(206) 523-6306, Fax (206) 524-4888, www.epicpaddles.com
Paddles for touring and racing designed by Olympic Champion Greg Barton. Epic
Paddles are sleek and super lightweight, including new wing paddle designs and our
Length-lock adjustable take apart system.
Ibis Paddles
906 S. Grandview St., Mt. Dora, FL 32757; (352) 383-6446
Ibis Paddles are custom handcrafted S-blade paddles. Laminated blade and shaft,
fiberglass on the blade. Two models: 3.5 degree S-blade; and 14 degree S-Blade.
Impex International
P.O.Box 650, Asheville, NY 28802; (820) 299-1523,
Fax (820) 299-1567, www.impexkayak.com
Impex is the complete kayak supplier with a wide range of paddles, whitewater kayaks
and sea kayaks.
L.L. Bean
Casco St., Freeport, ME 04033; (800) 809-7057, www.llbean.com
Top quality apparel and gear for outdoor adventures including paddling, hiking,
backpacking, camping and cycling. 100 percent satisfaction guaranteed.
Lightning Paddles
22800 South Unger Rd., Colton, OR 97017; (503) 824-2938,
Fax (503) 824-6960, lightning@paddles.com
Lightning's whitewater and sea kayak paddles speak for themselves. Simply the
lightest, toughest paddles available...period. Write or call for more information.
Mid-Canada Fiberglass
P.O. Box 1599, New Liskeard, ON P0J 1P0 CN; (705) 647-6549, Fax (705) 647-6698,
www.midcanscottcanoe.com
Teal paddles have proven to be reliable, durable and efficient one-piece hardwood
paddles. Moderately priced, Teal paddles are a hit with outfitters and retailers alike.
They withstand rugged abuse and will last a lifetime in a family recreation-paddling
situation.
Mitchell Paddles
RR 2, Box 922, Canaan, NH 03741; (603) 523-7004,
Fax (603) 523-7363, www.mitchellpaddles.com
Mitchell Paddles offers wood and wood composite paddles for people who want the
best in quality. Canoe and kayak paddles available for slalom, rodeo, touring, general
whitewater and outrigger.
Mohawk Paddles
963 CR 427 N., Longwood, FL 32750; (407) 834-3233,
Fax (407) 834-0292, www.mohawkcanoes.com
Mohawk Paddles are tough, light, and comfortable. Tapered blade for excellent
performance. Economically priced. Canoe paddles available in both straight and bent
shaft, kayak paddles in straight shaft only. Fast service.
Morley Canoes
P.O. Box 5147, Swan Lake, MT 59911; (406) 886-2242
Function and art merge to create tough, comfortable cedar strip canoes, kayaks and
skiffs as well as paddles and accessories of incredible beauty and performance.
Riot Kayaks
3700 St. Patrick Ste. 109, Door 20, Montreal, QB H4E 1A2; (514) 931-0366, Fax (514)
931-4421, www.riotkayaks.com
The Riot paddle is designed specifically for use with today's shorter kayaks. Blades
are reinforced nylon and are almost indestructible. That's great if you want to do rock
splats, rock spins, cartwheels in ledges and generally abuse yourself and your
equipment. Riot touring paddles also available: special plastic blades, light, strong and
cheap. Paddles available in straight and bent shafts.
SEDA Products
P.O. Box 997, Chula Vista, CA 92012; (619) 336-2444,
Fax (619) 336-2405, www.sedakayaks.com
SEDA Products offers a full line of fiberglass paddles for whitewater and touring.
Paddles are available in standard lay-up, epoxy, and an epoxy-Kevlar construction.
SEDA also offers three models of kayak paddles in plastic with aluminum shafts.
SEDA offers these choices in fiberglass, epoxy, Kevlar or plastic canoe paddles.
Seven 2
PO Box 2983, Salt Lake City, UT 84110; (801) 475-7200,
Fax: (801) 364-7201; www.seven2.com
The Seven 2 Paddle Design: Ergonomically correct grips relieve forearm fatigue and
maintain correct hand to blade powerface orientation. Reduced diameter shaft creates
a performance enhancing flex pattern. Foam core blades surface quicker for more
leverage and power. Carbon blade/carbon shaft-Retail $325. Glass blade/carbon
shaft-Retail $275. Call for info and dealer nearest you. Touring and whitewater
availbale.
Sport Helmets
900 Old Liverpool Rd., Liverpool, NY 13088; (800) 537-1702, Fax (315) 453-3762
New Cascade Endorfins Handpaddles are great for playboating or for a back up in
case of a broken or lost paddle; available in red or yellow.
Superior Kayaks
P.O. Box 355, Whitelaw, WI 54247; (920) 732-3784; skayaks@aol.com
Beautiful Greenland paddles are machine carved from a laminated pine assembly.
Strong, unfeathered, long narrow blades offer little resistance to wind. Each paddle is
custom carved. A very good working paddle for only $195.
Surfins Co.
2227 Drake SW #10A, Huntsville, AL 35805; (888) 882-2227, surfins@aol.com
Surfins: Great as a spare paddle for kayaks. Also: unique surfing moves can be done
with Surfins. Connect yourself to the water.
Viking Paddles
P.O. Box 1389, Rockville, MD 20849; (301) 838-3090,
Fax (301) 838-3138
Wood core with glass or carbon blades with aluminum tips, as well as fiberglass rope
edges. Glass or carbon oval shafts. Canoe, whitewater kayak, touring and racing.
Voyageur
P.O. Box 4339, Archale, NC 27263; (336) 434-7470,
Fax: (336)434-6912, www.youcanpaddle.com
Voyageur manufactures and distributes the industry's most complete line of canoeing
and kayaking accessories including Sidewinder whitewater and other quality paddles,
along with personal flotation devices, storage gear and apparel.
Werner Paddles
P.O. Box 1139, Sultan, WA 98294; (800) 275-3311,
Fax (360) 793-7343, info@wernerpaddles.com
Werner Paddles ... the ones you see on the water. WERNER PADDLES is the leading
manufacturer of quality kayak and canoe paddles in the world. We don't just build
lightweight kayak paddles, we build light, durable, well balanced paddles. We offer a
full line of performance paddles to enhance any paddling style. For more information
contact us @ 1-800-275-3311 or visit our website at www.wernerpaddles.com.
Whetstone
PO Box 727; West Union, SC 29615; (888) 544-9438 or (864) 886-9438,
Fax (864) 638-6287, www.kayakstore.com, e-mail: whetstone@kayakstore.com
Whetstone is a new company doing business differently. Making our own gear. Selling
it online. And keeping prices low. Paddles, spraydecks, technical clothing and more.
Guaranteed to perform. Click for yourself. www.kayakstore.com
Whitesell Canoes
14690 Hwy 19 W. Nantahala Gorge, Bryson City, NC 28713; (828) 488-2386,
www.white-water.com, canoe@white-water.com
Whitesell Canoes has set the standard for whitewater canoeing for 15 years. Our
canoes, and paddles, are custom made. All paddles have dynel sleeves and
glass-reinforced blades; available in three blade types: beavertail, oval and curved
(spoon) blade.
Woodstrip Watercraft
1818 Swamp Pike, Gilbertsville, PA 19525; (610) 326-9282
Paddles in traditional shapes of hardwoods (for canoes) or laminates (softwood
shaft/hardwood blade) for sea kayaks. All made to order: four styles canoe; three
styles kayak.
Zu Zu Paddle Company
P.O. Box 957, Flagstaff, AZ 86002; (520) 774-6535,
Fax (520) 779-9466, www.zuzupaddles.com
ZuZu's spliceless, hollow wood shafts are reinforced with a composite inner sleeve
making them the lightest, strongest wood paddles available. Superb craftsmanship
throughout.
HOME
TOP © Paddler Magazine, 2000
Current Issue
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Buyer's Guide 2000
Buyer's Guide 2000
PFDs
Subscribe to Paddler
Become a Your PFD is your lifeline,
Paddler Retailer plain and simple, and
River Flows hopefully there’s not one
Bulletin Boards among us who could imagine
Go to the ACA paddling without one. To do
so would be unwise and likely
illegal. Gone are the days
when you had to give up
every inch of your range of
motion, squeezing into one of
those orange numbers with a
headrest the size of your fax
machine. Style and comfort
have come to the lifejacket
world, with a variety of
models and sizes available for even the choosiest shopper. Regardless of fashion
concerns, buy one that fits and wear it always. You won’t be the only one glad that you
did.
flotation: PFDs are made with closed-cell foam and feature a flotation rating,
measured in pounds. This is a measure of how much flotation it takes to float your
body weight. The U.S. Coast Guard regulates PFDs, with five categories of flotation
aids.
Type I: Used on cruise ships and carry at least 35 pounds of flotation—making them
safe but cumbersome for paddling.
Type II: Go around the neck like a horse collar, also cumbersome for most paddling
but useful for rentals and recreation.
Type III: What most paddlers use because of streamlined fit (tube, panel or form-fit),
featuring at least 15.5 lbs. of flotation.
Type IV: All throwable flotation devices.
Type V: Recreational jackets for sailing and water skiing that don’t fit into the other
categories.
fit: Comfort and fit are the second biggest considerations after Coast Guard approval.
A vest has to fit in order to provide the wearer with the greatest advantage in the event
that he or she is separated from their boat. Children need children’s vests and large
people need large vests with plenty of flotation. If a jacket rubs your neck, restricts
movement, or bothers you in other ways, you might be less inclined to wear it. Buy
one that won’t get in the way of paddling—or swimming—motions. When trying on
PFDs, try them on over your paddling clothes, and if the vest is for kayaking, try it on
with a sprayskirt.
Buyer's Guide design: PFDs are either vest-style—fastened with zippers and/or buckles—or
pullover-style, and many models are niche-specific for the type of paddling you plan to
2000 do. Both styles work as long as they fit properly and the zippers and buckles are
• Canoes strong and easy to use. Pullovers are slightly more cumbersome to get on and off but
• Helmets offer increased range of motion and snugger fit. All PFDs should have a webbing belt
• Inflatables or drawstring at the waist. Again, choose a PFD based on the type of paddling you do,
and don’t let bells and whistles get in the way of comfort or function.
• Paddles
• PFDs
• Sit -On-Top Kayaks
Canoe Livery Products
• Touring Kayaks 9274 S. Ferris Ave., Grant, MI 49327; (616) 834-5559, www.canoe-equipment.com
• White Water Kayaks We manufacture duralux lifetime paddles, dry bags and float tubes. We distribute
custom life jackets for the rental industry and many canoe/kayak related items. Call for
Return to the catalog.
Buyer's Guide Index
Extrasport
Go to the PFDs 5305 NW 35th Ct., Miami, FL 33142; (800) 633-0837, Fax (305) 633-0637
Product List Extrasport USCG approved flotation: providing the latest design innovations. Setting
new standards of comfort, fit and function with unique, original stretch designs and the
sleekest shortest-waisted line in PFD's. With our Extrasport, Swiftwater and Hifloat
name brands we offer the most prolific line of specialized flotation available.
L.L. Bean
Casco St., Freeport, ME 04033; (800) 809-7057, www.llbean.com
Top quality apparel and gear for outdoor adventures including paddling, hiking,
backpacking, camping and cycling. 100 percent satisfaction guaranteed.
MTI
P.O. Box 1045, Watertown, MA 02272; (800) 783-4684
MTI was established in 1991 to help more and more watersports enthusiasts, from
novice to expert. Experience the adventure and natural beauty of our water planet
intimately, yet safely.
Palm / Harmony
Accessories Group
165 Dancer Drive, Easley, SC 29642, (800) 591-2282, www.harmonygear.com
Palm Equipment, known for Ògreat function and formÓ in Europe for years, is now
part of the Harmony Accessories Group! Palm provides technical excellence and
proven performance - to support your need to be confident and comfortable on the
water.
Riot Kayaks
3700 St. Patrick Ste. 109, Door 20, Montreal, QB H4E 1A2; (514) 931-0366, Fax (514)
931-4421, www.riotkayaks.com
SEDA Products
P.O. Box 997, Chula Vista, CA 92012; (619) 336-2444, Fax (619) 336-2405
SEDA has been manufacturing our USCG-approved lifevests since 1969. The Seda
lifevest is made with lightweight, pliable closed-cell polyethylene foam with memory for
a more comfortable fit. Adult lifevests available in four sizes and five colors. Seda
makes two life vests for children: the youth for 50-90 lbs. and the child for 30-50 lbs.
Stearns Inc.
P.O. Box 1498, St. Cloud, MN 56302; (320) 252-1642, Fax (320) 252-4425,
www.stearnsinc.com
Manufacturer of recreational PFDs for paddlesports and watersports activities. We
also manufacture inflatable kayaks, children's products, wetsuits and rainwear, dry
enclosures and SunShowers.
Stohlquist Waterware
P.O. Box 3059, 22495 US Hwy 285 S., Buena Vista, CO 81211; (800) 535-3565/(719)
395-2422, www.stohlquistwaterwear.com
Stohlquist's USGS-approved PFDs offer the latest in custom fitting, low-profile
construction, featuring the innovative "Grip Loc" system. Built-in, front & back non-slip
neoprene panels designed to bond with the Stohlquist "Grip" Drytop line, eliminating
unwanted vest ride-up. Shown: the "Brik" vest, the most nonrestrictive PFD available.
New for '99 - Ed Lucero Signature PFD - "Full On"! Rescue harness equipped, impact
tested vest for whitewater!
Voyageur
P.O. Box 4339, Archale, NC 27263; (336) 434-7470, Fax (336)434-6912,
www.youcanpaddle.com
Voyageur manufactures and distributes the industry's most complete line of canoeing
and kayaking accessories including Sidewinder whitewater and other quality paddles,
along with personal flotation devices, storage gear and apparel.
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Sea Kayaks
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Become a You sit on top, you fall off, you get back on
Paddler Retailer again. Therein lies the beauty of the sit-on-top.
River Flows They allow you to fish, snorkel, dive or just
Bulletin Boards paddle around. They are easy to use and
Go to the ACA comfortable to sit in. They allow your legs to tan.
But the finest attribute of sit-on-tops is their
ability to introduce people to the sport of
paddling in an incredibly user-friendly
environment. But don't rule them out if you want
to paddle whitewater– they can be a great craft
for Class I-III water, as long as you're willing to
give up a little performance in the process. A
great surfing or touring boat, sit-on-tops are
versatile and fun. Check one out.
Tourer (to): Tourers include sit-on-tops ranging from stable, recreational craft to highly
maneuverable and efficient touring kayaks designed for coastal exploration. The key
distinction between the tourer and the wave and surf ski is an ability to carry gear,
either in a closed hatch or depression in the hull. Sit-on-tops for touring come in solo
and tandem models in all shapes and sizes.
whitewater (ww): Whitewater sit-on-tops are a way to enjoy warm, Class I-III rivers.
Whitewater sit-on-tops are usually made of plastic to accommodate the rigors of river
running. Most also are at home on an ocean wave. They're fairly maneuverable and
fast, but not especially well suited for overnight trips. With practice and the right
outfitting (hip pads, thigh straps and backband), they are rollable. Closed cockpit surf
kayaks can be found in Whitewater Kayaks and under sit-on-tops with the designation
SK.
Other Usage Designations (USE): REC=casual or recreational; OC=outrigger canoe;
R=racing or competition; SP=special use,
Buyer's Guide
contact manufacturer for details; SCUBA=designed as a SCUBA and diving platform.
2000
• Canoes lenght (l): As with whitewater and sea kayaks, a longer sit-on-top will boast more hull
• Helmets speed than a shorter one. But inquire as to the boat's waterline—a more definitive
indicator of speed.
• Inflatables
• Paddles width (w): Width is the center beam width measured from the outside edges.
• PFDs
• Sit -On-Top Kayaks weight (wt): Weight is the finished weight of the craft from the manufacturer.
• Touring Kayaks material (mtl): Materials in sit-on-tops are similar to those used in whitewater kayaks.
• White Water Kayaks See the Materials explanation on page XX for a detailed explanation. Generally,
fiberglass and Kevlar are reserved for racing (as in surf skis for distance racing) and
Return to the surfing (as in wave skis and surf kayaks), while plastic is used in most recreational
Buyer's Guide Index
models.
Go to the Codes for materials: PE=polyethylene (CPE=crosslinked polyethylene;
Sea Kayaks SLP=super-linear polyethylene; LPE=linear polyethylene; HTP=high molecular weight
Product Sheet extruded polyethylene); PL=proprietary composite layup, CP=composite layup;
KV=Kevlar; FG=fiberglass; GR=graphite; CB=carbon fiber; PU=polyurethane.
Recommended Burden: Target weight range for the boat designated by the
manufacturer to achieve optimum performance.
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Tour Kayaks
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Become a Many buyers in the touring market find
Paddler Retailer themselves choosing between a sea kayak and
River Flows a canoe. While both have their strong points,
Bulletin Boards don't assume that a canoe automatically holds
Go to the ACA more gear. It may not. Sea kayaks are every bit
as efficient and offer one thing most canoes
don't: a covering over the deck offering
protection from the elements. They are the
perfect craft for those looking to spend evenings
on the lake, weekends touring to an overnight
camp, or weeks paddling deep into the
wilderness. They are fast, efficient, and fun to
paddle. Although most touring kayaks now come
with water-tight storage hatches, when shopping
don't forget to ask about such other accessories
as sails and rudders. Take a look at the whole
package to decide what's best for you.
length(l) & Beam (W): Length/width ratio is a good indication of potential speed, but
because hull design is so important, length becomes less important when traveling at
slower speeds. Just make sure the boat you buy is a size you can handle. In beginner
boats, wider means more stable. Deep V hull shapes and round hulls feel tippy, but as
you develop balance and skills these hull shapes become preferable for intermediate
and advanced paddlers. Wide, flat-bottomed hulls offer a great feeling of initial
stability, but tend to slam in rough conditions.
material; Refer back to the canoe and whitewater kayak introductions for a more
complete description of materials. As with those boats, for the most part, sea kayak
materials are broken down into composite, plastic, wood and skin-on-frame.
Fiberglass and Kevlar boats are lighter and faster but not as durable as plastic in the
long term. Exercise care loading and unloading them and avoid scraping boats against
rocks when paddling and landing. Plastic boats are heavier and also tend to scratch. If
and when it comes time to repair your boat, remember that fiberglass repair is
relatively easy; plastic requires cumbersome welding. As with whitewater kayaks,
Buyer's Guide plastic is divided into crosslinked and linear polyethylene, both used in rotomolding. A
2000 few companies utilize high molecular weight extruded polyethylene (HTP), used in
blowmolding. Wood sea kayaks are beautiful creations, much like owning a vintage
• Canoes automobile. They are either strip-built or made of plywood, and may be covered with
• Helmets fiberglass or epoxy. Folding boats are highly specialized and many are state of the art.
• Inflatables Frames are made with wood, plastics or metal, and are either shock-corded like a tent
• Paddles or feature delicate fittings. They are generally covered with a skin made from hypalon,
Cordura, nylon or canvas.
• PFDs
• Sit -On-Top Kayaks Codes for materials are: PE=polyethylene (LPE=linear polyethylene, SLP=super linear
• Touring Kayaks polyethylene, CPE=crosslinked polyethylene); HTP=high molecular weight extruded
• White Water Kayaks polyethylene; PP=polypropylene; PL=proprietary composite lay-up, CP=composite
lay-up; FRP=fiber-reinforced plastic; KV=Kevlar, FG=fiberglass, CB=carbon;
Return to the WF=wood frame; SF=skin on frame; WC=wood/canvas; W (WO)=wood;
Buyer's Guide Index WE=wood/epoxy.
Go to the cockpit: Cockpit length and width won't explain whether a boat will be a good fit or not.
Touring Kayaks You'll probably have to custom outfit the boat, making it more comfortable, a better
Product Sheet performer and more fun to paddle. For advanced paddlers in exposed conditions,
(90K) outfitting is just as important as in whitewater kayaks.
recommended burden: The target weight range the manufacturer has selected for a
boat to achieve optimum performance. This is not necessarily a maximum capacity—it
is a load rating that varies by manufacturer and should be considered a reference tool
only.
Folding or hardshell: If you plan on traveling, and if this traveling involves flying, a
folding kayak could be your best bet. Some hardshell kayaks exist that break down
into two, three and four pieces; and folding kayaks pack up into two duffel bags, one
for the frame and one for the material that goes over it. Both options let you pack your
boat as luggage. You don't lose much in handling, and storage and transport become
much easier. Folding and breakdown kayaks are generally more expensive than
hardshells, but you don't give up much in performance and they work great in most
conditions.
rudders: Tandem kayaks gen-erally come with a rudder system, controlled by the
sternsman. You may want to add a rudder if it isn't included in the package. Tandem
boats are challenging to turn even with the best sweep strokes. Rudders help solos
stay on course and aid somewhat in turning, but they also cut into hull speed. A
well-executed sweep stroke with a lean is more effective for singles than for tandems.
Skegs—which help hold a boat's course in rough conditions—are another option to
enhance your boat's tracking.
storage hatches: Hatches are necessary to access storage space that is sealed off by
a bulkhead, an option on most commercial models. Dry bags and flotation/storage
bags work well and for some people are easier to access while paddling. In addition to
storage, bulkheads provide buoyancy and displacement otherwise provided by
flotation bags fore and aft. Some manufacturers are adding handy "day hatches" that
let you store items right behind the cockpit. Deck storage is also important for pumps
or a paddle float–just make sure all items kept on deck are secure.
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Buyer's Guide 2000
White Water Kayaks
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Become a One look at your favorite local waterway is all it
Paddler Retailer takes to see where whitewater kayaking is going.
River Flows Most boats you see are now shorter, slicier and
Bulletin Boards more playful than ever, allowing users to perform
Go to the ACA acrobatic-type moves that previously only
occurred when you got worked in a hole.
outfitting: Customize your boat to fit your body. A thigh brace and hip pad system that
fits you is probably the most critical element of rolling and boat control. Use minicell
foam scraps or aftermarket fit kits and pads to get a secure fit for your hips, knees and
Buyer's Guide thighs.
2000 cockpit size: You won't see cockpit length and width measurements listed, as most
• Canoes manufacturers are using large keyhole cockpits on all models for ease of entry and
• Helmets exit. However, some slalom boats and other specialized models use medium and
• Inflatables standard keyhole cockpits. Sprayskirts are available to fit all cockpits, including C-1s.
• Paddles footing: Footpegs or Bulkheads? Discussions center around safety and comfort.
• PFDs Rental fleets are generally outfitted with micro-adjustable footpegs because they are
• Sit -On-Top Kayaks quicker to adjust, can be adjusted in smaller increments and give better access to
• Touring Kayaks installing bow floatbags. Some believe footpegs are safer in that they tend to break
• White Water Kayaks before your ankles in case of a piton. Others say bulkheads are safer because of
increased surface area; bulkheads are generally more comfortable, especially
Return to the barefoot. Some of the smaller playboats on the market have room for neither, instead
Buyer's Guide Index relying on the user to insert small pieces of foam.
Go to the hull shape: Chines are edges that are submerged when the boat is afloat under
White Water normal paddler weight. Hard chines help the boat carve when leaned. Rails are any
Kayaks edge of the boat at or above the waterline. Planing hulls are flat-bottoms designed to
Product Sheet help the craft surf, spin and maneuver. Round-bottom, or displacement hull, kayaks
are now seen more often in rental fleets and clinics—they're easier to roll and often
(35K)
have better secondary stability.
usage: What the model does best, or what the manufacturer designed it to do. The
following codes designate usage: PB=play boat; CR=creek boat; RD=rodeo boat;
SK=surf kayak, ski or boot; SL=slalom boat; SQ=squirt boat; DR=downriver or
wildwater boat; RR=general river runner.
lenght (l): overall length in feet. The kayak's waterline determines speed—the longer
the faster.
width (W): Width affects stability and overall volume and performance.
paddler weight range (pad wt): This statistic relates to a boat's optimum performance
range. Manufacturers have a good idea of what size paddler will most enjoy a certain
model. This does not mean you won't enjoy a boat whose recommended range
doesn't match your size; but it does mean a model may perform differently if you are
out of this range.
materials: Whitewater kayak materials are broken down into composites and plastics.
Most of today's boats are made of crosslinked-, linear- or high molecular weight
extruded (HTP) polyethylene. Rotomolding is often utilized for optimum strength.
Crosslinked is known to have good shape-retention and warp resistance, but is harder
to repair. Linear polyethylene is rigid, more easily repairable and recyclable.
High-density (Super) linear polyethylene is another strong plastic used. A few
companies use blowmolded HTP, which produces strong hulls with accompanying
weight increases; and another company has started using a new plastic called Xytec,
which it claims is lighter and strong. Fiberglass, carbon and Kevlar are generally
reserved for racing, competition and squirt boats. Composites are light and easily
repairable.
weight (WT): Total finished weight of the boat from the manufacturer.
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Buyer's Guide 2000
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Paddler Retailer
River Flows
Three Days of Pandemonium
An inside look at Gauley Fest, paddling's biggest bash
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
Eugene Buchanan
There's no eddying out. Rodeo paddler Aleta Miller is committed. Charging left, she
flails her arms wildly, dodging blows that come from all directions. Then, she catches
one out of nowhere, blindsiding her and knocking her off balance. "Don't tip over on
this one," she thinks. "Not now." Never before had she been in waters like this. All she
can do is roll with the punches. A collective roar rises from the crowd. Craning my
head around the referee, I glimpse Shannon Carroll delivering the coup de grace.
Aleta catches the haymaker square on the chin and stumbles back into the crowd.
Gauley Fest. In 14 years of western boating, I'd always heard about it, but it was
lifestyles away, rumors and stories filtering across the Mississippi. I'd heard about its
namesake river also: two sections, the Lower and Upper, each boasting some of the
best whitewater in the East. And I'd seen the poster—who hasn't?—with rafts
disappearing into fog percolating through massive boulders.
To experience the festival firsthand, a watery Woodstock showcasing the East's best
paddling and partying, I needed back-up, a partner who could score a hall pass and
who knew how to boat and cut loose—not necessarily in that order. Bruce Edgerly, a
long-time boating buddy from Boulder, Colo., took the bait. "That's exactly what
Sept/Oct 2000 Frequent Flier miles are for," he said when I popped the question.
• Features
The festival's prominence made itself known on the commuter flight from Washington
• Hotline Dulles to Charleston, W.V. "Hey Eugene," came a voice from a few rows back.
• Destinations "Heading to the Fest?" The voice, belonging to Dick DeChant, owner of California's
• Gear Hyside Inflatables, carried over the heads of even more people heading back East
• Skills from out West—the Teva crew, eight in all, who had just flown from Santa Barbara. On
• Olympic Preview a plane that sat 20, 12 were on their way to Gauley Fest.
• Special Fishing
Supplement Kyle, a former east coast tech rep for Teva, was a festival regular and he quickly clued
us in to local ways. Hurricane Floyd had missed the area, meaning it was still in
drought. Everything was dry but the Gauley and Upper Yough. He also advised us to
stick around for the annual Pimp n' Ho' Ball, held in an abandoned schoolhouse for
More from locals and other riffraff once the masses had departed. This year would be bigger than
Features normal as it would fall on a Monday—the last water release day—meaning hangovers
were fair game for Tuesday. As the plane's lights glowed on the landing strip, he
Three Days of
Pandemonium
offered one more piece of advice. "To avoid road blocks and check points, stay on the
main highway. It's the people who freak out and turn off onto the ramps who get
100 Things That Matter in caught." Rumors from the previous year had cops beefing-up their patrols and
Paddlesports stopping any car with kayaks on top. This year would even see a pair of cops put
kayaks on top of an unmarked car to blend in with the crowd.
Return to We needn't have worried. Picking us up at our Super 8 the next morning in a 4X4 van
Table of Contents with a 2X4 rack was Wayne Amsbary, a long-time Gauley video boater who grew up in
the area and schooled at Clemson. Joining him was Zip, whose long blond hair
matched Wayne's lock for lock. Our partners fit the profile of the typical attendee. Both
were dead broke, blowing off what work they did have to go paddling. Wayne blew off
video boating just to show us around. "I think the Upper Yough's going," he said over a
breakfast of grits and eggs at Shoney's. A quick call to Mountain Surf, located at the
take-out, confirmed the rumor and off we raced to beat the release. At Friendsville, we
parked behind two women in a Starrk Moon Kayaks van. "You guys heading to the
put-in?" Wayne asked. "Nope," they replied. "We're saving ourselves for the Gauley."
With only four days, we weren't saving ourselves for anything. We caught the main
group—and water release—about halfway down. At the take-out we ran into Mountain
Surf owner John Mason, who was packing his van for the Gauley. After a quick
beer—and a promise to boat together—we headed south to Summersville. Car after
car passed us on the highway, all topped with kayaks and all heading to the Nicholas
County Fairgrounds. "It looks like everyone's going to a Dead show," said Zip, who
looked like he knew what he was talking about.
That's what Gauley Fest is like—a Dead Show. Only instead of wearing tie-dyes,
everyone's in boating equipment, and instead of coming to see Jerry, they come to
paddle the Gauley. And it's comprised of groupies, people who plan their whole year
around a single event that isn't even based on a competition. Unlike other river
festivals, the only competition comes from fighting your way through the beer line,
vying for a dance partner or jockeying for position to surf a wave. Although the river
runs over six four-day weekends every fall, it's only during one of them that American
Whitewater (AW) converts the fairgrounds into the world's largest whitewater
party—one that would do Jerry proud.
Though it might seem lost in the mayhem, the event does have a cause. It was first
held in 1983 by a group of boaters rallying to block a hydro project on the river. Now
it's a fundraiser for other access issues. "At the first one everyone just circled up their
cars with music, beer and campstoves," said Risa Shimoda-Callaway, who has
attended all 16. "It was more seat-of-your-pants." But she admits to a reason behind
the debauchery: "There was a sense of urgency about protecting the river. Its releases
were threatened, and the event served as a platform to protect it. If people realize the
event helped save the Gauley, then it's serving its purpose."
Whatever its purpose—to raise money for conservation or provide an excuse to party
like rock stars—the event has made waves as big as those on the river itself. Even the
Washington Post paid tribute, running a story on Gauley Fest in its travel section.
After paying eight bucks each at the check-in gate for two nights of wall-to-wall
camping with 3,500 other boaters, we were in. If most people drive in pairs, it's safe to
say we had to thread our way through 1,700 kayak-topped cars taking up row after
row of fairground real estate. Driving down dead-end passageways capped by buses,
mini-vans and SUVs, we finally scrunched into a campsite. Our little chunk of Gauley
Fest paradise. If you ever want to compare hull shapes, this is the place. Thirty-five
hundred of them, all at eye level. It was like looking at cars at an auto show, with
everything from speckled squirt boats to old school Crossfires topping every car in
sight.
After setting up camp, we picked our way through the crowd for the last set by Fox
Trot Zulu. It wasn't Jerry, but Jerry never played a stone's throw from world class
whitewater.
Bam, bam, bam. The sound of stakes being hammered into the ground woke us early.
Poking my head out the tent, I nearly got a shiner from a truck bumper just inches
away. North Carolina plates. In the middle of the night, they had wedged-in next to us,
decreasing our slice of Appalachia pie. By 8 a.m., our neighbors had all had a beer
and a cigarette, and were taking turns peeling the red strips off bologna and frying the
slices one by one.
Our breakfast of PBJs wasn't much better. But it got us out of the fairgrounds early,
and we were soon on our way to the put-in. Our first glimpse of the mayhem came
courtesy of the Summersville Dam, whose giant jets fuel the festival. Driving across it,
I craned my head out the window to a mob scene, complete with rangers directing
traffic. A fake excuse let us pass to the put-in where we tracked down Perception's
Woody Callaway for a boat. "You want the smallest boat you can find," said Clay
Wright, unloading the shuttle rig. "At least that way you can still do wave wheels while
everyone else is waiting to surf."
The crowds came in the form of rubber as well as polyethylene. On the bathroom wall,
graffiti summed up local sentiments: "Keep Wild West Virginia Clean...Kill a Rafter"
and "Rafters Eat Roadkill." But there's good reason for the river's popularity: its
whitewater. Rapids like Pillow Rock, Iron Ring and Sweet's Falls line up like
festival-goers at a morning outhouse. Every eddy is an all star line-up, a Who's Who of
kayaking. I shared the eddy at Insignificant with such notables as Eric Jackson,
Charlie Walbridge, Ken Whiting, Eric Southwick, Simon Wiscombe, Dan De la Vergne,
Shannon Carroll, BJ Johnson, Mojo Rogers, Clay Wright and Dan Gavere.
"It humbles you a little bit when you come from out West, doesn't it?" said Curt Burge,
a friend from Colorado, after we witnessed an effortless seven-spin ride by an eastern
no-name. "There are a hell of a lot of good boaters out here."
Milking every available playspot until the release trickled away, we took out just in time
to catch the last U-Haul carrying boats out of the gorge, leaving us with a 20-minute
hike up Panther Trail. A few good-ol'-boys waved us over from rocking chairs on a
trailer porch as we drove home. "Come have a beer," they invited. We drove on.
Back on the highway, traffic had backed up 20 minutes just to reach the fairgrounds
exit. Inside, the festival was in full swing. Although there were countless sub-party
areas, the main festivities took place in a ribboned-off area where a large circle of
booths met at a stage to give it the air of a flea market. Commanding the center were
giant RVs owned by Perception and Teva, each serving up beer and music.
Making the rounds, I grabbed a peppers-and-onion polish dog and ran into Chris
Emerick, a typical Gauley Fest attendee who showed up with only a sleeping bag and
pad, planning to borrow everything else. A visit to an apparel booth unearthed another.
"Hey, do you work here?" a visitor asked. "I blew out the gasket on my drytop." Many
vendors turned vaudeville by organizing sideshows. Dagger held a
Cross-dressing-with-Cucumbers contest, and Perception had participants going from
buck naked to full paddle gear.
Dancing filled the remainder of the evening until my eyelids, tired from getting peeled
back during the day and squinting into the park lights at night, forced me back to my
tent. Just as I settled into a warm bag, a loud roar wafted over the cartops. Its source:
an impromptu boxing ring, complete with referee. I got back out, picked my way
through cars like a rat in a maze, and saw the crowd encouraging two guys wailing on
each other. Then came Aleta Miller and Shannon Carroll. "But I don't want to hit you,"
pleaded Aleta, as they touched gloves for a friendly bout.
Where their styles may be similar on the water, in the boxing ring they are anything
but. Aleta's pivot-from-the-elbow fly swats were no match for Shannon's errant
haymakers. When the girls were through, the guys took center stage again until no
one else came forward to challenge the men's champ. The matches then followed the
natural drunken progression to wrestling and chicken fights before Summersville's
finest closed down the show.
We awoke again to the sound of hammers, this time being used by vendors to tear
down their booths. The whole thing lasted just six hours, from six to midnight. In the
field, people were moving slowly. Aleta, in particular, looked worse for the wear. A bad
start would get worse at the local Shoney's when, after forgetting to pay for gas,
Nicholas County's finest politely reminded her.
Day two on the Upper saw little trouble, and a personal break-through with my first
ride-the-entire-wall splat below Sweet's Falls. After breaking camp, we headed back to
the put-in to sleep, where flickering light from Woody's RV VCR sucked us into
watching Austin Powers with the rodeo crowd.
It wasn't stakes, but sirens announcing the day's water release that woke us the next
morning. Low-lying clouds shrouded the river, making it as misty as people's heads. It
reminded me of the Gauley I had seen on the poster. While several folks debated
about whether to paddle or save energy for the Pimp n' Ho', someone else organized
an impromptu rodeo, charging $20 a pop—winner take all—for a contest at four
different playspots. We passed the group about halfway down, content to wallow in our
western mediocrity.
By the end of Day Four I felt like I had been on the Grand or rodeo tour for a month.
We had been living the dream for half a week, not knowing where we'd sleep, where
the next meal would come from, or what section of river we'd boat. I had slept in my
jeans four nights in a row, subsisted on fast food and boated my ass off. It was
beginning to take its toll. My ailments read like I was the one who had stepped into the
ring: a tweaked stomach from swapping ends; two rubbed-raw "Mr. Clean" toes; a
bloody thumb knuckle from rolling; dry hands in need of bag balm; a chafing neck
gasket ring; eyelids still reeling from peeling on Insignificant; a whack to the helmet in
Iron Ring; post-padding nasal drip; and, of course, the general tiredness and euphoria
that comes from paddling and partying.
The real party, of course, was yet to come. With obligations back home, Edge couldn't
make the Pimp n' Ho', so I bid him farewell and headed out solo for the weekend's
climax.
Now I was alone in West Virginia, its peculiarities greeting me on the way back to
Fayetteville. "Two bedroom apartment for rent: $150," read one sign. "Pit Bull pups for
sale," read another. At a gas station, the headline of the Register-Herald said, "Gun
Club's Aim Holds True." After negotiating several wrong turns flanked by no
trespassing signs in the Fayetteville backwoods, the Teva van was a welcome sight.
Back with my own kind.
In only its third year, the Pimp n' Ho' Ball has become a badge of courage for Festival
goers, a mini-Gauley Fest every bit as core as its predecessor. Held in an abandoned
schoolhouse, complete with broken windows and classrooms converted to house a
climbing gym and halfpipe, the party is the brainchild of local video boater Matt Darpli.
After getting waved into a grassy parking lot by an attendant, I found him, dressed in
pimp attire, talking to one of 14 private bouncers hired to keep the Fayetteville police
at bay. He gave me a wrist band, a wad of fake money and led me inside past one of
24 kegs to a VIP room upstairs. Inside, various insiders were putting on make-up and
costumes and indulging in various pre-party activities. "There's no party or dance
scene in Fayetteville," Darpli said. "We wanted to create a party where people could
check their inhibitions at the door." The people funneling in were doing just that. One
guy was dressed up as a girl with a mattress strapped to her back. A woman strutted
around topless, save for baby bottle nipples glued to her own. "This whole thing went
from a random event to an industry-sanctioned party quickly," he continued, adding
that 20 sponsors now backed the event. From 350 people attending the first one held
at a church, the event drew 600 people its second year and Darpli capped it at 1,000
this year.
Below our balcony, the school gymnasium had been converted into a dance floor
complete with cage dancing and chain link fence covering the walls. It had the motif of
a ghetto. Mist from dry ice machines filtered through the dance cages like fog
devouring the Gauley. Raw energy was being expelled like water from the
Summersville Dam. "It's not easy living on a round planet that moves," said one
bleary-eyed dancer in the mosh pit. "That wave at Insignificant is like sex on acid,"
said another.
I had to get out. The Perception RV was home base, every bit as much as the eddy
above Sweet's Falls. Their crowd, too, was getting ready to rage. Veronica Griner
emerged as a slutty schoolgirl. Woody came in a cape and necklace, with hip pads
glued onto his Tevas, adding another four inches to his 6'3" frame. Rodeo paddler
Kelly Murphy appeared shaking a set of tail feathers. I knew then why Woody had
plugged in Austin Powers on his RV's VCR. They were getting primed. "You
bee-have," said a too-tall Woody to an approaching lass.
Then nostalgia caught up with him, as he realized this marked a passing of the torch
to a new generation of paddler. "We're the old school that understands the new
school," he said, waving his hand across the crowd. "But it's still the same energy we
had when we were young, and the same love for rivers and paddling." He was right.
Apart from the costumes, the Pimp n' Ho' captured the same energy the Gauley Fest
did years ago.
By the time I came to, my watch read 3 a.m. My wife would have been proud that I left
early--but not with what I was wearing. Instead of wearing jeans to bed to cut the cold,
I was now in bright red, polyester, bun-huggers. Making matters worse, Zip drove
away early in the morning with my real clothes, forcing me to resurface sober in the
flaming red trousers. Crawling out of my tent, I hurriedly made my way over to
Woodyville to borrow a pair of shorts. A trail of Kelly's tail feathers led up the steps to
the RV. Inside people were moving slowly, having trouble filtering coffee.
On a table nearby, a stack of homemade fliers touted the next gathering: the Bunch's
Boater Bash at the Asheville Pizza and Brewing Co. Those who could afford the time
and braincells would make their way south and circle their cars at yet another river
gathering, just like the early Gauley Fest pioneers did years ago.
—This year's Gauley Fest will be held Saturday, Sept. 16. (Note that this is a week
earlier than the traditional date.) For more information, contact Phyllis Horowitz, Box
636, Margaretville, NY 12455; (914) 586-2355.
Gauley Fest Survival Tips
Don't set your tent up in the field; move it into the trees to avoid sun and noise
If you're planning on driving around at night, take your boats off your car to avoid
rousing suspicion from the law
Go for the all-you-can eat pancake breakfast on the premises—but brew your own
coffee
Bring $5 with you to the take-out to pay for your boat shuttle up Panther Trail
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River Flows
Paw Power
Dog Days in Southern Utah
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
Trask
You should know right away that I don't like paddling much. I mean, it looks pretty cool
and all, but I don't have opposable thumbs, which means I can't hold a paddle, which
means "going paddling" for me and other dogs translates to "going swimming," which,
as any beginning kayaker will tell you, is another sport entirely.
Not that I'm a bad swimmer. I'm actually pretty good what with these webbed feet I
got. But a dog's brain (mine, at least) never seems quite able to grasp the idea of
"running along the bank." My owner likes to say I'll do it while he paddles downstream
but it usually doesn't work out that way. In fact, seems like the whole "what to do with
the dog" thing is about the only bad part about paddling. ‘Cause when we're going
somewhere and I hear Tom planning on running a certain section of river, I know it
means I get to sit in the truck and wait. Which pretty much sucks.
But we found a place this spring that's a good paddle for humans–'specially humans
who aren't all that good–and I could keep up just by running or swimming alongside.
I'd like to tell you 'zactly where it is because it'd prolly be a cool place for you to go but
Tom says finding places is half the fun and that the desert can't handle too many dogs
and people at once anyway and that it wasn't easy for us to find so why should he just
hand directions over to somebody else and besides I can't read a map anyway so I'd
prolly get it all wrong.
Sept/Oct 2000
• Features All I know is that we were in the bottom half of some state starting with a "U" and there
were more rabbits to chase than there was water to drink. And I also know that we
• Hotline drove really nice cars (which I hate, because I like to be dirty) to the edge of
• Destinations something called a "Willerness Area." I'm not too sure what that means, except that
• Gear we (finally) got to get out and walk and Tom had to carry his kayak a long ways on his
• Skills head--ha, ha!
• Olympic Preview
(Side note to humans: When playing in the desert, make sure your dog stays away
• Special Fishing
Supplement from sharp, spiny things called cactuses. I got pretty good at avoiding them but I got
one in my paw after chasing a rabbit and I was bummin' for a while.)
When we finally got to the water it was low and perfect. The humans were saying it
More from was flowing at "just under a hundert," whatever that means. You might not think it was
Destinations perfect if you only like to run really big, scary stuff, but a ranger-type person told us
that the canyon where we were would be really high and scary in June, which is a
Paw Power
couple months after we were there. But hopefully you wouldn't have a dog and an
inflatable kayak with you then.
Return to We went during something humans call "spring break" and it was perfect timing for
Table of Contents
me. If you want to bring your dog, it would also be good to go in September or October
(assuming your dog isn't hunting birds then, which is what I'll be doing.) We spent the
first night in a place that sounds kinda like "lab," only with an "m" and an "o" at the
beginning of it. And, like I said, it was spring break so there were lots of motorcycles
and jeeps and other noisy things there that I don't think I could keep up with and that
looked like they might run me over even if I tried. But the cool thing is, where we went,
where this canyon is, with the water and the rabbits, there was nobody else–no other
humans, no cats, no nothin'.
Not very far into the float, we came across something pretty-scary-something called a
rockfall--that blocked our way. Now, I'm pretty tough, but I just couldn't hurl myself into
the pool below like the humans did. First of all, I'm a dog so I'm not very tall. Second,
we were in this thing called a "slot canyon" and I didn't see another way out if I got
down there and couldn't get back out. They were all calling my name and shouting
"C'mon, you can do it!" But I was thinking, "You're the humans. You dragged me down
here and if you want to continue this little hike you call a paddling trip you better figure
out a way to get me down there because I ain't jumping!" Finally, Tom came up and
dragged me around by my collar so we could keep going.
(Side note to humans: It would be a good idea to have a life jacket for your dog when
doing this sort of thing--not just to prevent drowning but also to provide warmth. Like I
said, I'm pretty tough (and big and strong and rather good looking) but even I would
have liked a doggie PFD on this trip. Luckily, Kathy and Hatalie didn't mind me
hopping in their inflatable kayak when I got tired of swimming.)
The humans got to paddle quite a bit considering how many times I was able to just
walk along next to them in paw deep water. And all the rockfalls helped me catch up to
them when they were getting ahead--which is good, because sometimes I had to swim
so long I thought I was gonna boot. I've never been very good at math but I'd say you
can figure about a mile an hour in the slot canyon if you go when we went or in the fall.
(Side note to humans: In July and August, in addition to being too hot for anybody
with a brain to be in the desert, there are also sometimes these things called
thunderstorms, which sometimes cause these other things called flash floods. And
though they are often less "flashy" than some humans make 'em sound, even my lil'
dog brain can figure out that a slot canyon is not the place you want to experience
one.)
The sun was going down when we got out and I was really tired. But it was still the
best paddling trip I ever went on. (Well, 'cept for that one when I got to ride on the raft
the whole time.) So I say you should take your dog to one of these slot canyon places
this fall. And if you need someone to show you the way...I'm available.
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River Flows
Heritage Kayaks' Tandem
An Open Cockpit, Self-Bailing Beauty
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
Natalie Springuel
This was a new experience for me. Our team of three reviewers--Jeff DeJongh, Ron
Wanner, and myself--have been sea kayak guides and instructors on the coast of
Maine for many years, and we've always used closed-deck boats. I'd be lying if I didn't
admit that part of me wanted to dislike this boat. But that didn't happen.
The Tandem felt perfectly designed for playing in waves and surf or shallow, flat
waters. The biggest waves we encountered on any of our testing days were small
(12-18 inches), but the Tandem caught them nicely and carried us several yards.
Bigger waves would certainly take us for a fun and stable ride.
The Tandem's hull design, which Jeff described as the shape of a gull's open wings,
has built-in sponson shelves. The hull itself lies in the water while the sponsons lay on
top. Consequently, the boat's contact with the water is limited to just the hull, enabling
the boat to move at the same speed as most polyethylene kayaks, despite its wide
berth. Thanks to the sponsons, you'd have to work really hard to get this boat upside
down. When I solo paddled the Tandem and tried to flip it, I simply fell out of the
cockpit while the boat flopped right side up, empty of water.
Paddling an open deck kayak on the North Atlantic is not for the easily chilled or
under-dressed. When waves splashed into the cockpit, they left us sitting in a pool of
water. The kayak's self-bailing holes are located between the paddler's legs, elevated
above the seat and foot area, so at least an inch of water is never able to escape,
even when the plugs are removed. No biggie if you're in warm water, but for colder
Sept/Oct 2000 climates, be sure and dress accordingly.
• Features One of its best attributes is that it's extremely stable. Jeff and I took it on a lake and
• Hotline paddled up a shallow creek where we took turns standing up, and experienced barely
• Destinations any teetering. It would make a great fishing platform. We also found that paddling on
• Gear your knees like a canoe worked well too. On lake and ocean alike, we hardly used the
rudder because the Tandem tracks and turns well without it.
• Skills
• Olympic Preview A downside is the lack of sufficient bulkheads between the hull and the seat bottoms
• Special Fishing which lead to oilcanning when lashed down to racks. We'd also equip the Tandem with
Supplement additional tight bungees to lash down necessary equipment.
All in all, the Tandem was a fun boat for our team of closed-cockpit aficionados. We
quickly appreciated the ease of entry, innovative hull designs and superior stability.
More from
We concluded that we'd love to take this boat to Assateague, Chincoteague, the
Gear Outerbanks or the Florida Keys, both for its performance and to escape the frigid
Heritage Kayaks' Tandem waters of Maine.
Eskimo's Quadro Boat Beta: length: 16' 6"; width: 30"; wt.: 84 lbs.; MSRP: $1,100. Info: (401) 253-3408,
Dagger's Aftershock www.heritagekayaks.com.
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Table of Contents
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River Flows
How to Read the Bad Holes
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA Kent Ford
You spend the first half of your paddling career trying to stay out of holes, and the rest
of your paddling career trying to stay in them. The expression is a daunting joke to
rodeo competitors...but seems to be quite true for most paddlers. The less you know
about holes, the more frequently you seem to get stuck and trashed. The more you
know, the better you are at picking ones within your ability.
The Basics: Wave Holes and Ledge Holes
Holes with more of a wave shape are intimidating, but typically less hazardous. Very
little water is recycling back upstream. Even huge wave holes will usually just tumble
you a time or two before flushing you out. Ledge holes are not so nice. These go by
different names...like pourover, keeper, sticky hole, etc. The water drops down, goes
underneath, and some recycles back upstream. This water moving upstream can be
tricky, and hold a boat, and, in some cases, you. Learn how to identify the ugly ones
so you can avoid them.
Big Backwash Is Bad
The distance the water in a ledge hole is moving upstream tells you a lot about its
danger and power. If the backwash is approaching four feet, there is a greater chance
you can get recycled in there if you swim. If the current moves upstream a greater
distance, it is getting really nasty and dangerous. A ledge hole with only two feet of
backwash might be pretty sticky for sidesurfing, but as soon as you swim it will flush
you out quickly.
Irregular Is Better
A hole or ledge hole that is irregular is nicer, since there are more likely jets of current
breaking through the backwash. Hook up with one of those irregular spots, and you're
on your way out. If the backwash is wider, stretching across more of the river, it is
worse.
Width is Worse
The worst examples are low head dams, which often have dangerous hydraulics
because they are wide, have several feet of backwash, and no current blowing
through. If you look carefully, you can spot the horizon line from upstream. A ledge
hole that's only a few feet wide is less dangerous, since it won't take as much effort to
Sept/Oct 2000 swim out the side.
• Features Smiling or Frowning?
• Hotline
• Destinations The thing to remember about this famous memory trick is that it refers to the view
• Gear looking downstream from the water. Basically, if the ends of a hole are angled
downstream, it is smiling and will tend to feed you out the end. A frowning hole has
• Skills both ends angled upstream, and is more likely to hold you. A hole that is angled
• Olympic Preview relative to the current flow will be more friendly, since it will tend to flush you out the
• Special Fishing side into the current.
Supplement
Rare Exceptions
If the ends of the hole are closed, like angled upstream or against a wall, it can be
More from
hard to escape. Another exception is a hole with unusual power moving back
Skills upstream. These are rare, but the worst examples have a rock underneath, aiding the
How to Read the Bad backwash. Some low head dams are designed with this feature, making them extra
Holes dangerous.
What to do
Return to
Table of Contents Smart paddlers never run drops blindly. When you can't see clearly downstream,
either to the end of a rapid or the next sure eddy, stop and get a better view. Scouting
is always a good option, and a good opportunity to share knowledge.
Swimming in holes can be fun with the right wave hole...but it's no fun in large
pourovers. If you feel stuck in a hole, don't just swim for the surface. Simply changing
your shape may cause the hole to spit you out. First, swim aggressively for the sides
where water rushes by. You may improve your chances to escape if you swim
upstream to hook up with current flushing out underneath.
Getting Out in a Boat
Riding a hole sideways is called a sidesurf. To stay upright in a sidesurf, you must
keep the upstream edge of your boat clear of the green water falling into the hole. If
this edge catches, it's an instant flip. However, if you tilt the boat too far downstream,
you'll look to the blade for constant support, then you won't be able to maneuver
effectively. Steep ledge holes force lots of boat tilt, so it is hard to stay balanced.
Your goal is to find an ideal balanced position, so you can use normal forward, or
reverse strokes to move your boat. If you don't have enough balance for forward or
reverse strokes, sacrifice power and incorporate a brace. The high brace combines
easily with a small forward sweep to propel you forward. The low brace works nicely
with a reverse sweep to move you the other direction.
There's one more stroke option for moving around in a hole: stationary strokes. These
take advantage of the current under the pile to pressure the blade. You'll use a
combination of these propulsion strokes to get out of a hole. In a deep hole, you're
literally climbing out, so momentum will help. Sometimes you have to back up, and get
a run at a good exit.
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River Flows
A Preview of the Coming Games
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
There's no eddying out. Rodeo paddler Aleta Miller is committed. Charging left, she
flails her arms wildly, dodging blows that come from all directions. Then, she catches
one out of nowhere, blindsiding her and knocking her off balance. "Don't tip over on
this one," she thinks. "Not now." Never before had she been in waters like this. All she
can do is roll with the punches. A collective roar rises from the crowd. Craning my
head around the referee, I glimpse Shannon Carroll delivering the coup de grace.
Aleta catches the haymaker square on the chin and stumbles back into the crowd.
Gauley Fest. In 14 years of western boating, I'd always heard about it, but it was
Sept/Oct 2000 lifestyles away, rumors and stories filtering across the Mississippi. I'd heard about its
• Features namesake river also: two sections, the Lower and Upper, each boasting some of the
best whitewater in the East. And I'd seen the poster--who hasn't?--with rafts
• Hotline
disappearing into fog percolating through massive boulders.
• Destinations
• Gear To experience the festival firsthand, a watery Woodstock showcasing the East's best
• Skills paddling and partying, I needed back-up, a partner who could score a hall pass and
• Olympic Preview who knew how to boat and cut loose--not necessarily in that order. Bruce Edgerly, a
• Special Fishing long-time boating buddy from Boulder, Colo., took the bait. "That's exactly what
Supplement Frequent Flier miles are for," he said when I popped the question.
The festival's prominence made itself known on the commuter flight from Washington
Dulles to Charleston, W.V. "Hey Eugene," came a voice from a few rows back.
More from "Heading to the Fest?" The voice, belonging to Dick DeChant, owner of California's
Olympic Hyside Inflatables, carried over the heads of even more people heading back East
Preview from out West--the Teva crew, eight in all, who had just flown from Santa Barbara. On
a plane that sat 20, 12 were on their way to Gauley Fest.
A Preview of the Coming
Games Kyle, a former east coast tech rep for Teva, was a festival regular and he quickly clued
Ratcliffe vs. Shipley
us in to local ways. Hurricane Floyd had missed the area, meaning it was still in
drought. Everything was dry but the Gauley and Upper Yough. He also advised us to
stick around for the annual Pimp n' Ho' Ball, held in an abandoned schoolhouse for
Return to
locals and other riffraff once the masses had departed. This year would be bigger than
Table of Contents normal as it would fall on a Monday--the last water release day--meaning hangovers
were fair game for Tuesday. As the plane's lights glowed on the landing strip, he
offered one more piece of advice. "To avoid road blocks and check points, stay on the
main highway. It's the people who freak out and turn off onto the ramps who get
caught." Rumors from the previous year had cops beefing-up their patrols and
stopping any car with kayaks on top. This year would even see a pair of cops put
kayaks on top of an unmarked car to blend in with the crowd.
We needn't have worried. Picking us up at our Super 8 the next morning in a 4X4 van
with a 2X4 rack was Wayne Amsbary, a long-time Gauley video boater who grew up in
the area and schooled at Clemson. Joining him was Zip, whose long blond hair
matched Wayne's lock for lock. Our partners fit the profile of the typical attendee. Both
were dead broke, blowing off what work they did have to go paddling. Wayne blew off
video boating just to show us around. "I think the Upper Yough's going," he said over a
breakfast of grits and eggs at Shoney's. A quick call to Mountain Surf, located at the
take-out, confirmed the rumor and off we raced to beat the release. At Friendsville, we
parked behind two women in a Starrk Moon Kayaks van. "You guys heading to the
put-in?" Wayne asked. "Nope," they replied. "We're saving ourselves for the Gauley."
With only four days, we weren't saving ourselves for anything. We caught the main
group--and water release--about halfway down. At the take-out we ran into Mountain
Surf owner John Mason, who was packing his van for the Gauley. After a quick
beer--and a promise to boat together--we headed south to Summersville. Car after car
passed us on the highway, all topped with kayaks and all heading to the Nicholas
County Fairgrounds. "It looks like everyone's going to a Dead show," said Zip, who
looked like he knew what he was talking about.
That's what Gauley Fest is like--a Dead Show. Only instead of wearing tie-dyes,
everyone's in boating equipment, and instead of coming to see Jerry, they come to
paddle the Gauley. And it's comprised of groupies, people who plan their whole year
around a single event that isn't even based on a competition. Unlike other river
festivals, the only competition comes from fighting your way through the beer line,
vying for a dance partner or jockeying for position to surf a wave. Although the river
runs over six four-day weekends every fall, it's only during one of them that American
Whitewater (AW) converts the fairgrounds into the world's largest whitewater
party--one that would do Jerry proud.
Though it might seem lost in the mayhem, the event does have a cause. It was first
held in 1983 by a group of boaters rallying to block a hydro project on the river. Now
it's a fundraiser for other access issues. "At the first one everyone just circled up their
cars with music, beer and campstoves," said Risa Shimoda-Callaway, who has
attended all 16. "It was more seat-of-your-pants." But she admits to a reason behind
the debauchery: "There was a sense of urgency about protecting the river. Its releases
were threatened, and the event served as a platform to protect it. If people realize the
event helped save the Gauley, then it's serving its purpose."
Whatever its purpose--to raise money for conservation or provide an excuse to party
like rock stars--the event has made waves as big as those on the river itself. Even the
Washington Post paid tribute, running a story on Gauley Fest in its travel section.
After paying eight bucks each at the check-in gate for two nights of wall-to-wall
camping with 3,500 other boaters, we were in. If most people drive in pairs, it's safe to
say we had to thread our way through 1,700 kayak-topped cars taking up row after
row of fairground real estate. Driving down dead-end passageways capped by buses,
mini-vans and SUVs, we finally scrunched into a campsite. Our little chunk of Gauley
Fest paradise. If you ever want to compare hull shapes, this is the place. Thirty-five
hundred of them, all at eye level. It was like looking at cars at an auto show, with
everything from speckled squirt boats to old school Crossfires topping every car in
sight.
After setting up camp, we picked our way through the crowd for the last set by Fox
Trot Zulu. It wasn't Jerry, but Jerry never played a stone's throw from world class
whitewater.
Bam, bam, bam. The sound of stakes being hammered into the ground woke us early.
Poking my head out the tent, I nearly got a shiner from a truck bumper just inches
away. North Carolina plates. In the middle of the night, they had wedged-in next to us,
decreasing our slice of Appalachia pie. By 8 a.m., our neighbors had all had a beer
and a cigarette, and were taking turns peeling the red strips off bologna and frying the
slices one by one.
Our breakfast of PBJs wasn't much better. But it got us out of the fairgrounds early,
and we were soon on our way to the put-in. Our first glimpse of the mayhem came
courtesy of the Summersville Dam, whose giant jets fuel the festival. Driving across it,
I craned my head out the window to a mob scene, complete with rangers directing
traffic. A fake excuse let us pass to the put-in where we tracked down Perception's
Woody Callaway for a boat. "You want the smallest boat you can find," said Clay
Wright, unloading the shuttle rig. "At least that way you can still do wave wheels while
everyone else is waiting to surf."
The crowds came in the form of rubber as well as polyethylene. On the bathroom wall,
graffiti summed up local sentiments: "Keep Wild West Virginia Clean...Kill a Rafter"
and "Rafters Eat Roadkill." But there's good reason for the river's popularity: its
whitewater. Rapids like Pillow Rock, Iron Ring and Sweet's Falls line up like
festival-goers at a morning outhouse. Every eddy is an all star line-up, a Who's Who of
kayaking. I shared the eddy at Insignificant with such notables as Eric Jackson,
Charlie Walbridge, Ken Whiting, Eric Southwick, Simon Wiscombe, Dan De la Vergne,
Shannon Carroll, BJ Johnson, Mojo Rogers, Clay Wright and Dan Gavere.
"It humbles you a little bit when you come from out West, doesn't it?" said Curt Burge,
a friend from Colorado, after we witnessed an effortless seven-spin ride by an eastern
no-name. "There are a hell of a lot of good boaters out here."
Milking every available playspot until the release trickled away, we took out just in time
to catch the last U-Haul carrying boats out of the gorge, leaving us with a 20-minute
hike up Panther Trail. A few good-ol'-boys waved us over from rocking chairs on a
trailer porch as we drove home. "Come have a beer," they invited. We drove on.
Back on the highway, traffic had backed up 20 minutes just to reach the fairgrounds
exit. Inside, the festival was in full swing. Although there were countless sub-party
areas, the main festivities took place in a ribboned-off area where a large circle of
booths met at a stage to give it the air of a flea market. Commanding the center were
giant RVs owned by Perception and Teva, each serving up beer and music.
Making the rounds, I grabbed a peppers-and-onion polish dog and ran into Chris
Emerick, a typical Gauley Fest attendee who showed up with only a sleeping bag and
pad, planning to borrow everything else. A visit to an apparel booth unearthed another.
"Hey, do you work here?" a visitor asked. "I blew out the gasket on my drytop." Many
vendors turned vaudeville by organizing sideshows. Dagger held a
Cross-dressing-with-Cucumbers contest, and Perception had participants going from
buck naked to full paddle gear.
Dancing filled the remainder of the evening until my eyelids, tired from getting peeled
back during the day and squinting into the park lights at night, forced me back to my
tent. Just as I settled into a warm bag, a loud roar wafted over the cartops. Its source:
an impromptu boxing ring, complete with referee. I got back out, picked my way
through cars like a rat in a maze, and saw the crowd encouraging two guys wailing on
each other. Then came Aleta Miller and Shannon Carroll. "But I don't want to hit you,"
pleaded Aleta, as they touched gloves for a friendly bout.
Where their styles may be similar on the water, in the boxing ring they are anything
but. Aleta's pivot-from-the-elbow fly swats were no match for Shannon's errant
haymakers. When the girls were through, the guys took center stage again until no
one else came forward to challenge the men's champ. The matches then followed the
natural drunken progression to wrestling and chicken fights before Summersville's
finest closed down the show.
We awoke again to the sound of hammers, this time being used by vendors to tear
down their booths. The whole thing lasted just six hours, from six to midnight. In the
field, people were moving slowly. Aleta, in particular, looked worse for the wear. A bad
start would get worse at the local Shoney's when, after forgetting to pay for gas,
Nicholas County's finest politely reminded her.
Day two on the Upper saw little trouble, and a personal break-through with my first
ride-the-entire-wall splat below Sweet's Falls. After breaking camp, we headed back to
the put-in to sleep, where flickering light from Woody's RV VCR sucked us into
watching Austin Powers with the rodeo crowd.
It wasn't stakes, but sirens announcing the day's water release that woke us the next
morning. Low-lying clouds shrouded the river, making it as misty as people's heads. It
reminded me of the Gauley I had seen on the poster. While several folks debated
about whether to paddle or save energy for the Pimp n' Ho', someone else organized
an impromptu rodeo, charging $20 a pop--winner take all--for a contest at four different
playspots. We passed the group about halfway down, content to wallow in our western
mediocrity.
By the end of Day Four I felt like I had been on the Grand or rodeo tour for a month.
We had been living the dream for half a week, not knowing where we'd sleep, where
the next meal would come from, or what section of river we'd boat. I had slept in my
jeans four nights in a row, subsisted on fast food and boated my ass off. It was
beginning to take its toll. My ailments read like I was the one who had stepped into the
ring: a tweaked stomach from swapping ends; two rubbed-raw "Mr. Clean" toes; a
bloody thumb knuckle from rolling; dry hands in need of bag balm; a chafing neck
gasket ring; eyelids still reeling from peeling on Insignificant; a whack to the helmet in
Iron Ring; post-padding nasal drip; and, of course, the general tiredness and euphoria
that comes from paddling and partying.
The real party, of course, was yet to come. With obligations back home, Edge couldn't
make the Pimp n' Ho', so I bid him farewell and headed out solo for the weekend's
climax.
Now I was alone in West Virginia, its peculiarities greeting me on the way back to
Fayetteville. "Two bedroom apartment for rent: $150," read one sign. "Pit Bull pups for
sale," read another. At a gas station, the headline of the Register-Herald said, "Gun
Club's Aim Holds True." After negotiating several wrong turns flanked by no
trespassing signs in the Fayetteville backwoods, the Teva van was a welcome sight.
Back with my own kind.
In only its third year, the Pimp n' Ho' Ball has become a badge of courage for Festival
goers, a mini-Gauley Fest every bit as core as its predecessor. Held in an abandoned
schoolhouse, complete with broken windows and classrooms converted to house a
climbing gym and halfpipe, the party is the brainchild of local video boater Matt Darpli.
After getting waved into a grassy parking lot by an attendant, I found him, dressed in
pimp attire, talking to one of 14 private bouncers hired to keep the Fayetteville police
at bay. He gave me a wrist band, a wad of fake money and led me inside past one of
24 kegs to a VIP room upstairs. Inside, various insiders were putting on make-up and
costumes and indulging in various pre-party activities. "There's no party or dance
scene in Fayetteville," Darpli said. "We wanted to create a party where people could
check their inhibitions at the door." The people funneling in were doing just that. One
guy was dressed up as a girl with a mattress strapped to her back. A woman strutted
around topless, save for baby bottle nipples glued to her own. "This whole thing went
from a random event to an industry-sanctioned party quickly," he continued, adding
that 20 sponsors now backed the event. From 350 people attending the first one held
at a church, the event drew 600 people its second year and Darpli capped it at 1,000
this year.
Below our balcony, the school gymnasium had been converted into a dance floor
complete with cage dancing and chain link fence covering the walls. It had the motif of
a ghetto. Mist from dry ice machines filtered through the dance cages like fog
devouring the Gauley. Raw energy was being expelled like water from the
Summersville Dam. "It's not easy living on a round planet that moves," said one
bleary-eyed dancer in the mosh pit. "That wave at Insignificant is like sex on acid,"
said another.
I had to get out. The Perception RV was home base, every bit as much as the eddy
above Sweet's Falls. Their crowd, too, was getting ready to rage. Veronica Griner
emerged as a slutty schoolgirl. Woody came in a cape and necklace, with hip pads
glued onto his Tevas, adding another four inches to his 6'3" frame. Rodeo paddler
Kelly Murphy appeared shaking a set of tail feathers. I knew then why Woody had
plugged in Austin Powers on his RV's VCR. They were getting primed. "You
bee-have," said a too-tall Woody to an approaching lass.
Then nostalgia caught up with him, as he realized this marked a passing of the torch
to a new generation of paddler. "We're the old school that understands the new
school," he said, waving his hand across the crowd. "But it's still the same energy we
had when we were young, and the same love for rivers and paddling." He was right.
Apart from the costumes, the Pimp n' Ho' captured the same energy the Gauley Fest
did years ago.
By the time I came to, my watch read 3 a.m. My wife would have been proud that I left
early--but not with what I was wearing. Instead of wearing jeans to bed to cut the cold,
I was now in bright red, polyester, bun-huggers. Making matters worse, Zip drove
away early in the morning with my real clothes, forcing me to resurface sober in the
flaming red trousers. Crawling out of my tent, I hurriedly made my way over to
Woodyville to borrow a pair of shorts. A trail of Kelly's tail feathers led up the steps to
the RV. Inside people were moving slowly, having trouble filtering coffee.
On a table nearby, a stack of homemade fliers touted the next gathering: the Bunch's
Boater Bash at the Asheville Pizza and Brewing Co. Those who could afford the time
and braincells would make their way south and circle their cars at yet another river
gathering, just like the early Gauley Fest pioneers did years ago.
--This year's Gauley Fest will be held Saturday, Sept. 16. (Note that this is a week
earlier than the traditional date.) For more information, contact Phyllis Horowitz, Box
636, Margaretville, NY 12455; (914) 586-2355.
Gauley Fest Survival Tips
• Don't set your tent up in the field; move it into the trees to avoid sun and noise
• If you're planning on driving around at night, take your boats off your car to avoid
rousing suspicion from the law
• Go for the all-you-can eat pancake breakfast on the premises--but brew your own
coffee
• Bring $5 with you to the take-out to pay for your boat shuttle up Panther Trail
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River Flows
Skills: A Paddle Runs Through It
How to fish from your personal watercraft
Bulletin Boards
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While it may not offer the same romantic image as Brad Pitt wading the shoreline,
fishing from paddlecraft has always been a great way to enjoy the sport. But there are
some skills specific to fishing on, rather than in, the water. Here are a few tips to help
you track and tackle the big ones.
From a canoe
If you've ever had a fish on the line while sitting in a canoe, you know that landing it
can sometimes be a touchy affair. Lines get tangled, hooks catch on sweaters and fish
flop around inside the hull.
It doesn't have to be that way. Canoeing and fishing are intertwined with a rich history.
This wouldn't be so if the craft didn't perform some fishing function. Whether you're
angling for panfish on a private farm pond or tracking bonito in the saltchuck, with a
little practice and attention to detail you can turn your canoe into highly effective
fishing station.
There are three basic principles to keep in mind when fishing from a canoe: proper
storage of tackle, casting methods and appropriate fish handling.
Silence is the golden rule when it comes to fishing from a floating platform. Canoes
are no exception. Without making minor modifications, your canoe's hull acts like an
amplifier, blasting irritating sound waves toward the fish.
Consider placing a sleeping pad on the floor of your boat. A lightweight, closed-cell
foam is an ideal sound-absorbing material. Also, use soft-style tackle boxes instead of
metal or hard plastic and suspend any storage containers from your seat or from the
Sept/Oct 2000 thwarts. Lastly, make sure your paddle strokes don't strike glancing blows off the hull.
• Features
• Hotline As for access to gear, try to provide a separate tackle bag for each angler in the boat.
Communal items such as a landing net can be centrally located. You also might want
• Destinations to incorporate a quick release system for the net so you don't have to worry about
• Gear accessing it when the time comes to handle your catch. As for rod storage, most
• Skills people pin theirs against the wall or put them on the floor. The rod can also be
• Olympic Preview secured and protected by installing a solid foam block over the thwart, with small
• Special Fishing bungee cords for the tie-downs. The foam blocks also make a superb place to dry your
Supplement flies or lures.
From a sea kayak or sit-on-top
More from Fishing from a sea kayak or sit-on-top is a little tougher than fishing from a canoe.
Special Fishing Rudders can tangle your line and the low cockpit seating position puts you in an
Supplement awkward position for casting. But these boats can also put you into some of the best
fishing territory around. They're lightweight, highly maneuverable and quiet. If you're
Skills: A Paddle Runs serious about fishing, get a wide-beamed boat for extra stability. If your kayak is tippy
Through It and you don't want to purchase another one solely for fishing, consider buying a pair
of sponsons (inflatable pontoons that attach to the side of the hull) or an outrigger for
added stability. If you opt for inflatable sponsons, keep your lure away from them; one
Return to
Table of Contents
errant cast could deflate both the sponsons and your ego.
Most kayakers store their fishing rods by lying them on the bow or stern deck and
securing them with elastic (or they use a break-down rod). To organize your gear,
wear a chest pack, large-capacity fanny pack or use a deck bag secured across the
bow. All of these options give you immediate access to tackle and tools, and none
pose a problem with comfort, convenience or paddling technique.
If you're angling for small to medium-sized gamefish, use your boat as part of an
effective drag system. Allowing the kayak to be pulled around is not only fun, it helps
tire out your quarry and will take some the heat off of your line. With bigger fish, try not
to give a broadside profile of your boat to work against. The results could cause you to
capsize. Rather, aim the rod straight down the bow, steer with your rudder and let the
fish work against a more dynamic drag system.
From a raft or driftboat
Every year, whitewater buffs float over thousands of trout that are off limits to those
fishing from shore. And these neglected fish are often bigger and wilder than those in
more accessible stretches.
To access these fish you'll usually be in either a raft or a dory. The techniques for
reading the river and finding the fish are the same. The main difference is that in a raft
it's harder to stand on the spongy floor and you have to be a little more careful with
your hooks. Dories are also inherently louder so you have to be more careful when it
comes to hitting rocks and climbing around inside. The big plus to dories (or driftboats,
as they are often called), other than providing a more stable platform for fishing, is that
they are much easier to hold in water than a raft. Because they have more rocker,
dories don't sit very deep in the water, making them more maneuverable. But a raft
takes a beating better in low water (and won't sink if swamped).
Luckily for whitewater buffs, some of the best fishing occurs after rapids. Big swirling
tail-outs below rapids are probably the best bet, as opportunistic trout lay in wait for
stunned minnows and bugs after their own run through the rapids. So slide out your
rod as you slide out of the rapids and get a line in as soon as you can. Try casting
your flies and lures against deep rocky banks, behind boulders and up eddy lines. For
fish, these locations provide cover, shelter from the current and easy access to food.
Use the eddy current to drift back upstream if a particular eddy line proves productive.
Fishing from a raft can also take the bite out of the flats. Long, slow sections after
rapids invoke memories of laborious rowing or paddling into stiff headwinds. It's not so
arduous if you're dangling a line. Spinning lures, nymphs and streamers will work, but
in many situations, trout will be rising to feed on the surface.
--Hans Berend, Ken Hanley and Tom Bie
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River Flows
100 Things That Matter in Paddlesports
It's often the little things that mean the most
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
Why do we paddle? Why do we take a canoe across a lake, sea kayak to a remote
fiord, raft a desert canyon, or punch through whitewater in a kayak? Because there are
certain things that matter in paddling, things that often go unsaid but that are at the
very core of the sport. Things you appreciate without knowing why and things that
rarely get the respect they deserve. A crackling campfire, a desert sunset, a perfect
sweep stroke. No matter how trivial, it's these little things that keep us all coming back
to our boats, day after day, year after year. And now it's finally time to pay tribute to
them, those unsung heroes of every single paddling trip, flat or white, long or short.
With that in mind, following are a hundred Things That Matter in Paddlesports.
1. Sprayskirts that go on the first time--without requiring the assistance of both your
paddling partners ("Hey, can you hold that back down for me?")
3. Your first combat roll--kayaking's badge of courage. Often marks the first time you
say, "I can do this."
4. Running a river for the first time, when every corner is a mystery and every horizon
line plants that little seed of doubt in your belly.
12. Your buddy's hair sticking out of his helmet after getting swirl-o-grammed
More from
Features 13. Two words: The Groover
Three Days of 14. Manufacturers that keep churning out new ideas
Pandemonium
15. Being the first one out on the lake early in the morning
100 Things That Matter in
Paddlesports 16. Camp grills that keep the meat off the dirt
17. Paddling in the stern and having someone you really like in the bow
Return to
Table of Contents 18. Buddies who watch you get worked
22. Raft trips that let you bring everything--even the kitchen sink.
24. Showing tender loving care to your raft by bleeding the valves on a hot, summer
day
25. Trolling--when a fish hits hard and you've got to drop your paddle and grab the rod
before it gets yanked into the lake. All in two seconds.
27. Pumps that crank--especially those that attach to your car battery at the put-in
32. Powering a raft through a really big wave with a team of paddlers who know what
they're doing.
33. Flipping a raft in a really big wave with a team of paddlers who don’t have a clue
34. Neck gaskets that keep water out and circulation in your head
36. Campfires
38. People who know words to songs and how to harmonize while singing
47. Cobblestone beaches that let you pull your sea kayak up as if it was on rollers
50. Sandy beaches--laying down on them wearing nothing but river shorts, and feeling
the sand squish between your toes
52. Old school enders and pirouettes--and the momentary feeling of weightlessness
they provide
53. Accessible storage hatches that keep the water out and gear in
56. Competition
57. Your first surf, when you realize the whole new world you've discovered.
60. Self support trips, with little more than coffee and PowerBars.
66. That strong pull of the oars at the last minute that turns your boat just in time
67. Highsiding
68. Slipping back down the face of a wave in a raft and knowing you're toast
69. Deck rigging on a touring kayak for everything from maps and spare paddles to
water bottles and sunscreen
71. Acing a slalom course with nary a touch, whether you're in a local town race or the
Olympics
72. Saving your arms by surfing a roller on a long sea kayak crossing
74. Tarp systems that work, funneling the rain into harmless rivulets
76. That first push away from shore, when your nose catches the current and you
realize you're about to spend another day on the river. And once again, you can't
imagine anywhere else you'd rather be.
77. Sea kayak rudders that keep you pointed in the right direction
80. Drip guards on a touring shaft that keep water out of your armpits
83. Sidesurfing
84. Road-tripping--the hours, and even days, spent getting to a certain paddling spot
85. River mud--some people go to spas, but it’s free on the river
89. The shuttle--getting to and from the river can be the most memorable part of your
paddling trip
93. Dressing in the rain at the put-in--and cramming naked people into the shell of a
pick-up truck
95. Early season permit parties and landing a coveted, hard-to-get river permit
96. Watching the sun set behind a canyon wall or across the water
99. The long boat/retro class at rodeos--a reminder of where we all came from
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River Flows
Swimmers of the Century
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
We could hardly pay tribute to "Paddlers of the Century" (Jan/Feb 2000) without
honoring a few of their carping counterparts. Although it might not provide accolades
they'll tell their grandchildren, following is a look at a few of the country's Swimmers of
the Century.
In the early 1960s Vladmir Kovalik, Myrna Wilkins, and Marvin Stevens were so
fascinated by Oregon's Rogue River at Galice that they bought wetsuits, life jackets
and helmets, put their gear in a rubber bag, and jumped in. Three days later they
reached the Pacific. Kovalik remembers one frightening submersion, when he dropped
over Rainie Falls tethered to the gear bag, which was still in slow water 70 feet behind
him. Kovalik was so awed by the Rogue's beauty he pressed Congressman Leon
Panetta to submit it for Wild and Scenic River status. It became America's first.
--brad dimock
Harry Aleson/Georgi White
Contrary to popular belief, river runners Georgi White and Harry Aleson got their starts
on the Colorado River not in rafts, but in lifejackets. In 1945 they hiked in at Diamond
Creek with a malt can of instant coffee, hard candy and dehydrated soup. With the
river spewing 50,000 cfs of mud and logs, they leapt in. Initially separated and nearly
drowned, they soon adopted a wrist-lock tandem method. They were back the next
year, hiking overland to Parashant Canyon for a longer Canyon attempt. With a small
one-man raft and the river at 35,000, they found themselves swimming more than
rafting. The feats are outlined in Rivers of the Grand Canyon, with Aleson maintaining
the swim was performed to prove to potential clients that it was indeed possible to
swim out of the big Ditch.
--bd
Bill Beer/John Daggett
Although countless people have used the river for involuntary swim practice, this year
marks the 45th anniversary of one of swimming's greatest feats: the first top-to-bottom
swim of the Grand Canyon, made by Bill Beer and John Daggett. Setting off from
Lee's Ferry in April 1955 with little more than rubber shirts, diving masks, wool
longjohns and radio boxes filled with camping gear and food, the soggy duo learned
Sept/Oct 2000 about whitewater the way fish do: from the bottom up. Breathless and beaten, they
spent countless hours on shore nursing bruises and warding off hypothermia. Since
• Features such a descent is now illegal, unless someone takes a long unintentional swim, their
• Hotline record will remain untouched.
• Destinations
On a sad note, Beer passed away June 10, 2000, in an ultralight accident. “He was
• Gear
truly an amazing man and river runner,” says long-time friend Brad Dimock. “In
• Skills addition to his famous swim, he made several other Grand Canyon trips in a variety of
• Olympic Preview boats, including a Chris Craft.”
• Special Fishing
Supplement Jamie James/Gail Ater/Paul Lundgren/Roy Akin (AKA the "Sockeye Swimmers")
Most people would be happy enough simply floating the Salmon and Snake rivers.
Idaho's Jamie James, Gail Ater, Paul Lundgren and Roy Akin (AKA the "Sockeye
More from
Swimmers") took it a step further in 1995 by swimming 500 miles on the two
Hotline waterways to call attention to the rivers' salmon crises. The foursome took 25 days to
Expedition News accomplish the feat, becoming the first people to swim the length of the Salmon, the
longest free-flowing river in the Lower 48. The last few days, says James, now 46,
Swimmers of the Century were the toughest--especially once they hit Lower Granite Dam, 40 miles downstream
from the Idaho border. There, their progress slowed to six miles a day, compared to 30
miles a day in the river's free-flowing portion upstream. "You don't know what it means
Return to to have a river dammed until you swim a reservoir," he says. "The last five days were
Table of Contents
a nightmare."
Corran Addison
Corran Addison is included only because last year, while paddling Quebec's Rogue
River at flood, he took his first swim in 13 years. "I was on the Seven Sisters Falls
section at full flood and I paddled back up to play in this humongous hole," he says.
"The first two times were fine, but the third time I got the living tar beat out of me."
Eventually his skirt blew and he washed out, as did his boat walls. "I was hovering
about a foot below the surface, and eventually I ran out of air so I kicked out," he says.
"It was all quite peaceful really--I just popped to the surface, grabbed the kayak and
swam for shore. But I was definitely out of practice--rounding up my gear was an
ordeal."
Katie Lee
Few swims have been as provocative as that of Cayonlands pioneer Katie Lee, who
knew Glen Canyon (now in cold storage beneath Lake Powell) better than anyone. In
her myriad trips she spent more time out of the boats than in, reveling in the beauty,
sensuality and sexuality of the warm, muddy rivers. "I'm just bobbing along in my
lifejacket, letting the San Juan have its way with me," she writes, "when I feel a
change, a kind of nudge in the current. On the surface, the color turns a darker red, a
boil bubbles under my chin, and I hear a whisper in the water as it swishes between
my legs...the Mighty Colorado!"
--bd
Manfred Kraus
In August 1988, Germany's Manfred Kraus hired a commercial motor raft to escort his
swim through the Grand Canyon. Wearing a wetsuit, lifejacket and swim fins, he
scouted each major rapid with the guides, then swam after the rig as an odd sort of
commercial passenger. Why the swim? "I have a boring job," he says. "I want to
change my life." He also hoped to prove that James White could have drifted through
the Canyon in 1867 on (and off) a log raft in 14 days--a claim contested for 120 years.
Despite long, lonely flat stretches and a few scary rapids, Kraus made it in the 14-day
time frame. So, most likely, did White.
--bd
Team C
Anyone who has seen last year's Silent Thunder, the Legend of Team C--an amateur
video produced by amateur paddlers who feel they're not worthy of joining Dagger's
prestigious Team D--knows that the entire cast deserves accolades for their swimming
prowess. Filmed throughout the West and Southeast, the video, which won the
“Humor,” “Paddler's Choice” and “Best of” categories at the 1999 National Paddling
Film Festival, showcases less-than-stellar paddlers taking more-than-stellar swims on
some of the nation's toughest runs--including an epic, 13-roll-attempt swim on
Colorado's Gore Canyon. According to producer and distributor John Weld of
Immersion Research, filmmaker Rick Gusic is known for showcasing "skilled to
moderately skilled paddlers getting trashed in gigantic rapids."
Wanted Swim Stories
Have an epic swim tale from you or a buddy? If so, we want to hear from you. Send in
your account and if your story is soggy enough to be included in our contest, we'll
reward you with a free subscription to Paddler and a free pair of noseplugs for your
next visit to the underworld. Keep entries to 250 words and send to: Paddler Swim
Contest, P.O. Box 775450, Steamboat Springs, Co 80477; (970) 870-1404 (fax);
bieline@paddlermagazine.com.
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River Flows
Eskimo's Quadro
A Boat for the Big Boys
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
Chuck Kirk
I am a 200-lb. paddler with size 12 feet and a 34-inch inseam. In other words, I ain't
small. And my first thought after taking Eskimo's new Quadro out was that it's the most
comfortable playboat I've ever been in. Light and responsive with plenty of footroom, it
seems longer than its 7' 8" length. With new thighbraces and a thicker seat, the
Quadro is super stiff, with a lot of rocker in the bow (though large-thighed paddlers
may want the shorter thigh braces). The flat hull has non-trip edges in the bow and
stern with a razor sharp edge in the center. The bulkhead system is great--pre-shaped
and sectioned so you just put what you need in and go. It only takes about 45 seconds
(including getting in and out of the boat) to go from loose to tight just by adding an
additional section.
The Quadro is also faster than I thought, making it a great river runner. If you're one of
those who has to take a playboat down a creek this is the craft. I couldn't flatwater
cartwheel it with handpaddles, but I could get it to go vertical easily with a paddle.
Flatwater cartwheels are a lot different than in the Zwo, Eskimo's playboat of '99.
Where the Zwo slices through, the Quadro bobs through. Lighter people will probably
not be able to flatwheel it as easily. I had to force it (but I didn't have it outfitted). Also,
I'm coming from a Zwo so the more time I have in the Quadro the better I'll become.
This boat is designed as a Big Boy Playboat.
It's also a superb flatspinner. Fast and stable. I thought it was easier to spin than the
Glide--which is a great boat for me, because I'm too heavy to spin most boats. It also
Sept/Oct 2000 blunts well. Front surfs are smooth and it carves sharply and gives off a spray of
• Features water. Remember enders? Unlike many other swap-only boats, this one can still get
some air for such old school moves as pirouettes. It's a great boat to take downriver
• Hotline
and play the whole way without fear of pitoning or pinning. It even lets me pull my
• Destinations knees together while sitting for much needed R & R.
• Gear
• Skills For a rodeo rookie like me, it also has one other redeeming feature: it's easy to roll. I
• Olympic Preview rolled it on the upstream side in fast current just as easy as in calm water. With high
• Special Fishing flat sidewalls it's also stable on edge. For those like me who can only afford one boat,
Supplement it seems to do it all.
Boat Beta: length: 7'8", width: 26", wt.: 33 lbs., vol.: 50 gal., MSRP: $925. Info.: (303)
664-1629, www.eskimo-de.com.
More from
Gear
Heritage Kayaks' Tandem
Eskimo's Quadro
Dagger's Aftershock
Return to
Table of Contents
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River Flows
Dagger's Aftershock
An OC-1 with Attitude
Bulletin Boards
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John Grachella
One of the best parts about being a writer is helping change the way people think. I
hope I can help manufacturers think differently about those who kneel and use a
single blade. In particular, I hope Dagger will someday consider offering a decked
version of their new open rodeo canoe, the Aftershock. It's such a good boat that it
deserves to be paddled by as many people as possible, including hardcore decked
boaters.
When rotomolded boats come out of the oven, their cockpits are solid plastic all the
way across. That's a fact that applies to all rotomolded kayaks, C-1s and OC-1s.
When these boats leave the factory, a cockpit "plate" must be cut out so customers
can fit inside. Thus, OC-1s, like the Aftershock, are being made every day with an
intact deck to which a standard cockpit rim could easily (and inexpensively) be
molded. Decks could be left as they are or cut out so that the same boat (canoe) could
be sold to a closed boat customer or to an open boat customer.
However, the Aftershock needed to be tested the way it arrived--fully outfitted and
without a deck. First of all, this is a rodeo-specific open boat and not necessarily a
river-runner. Therefore, I prepared myself for the need to hold back a bit at my favorite
testing site, a local Class IV river during spring run off. Joe Langman, the boat's
designer, told me the Aftershock was made "... to throw ends like crazy." He went on
to say that "...if this boat ends up being capable of running rivers, that would only be a
bonus." My confidence level wasn't particularly high as my first three strokes fed me
Sept/Oct 2000 over a four-foot drop, leading into a nasty pourover, and a must-make eddy.
• Features Surprisingly, the Aftershock nailed it, dry as a bone and upright. From my point of
• Hotline view, Langman and Dagger get their bonus right out of the gate! The rest of my run
went just as smoothly but I kept forgetting to quarter waves to avoid taking on water
• Destinations and I had to bail a lot.
• Gear
• Skills Paddling the Aftershock gave me a weird feeling. The hull said I was in a really hot
• Olympic Preview C-boat, but the big cockpit opening didn't match up. Langman feels similarly. He
• Special Fishing compensates by gluing vertical foam panels between his legs and the sides of his boat
Supplement to help displace water. That's a good idea for rodeo and also for river running in this
kind of boat. NOWR rules allow for three inches of tumblehome that can be foam-
filled inside your boat. I would suggest doing this to any open boat used for serious
rodeo competition. The more water you can legally displace, the better your score will
More from be when you're riding in a hole.
Gear
The saddle in the Aftershock is Dagger's standard that comes in their Atom C-1. It's
Heritage Kayaks' Tandem
made of injection-molded plastic with a foam seat, foam knee and footpads and Velcro
Eskimo's Quadro thigh straps that hold you inside. The whole affair is easy to adjust fore and aft (on or
off the river) via thumb screws that penetrate multiple holes drilled through
Dagger's Aftershock
wing-mounts on each side of the saddle. Most paddlers will need tighter outfitting,
which is easily achievable by a bit of customization.
Return to At 8'4" long and 26.5" wide, the Aftershock is the shortest and most rockered,
Table of Contents
almost-closed boat you can buy. It rolls very easily even when full of water. The hull is
wide and stable, with a shape similar to rodeo kayaks. The ends taper up abruptly
from a very flat bottom. Thus, the boat spins great in holes, and it performs
well-balanced enders and pirouettes.
Is it fast? No, not really, but it's faster than last year's Quake (predecessor to the
Aftershock). If you put the Aftershock on either of its edges between its flat bottom and
one of its flat walls, you can make it accelerate faster than when you paddle it flat. It's
edgy enough so offside tilts come easily, but it's not catchy due to a distinct flare at the
chine. It's snappy, like a Porsche, not like a Cadillac. The more I paddled the
Aftershock, the more I decided that, with water-displacing foam walls (or better yet, a
deck), and with tighter, custom outfitting, I'd paddle it down almost anything.
Lets face it, the Aftershock is short and wide which means its stable and slowish, but
it's fun to hole-surf and wave-surf and it's great for throwing ends. Would I change
anything? You bet: give me the option of a deck, and I'd really be hooked. MSRP:
$985. Info: (423) 882-0404, www.dagger.com.
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River Flows
Ratcliffe vs. Shipley
A heavyweight match-up awaits in Olympic K-1
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
It has all the makings of a Riddick Bowe/Evander Holyfield heavyweight fight. Only in
this case the boxing ring is the slalom course in Sydney. In the two corners: Scott
Shipley from the U.S. and Paul Ratcliffe from Great Britain.
If it made the Vegas charts, Shipley would be the underdog. Ratcliffe has won the
World Cup the last two seasons, each time upsetting Shipley, who was leading going
into the finals. Shipley has held the title three times. Since the last Olympics both have
accounted for four out of five of all World Cup wins.
Shipley and Ratcliffe have dueled each other almost exclusively on the World Cup
circuit since the 1996 Olympics. Shipley, the World Cup champion that year, came
from behind to snatch top honors again in '97. Ratcliffe did the same to Shipley in '98.
Last year unmasked perhaps the most dramatic series of all, with the final World Cup
event at Sydney coming down to the last winner-take-all run. Ratcliffe gained a second
and a half on his rival to retain the title.
The first World Cup race of the 2000 season proved no different. Held in Sydney on
the Olympic course, three racers were left in the second run—Switzerland's Mattias
Rothemund, Ratcliffe, and Shipley—and each knew the podium came down to the last
run. Ratcliffe did it again, blazing down the course two seconds ahead of Shipley who
stumbled in a late gate. An Italian grabbed second to snatch the silver at Shipley's
expense, a reminder that there are more than two threats for top honors in this
Olympiad.
The reality of the situation is not lost on either of them. Despite their consistent
success in World Cup competition, neither has ever won an Olympic medal or World
Sept/Oct 2000 Championship. Last year's World Championship was a stunning reminder. They
finished their first runs first and second, with Shipley a scant eight-hundredths of a
• Features second ahead of Ratcliffe. Ratcliffe hit gate one on his final run, clearing the way for
• Hotline Shipley to snatch top honors on any other day. This time, however, it was Canada's
• Destinations Dave Ford finishing first. A missed stroke left Shipley in second for a third time.
• Gear Ratcliffe's win at the first World Cup gave him a leg up on the 2000 season, where he
• Skills was sitting 10 points ahead of Shipley with five races to go. This is an Olympic year,
• Olympic Preview however, meaning the World Cup takes second stage. Neither Ratcliffe nor Shipley
• Special Fishing will race more than half the World Cups this summer, concentrating instead on training
Supplement for the Games.
For Shipley, preparations have already begun. Eighteen countries won K-1 spots for
the Olympics. Shipley and Ratcliffe secured them for the American and British teams.
More from
The British, like many other countries, awarded their spots to the qualifying paddler if
Olympic he or she medals. This left Ratcliffe with an Olympic berth more than a year ahead of
Preview the Games. Shipley had to wait until April, after dueling it out with fellow countrymen. It
A Preview of the Coming
was the most terrifying competition of his life. "It was such an all-or-nothing event," he
Games
says. "If I won I would go to Sydney, if I lost, the boat went into the garage and I went
back to school." In a way, it was a good precursor to the Olympics. The Sydney
Ratcliffe vs. Shipley Games will have even more pressure.
Shipley envied Ratcliffe's secure position throughout the winter, but those roles
Return to switched after World Cup number one. In a surprise turn of events, Ratcliffe's
Table of Contents countrymen fought his pre-selection in court. Just after the race, he was summoned
back to England by court order, and was forced to win his country's selection races to
guarantee his spot.
In 1996 Ratcliffe and Shipley shared the same English coach. They met in the French
Alps to train together during their final preparations for Atlanta. At the time Shipley was
ranked first in the World; Ratcliffe had yet to medal in international competition. They
spent three weeks sparring on the Isere River before journeying to Atlanta where
each, in his own way, lost the Olympics. They haven't trained together since, though
they remain friendly rivals.
The location's only redeeming feature was the industrial-strength water heater the
local rafting company installed to supply showers for their customers. The two of them
would thaw their frozen gear in its bathtub before dressing for workouts. They would
then rush to the slalom course in hopes of beginning training before the cold seeped
through their wet clothes. The workouts were coachless and unorganized. Shipley and
the Canadians would hang their own gates, set their own training schedules, and
evaluate their own performances.
Ratcliffe comes from a different background. His first years as a full-time athlete were
spent at England's Holme-Pierpoint watersports center, a facility with heated locker
rooms, showers, and a man-made canal with alternate gate sites. It's also home to the
British team's coaching staff. The two athletes' different origins created evenly
matched paddlers. In practice the two train the same way. Each shuns coaching staffs
at home in favor of training alone in the winter.
Shipley and Ratcliffe pass by each other after Shipley's training run at the first World
Cup, each giving a relaxed and silent nod to the other. Five minutes later it is
Ratcliffe's turn to train. He accelerates past the starting dock and over the first drop.
One hundred and thirty-five days from now he will have run out of practice runs. He
will paddle these same few strokes when the bell rings signaling the start of the
Olympics. Most likely his rival will be either just ahead, or just behind, each vying for
gold in what Shipley has promised will be their final duel.
—edb
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River Flows
Bulletin Boards
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July / August 2000
Volume 20 • Issue No. 4
Features
Vista Grande!
Looking for a cockpit with a view?You'll find it hard to take your eyes off the
surroundings on one of the following scenic trips.
There is no I in team
For the U.S. Men's rafting team, representing the states at the World
Championships on Chile's Futaleufu River meant learning a quick lesson in
teamwork.
Hotline
Some like it Bigger
Expedition News
Resort Retort
Destinations
Nation's top river sojourns
Gear
Kayaking the Calms
Skills
Capsize Recovery
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River Flows
Vista Grande!
A scenic sampler of some of North America's most Picturesque
Bulletin Boards
waterways.
Go to the ACA
compiled by Rick Hill and Tom Bie
Everything from wildflowers to wildlife to a fleeting rainbow after a summer storm can
constitute scenic grandeur on a paddling trip. But while beauty may be in the eye of
the bow-bound beholder, there is surely nothing like the sweeping, awe-inspiring,
all-encompassing vista—those places on earth just begging for a panoramic camera.
Many waterways have their own special beauty but this is a listing of those places
where you can barely take it in, where your neck gets sore gazing up at your
surroundings and it becomes difficult to keep your eyes on the water you're
paddling—unless you're looking at a reflection of the surrounding peaks. So load up
the kids and load up the camcorder, but don't forget the wide-angle lens.
Banff/Lake Louise/Jasper/Fernie
From the Bow River Valley west to Jasper National Park and south to the Elk River
and Fernie, British Columbia, this Rockies-dominated chunk of Canada is a paddler's
scenic dreamland come true. Want a quiet canoe paddle on Lake Louise or hundreds
of other flatwater destinations in the region? No problem. How about a lazy Class I or
II float down the Kananaskis or Athabaska River or a whitewater run down the Kicking
Horse River? Practically any waterway in the region, from Cranbrook to Calgary, will
place you under the spell and within viewing distance of the majestic Canadian
Rockies. On the Bow River, you get the feeling of floating not past these awesome
peaks but through them. In 1995, the United Nations named both Banff and Lake
July / August Louise parks as a World Heritage Site. One look at the scenery found here and it's
2000 easy to understand why.
• Features Outfitters: Rocky Mountain Paddling Centre (800) 656-8288, Rocky Mountain Rafting
• Hotline Co. 1-888-518-RAFT
• Destinations
• Gear Grand Teton Natioinal Park
• Skills Whether it's canoeing on Jackson Lake or taking a scenic float on the upper Snake
• Sea Kayaking River, few places can compare to the raw beauty of the Teton Range. In truth, much of
Supplement
the view is due to what's not there: foothills. The allure of a paddle in Grand Teton
National Park lies largely in the proximity of the water to the mountains—you can
literally paddle to the base. Even on the Snake River, from Jackson Lake Dam to the
More from town of Moose, you will feel as though you can reach out and touch the glaciers
Features themselves.
Vista Grande! Outfitters: Grand Teton Lodge Company (307) 543-2811; Jackson Hole Kayak School
There is no I in team
(800) 733-2471
When discussing natural scenery, there's sometimes a bit of snobbishness put forth by
residents of the West. But that's OK—it means fewer people tramping around the
Midwest's favorite scenic places—like Pictured Rocks National Lake Shore along Lake
Superior's southern edge. Climbing anywhere from 50 to 600 feet straight up from the
lake's lapping waves, the 15 miles of sandstone cliffs present a spectacular pallet of
colors, which pour down the rock face like spilled cans of paint. The official Lake
Shore boundaries actually extend along 40 miles of coastline and include miles of
sand beaches, small sea caves and arches, and some equally impressive towering
sand dunes. You can dart out for a day paddle or take longer if you like and camp in
the backcountry.
With 15,000 square miles of prime wilderness paddling, Alaska's Prince William
Sound—and its 3,500 miles of pristine shoreline—has more bays, inlets and passages
to explore that perhaps any other sea kayak destination in the world. Choose from
such sea kayaking hotspots as 580,000-acre Kenai Fiords National Park, with its
spectacular Aialik Bay and Glacier; Harriman and College fiords, which pierce their
way deep into the Chugach Mountains; or Blackstone Bay, an accessible,
glacier-carved arm a short paddle from Whittier. Deeper into the Sound you'll find the
monolithic Columbia Glacier, which dwarfs the state of Rhode Island. Wherever you
go, expect animals as well as awe-inspiring vistas. On any given day you're as likely to
see whales, seals and sea lions as eagles, brown bear and deer.
Tatshenshini-Alsek/Glacier Bay
Flowing from the Yukon Territory of Canada through the bowels of the Fairweather
and St. Elias Range, the Tat-Alsek river system offers paddlers 180 miles of what may
be the most jaw-dropping scenery on the continent. At a point not far downstream from
the junction of the two rivers, you may count over a dozen glaciers in full view and if
you make it all the way to Alsek Bay, you'll have the majestic 15,300-foot Mount
Fairweather looming over your shoulder. For an even bigger glacier fix, once back at
sea level head south to sea kayak Glacier Bay National Park, boasting 16 tidewater
glaciers—including such classics as Riggs, McBride and Muir—and the most rapid
measured glacier retreat in the world. In the first hour alone you'll discover why it was
declared a national monument in 1925, a national park in 1980 and a World Heritage
site in 1992.
Outfitters: Alaska Discovery, 800-586-1911; Glacier Bay Sea Kayaks, (907) 697-2257
The South Nahanni River in general and Virginia Falls in particular combine to form
the centerpiece of this captivating Canadian jewel. The canyons alone make the
Nahanni River one of the most spectacular scenic destinations on earth, long popular
with climbers and paddlers looking for the ultimate backdrop. A half dozen river
sections offer the possibility for more panoramas than the eye can handle, with the
Flat River also providing an excellent Class III to Class V section within Nahanni
National Park. Spectacular side hikes in the Ragged Range like the Cirque of the
Unclimbables add to the area's awesome stature.
Exploring the waters around Maine's Mt. Desert Island is enjoyable for at least 100
different reasons, but the scenic grandeur of Cadillac Mountain and the glacier-carved
Sand Beach/Otter Cliffs section of Acadia National Park is surely one of them. Cadillac
is the highest point on the Eastern Seaboard, and its large collection of deciduous
forests can draw a paddler's eye away even from Maine's spectacularly rugged
coastline—no easy task. From Frenchman Bay to Blue Hill Bay, the view won't
disappoint. Though scenic, the waters off the coast of Maine are cold and the currents
can be difficult. Therefore, if your sea kayaking skills are limited, check into going with
an outfitter. That way you can concentrate on more important things—like taking it all
in and bringing home a few snapshots.
Outfitters: Coastal Kayaking Tours (800) 526-8615; National Park Sea Kayak Tours
(207) 288-0342;
Outfitters: O.A.R.S.
Not only is the entire 100-mile stretch of the Middle Fork protected as a National Wild
and Scenic River, but most of the deep canyon and rugged, forested mountains that
surround it are part of the Frank Church River of No Return Wilderness Area—the
largest Wilderness Area in the Lower 48. It is sometimes difficult in North America to
choose which type of scenery you wish to float through—the stark beauty of the desert
Southwest or the lush alpine forests of the Northwest or Rockies. But with the Middle
Fork, you don't have to choose. This river offers a little of both, with thick forest and
snow-capped peaks giving way to drier, desert-like landscape as the river nears the
Main Salmon. And if you get tired of taking in the surrounding scenery, just look down
at the water—the Middle Fork of the Salmon is one of the cleanest, clearest rivers in
the country.
For sheer-walled beauty, few river trips can compare to that of the Rio Grande through
Big Bend National Park. With canyons rising 1,800 feet overhead, the vistas of Big
Bend rival both the Grand Canyon and Hell's Canyon for depth and viewing pleasure.
This is also the place to paddle in the dead of winter, when freezing temperatures up
north make those destinations out of the question. One of the more popular trips in Big
Bend is the 17-mile stretch through Santa Elena Canyon, offering not only
neck-craning views of the canyon walls, but also the pleasure of a wide spectrum of
shoreline flora and fauna, from Cactus to cottonwood to kingfishers.
Na Pali Coast
The north coast of Kauai is the quintessential Hawaiian kayak trip, packed with the
sort of scenery that has made the islands famous. And there is no better way to view
this scenery than from a sea kayak, paddling through sea caves or stopping to snorkel
or beach comb along the way. The vistas from your kayak (usually a sit-on-top) will
include sandy beaches, waterfalls, ancient ruins and spectacular sea cliffs shooting
3,000 feet up from shore. The most popular stretch to paddle runs 17 miles from Kee
Beach to Polihale State Park and most people elect to camp at least a night or two
along the way. If you go without an outfitter, however, you must reserve a spot to
camp with Kauai Division of State Parks (808) 274-3444.
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River Flows
Some like it Bigger
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA Eugene Buchanan
Whether inspired by "Some Like it Big" (March/April 2000) or not, Bavaria's Arnd
Schaftlein is taking big water paddling to frightening heights. His goal: the first-ever
kayak surf of Jaws, a monstrous break off Maui's North Shore that oftentimes gets up
to 40 feet high—six and a half times as big as many modern playboats.
"I want to do it when the conditions are right and I have the right surf kayak," says an
even-keeled Schaftlein, who is having a surfboard designer custom-shape a kayak
capable of handling Jaws. "I also need to practice getting towed in behind a
Waverunner."
Schaftlein is firmly committed to his gargantuan goal. If he can't find the right person to
shape a kayak that will work, he'll do it himself. "Rush Randle (a top wind- and
strap-surfer familiar with Jaws) is helping me get the right shape for the boat," says
Schaftlein. "It'll be based on a sailboard he's used to windsurf Jaws." The aptly named
Rush, a fellow swatch pro team member, will also likely be the person in charge of
towing Schaftlein into the monolithic wave.
Locals, of course, think Schaftlein's just a tad loco. "He's 100 percent committed to
doing it," says local surf photographer Clay Rogers. "No one else is crazy enough to
even think about it."
—edb
July / August
2000
• Features
• Hotline
• Destinations
• Gear
• Skills
• Sea Kayaking
Supplement
More from
Hotline
Some like it Bigger
Expedition News
Resort Retort
Return to
Table of Contents
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River Flows
Nation's top river sojourns
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA Eugene Buchanon
A “river sojourn,” then, might be a place where you dwell on a waterway temporarily.
Such is indeed the case with the following annual gatherings, which take place every
June during American Rivers Month and draw flocks of like-minded paddlers to some
of the East's most popular waterways to camp, canoe and celebrate everything the
rivers have to offer. Although each sojourn takes place on a different section of a
different river, the majority occur in Pennsylvania, with the state's Department of
Conservation and Natural Resources (DCNR) showcasing a different river every year.
"We try to act as a catalyst to get things started, and then encourage local
organizations to develop the program in subsequent years," says the DCNR's Marian
Hrubovcak. "It's a great way to expose our various waterways to a variety of paddlers."
This year the state saw six sojourns in June. Other states have also joined suit, with
sojourns, or portions of them, occurring in Maryland, Delaware and New York.
If you participate in one, rest assured you won't be dwelling alone. Some sojourns
attract hundreds of people who join in for all, or just a portion, of the selected route.
Most gatherings last six to eight days, with several occurring concurrently. Participate
and you'll get the chance to meet new paddlers, explore new waterways and camp at
different campgrounds along the way. And the sojourns offer far more than camping
and canoeing. Organizers schedule various programs every night, from campfire
July / August sing-alongs and folk music performances to slideshows on local history, geology,
2000 culture, flora and fauna. The type of paddlecraft varies, with canoes and touring
kayaks the most common. On the few sections that offer whitewater, such as the
• Features Lehigh Gorge, outfitters often assist with rafts. Camping gear is usually moved down
• Hotline for you to the next overnight area, and shuttles are provided or set up by participants.
• Destinations Fees for the sojourns are reasonable, and are scaled down to only cover necessary
• Gear costs (many of the meals, camping areas and shuttles are donated). Expect to pay
• Skills between $100-$250 for the entire trip.
• Sea Kayaking
Supplement If you weren't fortunate enough to join one this year, make your plans to do so in 2001.
"People gain a much better understanding of the river they're on," says Hrubovcak.
"It's a fun activity for the whole family, and it enhances people's awareness and
commitment to rivers. I know some people who spend the entire month of June just
More from going from one sojourn to another."
Destinations
Delaware River Sojourn
Nation's top river sojourns
Sojourns on the Delaware, one of the longest-running sojourns in the country, don't
usually take place on continuous segments of the river, simply because the 200+ river
Return to miles are too difficult to accomplish in six or seven days. Several days of the event
Table of Contents
usually occur on the Wild and Scenic Upper Delaware, consisting of 70 miles from
Hancock, N.Y., to Port Jervis, N.Y. It is a beautiful, sparsely populated section of river
with good flow and numerous riffles. Additional days take place in Delaware Water
Gap National Recreation Area, another Wild & Scenic segment flowing from
Matamoras, N.Y., to Portland, Pa., and includes the Kittatinny Ridge area of New
Jersey's Appalachian Trail. Still more days encompass various sections of the Lower
Delaware, between Portland, and Trenton, N.J. As well as including fun-filled evenings
around a campfire and a variety of special presentations, these latter days include a
visit to the historic Washington's Crossing Area (with a trip to its museum and
monument), where Washington crossed the Delaware to attack the British at Trenton.
-Info.: Delaware & Raritan Greenway, (609) 924-4646; National Park Service, (570)
729-8251.
Now in its 10th year, the Susquehanna Sojourn, which this year took place from
Harrisburg, Pa., to Havre de Grace, Md., is one of the oldest sojourns in the country,
with the first one taking place on the river's West Branch in central Pennsylvania. From
that first event—a multi-day trip which brought together paddlers, governmental
officials, media representatives, conservationists and locals—the trip has grown into
one of the most successful sojourns in the state, this year drawing more than 200
people participating in all or part of the event's 70 miles.
The Susquehanna Sojourn adopts a different approach in that trips take place on
continuous sections of various parts of the river and its tributaries. The 1995 sojourn
took place on the Juniata River; in 1997 the sojourn traveled on the Chenango River
from Sherburne to Binghamton and then down the North Branch of the Susquehanna;
later years saw it take place on New York's Chemung River near Corning, to Sayer,
Pa., and then down the North Branch of the Susquehanna. This year's odyssey placed
an emphasis on monitoring water quality, with speakers from various watershed
associations and conservation organizations. It also featured a call back to the Civil
War, with visits to nearby Gettysburg and even a naval demonstration between
replicas of the Monitor and Merrimack warships.
-Info.: Alliance for the Chesapeake Bay, 225 Pine St., Harrisburg, PA 17101, (717)
236-8825, Ext. 17.
Sponsored by Pennsylvania DCNR, the Schuylkill River Sojourn, now in its second
year, takes participants 106 miles in seven days from Schuylkill Haven, Pa., to
Philadelphia's Fairmont Park. If you do the whole route, be prepared to paddle as
many as 20 miles per day before lounging with your paddling comrades around the
campfire. Last year, 150 people took part in the event, some for certain sections only,
while those paddling the whole thing had to negotiate seven dams. Schuylkill's history
is based on coal mining, and many of the sojourn's programs reflect that.
Reenactments of the coal mining era, and even a chance to see colm (silt) removing
equipment in action, start the event line-up. As you progress downstream, the river
environment changes from coal mining to agriculture and finally urban. In keeping with
this latter setting, on day seven the sojourn offers a tour of several sculling
boathouses. Other programs include poetry readings, visits to restaurants with street
festivals, early morning birding hikes, wildflower walks, mountain folk shows and
nightly bonfires.
Although not a "sojourn" in the Pennsylvania sense of the word, Paddle to the Bay,
held this year June 5-10, has you "temporarily dwelling on a river" every bit as much, if
not more, than its sojourn cousins. Drawing increasing numbers every year, the
120-mile trip begins on the Anacostia River near Blandenburg, Md., and ends at Pt.
Lookout State Park at the mouth of the Potomac on Chesapeake Bay. If you're looking
for a casual cruise, go with a more mainstream sojourn; at last year's sixth annual
Paddle to the Bay, 12 people started the trip and only six finished. In fact, to join the
trip you first have to complete a 20-mile trial paddle—held in April, May and early
June—to Georgetown's waterfront and back to see if you're fit enough to participate.
"We have to screen people to see if they can make it," says Robert Boone, president
of the Anacostia Watershed Society, which organizes the event. "It's not an Ironman
Triathlon or anything, but it does take some physical development."
Although you'll camp along the way as in other sojourns, you won't find special
programs and presentations en route. More than likely, you'll be too tired to enjoy them
anyway. The trip does have a purpose, however, above and beyond letting you know
how out of shape you are. "It calls attention to the urban impacts affecting the
Anacostia, and the fact that places to camp Huck Finn-style are disappearing rapidly,"
says Boone. "We want people to know that the Maryland side is semi-protected and
that they can experience adventure right in their own neighborhood."
—For more information on Paddle to the Bay, contact the Anacostia Watershed
Society at (301) 699-6204, or visit www.anacostiaws.org.
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River Flows
Kayaking the Calms
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA Rick Hill
It may have already occurred to you that specifying a particular group of kayaks as
"recreational" implies others are not. Thus—are you now wondering if boats exist
specifically for tasks such as hauling wood (work kayaks) or, maybe, just paddling to
and from one's job (commuter kayaks)? I certainly don't know of any. Let us concede,
then, that unless you've hired on as an Eco-tourism guide or are subsisting on seal
meat somewhere, most any kayak you paddle is a recreational kayak.
Nonetheless, the paddlesports industry needed some way to categorize all those
large-cockpit kayaks accessorizing the roofs of SUVs in television ads which, also, just
happen to be emerging as the biggest sellers in most manufacturers' inventories. This
may be because a vast majority of the populace does not envision themselves
crashing down Class V rapids or paddling 150 miles of wilderness coastline when
saying to themselves, "I think I'd like to try a kayak."
Where they do see themselves is coasting down lazy rivers, poking around a pond
with their pooch, or dropping a line over the side in front of the summer cabin. They do
not see themselves rolling—and they worry about drowning. Subsequently, the
recreational kayak has emerged as the ultimate "starter" boat for those wanting to just
try it out or who simply need a small and stable platform for enjoying the outdoors. The
recreational boat meets such needs by incorporating the five following basic design
characteristics: relative shortness (easy to get off the SUV); rotomolded construction
July / August (inexpensive); large cockpits (don't want to drown); very high initial stability (don't want
to roll); and built-in cup holders (want to relax).
2000
• Features But are they any fun to paddle? We sampled just a few to find out—there are many
more out there—and were pleasantly surprised.
• Hotline
• Destinations Sierra by Perception
• Gear
• Skills Length: 11'1"; Width: 28.25"; Wt.: 43 lbs; MSRP: $479; Info.: (800) 59-KAYAK,
• Sea Kayaking www.kayaker.com
Supplement
Standard features: recessed deck fittings, carry toggles, adjustable back, padded seat,
drain plugs, adjustable foot braces, beverage holder. Options: child's seat, rear hatch
and bulkhead.
More from
Gear This is an attractive looking boat with recessed channels on the underside to assist
with tracking and, I assume, provide additional stiffness to the hull. The cockpit is huge
Kayaking the Calms (47 inches long) and provides enough room for an optional child, dog or assorted gear.
A shallow V hull configuration allowed a bit of lively feel with my 200 lbs. of cargo, yet
the initial and secondary stability is very good—at least to the point where water starts
Return to coming over the cockpit. Top speed is about what you would expect for an 11-foot
Table of Contents
boat, though I wish it took a little less effort to keep it there. The Sierra tracked well,
however, which is exactly what one worries about in a kayak of this length. This is also
a deep boat without a lot of deck next to the coaming so you can take a higher stroke
angle without banging the knuckles. Overall, a nice platform with plenty of volume for
wiggly paddlers and passengers while still maintaining a sporty feel. A top feature?
The cup holder provides a slot for a handle.
Length: 12'; Width: 30"; Wt.: 50 lbs.; MSRP: $599; Info.: (978) 456-9200,
www.waldenkayak.com
Standard features: recessed deck fittings, front and rear deck rigging, carry toggles,
adjustable back, padded seat, drain plugs, adjustable foot braces, beverage holder,
built-in storage/cooler.
Walden should probably get partial credit for starting this trend. It was Walden, some
years ago, who began aggressively marketing a short, inexpensive kayak made of
recycled materials called The Naturalist and within a year or so everybody was
following suit. Though a bit longer than the original, the Scout maintains the same
characteristics including a large 54" cockpit that will accommodate a small child or dog
in front of the paddler. Hull characteristics include a pronounced keel at the rear with
rounded sides and a generally flat bottom resulting in rock solid stability and good
tracking. The top speed and acceleration falls in the average range with other boats in
this review and though you can lean it—it would rather not. However, this kayak is
really designed as the quintessential flatwater platform and to that end Walden has
built-in a small "cooler" under the rear hatch—basically a molded rectangular
compartment sans insulation. Other "recreational" features include recessed grooves
on either side of the cockpit for securing the paddle when your hands are otherwise
occupied and, of course, the obligatory cup holder. Another good choice for poking
around quiet lakes and streams—and you can keep the fish on ice.
Bayou by Dagger
Length: 10'8"; Width: 28"; Wt.: 45 lbs.; MSRP: $529; Info.: (865) 882-0404,
www.dagger.com
Standard features: recessed deck fittings, front and rear deck rigging, carry toggles,
adjustable back, padded seat, drain plugs, adjustable foot braces, beverage holder.
This is a shorter and less sleek-looking kayak than some of the other boats reviewed,
but it doesn't paddle that way. Though the top speed isn't any better than the rest it is
the best at maintaining that speed. A more rounded hull shape and flatter bottom also
contributes to excellent stability, and the boat stiffens almost to a stop when leaned.
The cockpit, however, is smaller than most other models (36 inches) and is more
reminiscent of many entry level sea kayaks now on the market. This means you can
get some knee under the front deck for bracing while still leaving enough room to fall
out during a capsize. Being shallower and shorter than most of the boats in the review,
I assumed it would also be stiffer. So I was surprised to find some subtle oil canning.
Still, the shorter length made it fun to put on edge for quick turns and the bottom flex
was not pronounced. As for the all-important beverage holder, its was the shallowest,
but one which will easily hold a big cup with a handle—letting you take along your
favorite ceramic coffee mug.
Length: 13' 8"; Width: 29.5"; Wt.: 54 lbs.; MSRP: $539; Info.: (800) 595-4400,
www.otccanoe.com
Standard features: recessed deck fittings, front deck rigging, carry toggles, adjustable
back, padded seat, drain plugs, adjustable foot braces, beverage holder, sliding seat.
Options: rudder, rear hatch.
Old Town manufactures many kayaks that fall within the "recreational" designation and
one of their shorter kayaks may have been more appropriate for comparison with the
rest of these boats. Still, the Loon 138 is a fair representation of many of the
recreational boats out there as long as you keep in mind that it is up to three feet
longer than the other boats in this review. Having said that, it is not surprising that the
Loon 138 had the best top speed though it was not the most efficient. Again, the
cockpit is monstrous and will accommodate small pets or a child. Old Town has also
gotten innovative with an adjustable seat that allows the paddler's position to change
relative to the center of the boat. Thus, with the seat slid all the way back this is a
good tracking kayak while a more forward position increases its maneuverability. Like
the Walden, paddle storage is provided on the side deck though I occasionally caught
a knuckle on one of the fittings. This is a very stable and roomy platform and the
adjustable seat allows a variety of applications. My only complaint is that Old Town
does not provide tie-down fittings on the rear deck and there is no way to rig for a
paddle float rescue. The exceptional initial stability of the boat might argue for never
needing to do that and it does not beckon one to push the envelope, but the larger
volume also suggests some will venture into rougher conditions and any craft can be
capsized. Otherwise, a fine cup holder complements a well thought-out cruiser for
most recreating endeavors or even light touring.
Cruz by Necky
Length: 12'6"; Width 29"; Wt.: 44 lbs.; MSRP: $540; Info.: (604) 850-1206,
www.necky.com
Standard features: deck fittings, front and rear deck rigging, carry toggles, adjustable
back, adjustable foot braces, drop skeg. Options: rear hatch, bulkhead, padded seat.
With no cup holder and deck fittings attached with hardware, Necky's Santa Cruz
doesn't project much flash. But a multi-chine hull configuration coupled with a bit of
rocker places it among the top for paddling responsiveness. Top speed and
acceleration is in the average range but turning responsiveness, especially when
heeled, is better than most. This would be the other boat I would take for an outing in
the waves. Stability is good and a smaller cockpit (36 inches) makes it easier to grab
hold with the knees. Yet, as with the Bayou, there is still plenty of space for getting in
and out. The rocker results in a little less tracking integrity than some other models so
Necky has compensated with a drop skeg mounted on the stern. Basically a
non-turning rudder, you just lower it down when needed. This kayak definitely will hold
its own if you desire a boat that will do double duty as a stable platform yet get the
adrenaline pumping if you want to get fancy. Just don't lean too far with your coffee
cup because it is going to slide all over the place.
Length: 12'1"; Width: 29.5"; Wt.: 50 lbs.; MSRP: $549; Info.: (336) 434-7470,
www.youcanpaddle.com
Standard features: recessed deck fittings, front and rear deck rigging, carry toggles,
adjustable back, padded seat, drain plugs, adjustable foot braces, extra flotation,
beverage holder, day hatch.
Once again Wilderness Systems has come up with a unique looking boat with the
name to match. Although its shape in front is similar to that of the Sierra, the Pungo's
narrow and sloping back is reminiscent of the speed boats on Miami Vice. This was
the only boat in the review that did not sit flat on the grass prior to launch, due in part
to a unique design incorporating multi chines, a pronounced keel line, and what can
best be described as tumblehome. The top speed is equal to or slightly better than the
rest of the pack and the acceleration is noticeably better. There is also a very
responsive feel to the boat, and it may be one to grab if you are inclined to play in
small surf. Still, it tracks well, without the need for complicated correction strokes.
The cockpit is similar in size to the Sierra, as is the depth. But the hull design helps it
get on edge a little easier, and once there the turns come more quickly. Stability,
subsequently, is a little looser, but still well within the acceptable range of a
"recreational" kayak. In short, it's a very nice combination of recreational platform with
enough pizzazz to get a little adventurous. As a bonus, it comes with a small
waterproof bag sealed under a rear hatch for day items. It's also clearly the winner
with regards to the deepest beverage holder of the lot.
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River Flows
Capsize Recovery
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA Kent Ford
As a sea kayaker, you need to know how to recover from a capsize quickly, so you
can minimize exposure to the elements. Your goal is to be in the safety of your boat,
and paddle away in a comfortable, stable manner. Even without a roll, most flips are
no big deal if you are well practiced at capsize recovery options, and prepared for the
water.
No amount of reading will completely prepare you for threatening situations. You have
to practice! For the best success, take a class and learn some of the finer points of
each capsize recovery. With each situation there are several options that work.
Experimenting will help you understand which variation is appropriate for a true
dilemma.
With every capsize recovery the objective is to get back in the boat and empty the
water out. These two essentials happen in either order, depending on the rescue. The
primary determining factor is water temperature. Cold water can rob you of strength
after only a few minutes. Dress for the water temperature in case of an unexpected
swim, and think through rescues that get you out of the water quickly.
Assisted Rescue
The most common assisted-rescue occurs when the rescuing paddler pulls alongside
the swamped boat to stabilize it for reentry. The rescuer leans over and spans the
cockpits with a paddle to immobilize the boats. Maintaining a low center of gravity
makes re-entry easier. Usually this means crawling onto the boat with your chest on
the rear deck. To get up on the deck, kick your feet up, so you are laying on the
surface, and then pull the kayak under you.
From this low position you can slide into the cockpit, and twist into the seat. As you
climb in, keep in balance by twisting toward your friend. Then put your skirt on, pump
out the water, and stabilize yourself before releasing and continuing. An alternative to
pumping (especially if the boat has a bulkhead to keep the rear compartment dry) is
the T rescue, where the rescuer moves perpendicular to the swamped boat and lifts
the bow while you push down on the stern. Once the boat is emptied, flip it rightside
up again and pull it into the bow-to-stern stabilizing position for re-entry. If the
swamped boat doesn't have a watertight bulkhead, it can be pulled further over the
deck to drain it completely. This TX rescue takes more effort, lots of teamwork, and
risks damage to the boats. Usually paddlers will choose to reenter and pump out boats
that don't have a bulkhead.
July / August
2000 If a paddler has trouble re-entering the boat, you can also make a stirrup from a loop
of rope or webbing by wrapping it around the paddle to provide a welcome step for
• Features re-entry. Wrap the stirrup close to the boat, to make it secure. This stirrup can be
• Hotline adapted to many of the rescues.
• Destinations
• Gear Self Rescue
• Skills
The conditions that might cause you to flip often make getting back in the boat
• Sea Kayaking challenging. Getting assistance with re-entry is the best option. If you flip out of range
Supplement
of assistance, however, a paddle float outrigger can provide extra stability. First, hang
on to all your equipment. Then, you use the paddle with a paddle float to form an
outrigger held perpendicular to your boat.
More from
Skills After the swim hook a leg into the boat. This frees both hands to attach and inflate the
paddle float. This is harder than you might think. A foam paddle float is often preferred
Capsize Recovery in cold regions, where cold hands and cold water make inflating a float difficult. Once
the float is ready, grasp the paddle shaft and cockpit rim to form an outrigger. Then
kick with your legs to plane your body out before pulling the stern deck under your
Return to chest. Rest your legs on the paddle shaft, then slide one leg in and then the other.
Table of Contents
Turning toward the paddle float will help you lean in that direction, so you can
establish a balanced sitting position. At this point use your bilge pump to empty the
water. Stow the pump and paddle float, then continue on your way.
By carefully flipping the boat before you re-enter, you can keep out some of the water
and reduce your pumping time. This requires a snappy kick of your legs while you lift
and twist the bow. Some boats have special deck rigging which simplifies a paddle
float re-entry. Deck rigging also leaves your hands free to pump and attach the skirt.
Practice capsize recovery in warm water and calm conditions, so you'll gain
confidence. Take a class to learn some of the finer points and get feedback on your
technique. Don't underestimate how difficult it can be to maneuver into a helpful
position. These rescues are harder than meets the eye, so please practice!
-Author Kent Ford produced Performance Sea Kayaking, which recently passed the
100,000 viewer mark, and recently released In the Surf! Find more tips at
www.performancevideo.com.
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River Flows
In the wake of Shackleton
Sea Kayaking South Georgia Island
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
Agnus Finney
Explorer Sir Ernest Shackleton's boat, The Endurance, was crushed by ice in the
Weddell Sea in 1915. Shackleton escaped and subsequently saved his companions
by sailing a 22-foot open whaling boat 800 miles from the Antarctic Peninsula to South
Georgia Island, then crossing South Georgia on foot in order to reach help at an old
whaling station.
T.S. Eliot had read about this epic and refers, in his masterpiece The Wasteland, to an
incident where the three members of the group that crossed South Georgia over
unmapped and untrodden terrain were "under the constant delusion that there was
one more member than could actually be counted."
We felt the same way, as I and two companions spent a day and a half hauling our
kayaks and equipment up to the 400-meter saddle of Shackleton Gap, including six
hours of hiking into a 25-knot headwind with both rain and whiteout conditions on a
snow-covered glacier. A great feeling of humility at the fortitude of these early
explorers helped power us on each step. There was always "The Boss"—as
July / August Shackleton was known—or some other form of human inspiration traveling with us in
2000 the wilds at the bottom of the planet.
• Features South Georgia lies as a lonely wind- and weather-ravaged island 800 nautical miles
• Hotline east of Cape Horn. In winter, the sea-ice comes to within 30 nautical miles, and in
• Destinations summer the coasts in places can be awash with ice that has calved from one of the
• Gear many glaciers that cascade into the sea, or adorned by the odd rogue berg that has
escaped from the confines of the Weddell Sea and silently floated northward.
• Skills
• Sea Kayaking Wade Fairley and I had traveled to South Georgia two years earlier en route to
Supplement
paddling for three weeks along parts of the Antarctic Peninsula. Sometime after that
trip Wade suggested that we attempt a circumnavigation of South Georgia. I initially
thought this was lunacy but, after poring over the charts, decided that it may be
More from feasible.
Sea Kayaking It took nearly a year to get authorization from the British authorities in the Falkland
Supplement Islands. Not surprisingly, they were reluctant to grant a permit for what seemed an
In the wake of Shackleton outlandish idea. A range of support material, including a positive letter from the original
surveyor of South Georgia—and some fortuitous staff changes—saw the permit
Sea Kayak Accessories heading our way. By this stage the third member of our party had dropped out and
Thinking about buying a
Wade chose Bob Powell as his replacement—a North American who we'd both
touring kayak? worked with as raft guides.
We had no intention of relying on either. We had worked out escape routes off the wild
west coast, had crampons, ropes and ice-axes to facilitate this, and the knowledge
that if it was anything more serious 36 hours would be too late anyway.
Thirty-eight days of food, fuel and related paraphernalia made for heavy boats and
impressive blisters as we headed north. Fourteen days of food had also been cached
at the southern tip of the island. The barometer stayed high as we pushed hard
northward for a week. Even though it stayed high, in any two-hour period we got rain,
hail, snow and sunshine, all the while traveling past steep, inhospitable clifflines that
came straight out of the sea. On some days it wasn't possible to land for twelve hours
at a stretch and when we did we had tussles with a problem we hadn't foreseen from
the safety of our couches in Australia: fur seals.
It was the height of fur seal breeding season and our route took us into the most
populated breeding area on earth. The males had come ashore a month earlier and
started the ferocious and bloody process of staking out their territories, and the
females had come ashore over the last few days to give birth and would then be "in
season" again. An adult male fur seal has inch-long incisors, an extremely infectious
bite, is twice the size of a Rottweiler and can do 20 km. per hour chasing you down the
beach. The trick to dealing with them was to work out where their territories lay, and to
try and land somewhere in between. If they had spent the last month fighting with their
neighbor in order to determine that line, then they would be reluctant to move too
close to you and start the fighting afresh. That was the theory we developed anyway.
Toward the end of the first week, after having nearly been blown out to sea on two
occasions and having been harassed by seals many other times, we paddled into
Right Whale Bay, which was, we were told, the last relatively seal-free beach before
Elsehul and Undine Harbor at the northern tip. Our information was wrong but the
unsheltered center of the beach had the least density of seals and, after half an hour
of struggling across the sand with our loaded boats while fending off the odd male with
our paddles, we had an exposed, windblown site for our tent.
The next morning I went to get some fresh water about 400 meters from camp. The
"territories" theory seemed to be working until I looked up to see my two companions
being chased down the beach by an aggressive male fur seal. Bob was trailing and
just as the seal was about to latch onto his backside he tripped over his big feet and all
6'7" of him fell in a heap on the beach, where he adopted the universally recognized
fur seal posture of submission. The seal wandered off—a close escape for Bob and
his precious drysuit.
As we headed off in our boats we knew we had a much worse fur seal scenario ahead
of us if we attempted to land at Elsehul. We were right—the number of seals there
forced us to push north, to Bird Island and the small albatross and fur seal research
station. As we sat rafted up in our boats trying to contact Bird Island by radio, there
was a profusion of wildlife around us. There were penguins and fur seals swimming in
the water, and hundreds of birds both in the air and adorning the ominous 300-meter
cliffs above us.
The southern oceans are the most fertile feeding grounds on earth and it's hard to
imagine its abundance of wildlife. Every food chain has its share of predators, the
most feared close to South Georgia being the Leopard Seal. Leopards have been
known to attack humans and sink inflatable boats left in the water overnight. We were
still trying to contact Bird Island when out of the swirling water slid the evil-looking
reptilian snout of a Leopard Seal. But this one was relatively small so I took my
camera out—just as it rose from the water and bit the bow of my boat! It then surfaced
next to Wade for a nibble on his paddle before heading out after easier quarry. The
three of us were still stuck off the northern tip of South Georgia in minimal visibility,
unable to see Bird Island, with our route of retreat being a 30-kilometer paddle to a
beach that had caused us all sorts of problems.
We struck out across the Sound by compass, since Bird Island was still enshrouded in
mist. On pulling clear of the Cape, the big swells from the west coast announced their
presence by the muffled roar of surf on the far rocks. Bird Island was only 150 meters
away before its jagged shoreline appeared. And, as we had feared, a strong tide was
running against us. Just like Shackleton, who had trouble landing on South Georgia 85
years earlier, we had to paddle in close to the rocks where the current was weakest
but just out of reach of the pounding surf. Help was too far away now—one wrong
move and we were on the rocks. I was in front and at the worst point of our snail-like
crawl when we came to a rock outcrop where the current pushed in closest with its
greatest velocity.
A brief glance to check on the others and I was into it, windmilling my arms as fast as
they would go. Only a meter at a time, then flail for an eternity. And another meter.
While my body was at its extremity I remember my mind being incredibly calm and
analytical—What were the safety margins involved? Fallback positions?
Consequences? Could I get a fraction closer? Another backwash, check on the others,
brace. One more surge and I was there. Relief, but then another anxious eternity as
first Wade and then Bob inched past. I wasn't out of the fire until all three of us were
past. The conditions eased a little after this and an hour later we were being kindly and
expertly guided through the absolute morass of fur seals at Jordan Cove by the
leading light of the British Antarctic Survey. Then a hot shower and shepherd's pie!
The next morning the barometer dropped like a stone. Our first section of west coast
lay before us, and we were very cognizant of overstaying our welcome in the cramped
confines. Some big swells greeted us, along with lots of rebound and a few particularly
tense minutes in between a rock outcrop, an iceberg and the Cape, with waves going
every which way.
Once past the Cape, the paddling was uncomfortable as well, bouncing us around like
a cork, slop landing on our decks, and only 1- to 2-kilometer visibility. Because it was
obscured by mist, we were forced to make an 11-kilometer crossing by compass to
Wilson's Harbor. Halfway across, a wave landed on my back deck and over I went!
Upside down, five kilometers off the coast of South Georgia—what a nightmare. Cold,
fear, sort your head out, roll back up. Two hours later we were pulling into Wilson's
having only made 30 kilometers after a long, hard day paddling. It would be another 30
kilometers between the most optimistic landing spots once farther south.
Inclement weather kept us at Wilson's for the next six days and on the seventh day we
decided to go paddling. I rose at 5 a.m. but it was still too rough. A couple of hours
later it settled down so we headed up the Harbor and out around Saddle Island where
it began to get lumpy. A kilometer across to Cape Demidov and the start of the most
disorienting waves I've ever experienced—the type that plagued Shackleton during his
entire 800-mile journey. A convex coastline causes waves to come from all angles and
the feeling of disorientation is intense—moving up, down, sideways, forward and
backward—all on a fraction of one swell. And then there are the "ordinary" problems of
these headlands—reefs, bomboras, grounded icebergs and a shoreline that is steep,
dark and craggy, with a pounding surf at its base. Every third or fourth stroke was a
brace and if you had problems the others wouldn't have been able to assist you
anyway. After we pulled in at Cheapman's Bay and set up camp to the background
noise of the crackling glacier, we realized we had traveled less than 20 kilometers and
were totally exhausted.
The next day we paddled across the mouth of King Haakon Bay to Shallop Cove and
walked up to the saddle behind it for a view down the southern part of the west coast.
Immediately south were two enormous glaciers, followed by the Fanning Ridge, a
1,000-meter-high range that dropped straight into the sea, with surf stretching for over
a kilometer out to sea from its northernmost point. We returned to our boats and found
a beach to set up camp. It was a subdued and pensive threesome in the tent that
night. Our fallback was to paddle back to King Haakon Bay and then carry our gear
over the legendary Shackleton Gap, though we were unsure what that terrain would
be like. But we had also come here to paddle around the island. The next morning I
arose and packed my bags but the slow speed of the other two informed me that we
were all of the same opinion—the west coast was too dangerous and we would be too
far out of our comfort zones. Shackleton's Gap was to be our new route south. The
Gap would presumably have its own assortment of problems but there was a general
lifting of spirits, though a residuary disappointment at not being able to paddle that
magnificent coastline.
Shackleton's Gap didn't disappoint us. At the crest we parted company with the ghosts
of Shackleton, Crean and Worsley who headed south across the icecap in leather
boots with brass screws as crampons. We had our own problems. What would the
descent be like? It could be ice falls or rock cliffs. As my boat started to overtake me
on the descent I decided to jump aboard and slide. The icefalls moved in closer and
closer from the south and there were rock outcrops to the north, but our narrow snow
slope continued down and down, with the three of us grinning with glee. Then I looked
up to see Wade's kayak careening toward crevasse and icefall territory. Fortunately it
hit some pressure ridges, had some air time, and slowed sideways to a stop. There
was no substantial damage so fits of laughter ensued. The snowslope kept heading
downward and eventually stopped only fifty meters from the beach.
The next three and a half weeks were then spent paddling down the relatively gentle
east coast. We still had 40- to 50-knot winds hammer us as we paddled across the
mouths of some of the bays. We found ourselves plowing through ice that had calved
off the glaciers, and had our tent blown flat by winds so strong that both ourselves and
our kayaks were blown along the beach. At Larsen Harbor, Wade and I climbed up
higher and found ourselves surrounded by majestic, wedding cake-clad peaks of
1,000-2,000 meters in altitude, with the deep blue Drygalski Fiord below us, and the
awesome peace and solitude of a magnificent wilderness surrounding us.
South Georgia never let up on the challenges. Even asleep on a calm evening there
was the threat that we had parked our tent or kayaks in the middle of an elephant
seal's preferred route to a mud wallow. But this was all part of the privilege of being
able to experience and live this subantarctic gem to its fullest. As I lay awake on our
last night, with the sounds of King and Gentoo penguins trumpeting and squawking,
the "slop, slop, slop" of a female Elephant seal traveling across a nearby stream, the
belching of the males down on the shore, and the haunting call of the Light-mantled
Sooty Albatross as a refrain, I was aware, like Shackleton, of how privileged I was to
experience this extraordinary island.
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River Flows
Sea Kayak Accessories
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA Rick Hill
Acquiring a sea kayak is pretty much like buying a car or house: the purchase price is
just the beginning. Once you use it a couple of times you think of little ways to
enhance the experience. Houses add garbage disposals and patio doors. Automobiles
acquire floor mats and stereos. Kayaks have their own set of toys—known as
accessories—which aren't critical but are indispensable once you've gotten used
them. Following are a few can't-live-without items to add to your gear closet.
My touring kayak is an 18-foot by 22-inch fiberglass boat advertised as a fast hull with
plenty of gear capability. It's indeed all of that, but it's also a pain in the neck to pack.
And after 10 years of crash landings on rocky beaches, it leaks. Subsequently, most of
my gear gets encased in waterproof bags spread generously to fill that advertised gear
space. Though I have a collection of adequate tubular sacks, I've grown weary of
remembering which one has my right shoe and clean underwear. I've yearned for a
duffel I could toss everything into and force feed into the stern. It would need to be
easy to use, couldn't leak, and the material bunchable to fit in a tapered compartment.
Other people have thought the same because a number of companies now produce
them.
This is a 30-inch-long, 3,750-cubic-inch duffel bag ($48) with an opening that travels
almost the full length of the bag. Radio frequency welded seams are at the ends and
closure, which is good, as seams are usually the first area to fail, and the less the
better. The fabric is waterproof, durable and pliable enough to bunch into whatever
shape is needed. It slid nicely into both fiberglass and plastic compartments without
sticking.
To seal it, you fold a top flap three times. Buckles on each end snap into cinch straps
and are tightened down. The problem with this system is that the seal is largely
dependent on the amount of tension keeping the folds tight—which can be effected by
how full the bag is. GAIA countered this by installing a stiffening band in each of the
lips that "key" into each other on the initial fold. Although an under-packed bag allows
a chance for water to seep in, I experienced no leakage testing a three-quarters-filled
bag. It took two attempts to get the seal right, but I was able to submerge the bag for a
minute, fold side up, without anything getting wet. A purge valve on one end assists in
venting air. I was also easily able to get a sleeping bag and two weeks' worth of
clothes packed inside knowing that locating items later wouldn't feel like finding the
July / August prize in a box of Cracker Jacks. Cinch straps around the middle compact the load,
making all seven sizes easy to wedge into tight compartments. Info.: (423) 746-1313,
2000 www.pi-outdoors.com.
• Features
Watershed's Chattooga
• Hotline
• Destinations Watershed makes three sizes of duffel-shaped bags. I tested the 1,800-cubic-inch
• Gear Chattooga, a 21-inch-long by 10-inch-high bag with a seam configuration similar to the
• Skills GAIA with an opening extending the length of the bag. The fabric is stiffer and
• Sea Kayaking reminiscent of army surplus rubberized bags, and the outer coating absorbs less water
Supplement than standard weave bags. The closure system is so simple it shouldn't work—but it
does (envision a thick, rubberized zip-lock). Centered on each side are two rubber
flaps to help pull the opening apart. To re-seal, start at one end and squeeze the
edges together. You can also roll down the closure and buckle it to the sides for added
More from security. I tested it without the roll down and found no leakage, whether it was
Sea Kayaking upside-down or right-side up.
Supplement
In the Chattooga size, the bag would make a great overkill food and kitchen
In the wake of Shackleton bag—though a little on the small side for clothing and sleeping gear. For the latter, go
Sea Kayak Accessories with the 34-inch-long, 6,400-cubic-inch Colorado. Watershed also makes a
900-cubic-inch bag. My only criticism with the Watershed line is that the fabric's
Thinking about buying a pliability makes it more difficult to conform to a hull shape, and the outer coating is
touring kayak? stickier. So is the price. The Chattooga lists for $89 while the Colorado runs $130.
Cascade Design/SEALLINE
This bag comes in one size and is constructed of PVC with welded seams. It also has
a plastic stiffener in the lid and a zippered opening for access. SEALLINE includes Zip
Lips, two pieces of brocade fabric that close over the zipper (like lips) along with a
PVC flap. If you capsize, water will still get in through the zipper, but contents are well
protected from rain or casual spray. The bag has a small mesh pocket sewn just below
the opening for quick grab items like sunscreen. The top of the bag features adjustable
bungee cords and D-rings for attaching a chart case. Four elastic cords with plastic
hooks make it easy to get on and off the deck. A detachable strap is provided to let it
double as an onshore shoulder bag. At $62, it remains one of my favorites for a kayak
glove compartment and shore bag. Info.: (800) 531-9531, www.cascadedesigns.com.
Mark Pack
These bags keep popping up via various distributors or under the original
manufacturers' names. They're constructed of coated nylon with a plastic stiffener in
the top to give the bags a semi-rigid tunnel shape. Small plastic hooks attach to
adjustable nylon webbing at the corners, which clip to deck eyelets. Many also come
with a water bottle that attaches with Velcro. The bags ($52.50) come in a variety of
sizes, including a large model that wraps around the front of the cockpit coaming like a
neck pillow. On the downside, they have number of un-taped seams and an
unprotected zipper that allow spray to seep in. Access is via a zippered opening, and
there is plenty of room to get a hand in to rummage around. All in all not a bad product
at an economical price for general use when substantial water resistance is not a
priority. Info.: (510) 452-0243.
Harmony
Basically, this is a small Watershed bag with the same Zip Lock closure and fabric.
Harmony has added a detachable set of meshed pockets on the top for items that can
get wet. You could also use the clips to attach a chart case. The configuration is that
of a pouch laying flat on the deck with the profile determined by whatever is placed
inside it. Just for grins, I inserted the plastic stiffener from a SEALLINE bag for a
domed look and it worked well enough that I'd consider tailoring a rigid roof on my own
bag. It's waterproof when sealed correctly, and provides a legitimate storage space for
a camera or other items that shouldn't get wet. My only concern is that its closures
sometimes take a decent tug to open and usually require two hands (admittedly, I
have rarely been in a situation where I could only spare one hand). To seal the bag
takes a good feel with two sets of fingers; there's a tendency in hurried situations not
to close it correctly.
My sample had nylon webbing and buckles for attaching the bag to the deck. To make
it easily detachable I'd add some plastic snaps and cord. D-rings near the opening
provide an attachment point for a carrying strap. For $100, it's a solid, waterproof,
deck storage system. It would also serve as an emergency bail-out bag that could
swim into shore with you. Info.: (800) 59-KAYAK, www.kayaker.com.
Voyageur
Voyageur has taken the route they've used for years on camera bags by designing a
deck bag ($150) with a waterproof zipper. Basically a rectangular pouch, Voyageur
added end panels on front and back to provide greater volume and reduce stress on
the zipper when filled. The zipper is located diagonally across the top; I recommend
orienting the bag so you're pulling toward yourself to close it. The last little tug on the
zipper ensures its waterproofness, and the leverage is better pulling toward you rather
than away.
Eight D-rings and nylon webbing with snaps allow you to custom attach the bag to
eyelets. Detaching and re-attaching the bag is simple. A potential drawback, however,
is the position of the zipper on top where water can pool. Otherwise the bag is
watertight when sealed and provides secure storage for cameras and electronics.
Additional D-rings provide a good spot to clip a chart case (which would cover the
zipper and lessen pooling problems), and a detachable shoulder strap comes
standard. Info.: (800) 942-2603, www.madrivercanoe.com.
Yes, this is for the kayaker with everything. I became sold on the idea after a day
paddle in Tampa last winter when staying out of the sun was just as important as
staying upright. The Bimini ($169) is a lightweight, tubular frame that when extended
provides a small awning to block the sun. A flat plate and tube attaches with screws or
bolts to the deck of the kayak (or the gunwales of a canoe), with the rest of the
structure sliding into it like a break-down paddle. You can mount the plate on the side,
front or back of the cockpit, and the frame can be angled fore and aft or laid flat on
either deck. Height and width are adjustable, as is the canopy's angle. The canopy is
made of lightweight canvass and is easily removable. A drawback is what a deployed
Bimini will do in a stiff breeze. I've sailed down-wind with an unfeathered paddle held
over my shoulders, so I've no doubt what would happen if its 770 square inches of
fabric grabbed a serious hold of some wind. Info.: (800) 422-2482, www.deluge.com.
No rocket science here—just some refinements on an old idea for keeping your paddle
attached to the kayak. With coated wire attached to a brass clip that snaps onto an
eyelet, Deluge's Paddle Leash ($18) has a strap that loops around the paddle and
through the plastic buckle before securing to itself with Velcro. Rip the Velcro loose,
and the strap slips off for an unencumbered roll or a surf landing. The only drawback
might be sand or grit getting into the Velcro, which could hamper the fastening
mechanism. Other than that, it's a great way, if not the best, for keeping your paddle
with you when the going gets rough. Info.: (800) 422-2482, www.deluge.com.
What innovations can be done to a paddle float? GAIA's Big Swell ($35) tweaked the
standard shape, installed a couple of mouth-friendly valves and made it double
chambered, making it safer and offering more inflation variations with the paddle
inside. A more streamlined shape provides for quicker inflation (three breaths per side)
and less wiggle room when cinched around smaller touring blades. A mesh bottom
allows quick drainage once you're finished. Though I can't substantiate the
manufacturer's claim of greater buoyancy compared to other floats, it does provide
more potential stability. The double chamber has flatter sides, meaning more stability
on edge than traditional envelope shapes. An optional bite valve can be fitted over the
existing push-pull valves. It worked fine except for the tendency to release air before
the valve got pushed shut. Info.: (423) 746-1313, www.pi-outdoors.com.
Epic Paddles'
Length Lock
A paddle barely qualifies as an accessory seeing as your kayak isn't much good
without one. But a second paddle counts and with Epic's Length Lock you get so much
variety you may never buy another. Length Lock is a new twist on the standard
break-apart paddle by allowing for 10 centimeters of variation in length and the
capability to dial up any feather angle you desire. Epic has stretched the basic ferrule
(the narrow part of the shaft that fits into the second shaft) and replaced the standard
push-button locking device with a collar you twist lock in the two halves. The ferrule is
diagramed with marks for various feather angles as well as graduations for length.
Twist the paddle to the desired angle and a right or left hand feather, slide the shaft in
or out for the desired length and then tighten the collar. The collar actually makes for a
slightly more rigid connection than do the push button designs though it requires a bit
more care and maintenance. Any of the Epic line can be ordered with Length Lock for
about $30 over the cost of a standard break-apart and only adds an additional ounce
to what are already very lightweight paddles. Info: (206) 523-6306,
www.epicpaddles.com
Roll-aid BackUp
The co2-powered BackUp from Roll-aid Safety Inc. eliminates the need for good
rolling technique. Resembling a hard plastic sausage with a handle on one end, the
BackUp attaches to the deck of your boat and releases a self-inflating bladder
providing buoyancy to right yourself. It works. Once upside down, you simply grab the
D-shaped handle and the bladder is pulled from its shell and begins to inflate and rise.
You then pull yourself up like you would grabbing onto the side of a pool. A good hip
flick helps but it isn't necessary. In fact, I capsized repeatedly with a flooded cockpit
and easily muscled my 200 lbs. to the surface by just pushing down on the float. The
manual warns not to tether the bladder to the deck for fear of entanglement. Also,
repacking and re-arming the device with a fresh co2 cartridge in rough weather isn't
easy. But the BackUp does what it says it will do. Yes, you must practice with it (an
inflation tube allows you to do that without repeatedly wasting cartridges) and you
should still learn to roll. But the next time you flip with nothing in your hands but the
camera or gorp, the BackUp will let you forgo another rescue. Info: (604)-224-4010,
www.roll-aid.com
Hand-held weather reports. Digital readouts of relative humidity, heat stress index,
dew point temp, wind chill, wind speed and temperature. Short of a barometer, the
Kestrel 3000 ($159) does it all. Not only that, but it's waterproof and floats, a distinct
plus when operating around water. The wind speed feature is especially handy for sea
kayakers and sailors.
The 3000 model has the added ability to measure relative humidity. So what, you say?
Well, heat stroke. The Heat Index, created by the National Weather Service, is a more
interpretive reading as relates to the human body. Sure, you might think it's hot out,
but when combined humidity and heat reach a dangerous level (about 105 degrees),
you'll know it's time to cut back with a reading in the palm of your hand. I've used this
on Oregon’s Deschutes River, where in summer it can top 120 degrees. NK has a full
line of weather meters, all offering a different array of functions. The 3000 comes in a
handy, bomber, brick-colored case with lanyard. Info.: (800) 784-4221,
www.nkhome.com.
-Rick Hill is an admitted gearhead who resides in Madison, Wis., when not touring
Lake Superior.
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River Flows
Thinking about buying a touring kayak?
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
Now's an exciting time to be a sea kayaker. The industry has never before offered
such an outstanding array of closed-cockpit touring kayaks. The market now favors
shorter, introductory-level boats, but this review highlights a variety of styles and
designs. We paddled tandems and solos, fiberglass, Kevlar and plastic, short kayaks
and long.
The eight boats we reviewed include something for everyone. We focused on five
simple but subjective themes: overall design, comfort, maneuverability, deck fittings,
and rudder/skeg assembly.
Who are we? Our team of reviewers covers the gamut of body types from a 5'1"
female to a 6'8" male. Most of us are Maine Guides and sea kayak instructors. We
represent five Maine outfitters in the greater Mount Desert Island area where
thousands of tourists learn to paddle each year. We asked two questions throughout
this review: "How would this boat work for my clients on a guided trip?” And, "Which of
my customers would most like to buy this boat and why?" We paddled on four
separate days, with conditions ranging from flatwater seas to water in 25-knot winds.
Here's what we found:
Perfect for the smaller and more advanced paddler, the Night Hawk was referred to by
John as "the Ferrari of Sea Kayaks." This kayak's true colors shine through when you
push the limits a little. It has excellent secondary stability and begs to be maneuvered
July / August playfully. Despite its smooth deployment, the Night Hawk tracked so well that Jeff
2000 joked, "It's a shame to use up storage space on the skeg." The hull looks like glass but
is made of the new Carbonlite material, making the boat feel rigid even though it
• Features weighs only 48 pounds.
• Hotline
• Destinations Deck fittings are sparse, simple bungee crosses on bow and stern, but for a day or
• Gear short-overnighter, it has all the necessary basics. Velcro kept the bow toggle
• Skills conveniently affixed to the deck. The cockpit area was tight for the larger folks, one of
whom declared: "I can't wait to try a higher volume Eddyline."
• Sea Kayaking
Supplement
Boat Beta: length: 16'; width: 22"; weight: 48lbs.; MSRP: $1,859
(with rudder)
More from
Sea Kayaking Info: (360) 757-2300, www.eddyline.com
Supplement Savannah by Dagger
In the wake of Shackleton
The Savannah would be equally fun in bays, estuaries, lakes and slow moving rivers.
Sea Kayak Accessories Dagger's famous whitewater roots are pleasantly apparent in this design. Features are
simple and functional. "I loved the 'paddle park'," says one reviewer about the hook
Thinking about buying a
and bungee system, which holds the paddle in place when not in use. The toggle is
touring kayak?
prevented from bouncing annoyingly in the waves by another clever bungee system.
Bulkheads are nicely crafted welded plastic and add rigidity to the hull. Hatches stayed
Return to
Table of Contents
completely dry even after playing in surf. The cockpit is roomy and comfortable for any
size. Our 6'8" reviewer says, "Even as large as I am, the Savannah has tons of room."
Most reviewers recommended installing the optional thigh braces to increase bracing
ability. As stable as it is, the Savannah takes a little more work to get it up on edge.
This is a great beginner to intermediate boat, as well as a fun sport or play boat.
Boat Beta: length: 14'6"; width: 25"; weight 53 lbs.; MSRP: $749 w/out rudder, $849
with rudder
Corona by Perception
Perception has kept all its best touring kayak features and packaged them in a more
compact design to make a sporty little boat loaded with extras. The Corona gracefully
crosses the line between play boat and small expedition kayak. Unlike many shorter
kayaks, the Corona is not a beginner's boat. Primary stability is a little squirrely, even
tippy, but the Corona performs beautifully up on edge. As reviewer Bob puts it, "It turns
on a dime and gives you eight cents change."
The Corona tracks surprisingly well, even without the rudder. "It is agile and fun in the
waves," adds John. The Corona's cockpit is comfortable for larger and smaller
paddlers alike. It has all the features of an expedition boat, including grab lines and
hatch straps for gear. Jeff concludes, "I would definitely like to have one of these. I
would surf it and play in rock gardens."
Boat Beta: length: 14'8"; width: 22.5"; weight: 52 lbs.; MSRP w/out rudder: $1,100;
with rudder: $1,275
Boreal Design, long known for its fine craftsmanship, has done it again with the
Inukshuk. This aesthetically pleasing and functional plastic kayak is extremely stable
and seaworthy yet turns easily when leaned on edge. The Inukshuk's foot peg
assembly deserves praise for its ease of use. A simple strap mechanism allows for
quick adjustment even on water.
The seat is comfortable but larger paddlers reported the thigh braces a little too low for
comfort. Jenny, on the other hand, says, "At 5'1, I expected to be swimming in the
boat, but with the foot pegs pulled short, I felt very comfortable and stable." Everyone
loved the recessed deck fittings to protect paddlers from knuckle scrape. And the
straps over the hatches provided great security. The Inukshuk has a sharp look, and
should be enjoyed by the beginner and advanced paddler in a wide range of
conditions.
Boat Beta: length: 17'; width: 23.5"; weight: 63lbs.; MSRP w/out rudder: $940;
Kodiak by Prijon
"This boat does not weathercock!" yelled one reviewer, as the wind pounded him from
the side. Everyone agreed that the Kodiak tracked well, even in a strong beam wind.
The Kodiak's trihedral hull design is sleek on the water and has particularly high
secondary stability. It is easily put up on edge but is a little stubborn to turn, a problem
quickly solved by dropping the rudder. The foot peg system is unique: you pull a rod
out from the peg and lock it into an open position, then slide it into the desired setting.
The system is almost too tricky to adjust on the water, but once set, it is solid.
The Kodiak's deck fittings include a bungee net system useful for carrying odds and
ends and grab lines for extra security in case of a capsize. Note that the cockpit
requires a fairly large spray squirt. Some reviewers loved its speed. One said, "It's the
fastest polyethylene I've ever paddled."
Boat Beta: length: 17'1"; width: 24.5"; weight: 58 lbs.; MSRP w/out rudder: $1,348;
The Crosswind is a seaworthy and maneuverable tandem with ample stowage space
for longer trips. The double keel line design lends itself to greater structural integrity
than most rotomolded boats. The rudder is extremely efficient with immediate
response and a tight turning radius. The Crosswind performed remarkably well in surf.
"I feel like I'm flying!" yelled one person from her bow position. The boat's simple seats
are comfortable for the large and small alike. Bob, who is 5'4," says, "I typically get
swallowed up by tandems but the Crosswind didn't overwhelm me."
Everyone liked the plastic balls in place of knots to deploy the rudder. They were easy
to activate even with pogies on. Lots of bungees are placed conveniently, and
reviewers loved the recessed molded bungee fittings: no hardware to repair or get
scrapped on in the unlikely event of a capsize. Overall, the Crosswind is a step ahead
of many rotomolded tandems.
Boat Beta: length: 18'6"; width: 30"; weight:86 lbs.; MSRP:$1,595 (with rudder)
Naia by Seaward
Between plenty of storage capacity—"You could fit the kitchen sink in the back hatch,"
says one reviewer—and what another called "The best damn kayak seat I've ever sat
in," the Naia is a winner. Just looking at this boat makes you want to venture out to the
high seas. Its large swooped-up bow invites forward momentum. It is fast and turns
easily. The folks at Seaward told us they might add some length to accommodate
taller paddlers. Paddlers 5'11'' and more would love this option. On the other hand,
Jenny, at 5'1," was delighted with the leg room.
The Fiberglass version weighs about 80 pounds and feels a little heavy for much
carrying. Fortunately, Seaward has designed a nifty toggle system that distributes the
weight of the boat comfortably. Get in on the water and the weight evaporates. The
Naia is a beautiful, stable, maneuverable boat. As TJ summed up, "The Naia is a
Cadillac of a ride, ready to take on the world."
Boat Beta: length: 18'; width: 30"; weight: 88 lbs.; MSRP: $3,735 (with rudder)
The Two Lites is light and fast, the Kevlar/Fiberglass composite weighing in at just 50
pounds. A few start-up strokes and what Dan nicknamed the "Lincoln Continental
Tandem Rocket" feels like its about to lift off. Amazingly, everyone spent most of their
time in this boat ignoring the rudder because it kept a line so well. "This tandem tracks
like a charm," says one reviewer.
The Two Lites harbors very comfortable foam seat blocks and hanging backrests that
are easily adjusted. Three of the taller reviewers said that an extra foot distributed
mostly in the bow area would put the Two Lites at the top of their favorite tandems list.
The hatches offered plenty of room for extended trips. Gasketted square hatch covers
and bulkheads didn't let in a drop. Toggles fit comfortably in the hand and lifting this
incredibly light tandem was a snap. The Two Lites is great boat for intermediate
boaters heading out for several days in all kinds of weather and waves.
Boat Beta: length: 16'7"; width: 28.5; weight: 42 lbs.; MSRP: $2,869
—Thanks to the reviewers: Ron Beard, Kris Bennet, Bob DeForrest, Jeff DeJongh,
Chrissy Ford, Anthony Haden, Jim Kelley, TJ Mackey, Doug Michael, Jenny Minard,
John Roscoe, Dan St. Germaine, Robert Shaw, Natalie Springuel, Ben Thilwell, and
Ron Wanner. Thanks also to the local Outfitters who helped pull this review together:
Coastal Kayaking Tours, National Park Kayak Tours, Island Adventures, Maine State
Kayak, and Cadillac Mountain Sports.
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River Flows
There is no I in team
U.S. Men learn meaning of teamwork at World Rafting
Bulletin Boards
Championships
Go to the ACA
Eugene Buchanan
It's a far cry from Li'l Bo Peep. In the first place, U.S. Rafting team member Kevin
Michelson isn't tending the flock of sheep. He's chasing it. Secondly, he's not wearing
a cute little sheepherder's outfit. He's naked to the bone, save for a U.S. Rafting Team
bib covering an overly hairy torso.
Despite the cheering of his fellow teammates, he has no prayer of catching his
quarry—and no one quite knows what would happen if he did. The sheep outsmart
him at every turn and easily out-distance him in the straight-aways. It's a clear case of
an individual vs. a flock, and an apt analogy to the plight of the U.S. rafting team.
They are here, in a field next to Chile's Futaleufu River, to compete in the World
Rafting Championships and Camel Whitewater Challenge, an event pitting them
against well-practiced teams from 14 countries. But even with a stacked
deck—including four former and current members of the U.S. National slalom
team—they've had a dismal showing, finishing seventh, eighth and twelfth in the first
three events. Unlike the sheep—and Europeans—they have yet to work as a team.
"It's a simple case of too many chiefs," says team captain John Rice, watching Kevin
skip naked through the field. "We have a lot of good individual talent, but it's hard to
turn that into team talent."
Kevin's sheep-chasing antics do wonders to rectify this. For perhaps the first time in
July / August their week-long stay, the U.S. team looks relaxed. More importantly, they're having
2000 fun. When they all strip down to their bibs moments later for a naked team photo
shoot, I realize the tide may soon be about to turn.
• Features
• Hotline Located at Latitude 43 in the Southern Hemisphere, the Futaleufu is as remote as its
• Destinations name. It took producer and cameraman Cliff Webb six connecting flights—from Saipan
• Gear to Guam to Hong Kong to London to Miami to Santiago to Puerto Montt—just to join us
• Skills for the final leg to the Dr. Seuss-like town of Futaleufu, deep in the Chilean Andes. If
our logistics were tough, they were worse for event organizers, who had to get more
• Sea Kayaking
Supplement than 300 people—including 18 men's and women's teams, journalists, event
coordinators and production staff—to one of the most out-of-the-way regions in Chile.
Helicopters were rented for $12,000 a day for safety and filming. Caterers and
thousands of pounds of food had to be trucked in 150 miles. A DJ, disco ball and
More from sound system were flown in from South Africa. Team vans had to be rented 1,000
Features miles away in Santiago (the South Africans wrecked theirs the first day).
Vista Grande! The hassles were worth it. As local kayak outfitter Chris Spelius puts it, "the Futaleufu
There is no I in team has the best whitewater on earth," including nearly 20 miles of big
water—heart-stopping Class IV-V, all of it as aquamarine as model Camilla Vest's
eyes. A map of the section shows Class IV-V rapids stacked upon each other like so
Return to many bales of hay, with barely enough room to list their names—exactly what event
Table of Contents organizer Tony Hansen wanted. "These are the best rafters in the world," he said. "We
want to test them on the world's best whitewater." So far, Hansen had done just that,
organizing three events on Africa's Zambezi, one on Costa Rica's Reventazon, and
one on South Africa's Orange River. Now he was bringing the show to the Futaleufu.
While the river's whitewater is good for competition, it's also good for TV. Last year's
half-hour show ran in 175 different countries, including stints on Fox and Outdoor Life
Network in the U.S. "People like seeing this type of rafting," said Webb as we spiraled
down to the town's lone airstrip. "And it helps that it's always in an exotic location. The
shots are always spectacular."
Parked next to a burro covered by a multi-colored blanket, a taxi took us to the race
headquarters at the Hosteria Rio Grande, the main, and only, hotel downtown. Taped
to the front window was a street map listing team accommodations. Russia: three
blocks away at Los Troncos; Czech Republic, two blocks away at Ely B. I'd be staying
across the street with the U.S. and Costa Rica teams. Notes from competitors covered
the adjacent window. "Lost: black Helly Hansen jacket. Contact the Slovenians." It was
an international pot pouri, illustrated by the hacky sack game out in the street, which
showcased languages as varied as the area's topography.
The first war story from the river surfaced quickly. In the lobby, a multi-lingual group
listened to South Africa's Steve Fisher—a bronze medalist two months earlier at the
World Rodeo Championships—relay a story about a Russian kayaker who swam in a
rapid called Tiburon. "When he finally came to the surface," he said, "he was bleeding
out of both ears. And that was just a nothing rapid." Tony had done his homework in
selecting this site for the World Championships.
My roommate, Rafael Gallo, was here as coach of the men and women's teams from
Costa Rica. To get here, his teams beat seven others in last fall's Continental
Championships. But as a veteran of the Futaleufu, he realizes that once on the water,
there's not much he can do. "I keep the beer cold at the take-out, and the coffee warm
at the put-in," he said, settling into a makeshift cot.
The next morning, I piled into a bus with 20 journalists from as far away as Russia and
Japan for the 45-minute drive to the put-in. In keeping with typical shuttles of the
region, a team bus broke down along the way, and I soon found myself sharing a seat
with a member from Team Canada. His T-shirt read: "Raft guides are like
prostitutes...first for fun, then for friends, and in the end only for money." It hit me then
that these were the world's best. Whether they were guides or members of competitive
rafting clubs, they were all athletes with one thing in common: the desire to take home
bragging rights as the world's best rafting team.
At the put-in, I borrowed a kayak from Bio Bio Expeditions co-owner Marc Goddard
and tried to catch up with the U.S. team, making its way to the start of the day's Time
Trials. It didn't take long to realize the event's caliber. While it's usually no problem to
keep up with a raft, the U.S. team quickly disappeared from view.
Still, the Americans paled to the Europeans, as evidenced by the day's outcome, with
five-time champion Slovenia taking first to the U.S.'s seventh. Since it didn't count in
the standings, the U.S. shook it off to working the rust out. And placing seventh meant
a bye in the first round of the next day's sprint. The U.S. women, who had paddled
together for years, fared better, barely nudging out New Zealand.
Results were put aside that evening at the welcoming party in the town gymnasium.
After speeches by organizers and sponsors, and a long-winded oratory by the
provincial governor, everyone—save for the Russians and Slovenians—put the Disco
Ball That Crossed the Atlantic to use by raging on the dance floor. When the music
died down, they returned to their seats to watch the day's highlights. If you didn't know
who was sponsoring the event before, you did after the video, with Camel getting more
impressions than Nike at the Super Bowl. Most agree it's an odd sponsor for an event
where it behooves people to hold their breath. "It definitely seems weird," said U.S.
team member Corey Nielsen, twirling one of the table's cigarette packs in his hands.
"But without them everyone wouldn't have the chance to compete together."
While Camel's pockets may be deep enough to pull such an event off, its affiliation
limits suitable locations. "We could never do a Camel event in Australia, or the U.S. for
that matter," said event organizer Mark Joffe. "None of the networks would touch it."
By now, the U.S. women's table joined the conversation. "Camel's gotten the ball
rolling," chimed in captain Beth Rypins. "Maybe I'm selling out, but adventure sports
are sexy right now, and a lot of events have these types of sponsors. Hell, our team is
sponsored by Potlatch, an Idaho timber company."
Fueled by Chilean wine, talk then turned to raft racing, and its status in the U.S.
"People don't give credence as to how difficult it is," continued Rypins. "There's this
stigma that rafting is something dweebs do, a way to bumble your way downriver,
where in Europe it's a developed sport. But I think momentum for it is
building—especially with prize money involved. The possibility of competing at an
international level is a big carrot." That, of course, is exactly what helped the U.S.
men's team stack its deck. The trip was more or less free. But a stacked deck doesn't
guarantee success. "This is the first time the U.S. men's team has had actual racers
as opposed to guides," said Rypins. "Once they figure out how to work together, it'll
show."
Back at the hacienda, I walked into Corey and Kevin's room, where the rest of the
team was eating sunflower seeds and watching them play cribbage. Over a late night
beer, I got to better know my American comrades. John Rice, Ryan McGrath, Shane
Sigle and Kelly Starrett used to guide together for John's Clear Creek Rafting and
compete in local races. After earning a dive scholarship to the University of Hawaii,
Ryan raced outrigger canoes, finishing as high as 16th in the Molokai crossing. Shane
and Kelly made the U.S. team in C-2. The foursome then hired firepower in the form of
three-year C-1 U.S. team member Kevin and K-1 U.S. team member Corey. Having
never paddled together, they won last fall's U.S. Nationals to earn a trip to the
Futaleufu. They didn't regroup or train until they arrived in Chile. In contrast, the same
Russian team has been together four years, training for two hours in a St. Petersburg
swimming pool every morning for three months before leaving for the Championships.
What the U.S. lacked in team experience, they easily made up for in spirit. This
showed itself the next morning in their rally cheer. "What do you call a dog when he's
dirty?" ringleader Kelly shouted, everyone huddled in a circle. "Dirty, Dirty, Dirty Dog!"
they all yelled back. Though none of the non-English speaking teams could
understand them it set the tone. Unfortunately, the cheer didn't work. At the end of the
day's sprint event, the U.S. sat in eighth place, victim to an inopportune flip at a hole
called Mundaca. Considering these were the world's best rafters, the day was a
carnage-fest, with five rafts flipping in
the first heat alone. But the teams that worked as a team had the best showing, with
Russia taking first over Slovenia. The U.S. men learned a lesson from the women,
who defeated New Zealand to take the leader's jersey.
Russian captain Petrov Sergei, in accepting their award that evening, gave the DJ a
tape to play, saying, "In Russia we have two types of songs: sad and very sad. We
won today, so we would like to play the sad song." Soon a soprano's melancholy
echoed off the gymnasium's steel girders. The U.S. team was equally remorse back in
the hotel. Apart from the Time Trials, it was their first taste of what they were up
against. Kelly summed up their mood by playing the Futaleufu Blues on a guitar he
purchased in town. If the Russians could play a sad song after they won, he could do
so for a middle-of-the-pack showing.
Spirits were higher the next morning around the breakfast table, with friendly
shit-giving easing the tension of their performance. Barbs were hurled about Ryan
looking like Greg Brady; about Kelly dying his hair blonde; about Kevin becoming a
"rafter" and cruising Aspen in a black Golf dubbed the Batmobile; about Corey being a
slalom-head; and about John for always ruddering instead of paddling. They weren't
family yet, but they were getting close.
Shit-giving, however, still didn't spell success in the day's slalom event. The first to
suffer were the women, who clipped the last downstream gate, landed low in a crucial
eddy, and finished dead last behind Slovakia, New Zealand and Costa Rica. The men
didn't fare much better, also struggling at Gate #7 en route to a 12th-place showing out
of a possible 14—third to last, the worse showing by a U.S. team yet. Most of the stoic
Euro teams, meanwhile, ran the course perfectly, hitting each upstream high and each
downstream dead center. The camaraderie showed in the results, with the Czech
Republic taking first, followed by Slovakia, and Russia.
Taking off the river late, I was treated to an international shuttle home, first in the back
of a truck with the Slovakian women, then in a pick-up driven by Chilean police, then in
a van with the South African team, and finally crammed into the back of a van with the
Russians. Back home, I found John and Ryan alone in their room playing cribbage
and discussing whether John's head made it through the last gate. Kevin and Corey,
meanwhile, had already grabbed their raceboats for interval training on a nearby lake.
Since tomorrow was the kayak downriver race, meaning none of the rafters had to
paddle, that night's award ceremonies was an unofficial party night—especially for
underdog teams like Japan, Mexico, Costa Rica and Canada, all of whom bested the
U.S. in slalom. At the height of the celebrations, 100 decibels of Gregorian chants
blasted over the speakers, signaling the start of the day's highlights. As if on cue,
locals from the otherwise sleepy town filled the auditorium seats to catch the action.
Before things got out of hand, Corey slipped out for a solid night's rest. He had a good
chance at winning the kayak downriver event. But to do so, he would have to beat
South Africa's Steve Fisher.
The shit-giving continued the next morning, most of it centered on Kelly's late-night
bedroom appearance with a certain member of the U.S. women's team. Teamwork
was starting to show off the river as well. Whoever brought someone home had the
benefit of a pre-arranged system for securing an empty room. A simple nudge and the
third wheel would slumber off to a pre-assigned empty bed in another room. The
harassment continued at the put-in. "I think there's something going around," said a
member of the U.S. women's team. "I think it's Kelly." Something more serious was
going around, however, as food poisoning forced women's kayaker Brooke Winger to
have an IV breakfast just hours before the Class IV-V kayak downriver race. Wearing
the IV's Band-Aid on her forearm all the way to the finish line, she would eventually
settle for third.
While John and Ryan scrambled into kayaks, Kevin and Shane broke out their
seldom-seen C-1s, everyone eager to take a break from leg-chafing rubber. Opening
the truck door to retrieve my own gear, I interrupted Corey, who was putting on his
game face for the race. He kept it on until the bitter end, when after 38 minutes of
Class IV-V windmilling, only 1.03 seconds separated him from Fisher in first. Although
it posted little consolation, at least he got to see Fisher puke as he crossed the finish
line. "He's a great paddler," Corey confessed afterward. "I just couldn't catch him."
Walking dejectedly back to the road, Kevin Michelson scrambles to find his shorts
before a passing car sends a spray of dust into the Chilean air. When the coast is
clear, everyone hurries out into the field again, taking off their clothes sans bib to pose
for an unofficial team photo. Privates are strategically but casually hidden. An
inadvertent elbow. A thigh here. Two cupped hands there. It seems sophomoric, but
it's a jelling point for the U.S. team. On the ride back to town, they laugh, share sheep
jokes and harass Kelly for chasing a ewe of a different color the night before. After a
week of traveling, living, training and racing, they are becoming a flock. Though out of
the hunt for first place, they still have a chance for redemption: a strong finish in the
next day's downriver race, worth 40 percent of their overall score.
The next morning, the U.S. men get their battle juices flowing with the umpteenth
playing of Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline" during shuttle. It's the only tape they have.
At the put-in, a quick "Dirty Dog" cheer gets them to the start, where the race will be
run in three five-boat heats, each starting a minute apart. Even with Corey and Kevin
switching sides in the middle of the race—a move that leaves the Italians
dumbfounded—the U.S. quickly outdistance their heat. They even pass a raft from the
first heat right before Class V Casa de Piedra. The "too many chiefs" syndrome has
vanished, each piston content to do his job. They paddle to their strongest showing
yet, taking third behind Russia and Germany and moving them into sixth place
overall—the highest placing among all non-Euro teams. The women have an equally
strong showing, taking the lead and then losing it four times before finally falling to
New Zealand.
On the way home I cram myself in the back of the shuttle truck next to Corey and
Kevin. Between potholes, I ask them for their take on being members of the U.S.
rafting team. "I didn't know what I was getting into," says Kevin. "Part of the difficulty
was trusting each other. There were times when you wanted to take control, but you
can't. A quiet raft is an efficient raft, and we weren't quiet all the time. The best thing
for me to do was just stroke when Shane stroked."
Indeed, when the Russian team paddled by, the raft was stone-cold silent, the result of
four world championship appearances, each with the same people in the same
positions. "We dreamed about this for a long time and went about it step by step," said
Russian captain Petrov Sergei, 39, after the race. Step by step for the U.S. team
meant being together in a raft only once before arriving in Futaleufu. "That's the
problem," continues Kevin. "They do it for their country. You can see it in their eyes.
We do it as individuals. Teamwork is something the Russians—and other Euro
teams—have had instilled for a long time. We just learned about it this week."
Corey then adds his two cents. "We both walked into this focused on training for the
Olympics," he says. "I don't think we realized what it meant to win. But I can honestly
say that I'm extremely proud to be a member of the U.S. rafting team. I've been
involved in solo sports for so long that I forgot what it's like to be part of a team."
When we finally rattle into town everyone disperses and gears up for the night's
festivities, featuring a costumed Carnival parade down the unpaved Main Street. The
Mexicans borrow horses and trot with tequila bottles and 50-gallon sombreros. The
Japanese strut in full Samurai garb. The Costa Rican teams, clad in colorful clothes
from the local second-hand store, yarn wigs and homemade Mardi Gras masks, dance
to Rafael drumming on a paint bucket. The Russians and Slovenians—surprise—go
as themselves, looking on stoically at the other merry-makers. No one, of course, is
merrier than the U.S. team, led by the hairy-chested Kevin and thick-torsoed Corey,
who prance down the street in underwear and bras borrowed from the U.S. women.
They stay close, like Kevin's sheep, because they've learned a valuable lesson:
whether you're rafting against the world's best or wearing women's lingerie, it pays to
stick together.
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River Flows
Expedition News
Bulletin Boards
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Mackenzie Mimic
It took three long years, but Canada's Max Finkelstein finally realized a dream by
completing a 7,000-kilometer canoe expedition that retraced the route of Alexander
Mackenzie, from Ottawa to Bella Coola. To do the route—named in 1997 by the
Canadian Government as the official "Alexander Mackenzie Voyageur
Route"—required six months of solid paddling, picking up where he left off on the
previous segment. As with Mackenzie, it also required struggling through 135
portages.
When traveling solo—which he did for the majority of the trip—Finkelstein paddled a
covered canoe, a precursor to the Verlen Kruger Sea Wind. When joined by others
(and on one 400-mile solo stretch), he paddled a 17.5-foot Hellman Prospector. Two
newscasts of Finkelstein's expedition were broadcast internationally by the Canadian
Broadcasting Network. "It certainly gave me an appreciation of what Mackenzie went
through and how fast he traveled," says Finkelstein, who works for a non-profit group
called Canadian Heritage Rivers. "I paddled the whole thing with his journals in hand,
seeing the land through his eyes as well as mine."
-edb
Team leader Matt Terry recently returned from Ecuador where he and fellow paddlers
made five first descents on the Enchanted Rivers Expedition, funded by Polartec. The
Indanza, Yungantza and Aquacate rivers in the first part of the trip, and the Huataracu
and Llushin in the latter part of the trip, were all added to the known paddling map in
July / August Ecuador. "The Huatarcu was one of our primary goals for the expedition," Terry says,
2000 "and is likely the last ground-accessible run in Sumaco-Galeras National Park."
• Features The first three rivers opened up a new area of boating in the Morona-Santiago
• Hotline Province of southern Ecuador, and could make potential commercial day trips,
• Destinations according to Terry. These are in contrast to the Llushin River (aka "Luscious"), which
Terry referred to as an "all out expedition river."
• Gear
• Skills -tb
• Sea Kayaking
Supplement Morocco Whitewater Adventure
Ahhh, there's nothing like springtime in... Africa? March and April saw Dunbar Hardy,
Brennan Guth, Dustin Knapp, Brad Ludden, Land Heflin, and Steven Byrd traveling to
More from
the deserts of Morocco in search of whitewater. The team explored several rivers of
Hotline the High Atlas Mountains (with peaks over 14,000 feet). On the north side of the range
Some like it Bigger the team paddled sections of the Oum er Rbia River—a beautiful spring-fed river
flowing directly out of a cliff wall. The south side offered the Dades River Gorge—a
Expedition News sheer-walled canyon towering 2,000 feet above the river. Also, as if paddling in
Resort Retort
Morocco isn't unconventional enough, camels were rented and boats were strapped
on, as the gang “surfed” the local Sahara sand dunes—a Moroccan first descent,
we're told. The expedition finished with a few days of surf kayaking some large,
Return to thumping Atlantic waves.
Table of Contents
-tb
Editor's note: Looking to fund that next expedition? The Dagger Endurance Grant
awards $5,000 in cash and product to qualified expedition applicants with the
"experience, knowledge and determination to reach and explore unknown waters."
This is the world's first paddling-specific expedition grant. Info: (865) 882-0404,
www.dagger.com
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River Flows
Resort Retort
A Guide's Guide to Snappy Answers to Stupid Questions
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
the guides
Apparently, raft guides are quicker on their feet than their reputation would indicate.
Proof lies in the following submissions to our Tourist Stupid Rafting Questions contest,
and the responses hurled out by bored, tired, heard-it-all guides. Nothing against the
mental aptitude of tourists, many of whom are doctors, lawyers, scientists and other
contributing members of society. But it does show that even patrons with IQs of 200
can be at the preschool level when it comes to paddling. And it also shows that your
average raft guide, when absolutely necessary, can hold his or her own with the best
of them.
at a kayaker)
Return to
Table of Contents A: Oh, like a hurdler—with one leg in front and
one in back.
A: The ones with iron rods sticking out? Those are the ruins of the ancient cement-ay
civilization.
A: I'm a fur trapper. (Or a witch doctor or a brain surgeon or whatever. Just be sure
and lie.)
A: No, I'm thinking it's going to move out of our way any second now.
A: Can you see the bottom? "Yes." Can you see the top? "Yes." Then you tell me.
A: Not great, but between stock options, tips, health insurance, tips, our raft company's
401K plan and tips, I get by.
and the raft crew was short-handed and since I had experience with water and was off
my medication they hired me on the spot.
Q: What are those tubes (pointing to flood culverts under the highway)?
the river?
of Wildlife. Plus, we fence off all the other watering holes in the state.
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River Flows
Bulletin Boards
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May, June 2000
Volume 20 • Issue No. 3
Features
Triumph and Tragedy at the 1999 World Rodeo Championships
The 1999 World Rodeo Championships will be remembered for the tragic
death of Ireland's Niamh Tomkins. But the tragedy also unified a diverse mix
of the best freestyle paddlers in the world.
Now that Spring has sprung, it's time to grab your sea kayak and head south. And what better place to
go than the following hotspots on Mexico's Baja Peninsula
Lecturing to kings and countrymen, the man known as Grey Owl pleaded for
the natural world with a hue and cry that was decades before its time. A
complex man living a life of contradictions, he is probably best remembered
as the visionary Indian who wasn't.
Hotline
Riverboards Increase on Rescue, Play Markets
If you're out on the river this summer and spot a sturdy piece of flotsam with
a person attached, watch carefully—it might be Shane Bolling trying to steal
your surf wave. Then again, it might be someone coming to rescue you.
Expedition News
Central American Slog, North Atlantic Sea Kayak Crossing, and Po Tsangpo Paddle
It’s easy to assume, and most people do, that the toughest part of Joseph
Le Guen's attempt to row solo across the South Pacific will be the journey
itself.
Destinations
This Ain't Your Grandparents' Summer Camp
Today, kids' paddling camps are so cool, you'll want to tag along. The depth
of choice is astounding: from whitewater rafting to sea kayaking, new
programs spring up every year and the perennial favorites continue to grow
stronger.
For most canoeists headed to the popular waters of western Montana from the
Midwest or eastern states, the plains of Montana pass like a bad dream. The
prairielands of the Treasure State are often viewed as something to be endured
enroute to a sparkling mountain paradise. If the typical canoeists knew what
Montana has to offer east of its continental divide, however, they might not be so
hasty on the trek west.
Gear
Yet another generation of playboats
Skills
How to buy a Canoe
Surf Zone
Top Surf Spots
A beach lover's guide to boating in the surf, including where to go and who
to know.
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River Flows
Triumph and Tragedy at the 1999 World Rodeo
Bulletin Boards Championships
Go to the ACA
Joe Carberry
"Can we get some people into boats and into the water? A girl just went under and we
haven't been able to locate her." It was the third time Dan Gavere's words echoed over
the loudspeaker, and they had just begun to affect the crowd gathered at the World
Rodeo Championships at the Full James Wave near Taupo, New Zealand.
Kayaks filled with boaters in mismatched gear quickly spread across the water looking
like confused hounds that had just lost a scent. They were searching for 24-year-old
Irish team member Niamh Tomkins, who disappeared while swimming in between the
semi-finals and finals on Sunday. "Move out onto the cliff and try to get a look down
into the river," Gavere's voice boomed again as he tried to get spectators, standing on
an overhanging cliff, to join in the search.
The people on the ledge began to yell frantically; they found what they were looking
for. Two of the paddlers then dove for the girl and were able to get her to shore and
start CPR. Unfortunately, their rescue efforts came too late. Tomkins died that
afternoon on the banks of the Waikato River.
It's been a while since I had this feeling... tears that won't come, a rock in my stomach.
Today a girl drowned in the Full James rapid. To fully comprehend how this accident
could have happened, you have to understand the features of this rapid. It's an
May, June 2000 incredibly deep river flowing at 6,000 cfs. The vortexes on the eddyline create dynamic
whirlpools that can suck you toward the bottom. Just yesterday, Clay Wright was
• Features practicing mystery moves in his squirt boat and encountered one of these vortexes. He
• Special CanoeSport said the pull was so strong it scared him. Given the circumstances, it was amazing to
Journal Supplement see how fast the entire paddling community came together. As you can imagine, finals
• Hotline have been postponed until tomorrow. Organizers met with the Maori tribe this evening
• Destinations to discuss the situation. According to Maori tradition, if a person dies on the river it is
• Gear considered sacred until the river has been blessed and deemed safe again. Had they
chose not to bless the river, the event could have been stopped and the results would
• Skills
have stood with the semi-finals. All of the participating countries met and took a vote to
• Surf Zone see whether the event should continue. It was the Irish team's suggestion that the
event continue in memory of their fallen teammate. --V.G.
More from Two centuries earlier, the original inhabitants of the country, the Maori, used a cave
Features near the Full James to lay their own dead to rest before taking them to a burial area.
The cave was known as Rua Hoatu and occupied a special place in their hearts.
9 Top Baja Sea Kayak
Getaways This, of course, made gaining access to the land difficult for the New Zealand
Freestyle Kayak Committee (NZFKC), which organized and hosted the competition.
Triumph and Tragedy at
The NZFKC submitted a proposal to use the land to the Iwi, the Maori tribe living in the
the 1999 World Rodeo
Championships
area, in August 1998. The committee didn't receive approval until August 10, 1999,
less than four months before the competition was to start.
Organizers couldn't blame the Iwi for prolonging the decision to grant permission; it
Return to
Table of Contents was sacred land. The tribe had also learned a tough lesson on how their land could be
misused. In the1950s a Taupo man known as Mr. Full James built a lodge near the
wave and charged people to take boat rides through the rapid. This infuriated the Iwi.
Today members of the tribe still refuse to call it the Full James Rapid. Instead, they
call it Ngaawapurua, meaning "where the river divides," so named because before the
Aratiatia dam was built, two miles upstream of the play wave, the water would get low
enough to expose a rock dividing the river into channels.
There was a chill in the air this morning and everyone was anxious to get the
competition started. As the Maori gave their official blessing, everyone huddled in their
fleece, excited that the World Freestyle Kayaking Championship was about to start. To
the Maori, all nature is alive and has magic or supernatural powers. They live in
harmony with the land and respect it as property of the gods. In the early days, the
Maori had no written language so they passed their history through song and dance.
Today, we were able to share in that history as the Maori sang and gave their
blessings to all of the kayakers who came to Ngaawaparua Rapids (AKA Full James).
--V.G.
Competitors wished the blessing would've effected Mighty River Power, owners of
Aratiatia Dam, so water levels would have been more consistent. As it was, levels
changed faster than you could drain your bathtub, making it hard to train and even
harder to compete.
A few foreign competitors showed up four weeks beforehand to get a feel for the
wave. Tents and vans spread across the surrounding meadow where competitors
created ways to avoid the downpours inevitable during the New Zealand spring.
Despite the abundant rain, the river was too low, limiting practice times to the whims of
the dam operators. Early in the morning you could catch kayakers sneaking out of
their tents and into their boating gear, shouldering kayaks and making a mad dash into
the fog coming off the water, in hopes of catching an uncrowded surf.
Pitter, patter, pitter, patter. That's what we wake to. The rain has moved in again and
has not stopped, even for a second. The gear we hung out to dry overnight is now
more soaked than before. The scene at the Full James site is dreary and wet.
Everyone is hibernating in their tents or has left to crash at any dry place in town. A lot
of people have dispersed to other parts of the island to paddle. We have opted to
spend the day relaxing. This will probably be our last chance to do so before the
madness kicks in. As two-time World Rodeo C-1 Champion Allen Braswell puts it,
"This is the best type of training you can do. Relax the body, close your eyes and
visualize." We plan to sit in front of the telly (Kiwi for television) and let Allen Braswell
show us the finer elements to his style of training. With the competition just three days
away, practice time is becoming more and more vital. If anyone has connections with
the Kiwi Dam people, now would be the time to use them. A little bit of leaning would
do the Worlds some good.--V.G.
When officials discovered the river would run at the right level for 24 hours, they set up
strobe lights to allow for night training. Looking upriver in the dark, all you could see
was a glowing silhouette, as competitors cartwheeled themselves into the night. Each
country had certain time slots it could use for practice. At times, tension ran higher
than the water. At one point, the Swiss team filed a formal complaint against the U.S.,
who it claimed stayed on the wave 10 minutes past the team's deadline.
Luckily the Full James wasn't competitors' only paddling option. Between the North
and South Islands is enough whitewater to keep even the most hardcore addict from
feeling withdrawal symptoms. When they weren't training at Full James, competitors
flocked to such nearby classics as the Kaituna, Huka Falls and Wairoa. Others took
part in such other Kiwi mainstays as bungee jumping, skydiving and jetboating.
Whenever the water came to Full James, however, they quickly returned to battle
eddies and sample the contest site.
There is a river god! Water was finally released today (though it was two hours behind
schedule). There were surges of good and bad. On some, paddlers were
ripping—throwing blunts, cartwheels and clean spins. On others, the wave just opened
up, resulting in pretty hard face plants. The attainment is hard and some people
definitely get worked—which puts them at risk of losing their cherished place in line.
Others grab onto the undercut and pull themselves into the top eddy. All of the Kiwis
keep saying, "She'll be right" which roughly translates to, "Things aren't going as
smoothly as we'd like but it will all work out in the end." I admit, it's come to be one of
my favorite sayings. --V.G.
The Worlds also gave competitors the chance to sample the latest playboats from the
world's major kayak manufacturers. When water levels and abilities worked together,
competitors took the new designs to task, showcasing moves they had been working
on all year. Brooke Winger took advantage of the new models as well as anyone,
taking third in Women's K-1 and capturing first in women's squirt. "I was pretty excited
about my squirt performance," Brooke said. "And it gave me some strong confidence
heading into the surface boats competition."
Perhaps the biggest surprise of the competition was the absence of Eric Jackson in
the men's championship round. Jackson threw a massive aerial blunt in the
quarter-finals but flushed with surging water levels on his two semi-final rides. Those
close to the bank heard him call-out his move of the millennium just before throwing it.
"What I said specifically was, 'Watch this, I'm going to do a big move!' But I didn't know
what I was going to do," he says.
The water was slow in coming this morning. As I sat and watched the calm pool
transform into a raging rapid, I was hypnotized by all of the features—the floating
rocks that mysteriously surfaced from the bottom of the river, the pulses of water that
made the wave become more retentive. Looking back on today's events, it seems as if
the water was foreshadowing how the day would play out—slow to start but raging
with excitement later on. Eventually, spirits and clouds lifted as the event got
underway. It was a fierce competition. Single elimination starts with the top five
competitors in each class, with every person allowed one ride. The lowest ride
determines who gets left behind in the next round. This process goes on until there are
only two competitors left. The person with the highest score wins. It's nerve-wracking
as a spectator. I can't imagine what it's like as a competitor. --V.G.
Solitary big moves, however, didn't carry the same weight as consistency. And no one
was more stable than Eric Southwick, who rode the river's inconsistent flows to a
first-place finish in Men's K-1. "I just tried to be really consistent," he said. "The wave
was flushy so you had to be aggressive but you also had to be patient. You really
needed to pay attention to the pulse. Every time I went out there, I hit it. The water
made it harder but you just had to adjust."
"That wave had one of the hardest features I'd ever seen," added competitor Aleta
Miller, who finished fourth in women's K-1. "It surged so much—and the water levels
were never the same."
Corran Addison felt that the surges separated the skill level of the paddlers. "It was an
unpredictable spot," he said. "But it was good, because that separated the people who
just threw ends and those who were constantly reading the water. I always looked
upstream for boils coming down and if I saw one, then I did something else until it
passed by."
Southwick apparently read the water a little better than Addison on the day of the
finals as he threw a split wheel with three seconds left to win the title, relegating
Addison to second and fellow South African countryman Steve Fisher to third. "I knew
I needed something at the end of my ride because Corran had done so well,"
Southwick said. "A split has a higher variety and technical score, so when I heard the
10-second buzzer go off, I set up for left hand cartwheels, looked for the timely
placement for the split, and then let it all hang out."
Other competitors letting it all hang out include Deb Pinniger of Great Britain, who took
the women's K-1 crown; Great Britain's Mark Birkbeck, who won the K-1 Men's
Juniors; and Andy Beddingfield from the U.S., who left Down Under with the Squirt
division title.
For all in attendance, however, everything from the results to the rain proved
secondary in light of the tragedy that unfolded before the finals. The Irish lost a team
member, and everyone else lost a cherished paddling friend. If the gray, New Zealand
clouds did offer a silver lining, it was that a valuable lesson was learned by all—to live
life to the utmost every possible moment. And whether they were dancing on tables at
the Holy Cow bar, driving to nearby rivers to playboat with friends, or grasping at an
undercut while waiting a turn to surf, everyone did exactly that, living life it to its fullest
at Full James.
Today's weather seems indicative of everyone's mood...overcast, chilly and somewhat
hazy. While we have all traveled thousands of miles to celebrate the World
Championships, we can't forget that this raging water below us claimed a girl's life
yesterday. It changed the mood and spirit of everyone. No one wants to forget
because yesterday was one of life's most valuable lessons. It was a reminder of how
precious every second can be. --V.G.
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River Flows
Down the Crazy River
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA Richard Bangs
The primary response is one of exhilaration, the splendid feeling that comes with
gliding by the edge. The river is fast here, and the paddles swallow yards with each
stroke. We stretch to pull into an eddy, but can't make it. Even though we have spray
covers over the 17-foot red canoe, and just bailed the boat dry less than 10 minutes
ago, water is splashing about my knees, and the canoe is reeling, like a sailboat in a
squall. "We've got a leak," Erik yells from behind. But no time to ponder that
information...just ahead the river roils, and we need a quick decision. To the right is a
waterfall; down the center is a washboard running with white ribs of foam; to the left a
narrow channel between an anvil-shaped rock and the shore.
"To the left," I scream back. We line up, and slew a good line to make the chute. Zen
and the art of canoeing: I can feel my arms connected to the water and my mind to
Erik's strokes behind me, and instinctively know what to do. The entry seems perfect,
gliding toward the chute as though on a track, slipping down the drop as though by
May, June 2000 design. Then, a hidden hand seems to reach down, grab the boat, and push us back
toward the rock. I drop my paddle, brace against the gunwales, and BANG...we crash
• Features
head-on into Paleozoic stone. It stops us cold, and the canoe shudders, then wobbles
• Special CanoeSport back into the mainstream, miraculously upright, skidding on a crackling surge of
Journal Supplement
spume. I can see two new holes in the bow. Water is swishing around my belly. We try
• Hotline to keep the canoe straight as we head into the tail waves, but it's like steering an
• Destinations overflowing bathtub. Instead of riding over the crests, we plow through them. When we
• Gear spot our guide, Bart, downstream, we wag our paddles like semaphores, but he is too
• Skills busy negotiating his own boat through the quicksilver to notice our distress. We're on
• Surf Zone our own.
Somehow, we make it to a shallow eddy by the cobblestone bank, and jump into the
icy water with numbed feet. The air is dank as an oyster. Clouds fill the sky
More from
Special and seal us off, enforcing a sense of claustrophobia. A short way up the loamy shore
CanoeSport is a blanket of snow, and beyond cliffs that soar a half-mile high. We have no patching
material, no detailed maps, food for only a few days, and the sun is beginning to fade
Journal behind the brooding peaks. Ours is the last trip of the short season, so no chance of
Supplement someone paddling to our rescue. We can't camp here, as we were warned by an
Down the Crazy River
earlier trip that there had been a "caribou kill" by a grizzly nearby. As we bend to bail
the canoe, Erik and I exchange a stern look...there is an ancient silence, as unbroken
Grey Owl: Voice for as the flow of the river, and I feel a bead of fear in my gut. Suddenly we both snap to a
Canada's Wilderness smile. "I can't think of anyplace in the world I would rather be," I offer to Erik.
Now, as we bail the last gallons from the bilge, we assess our predicament. "Maybe
we could tap some sap from the spruce trees and use it to patch the boat," Erik
wonders. I love the idea, and suggest we camp and make an attempt to fix the canoe,
bears be damned. But it would probably take a full day to make such a repair, which
would considerably cut the chances of catching up with our group. Erik insists we
make distance during daylight, and then explore the options. A part of me is drawn to
the notion of trying to negotiate through this wilderness on our own, on a mission of
survival, no itinerary, no planned meals, no accouterments to weigh down the
soul...just a clear, present reason for going forward, for being. But, I know Erik holds
out hope for our meeting his Dad and the others, and it is the right thing to do.
We re-launch, and it starts to rain. I look around. In the way that beach stones are
more colorful when wet, the rain brings out the colors of the land, and for a minute I
am entranced. The limestones and dolomites are buff and cinnamon; the shales a
shiny black; the siltstones green, the sandstone maroon. Then I plunge back into the
reality pudding...the canoe is full again, rolling like a three-ton log, nearly capsizing at
every turn; we stop and bail, paddle for 15 minutes, then repeat. The wind is whipping
the rain around like wet string. It's so cold my whole body is shivering, and whenever a
shot of water meets my face it punches my breath away. My feet feel like they were
used for batting practice. Then, just as I find myself surveying the cliffs for an exit trek,
we turn a corner and the Blackfeather makes its final adjustments, like a settling
stomach, and then merges into the murky waters of the Mountain River. There, across
the channel, is an orange and white tarp, rigged like a sail, with men milling about
beneath—our rendezvous, our Deliverance. My feelings are mixed. It will be exciting to
be with fellow adventurers, and to know Erik's dad; and it will be a comfort to be with a
guide who knows the river. But, for half a day, as Erik and I made our way with our
leaky red canoe down a river of liquid lightning, there was a sensation, an alertness, a
primal freedom, that comes with reducing existence to its core in the unavailing
wilderness, challenging it on its own terms, and being a bit scared.
Looking back at the needles of light flashing off the Blackfeather, I knew we were
leaving the fear of the unknown behind. In a 1757 essay, "Of the Sublime and
Beautiful," Edmund Burke argued that the sublime began with a proper sense of
dread: only terror "is a source of the sublime; that is, it is productive of the strongest
emotion which the mind is capable of feeling." And even though the final strokes of the
day were dissipating to shining ether the solid angularity of our earlier predicament, I
locked it to memory, and let a wave of joy wash over me. And, I patted our canoe on
its cheek—it had such a lovely place to run, and all downhill.
HOME
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River Flows
Riverboards Increase on Rescue, Play Markets
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
If you're out on the river this summer and spot a sturdy piece of flotsam with a person
attached, watch carefully—it might be Shane Bolling trying to steal your surf wave.
Then again, it might be someone coming to rescue you.
Riverboarding has been the rage in Europe for more than a decade, where the sport is
known variously as hydrospeed, aquanaut and NEV, a French acronym for "swimming
in live water." Bolling tried a board in New Zealand three years ago and decided on the
spot to import them to North America under the brand name Ripboard.
Bolling says riverboarding, more than any other whitewater sport, places you
face-to-face with the living, breathing force of the river. "It gives you a chance to swim
a rapid safely and enjoy it, as opposed to getting sucked under and tossed out,"
Bolling says.
Ease-of-use has also made riverboards a favored swiftwater rescue tool. About
three-fourths of the boards in the United States are sold for river rescue. Wildwasser
Sport imports a plastic Prijon Riverboard similar to Bolling's Ripboard but with
tie-points for rescue apparatus. Both plastic boards are about three feet long, weigh
twenty pounds and have molded recesses for torso and elbows. Carlson's foam
boards are lighter and longer at eight pounds and about 4.5 feet. With either design,
boarders steer and power themselves with swim fins, an arrangement that novices
seem to grasp intuitively.
May, June 2000 Perhaps most appealing is the ability to tackle big, exciting water at a much higher
level of participation than a raft guide's "paddle left, paddle right" exhortations allow.
• Features Outfitters in Europe confidently send novices down Class IV rivers. "You're already
• Special CanoeSport swimming, so there's not much else that can go wrong," says Jim Cassady, who
Journal Supplement
distributes America's most popular board for designer Bob Carlson, who still
• Hotline hand-shapes them individually.
• Destinations
• Gear Boaters who try riverboarding will be amazed at how easily they surf, particularly on
• Skills breaking waves. But progress against the current is strenuous and slow.
"Riverboarding is best on a river with big flow, lots of waves, bright sun and places to
• Surf Zone eat lunch," Carlson says. "You look for an auto-load eddy." On the right wave boarders
can dig into a big bag of play tricks, including barrel rolls, spins and squirt moves.
More from A racing scene is beginning to develop as well. Bolling is working with Whitewater Cup
Hotline organizer Mark Joffe to include a board class in the September 29 rafting competition
on the Upper Gauley. Joffe, who a few years ago was the second person down the
South Pacific Zambezi on a boogie board, has supported the plan enthusiastically.
Sojourn--Solo
Racing in Class V water isn't enough for Julie Munger, who recently riverboarded the
Riverboards Increase on
Rescue, Play Markets
full length of the Grand Canyon. Munger's brand of hardcore is what gave birth to
riverboarding. In the early seventies a trio of French raft guides lashed together a pile
Expedition News of life vests and hit some of the wildest water in the Alps. They quickly advanced to
boards, and today's whitewater outfitters in France and Italy do as much as 30 percent
of their business on riverboards. Carlson developed his own boards concurrently in
Return to California, but the sport remains a curiosity in North America. One reason the sport
Table of Contents hasn't taken off commercially is its paltry profit margins in comparison to rafts. And not
every raft client would be comfortable on a riverboard staring at a Class IV drop,
particularly in cold weather.
The Ripboard and Prijon Riverboard each retail for about $400, while the Carlson
board sells for just under $300. Boarders also need fins, helmet, PFD and a good
wetsuit, bringing the total equipment investment into the same range as kayaking. Last
year Wildwasser sold about 100 boards and Carlson about 500. But that number is
rising steadily. "It's a critical mass thing," Carlson says. "The sport is growing
exponentially, but the exponent is still pretty small."
—Jeffrey Moag
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River Flows
This Ain't Your Grandparents' Summer Camp
Destination Paddling Camps for Kids
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
Alyssa McCormick
At the tender age of 28, I never thought I'd utter the phrase old-timers fondly spout just
before they drone on about some childhood reminiscence. You know, the old "Back
when I was a kid" line. Yet, while interviewing the nation's youth paddling instructors, I
kept thinking, "When I was a kid ... summer camp was nothing like this." In my mind,
summer camp meant Lake DoTheHokeyPokey, located a stuffy bus ride from home in
an unspectacular stand of woods on a serviceable lake with some rundown cabins.
We did some canoeing, swimming and archery; made a mountain of macaroni
headbands and leather beaded necklaces, and studied the fine game of "truth or
dare."
But today, kids are more sophisticated and their paddling camps are so cool, you'll
want to tag along. The depth of choice is astounding: from whitewater rafting to sea
kayaking, new programs spring up every year and the perennial favorites continue to
grow stronger. Kids can canoe through the Adirondacks, kayak the Magpie in Canada,
or learn to guide a raft on the Kern. They've got state-of-the-art equipment, world-class
instruction and personalized curricula. Gone are the days of a zillion kids rushing
haphazard into the middle of Lake DoTheHokeyPokey: today's adventure summer
camps have more in common with Olympic training centers than the movie Meatballs.
This is not to say that a summer of paddling instruction is like boot camp. On the
contrary, the basic tenant of summer camp remains the same: it's still about having
fun, building friendships, and learning valuable life lessons. In addition, kids will come
away with self-confidence and decision making skills that translate into life off the river.
AdventureQuest
May, June 2000
• Features P.O. Box 184, Woodstock, VT 05091; (802) 484-3639; e-mail:
academy@adventurequest.org or programs@adventurequest.org
• Special CanoeSport
Journal Supplement
One of the most respected outdoor schools in the world, Adventure Quest offers a
• Hotline variety of paddling for kids of all abilities and experience levels. "Kids are our life,"
• Destinations says founder Peter Kennedy, "And Adventure Quest is an extension of that." Kennedy
• Gear is known throughout the paddling world as one of the foremost instructors, educators
• Skills and trainers, instructing instructors since the 1970s.
• Surf Zone
Adventure Quest has stayed true to its course since its inception: to create a
whitewater school for kids that focuses on the health of the whole youth. As a result of
its unique approach and world-class instruction, Adventure Quest consistently
More from produces the top junior kids in the country.
Destinations
ACA-certified instructors, in-house research and development, boat designers on staff
This Ain't Your and all the amazing new gear you could dream up combine to make AQ a top-notch
Grandparents' Summer program. There is also an a la carte program for adults, in which families can design
Camp their own curriculum and learn together.
Paddles on the Prairie
Among their offerings are the Whitewater Slalom Clinic with Team Adventure's junior
and senior National Teams, Whitewater Rivers of the South (New, Cheat, Tygart,
Return to Nantahala, Chattooga and the Ocoee), Maine and Southern Quebec, the Austrian,
Table of Contents Swiss and French Alps and the Magpie River in Quebec. The Advanced Whitewater
Rodeo Clinic travels with paddling gurus for a week of fun and play on Canada's
Ottawa River. And on the quieter side, the Adirondack Lakes Kayak/Canoe Touring
trip is a two-week adventure in upstate New York.
Otter Bar
Otter Bar Lodge, Inc., P.O. Box 210, Forks of Salmon, CA 96031; ph: (530) 462-4772;
fx: (530) 462-4788; e-mail: otterbar@aol.com
Otter Bar has taken its winning instructional formula and applied it to a kids program
entitled NQGU (Not Quite Grown-Ups). Kristy and Peter Sturges began NQGU
because their son, who was 10 at the time, didn't want to kayak. They dreamed up a
kids camp and five years later, the program is running strong, with two, one-week
sessions each summer.
Otter Bar instructors bring with them degrees in outdoor education and biology and the
4:1 student/teacher ratio makes certain that each student will receive appropriate
structure and supervision on and off the river. "If you're a safe kayaker, you're a happy
kayaker," Kristy Sturges says of the camp's approach. "We're not teaching kids to be
gonzo—but to have fun on the river—and to learn that it is not a scary place."
The NQGUs weeks run simultaneously but separately from the regularly scheduled
classes for adults, so families can have parallel learning experiences just next door.
Children are welcome to come by themselves and be assured they will be in a secure
and safe environment.
13077 Hwy 19 West, Bryson City, NC 28713-9114; (828) 488-2175; fx: (828)
488-2498
Founded in 1972, the Nantahala Outdoor Center (NOC) employs 350 people during
the summer—which means kids have a wide array of class choices. And the
instruction is top notch: NOC regularly draws well-respected staff members from
around the world. Kids blossom with a student-to-instructor ratio of 4:1.
The whitewater camps for kids emphasize fun and basic safety. Day sessions start on
the lake and progress to the river, where even beginners will tackle waves and eddy
line crossings. Flexible itineraries allow instructors to take kids to several different
rivers and swimming holes. Evenings are a combination of education and fun:
paddling videos mixed with campfire tales. There are also playboating clinics, where
kids will have a blast learning all the latest rodeo moves.
Nestled in North Carolina's Great Smoky Mountains, NOC has every kind of activity a
child could want. Kids can also opt for an adventure sports camp, which combines
whitewater kayaking with mountain biking, plus a little climbing and sea kayaking. Kids
stay in bunk-style cabins at the base camp with their counselors, who are among the
most elite paddlers in the world.
7050 Hwy 55, RIO, Horseshoe Bend, ID 83629; ph: (800) 292-RAFT or (208)
793-2221; winter: (208) 939-4674
Tucked away in the beautiful mountains of southwest Idaho, summer river adventures
are plentiful at Cascade Raft and Kayak. Designed by kids for kids, Camp Cascade is
packed with days of sun, water, and confidence-building experiences on the Payette
River. Billed as a "kids paddling adventure," the Cascade program need not be
specific to any particular watercraft. Kids can choose anything from a raft to an
inflatable kayak to a hard shell: the emphasis is on getting to know old man river.
Tom and Debbi Long, who run the camp, are known for creating innovative instruction
in the West. One of Cascade's most unique aspects is its junior instructor program, in
which young, experienced paddlers pair up with certified adult guides to teach their
peers. Junior instructors help encourage, support, and create a team atmosphere with
the kids. All instructors have been professionally trained in river rescue and first aid,
and are proficient with their proven system of training competent paddlers.
"Kids have adults barking at them throughout most of kid-hood," says Debbi Long.
"They have a much more open ear and different communication skills amongst
themselves." The environment is still structured and controlled by adults, namely US
Slalom Team Member Chad Long, Tom and Debbi's son.
P.O. Box 270, Essex Historical Museum's Shipyard, Essex, MA 01929; ph: (508)
768-ERBA or 1-800-KAYAK-04
For city slickers in the Northeast, Essex River Basin Adventures (ERBA) offers sea
kayaking programs for kids practically in their back yard. Located 35 miles north of
Boston in beautiful, sheltered Cape Ann, ERBA's day school meets at the historic
Story Shipyard in Essex, Mass., a quaint fishing village.
Boys and girls ages 10-16 will spend their week learning the sport of sea kayaking.
They will begin on the quiet tidal estuaries of the Essex River. As the students become
comfortable in their kayaks, they will work on wet exits, aided and self-rescue
techniques, and paddling strokes, according to owner Sandy Osborn who operates the
program with her husband.
Depending on their students' skills, guides can opt to embark on more challenging
trips, including overnight campouts on nearby islands. Students work on strokes and
braces and learn about seamanship and safety on the water. The week culminates in
a daylong journey planned entirely by the participants. One of the day trips usually
includes an outing to Hog Island, where the movie The Crucible was filmed.
P.O. Box 635, Barry's Bay, ON Canada K0J 1B0; summer: (613) 756-3620,
"You are totally there for kayaking," says director Claudia van Wijk. "In the evenings,
it's kayak technique videos and more instruction. It is very intensive."
For younger kids, age 10 and above, they offer weekend courses called "Parents and
Kids" that teach both whitewater kayak and canoe. And finally, for 8- to 13-year-olds,
there are introductory kids kayak courses, which are half-day lessons to help develop
a taste for H20.
The MKC programs are not traditional camps and Van Wijk stresses the importance of
parental involvement in the sport with their young ones. "We want parents to be there.
It's not fair to introduce a child to a sport that they can't continue. A parent must be
available to drive a child to the river and supervise if they are to continue," she says.
But it should be no problem "coercing" parents to vacation at MKC: its pristine setting
on the Madawaska River, combined with a homey Swiss-style chalet, makes for a
wonderful adult playground, too. Families can also choose to camp together on the
resort's 10-acre spread.
Whitewater Voyages
5225 San Pablo Dam Rd., El Sobrante, CA 94820; ph: 1-800-488-RAFT; fx: (510)
758-7238; Web site: www.whitewatervoyages.com
One of the few youth whitewater rafting programs in the country, Whitewater Voyages
gives kids the unique opportunity to master the art of guiding a raft. For five days,
young rafters will learn current reading, raft guiding, river safety and rescue, camp
cookery, camp set-up and breakdown, nature interpretation, raft rigging, knot tying, raft
maintenance and repair, care for the natural environment and river preservation.
They even get to captain their own adventure, running a portion of the river and
electing a trip leader (with a certified guide in the boat). In camp founder Bill
McGinnis's experience, the act of stepping up to take responsibility helps kids expand
as people.
"We hope to inspire young people to be supportive to each other," he says. "In our
culture today, it's tough to be a kid. In rafting there is a need for a captain— someone
must assume a leadership role and everyone has to support it."
Whitewater Voyages holds six sessions per summer. Kids may enroll in the
Whitewater Summer Camps (ages 12 to 15) or the Youth Whitewater Leadership
Schools (ages 15 to 17). The tent-based camp center is located at Beaver Point on a
"forgiving stretch" of the South Fork American River in Coloma, one hour east of
Sacramento.
The Wolf River Paddling Camp was founded ten years ago by Bob Obst and Colleen
Hayes, a husband and wife team who won a silver medal in tandem canoe at the 1989
Nationals. The camp is run by the non-profit Wolf River Paddling Club, which is
sanctioned by the American Canoe Association and the U.S. Canoe and Kayak Team.
Three camps are held each summer at the Wolf River Refuge, a private nature
reserve near Langlade, Wis., and are three to four days in length. Instruction is
provided for C-1, C-2 and kayaks and is aimed at paddlers aged 8-18 who start out on
the lake and move up to the Wolf River. Intermediate and advanced paddlers can train
for competition on rapids and slalom gates on the river, getting instruction from such
greats as world champion Kent Ford and Olympic Gold Medalist Joe Jacobi.
The camp is set in beautiful pine woods above the river, where they enjoy sing-alongs
and storytelling and make lifelong friends. Parents are also encouraged to attend.
P.O. Box 38, Tuxedo, NC 28784; winter: 800-688-5789; summer: 828 692-6355;
If you aren't sure that your child will be into paddling, it's a safe bet to send them to a
traditional camp that introduces boating as part of a wide selection of activities. Camps
Mondamin (for boys) and Green Cove (for girls) are great choices that also happen to
have outstanding paddling programs.
Founded by Frank Bell, Sr. in 1922, Mondamin takes its name from
an Indian legend about a teacher who helped his people gain independence and
self-sufficiency. Green Cove was founded in the 1940s, and both camps help kids gain
confidence, self-esteem, and independence through building outdoor skills and
friendships.
The two camps have a capacity of 185 each. The programs are non-competitive and
non-regimented. They are strongly focused on tripping in the surrounding mountains,
lakes and rivers of Western North Carolina. Canoeing and kayaking begins on the
lake, where they work on safety and basic strokes. When ready, campers take river
trips, training at first on easy Class I and II rivers, then moving up in difficulty and
challenge as they are able.
The canoeing and kayaking programs are run by Tracy Chapple, former instructor at
the Nantahala Outdoor Center and Gordon Grant, former head of instruction at the
NOC.
P.O. Box 1909, 11300 Kernville Rd., Kernville, CA 93238; ph: (760) 376-3746;
Sierra South's kids rafting program is a scaled back version of the training their adult
commercial guides go through, only a little more relaxed. Campers learn to guide a raft
using paddle commands, rescue one another with throw bags, lead safety talks and
read the river. At the end of the week, they get to wow mom and dad by playing guide;
outfitting their parents with PFDs, giving the safety talk, and taking turns guiding
rapids.
Sierra South also has kayaking classes, such as Youth 101, structured especially for
teens and the Kern River Summer Camp for kids age 11-14. These programs are
designed as mid-week summer camps for kids interested in river adventure. They'll
spend four days and three nights learning basic paddling and river skills while camped
out on the wild and scenic upper Kern river. By the end of four days on the river, the
kids will graduate as junior river guides with skills in rafting, kayaking, river reading
and river rescue.
HOME
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River Flows
Yet another generation of playboats
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA John "Tree" Trujillo
For the following review, we tested playboats from major manufacturers at the finest
venues in the Pacific Northwest. We hit Lake Creek near Eugene, Bob's Hole on the
Clackamas, The Wheel on Canyon Creek, and Trestle Hole on the Deschutes. We
shredded these boats on big water standing waves, wave holes and low volume surf
holes. We drew on the expertise of such professional freestyle paddlers as Sam
Drevo, Jay Kincaid, Javid Grubbs, Clay Wright, Tanya Shuman and Tao Berman, all of
whom crashed on our office and friends' floors after every day of testing. As well as
giving them a free crash pad, this also provided a sort of floor-space forum in which
they could discuss their likes and dislikes. Additional testers included a variety of
different sized people, male and female, with different skill levels. Their opinions were
also incorporated into the final analysis. So read up, and then get out there and hang
on for the ride.
Dagger Centrifuge/Ultrafuge
The Dagger Centrifuge and Ultrafuge received high praise from all those who tested
them. Identical in design (the Ultrafuge has the same geometry as the Centrifuge, only
smaller), these two boats offer the latest technology in a high-performance playboat
design. They are fast and loose on a wave. One particular bonus of the hull design is
the ability to carve as well as spin. The sharp rail offers a superior edge to drive into
turns. Designer Marc Lyle took volume out of the ends and redistributed it around the
cockpit area. The added volume behind the cockpit makes for a stable platform upon
which to throw ends. The lines on the deck were kept smooth to ensure minimum
resistance when linking vertical moves. Indeed, our testers found that verticality is no
problem with either model. They are slicier than any other boat Dagger has made and
they paddle downriver easily.
May, June 2000 Both boats have pronounced foot bumps that add additional comfort. It's the first boat
• Features I've paddled that allowed me to do all the hucking and spinning, while still allowing me
• Special CanoeSport to feel my toes at the end of the day. The Centrifuge and Ultrafuge come standard with
Journal Supplement a new form-fitting bulkhead that you can custom fit to a particular size. This system
• Hotline makes it substantially more comfortable. The boats also come standard with a Bomber
Gear backband and an improved ergonomic seat.
• Destinations
• Gear --Stay tuned for the Outlaw and Showdown, Dagger's new river running playboats.
• Skills
• Surf Zone Pyranha ProZone 225/235
Pyranha is known for their cutting edge creek boat designs. Last year they made a big
splash with the InaZone playboat. This year they've set it off with the ProZone, a
More from high-end freestyle dream.
Gear
They started with the successful shape of the InaZone and redesigned it into a low
Yet another generation of profile playboat. The ProZone is driven by balance and agility, yet is friendly to all skill
playboats levels. The sharp concave chines create a seriously loose hull that rips any wave to
pieces. Although spins are effortless in this boat, we found that the ProZone begs for
more explosive moves like dynamic blunts. Sleek, low-volume ends beg for verticality
Return to
Table of Contents
both in a hole and on flatwater. The bow and stern pull through the water with ease
and are quick to initiate for endurance sessions at your favorite playspot.
The ProZone has a new innovative seat adjustment system similar to the Storm, only
better. The seat is fully adjustable with grommets that allow movement without having
to deal with screws. The ProZone offers the same shock-block system as the
InaZones, but Pyranha added a block in the stern to prevent creasing or folding. The
ProZone is available in two sizes, the 225 and the 235. It was a favorite for this test
team, and we give it two thumbs up.
WaveSport ForPlay
The ForPlay was the winning Men's K-1 boat at the 1999 World Rodeo
Championships. "It's very balanced proportionally and it is the loosest planing hull of
any boat I've ever paddled," says World Champion Eric "Wick" Southwick. Our testers
found the same results.
Size-wise, the ForPlay comes between the X and XXX, but is faster and has less
rocker than either one. The hull measures 22.25'' wide, chine-to-chine, making it the
most narrow playboat on the market. This boat takes some getting used to, but it
leaves you a large margin for error. The narrow ends are forgiving and performance is
surprisingly consistent for both experts and beginners. We found that the ForPlay did
well for people between 130 and 190 pounds, and that performance fell off after that.
Unlike the XXX, the ForPlay has 12 inches of knee height, making for a spacious
cockpit and making it easy to get in and out of the boat. The rest of the outfitting
includes the standard WaveSport seat and thigh braces which come in both small and
large. The boat is available with a bulkhead or foot braces depending on your
preference (I prefer foam). We found the ForPlay to be a comfortable,
high-performance play boat.
Perception Amp/Shock
The Amp and the Shock are Perception's two new freestyle designs. The Amp is
designed for larger paddlers and the Shock is a smaller version. Both are aggressive
playboating machines. These kayaks boast very loose and fast hulls that excel at
wave surfing. Our
testers found clean spins to flow from 180 to 720 degrees. The distribution of volume
around the cockpit creates one of the most retentive boats on the market. This
retention makes the Amp and Shock equally enjoyable in a hole. A razor-sharp edge
creates lift when the hull is flat on a wave while simultaneously acting as a cutting
edge for carving. This combination creates the atmosphere for dynamic moves.
The Amp and Shock come with all new adjustable thigh grips (tech rep Woody
Callaway is campaigning to call them Thigh Masters). The boats have a super thin,
multi-adjustable bulkhead with a slotted groove that is fully adjustable top to bottom as
well as side to side. This system fits short and tall people comfortably. The plates have
a foam block that goes between the bulkhead and your feet, and are used for major
adjustments in the bulkhead size. All of these features make these boats as
comfortable as they are fun to paddle.
Riot Disco
This is the first boat Riot has designed that is actually user-friendly to the mortal
paddler. The Disco allows intermediates to do moves that were unattainable in
previous designs. Although the boat is slower than many other boats we tested, it is
faster than the 007 and tracks well for a short boat. The performance jumps
significantly once the boat is planing on a wave. A unique innovation on the Disco is
the implementation of skegs. They're placed behind the seat and are anchored by two
inserts that can be mounted with a Phillips screw driver. The skegs are injection
molded and are 2.5 inches deep and 3.5 inches long. The seating position is
comfortable considering how short it is. The cockpit layout is a touch longer than Riot's
standard opening. The Disco is made from Riot's new Xytec plastic, which is super stiff
and very light. The boat comes standard with your choice of foot pegs or a bulkhead,
and includes a backband. It also comes with a patented D-3 (Device 3) seat that is
fully adjustable up and down and back to front. The seat is a bit of a pain to get
perfectly adjusted, but once in place it is rock solid and a huge improvement over the
old saddle design. Our team did note one thing with regards to rolling the Disco: the
boat will stern-squirt on a roll, especially if your weight is shifted back. If you intend to
back deck roll, be ready to turn it into a screw-up.
Necky Zip
Although it was still in prototype form when we got our hands on it, Necky’s Zip was
one of the coolest boats we tested. It has a refreshing shape compared to other boats
on the market, and despite being visually different it still incorporates Necky’s clean
trademark look. Designer Spike Gladwin did a fabulous job incorporating surf
technology into a kayak that begs for wave riding action. Designed for boaters
140-250 lbs., the Zip sets new standards in looseness. Its most distinguishing features
are its slightly concave freeboard and side rails, which give it an ocean surf look and
feel. Surfing is definitely its theme. In tests at Trestle, paddlers were amazed at how
easy it was to perform clean spins, green grinds down the face and massive blunts.
The even volume distribution also allows for incredibly smooth cartwheels, in holes,
eddylines and the flats.
A further advantage is its comfort for a large range of paddlers. Those at the lower end
will have a super comfortable surfing and river-running boat, while those at the upper
end (up to 6’4” and size 12 feet) still fit with room to spare, with no loss of
performance. Necky’s greatly improved outfitting, including rotomolded seat,
integrated backband and thighbraces, mean a boat that fits right from the start. . Info.:
(604) 850-1206, www.necky.com
—Editor's note: Reviewer John "Tree" Trujillo is the CEO of Outdoorplay.com, located
in Hood River, Ore. He weighs 175 pounds, is six feet tall, and has been involved with
paddlesports for 15 years, including stints on the U.S. team and medaling at several
Olympic Festivals.
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River Flows
How to buy a Canoe
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA Gene May
OK, you've decided to get a canoe, and you're reading this to get an idea of what to
buy. If you've been thinking about a canoe for a while, you've probably talked to some
paddling friends who own one, and maybe talked to some stores or rental liveries. If
you asked them for specific suggestions, they may have asked you some questions.
Maybe you're reading this hoping to get some specific answers. Sorry, this isn't the
article you're looking for—I'm not going to tell you what to buy. What I am going to do
is to help you make a choice you'll like, and in the process, get you to see why
experienced paddlers often dislike making a decision for someone else.
First, let me dispel some potential fears: You don't have to worry about buying
something poorly made if you get one of the major brands. I have three different
canoes, each from a different manufacturer, and have no complaints about quality
from any of them. And don't worry about buying something you'll change your mind
about after you become more experienced, because it will "feel different." Don't worry.
The differences between canoes are "feelable" even to inexperienced paddlers.
The best advice I can give is simple: Paddle as many canoes as you can, at least until
you have some confidence that you understand and like what you're feeling. Also, test
drive boats the same way you intend to paddle them. In other words, if you're going to
paddle with a spouse, the two of you should do your "test paddles" together. Same
goes for if you're going to be paddling with your kids. Take them with you, and paddle
together and share ideas. This gets to be fun fast, as you realize that you can really
May, June 2000 tell differences easily, and you experiment with different characteristics and share
impressions with each other. Buy from a store that is near water and lets you test
• Features canoes. Take advantage of the "demo days" manufacturers offer in conjunction with
• Special CanoeSport their retailers. They haul in most of their models for just this purpose and their
Journal Supplement schedules are usually available in late winter or early spring.
• Hotline
As for characteristics, I'm reluctant to make general statements like, "a canoe shaped
• Destinations
like so-and-so will handle like so-and-so." There are several ways to get a canoe to
• Gear handle a certain way, and design features can interact differently. You can't predict
• Skills handling and feel solely by reading technical descriptions. Theory is nice, but it doesn't
• Surf Zone substitute for getting in a canoe and trying it.
The first thing most people notice about a canoe is its material. Think back to the first
canoes you paddled—if it was at a camp or from a livery, there's a good chance it was
More from
an aluminum Grumman. The canoe design is a good blend of compromises—it tracks
Skills well, turns well and it is not too "tippy." These canoes are almost indestructible, which
Canoe Rescue is the main reason camps and liveries buy them. They also aren't too expensive.
Techniques However, they are also heavy. So we have the trade-offs: cost, weight, strength and
resistance to being cracked or dented (related to strength but not the same thing), and
How to buy a Canoe ease of repair. Other materials available include wood, fiberglass, Kevlar and
semi-flexible synthetics like Royalex. How do they differ? Wood is relatively weak, not
too light, and requires maintenance. Attractive wood canoes tend to be expensive, but
Return to none of the other materials come close to the traditional beauty of a well-made
Table of Contents
wooden canoe. Fiberglass usually makes for lighter canoes than aluminum, and is
plenty strong, but more expensive. Kevlar is stronger and lighter still, and even more
expensive. There are some exotic, light combinations of foam, Kevlar and graphite
models available, mostly in competition canoes, but they are pricey and often more
delicate because strength is traded for weight. Semi-flexible materials will take an
amazing amount of abuse, and pop back into shape. Think about how you will use the
canoe, and match this to the material characteristics.
Look at some canoes from the side, in particular, at the bottoms. Some are straight
and flat, and some have a little curve, called "rocker" (after the chairs). This
characteristic greatly effects how a canoe handles. The straight or flat-bottomed
canoes have a long "footprint" on the water, meaning that a long piece of the hull is
submerged, adding to the resistance of it being rotated horizontally around its center
point. Flat-bottomed canoes track in a straight line well, don't turn too easily, and glide
well because the long footprint doesn't have to push much water aside. If you are
going to be on lakes or flat water where the decreased maneuverability isn't important
but where paddling in a straight line is, this is a desirable characteristic. A canoe with
rocker has the center deeper in the water, with the ends less in contact with the water,
so it turns around its center more easily. Whitewater and slalom canoes often have
lots of rocker for maneuverability, but they require better paddling technique to make
them track. They also don't glide as well as a flat-bottomed boat, because their
centers, being deeper, have to push more water aside as the canoe glides along. Try
both; it is very easy to sense.
Now look at some canoes from their ends. In non-technical terms, the word "stability"
means the canoe's natural tendency to make itself sit upright when tipped over.
Surprisingly, there are two kinds of stability: "initial" and "final" (sometimes called
"secondary"). Initial stability means the canoe's tendency to right itself when it is close
to being upright. Final stability means the canoe's tendency to right itself when it's
leaning way over. How a canoe's hull is shaped, and looks from the end, has a lot to
do with stability. The two kinds of stability don't necessarily go hand in hand, so these
characteristics are something you should experiment with when you test-paddle. Do
this in a bathing or wet suit with a PFD, so you can get the feel when the canoe is way
over, and you won't care if the canoe tips. I personally don't care much about initial
stability, but like lots of final stability. If I fished a lot, or took pictures, or had kids
scrambling around in the canoe, I'd feel differently. I like to be able to lean a canoe to
help it turn; if I can lean way over, the ends of the canoe come out of the water and it
is the same as having lots of rocker, enabling quick turns. I also like to be able to
counteract current when I enter moving water by leaning the canoe away from the
direction of the current, without having to fight the canoe to stay upright.
Unfortunately, there are trade-offs in hull shape: canoes that look "flared" from the
end, wider at the top than at their waterline, tend to have better final stability. However,
they aren't as comfortable to paddle, because you have to hold the paddle farther out
to keep from hitting the canoe. If the canoe has the opposite of flare, called
"tumblehome," it will be easier to paddle but may tend to get tippy suddenly as it is
leaned away from vertical. Flatwater marathon racing canoes often have lots of
tumblehome, because these races usually don't have sharp turns, meaning you won't
be needing to lean the canoe.
In short, when in the market for a canoe, use the same skills you'd use in buying a car.
Where and how will it be used? Who will be driving it? What features do you want it to
have? Then, get out there and test drive.
—A long-time canoeist, Gene May sits on the board of the American Canoe
Association.
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River Flows
Top Surf Spots
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
Whatever the reason (bony river, no shuttle, fanatic impulse) kayakers are heading for
the biggest whitewater on the planet—ocean surf. After years as a fringe thrill,
butt-surfing, so called by (jealous?) stand-up surfers, is suddenly taking off. But ask
someone where a good place is to take your boat and you may get a blank look. So
here's a guide to the breaks with a kayak culture. Expect to see every kind of craft,
and every level of kayaker—from a rodeo wannabe's first salt to a U.S. Surf Kayak
Team (USSKT) champion's millionth bottom-turn. Remember: board surfers were out
there first and prefer not to get torpedoed, so don't "drop in" (see surf etiquette).
They'll be cool unless you act a fool.
West Coast
La Push, Washington
Where to Go: Let's start with the gnarly Northern outpost of the sport, where surf
kayakers have been gathering for "The Pummel" Surf Frolic every January since the
1980s. Monolithic sea stacks rise above 8- to 12-foot waves near a jetty by the
Quileute River, accessed from the Quileute Indian Reservation. Beginners can play in
the shore-break soup, experts can skip paddling out through the surf by riding the river
out on the north side of the jetty. Round the jetty and rip, but stay nearby, as surf can
get unfriendly farther south. Don't forget your dry suit or your roll. Another Bet:
Westport.
Who to Know: Quileute Indians host visitors in cozy cabins overlooking the beach at
May, June 2000 Ocean Park Resort (360-374-5267). Seattle's Pacific Water Sports
(www.pwskayaks.com) is the nearest kayak base (three-plus hours east); they host
• Features surf clinics and carry local Nigel Foster's Surf Kayaking how-to book. Washington
• Special CanoeSport Kayak Club (wakayakclub.com) has outings and events. Check www.ndbc.noaa.gov
Journal Supplement for swell predictions BEFORE you make the drive.
• Hotline
• Destinations Events: The Pummel Surf Frolic, La Push, January/Washington Kayak Club; Oyster
• Gear Open Kayak Surf/Westport/October.
• Skills Cannon Beach, Oregon
• Surf Zone Where to Go: Oregon board surfers suffer water temps in the 50s year-round, so let
them have Short Sands (and the steep hike in) and take friendlier Ecola State Park's
Indian Beach. Point Break movie buffs will recognize the craggy cliffs of the protected
More from
cove where Keanu Reeves stole the last scene. Start with beginner waves on
beach-right and move left for more gnarl. Northwest wind and a mid-tide make for the
Surf Zone best surf; logs and sharks can add occupational hazards. Another Bet: Cape Kiwanda
Top Surf Spots near Pacific City. Who to Know: Pacific Wave Kayaks (www.pacwave.net) in
Warrenton, and Alder Creek Kayaks (www.aldercreek.com) in Portland have rental
kayaks, surf clinics, and Willamette Kayak and Canoe Club's book Soggy Sneakers, a
Return to guidebook to local paddling. Oregon Coast Kayak Surfer
Table of Contents (www.members.xoom.com/ocks) has tips and links to weather and swell, as does
Pacific Wave's Web site (www.teleport.com/~forwejo).
Events: Oregon Kayak Surf Off/Pacific City/October/Oregon Kayak and Canoe Club
(OKCC); Oregon Cup Pacific City Surf Off/May/Alder Creek; Short Sands Salmon
Bake and Surf/September/OKCC
Moonstone Beach, California
Where to Go: Located 300-some miles north of San Francisco and 70 miles south of
Crescent City, Moonstone Beach is the hometown break of Dick Wold, one of the
forefathers of surf kayaking. You'll find this 1999 USSKT member out ripping it up in
his Wold Skis, made especially for surf kayaking. Moonstone is accessed by the West
Haven exit, 12 miles north of Arcata. Shoot for high tide and you can ride the Little
River to the outside. Another Bet: If waves are nasty at Moonstone, try Crescent City's
South Beach, when swell is 7 feet and below; Point St. George when swell reaches
7-14 feet; Garths for swells 10 feet and up (if you dare). Who to Know: Adventures
Edge, in Arcata, is the source for kayak rentals and info. Stop by Dick Wold's
workshop (707-822-4673) in McKinleyville to check out one of his surf machines.
Events: Pismo Pier Annual Kayak Surf Contest/October/ Central Coast Kayaks;
Jalama Beach Surf Off/March/Paddle Sports of Santa Barbara; Campus Point Kayak
Festival/Santa Barbara/January/ Steve Anthony (800-690-7473).
San Onofre, California
Where to Go: Since Merve Larson's waveski revolution, this area has become a
buzz-word for butt-surfers. Good thing that San Diego County has the most rad surf
spots per capita, according to local surf kayak legend and boat designer Mike
Johnson. He'll be out testing his latest prototypes on the designated kayak break at
the south end of San Onofre State Park ($6 entrance fee, 150 car limit). Located by
San Onofre nuclear power plant, some suspect a board-surfer conspiracy theory, but
Johnson says, "No worries, it's a very user-friendly, wide open, fun place." Waves
average 3-5 feet, best on a low, incoming tide. Another Bet: Carl's Jr., north of San
Clemente near Trestles.
East Coast
South Shore of Long Island, New York
Where to Go: You wouldn't guess Gilgo State Park is around the corner from
downtown Manhattan. The clean expanse of white sand has a good beach break two
hours on either side of low tide, or paddle out to the point break dividing the bay and
ocean for great waves and scarce board surfers. Best swell comes from hurricanes.
Park on the bay side by the Gilgo Inn, which has bar, food, showers and bathrooms
through October. Get there before 7 am (Memorial Day to Labor Day) to avoid $20
parking fee. Another Bet: Long Beach (but skip during mid-summer crowds).
Who to Know: Empire Kayaks (516-889-8300) in Island Park is the local kayak source.
Also try Rich Black (BLACKRI@mail.northgrum.com) of Long Island Social Surfing, a
Sunday morning kayak club. Check the Gilgo cam at
www.bungersurf.com/Bunger_Surfcam/index.html or the Long Beach Surf Report
(www.members.aol.com/lbsurfrept). Events: Seafood Festival and Surf
Contest/LidoBeach/September/Empire Kayaks.
Manasquan Inlet, New Jersey
Where to Go: Just south of the Big Apple, Jersey Shore waves are best in a kayak. On
the north side of Manasquan Inlet, Manasquan Beach has an off-shore break that's
great after the crowds leave for the season. In summer, head to Point Pleasant Beach
south of the inlet; the north end is a kayak zone with nice 3- to 6-foot curlers at high
tide when winds are from the east. Another Bet: South of Atlantic City at Ocean City
(38th, 40th, and 59th Street beaches) and Sea Isle City (29th, 56th, and 65th Street
beaches). Who to Know: Jersey Paddler (www.jerseypaddler.com) in Brick, boasts
one of the largest kayak selections in the U.S., creating an avid 'yak culture in the
area. They have rentals and roll classes and many of the staff head for the surf after
work. At the Atlantic City end of the coast, TI Kayaks (www.tikayaks.com) in Ocean
City, open May to September, has tours and clinics and hosts a surf festival in the fall.
Who to Know: Kitty Hawk Sports (www.khsports.com) in Nags Head offers surf
classes and kayak rentals; ask about the "expression session," first Saturday of the
month, free and open to all. Their Web site lists ACA-sanctioned surf kayak events
and results. The Ramada Inn (252-441-2151) is kayak friendly—concierge Rex
Etheridge surf kayaks on his lunch break. Check the Kitty Hawk surf cam
(www.SurfChex.com). Events: Outer Banks Surf Kayak Festival/Nags
Head/October/Kitty Hawk Sports.
Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina
Where to Go: Fondly referred to by surfers as "the Hurricane capitol of the East
Coast," Cape Fear sticks out just enough to catch most tropical storms. Hurricane or
not, head for the north tip of Shell Island by Shell Island Resort, where the break is
100 yards out. A rip on the inlet side keeps stand-up surfers away (except for a few
friendly long boarders). Best in mornings on a rising tide in spring and fall, after meter
maids retire. Water remains warm well into December. Another Bet: Crystal Pier, a
rock jetty south of Wrightsville strip.
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River Flows
9 Top Baja Sea Kayak Getaways
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA Mike Everitt
Have you ever had one of those winters where it seems like it's been raining for forty
days and forty nights and you can't remember exactly when it was you last saw the
sun and you just freaked out at the ghostly white visage staring back at you in the
bathroom mirror and then you discovered fuzzy green stuff growing between your toes
and you looked outside and it's started to sleet and you're sick and tired of it all and
you just want to scream?
What you need is a winter getaway, an escape to a warmer clime where you can
expose that fish belly to Father Sun, dig your moldy toes into the warm sand of Mother
Earth and run naked down an empty beach without worrying about what the neighbors
might think. In short: you need a vacation.
But not just any vacation; you need to pack your dry bags, load the kayak on top of the
car and head for the kickback culture of Baja, Mexico. A land where you can paddle
turquoise waters all day, eat your fill of freshly caught fish all night and fall asleep
beneath a dazzling display of razor-sharp stars. Or if you like, you can cruise into the
local town, quaff a few cold cervezas (beers) and bump and grind the night away at
the local disco. Your choice.
So where to go? How to get started? Do you need to speak Spanish? Should you hire
an outfitter, or would it be better to go it on your own? Despacio, amigos--slow down!
Here, we share with you the best places to paddle a sea kayak in Mañanaland. Some
spots you may want to join up with a commercial group, others you have to do it
yourself. Knowing a little Spanish helps (Another margarita please) but don't
worry--most locals know enough "American" to get you by.
Baja's kayaking season generally starts in October, but many prefer the period from
March to May, when the air and water temperatures are warmer, winds milder. And if
crowds are not your idea of a relaxing vacation, plan to visit after Easter--you'll find
most places deserted. Some of the trips listed below require you to provide your own
boats and equipment, but if you decide to join a commercial trip, you'll find they usually
include all food, gear and guidance. In addition, many companies put you up in a hotel
the first and last night of your trip. Some outfitters offer low-cost, participatory-style
expeditions that are completely self-supported. Others bring along the proverbial
kitchen sink by using motor boats to carry beach chairs, volleyball nets and
circus-sized community tents. Some companies even run their "adventures" from small
tour ships, which lavish you with gourmet food and luxurious lodging.
May, June 2000 Because of its physical nature, there are two distinctly different sides to Baja. There's
• Features the flat, wind-swept Pacific coast side that's known for its annual gray whale migration
• Special CanoeSport and there's the calm, mountainous Sea of Cortez side which is better suited for kayak
Journal Supplement expeditions. Each location is a vacation unto itself, a place where you can spend a
• Hotline day, a week or the rest of the winter.
• Destinations One caveat though: once you're there, you may find it very difficult to leave. Consider
• Gear yourself warned.
• Skills
• Surf Zone THE SEA OF CORTEZ
Marked on most maps as the Gulf of California, locals call the sparkling body of water
to the east of the Baja peninsula Cortez's sea--in reference to Hernan Cortez, the
More from Spanish pirate who "discovered" this area in the mid 1500s for King, Country and his
Features own pocket book.
9 Top Baja Sea Kayak This is an area rich in marine wildlife and where towering mountains crash abruptly
Getaways into its clear, aquamarine waters. Its coastline is peppered with islands, bays and
Triumph and Tragedy at beaches--many of which are inaccessible and uninhabited and just waiting for
the 1999 World Rodeo someone like you to discover them. And it's easy to wax hyperbolic about the
Championships magnificent variety of desert plants you'll find in this area. Because of its isolated and
arid nature, many of these plants are biologically unique as well as visually stunning.
Barrel cactus, ocotillos and large forests of cardons blanket the landscape and make
Return to any hike worthwhile.
Table of Contents
Due to the protective nature of the mountains to the west, the Sea of Cortez is a much
calmer body of water than the ironically named "Pacific.” During December and
January, however, winds from the north (called El Norte by the local fishermen) howl
southward from the States and can create dangerous conditions for kayakers. Famous
for blowing for days on end, these winds must not by taken lightly. Do your paddling in
the mornings and try to avoid large sections of open water, especially in the
afternoons.
ESPIRITU SANTO
Many of the slick photos you see in kayaking brochures of bright kayaks plying azure
waters with gorgeous women at their helm are taken in this area. And for good reason:
this is one of the most beautiful places on the planet for sea kayaking. With its
blue/green waters and white beaches, this is also one of the most popular kayaking
destinations in Baja. So if your aim is to experience a classic (if somewhat crowded)
paddling adventure, start here.
Located just north of southern Baja's capitol, La Paz, Espiritu Santo is actually one
large island surrounded by five neighboring islands--all of them crying out to be
explored. Renowned for its rugged landscape and deeply indented coastlines, these
undeveloped islands are part of a protected reserve, meaning that development and
overuse is sharply regulated by the Mexican government. It also explains why the
water is so exceptionally clear and boils with a wide variety of marine critters--a great
thing if you're into snorkeling and/or fishing.
The western side of Espiritu is littered with white sandy beaches behind which are
enticing canyons that contain a magical world of desert plants and animals--keep your
eyes peeled for the mysterious Babisauri ring-tailed cat. And for those looking for the
"Flipper Experience," there's a small chain of islets to the north where you can swim
with a colony of sea lions if you dare.
How to Get There: There are direct flights (around $270) from LAX to La Paz--the
small city where John Steinbeck's tale "The Pearl" took place. If you're going with a
commercial outfitter, they'll pick you up at the airport. If you're going on your own, most
private boaters launch from Puerto Balandra or Playa Tocolote (about 25 miles north
of La Paz).
Best Bets: Hotel La Perla is a clean, moderately priced place located right on the
water. Nearby are many lively restaurants and cantinas. For late night entertainment,
check out Las Varitas Bar and Disco.
Another popular place to kayak in the Sea of Cortez are the islands east of Loreto.
Just up the coast from La Paz, Loreto was the original capitol of Baja when it was
founded by Jesuit missionaries in 1697. Recently designated a National Marine Park,
these islands are considered by some as Mexico's "Galapagos" because of their
endemic plant and animal life. As with many places on the Sea of Cortez, there are
exceptional opportunities to view dolphins, sea lions and fin whales in their natural
habitat. There's also a large number of blue-footed boobies, magnificent frigate-birds
and fleets of brown pelicans constantly soaring overhead.
Because of the many islands to explore, make sure you spend at least a week. A good
trip is the paddle around Carmen Island where you'll find hidden bays, sea caves,
arches and a ghost town that once bustled with the salt trade. Other islands worth
checking out include Danzante, Coronado and Monserrate.
For those who want a taste of something really special, consider spending a couple
weeks paddling from Loreto to La Paz--a distance of some 150 miles. This is an
extraordinary journey along what is perhaps the last remote stretch of coastline in
Baja. Virtually uninhabited, this area falls in the shadow of the spectacular Sierra de la
Giganta Mountains. In many places, hundred-foot cliffs plunge dramatically into the
water while colorful volcanic rock formations line the shore and provide intricate sea
stacks and arches. Inland, you'll find countless twisting canyons to explore.
How to Get There: Aero California offers round-trip, nonstop service from Los Angeles
to Loreto for about $250.
Best Bets: It's highly recommended that you allot some time to visit the town's mission
church and historical museum. Although not as big and urbane as La Paz, Loreto has
many good hotels, restaurants and watering holes. Try the crab platter at Playa Blanca
for a real taste of the sea.
BAHIA CONCEPTION
Conception Bay is one of the true gems of Baja. Located sixty miles north of Loreto,
the bay is an outstandingly beautiful body of water that begs to be visited by kayakers.
Unfortunately, Mexico Highway 1 passes down its western side--which gives easy
access to the RV crowd. Every winter a large contingent of "snow birds" spend months
hanging out here with their motor boats, wind surfers and various accouterments of
gringo civilization.
Not to worry though. There are many good spots still left to discover and with a little
persistence, you can find your very own beach. Or if you don't mind camping next to
others, plunk down in a palapa--a palm-lined shelter--pay the locals a small fee
(usually around $5 a day) and enjoy day-tripping from there. An unimproved dirt road
wraps around the southern part of Conception Bay and wanders up its eastern
shore--a decent SUV can take you to seclusion. Or if you'd rather, launch from any of
the western beaches and paddle across and claim your very own piece of paradise.
Because of its funnel-shaped nature, Conception can get rough when El Norte blows.
What are merely difficult waves in the northern part of the bay, become monster surf
and swells by the time they reach the southern shore. Be careful here, especially in
the afternoons when the winds are worst. People have been known to be stuck on its
beaches for days.
When you finally get tired of all the sand and sun, travel a few miles north to the lovely
town of Mulege (Moo-la-hay). Some think it is the quintessential Baja village, with its
crooked streets, reconstructed mission and free-range piglets. Mulege's charm is
based partly on its oasis-like nature. Situated on the banks of the Santa Rosalia River,
the town is awash in date palms and their attendant shade--in desert Baja, a true
blessing. Mulege sports many small hotels and restaurants, a dive shop, a post office
and a fantastic bakery run by gringos.
How to Get There: Fly Aero California from LAX to Loreto and from there you can hop
a bus or rent a car. Or you can drive down from San Diego in about 14 hours.
Best Bets: If you like shady courtyards and flowering trees, check out the Hotel Las
Casitas in Mulege, but beware the margaritas grande! After dinner, if you can still
walk, wander down the dusty road that leads toward the ocean and climb the old
lighthouse to watch a spectacular sunset.
Known to the hip elite as LA Bay, this is a mecca for southern Californios. Come
Easter, the shoreline of this dry, dusty locale is inundated with motor homes, campers,
jet skis and megabass boom boxes. That's the bad news. The good news is that for
the rest of the year this is a sleepy little town with a couple of stores and one righteous
on-the-beach bar that has the frostiest bottles of beer this side of Anchorage.
Located an easy one day drive from San Diego, there are several islands offshore that
are well-worth exploring. One of the best is the spectacular Isla Coronado with its
1,500-foot volcano. Along with the ever-present dolphins and sea lions, it's been
reported that during the winter, fin whales have been known to feed within fifty feet of
its shoreline.
Some of the best snorkeling in this area can be found at Guardian Angel Island. At
forty-two miles long, it's the second largest island in the Sea of Cortez and one of its
last really wild places. Take ten days and circumnavigate its 125 miles. You probably
won't see another person.
For the less driven, camp anywhere along the shoreline and spend your days paddling
out to Ventana Island or to the Horse's Head. There are plenty of empty beaches,
pellucid bays and lively lagoons to explore.
How to Get There: From San Diego, it's an easy ten-hour drive.
Best Bets: Casa Diaz serves great food and drinks on the beach overlooking the
picturesque lighthouse on Punta Arena. There's a small grocery store in town, but it's
best to bring everything with you.
A few hours south of Bahia de Los Angeles is a remote, wild place called the Bay of
Souls. Devoid of any development and at the end of a horrendous, axle-busting,
four-wheel drive road, Las Animas demands you to stop and soak up its beauty.
Flanked on three sides by soaring mountains, this is a shallow sandy bay that teems
with wildlife--beware the "moving rocks," also known as sting rays. There's a wonderful
beach on the northwestern end of the bay where you'll likely run into other courageous
souls who have braved the wretched road.
A few miles north is Punta Pescador where you'll find a low-lying island that's home to
a large colony of sea lions. Campsites are plentiful and sandy, behind which are
several canyons offering access to some outstanding hiking. Fin and Bryde's whales
are often seen plying the channel off this point. It's also where you'll discover some of
the best snorkeling and fishing in the area.
How to Get There: The remote nature of Las Animas makes this a perfect getaway for
those truly looking to "get away" from the crowds. But because help is many miles
away, it's best to be totally prepared before you visit here. After stocking up on food,
water and gas at LA Bay, drive south on the dirt road leading out of town for 26 miles.
Turn left onto a sandy 4-wheel-drive road and follow it for 11 miles to the Bay.
If rugged surf and deserted barrier islands are your thing, then plan on visiting the
Pacific side of Baja. Once you're past the urban sprawl that lines the coast from
Tijuana to Ensenada, you'll enter the real Baja. This is a land of wind-swept headlands
and rocky beaches--perfect for playing around in the surf. It's also a land of hidden
estuaries and protected bays.
Along its scenic coastline, you can sit and watch the annual gray whale migration, try
your hand at surf-casting or just walk the beaches collecting shells.
The further south you go, the more bays you discover. Starting around San Quintin, a
series of quiet lagoons are sheltered from the turbulent sea by deserted barrier
islands. These sandy barriers protect the lagoons from ocean currents and creates a
fantastic world of wind-blown dunes and bird-filled mangroves. It's also where
thousands of California gray whales mate and bear their young each winter.
SAN QUINTIN
Five hours south of San Diego, San Quintin Bay is one of the first places to spend any
quality time if you're driving down from the States. A well-protected bay flanked by
miles of white, sandy beaches, "San-Can-Teen" offers a wonderful mix of wilderness
and civilization. You can paddle all day, eat dinner in town and camp in sand dunes
that night.
A great way to spend a day or two is to launch at the Old Mill (ask anyone in town
where it is) and explore the nooks and crannies of Bahia San Quintin looking for great
blue herons, white ibis and other birds. Make a pit stop at the old oyster farm and
restaurant in the northwest arm of the bay before heading south to camp near its
mouth.
For the truly adventuresome, don’t miss the paddle to San Martin Island. You'll need to
get up early to make the twelve-mile crossing to the island before the afternoon winds
kick in. Land on the eastern side of the island and camp among pristine dunes.
Snorkeling is excellent in the kelp beds surrounding the island and there are also
extensive lava tube caves nearby you can explore.
How to Get There: From San Diego, it's about a five-hour drive.
Best Bets: South of town, the Hotel La Pinta is a nice place to have dinner and drinks
and watch the Pacific pound the sandy beaches.
Everyone knows about the gray whale migration from Alaska to Baja's pacific lagoons:
Ojo de Liebre, San Ignacio and Magdalena. Over the years, the lucrative business of
whale-watching has put quite a bit of pressure on this area. The Mexican government
responded to all this by clamping down on outfitters and regulating tour operators in
these sensitive breeding and calving locations. Unfortunately, this has seen the rise in
more tours using motorized boats instead of sea kayaks.
How to Get There: Most people drive down Highway 1 from San Diego to Guerrero
Negro (ten hours) and stock up there on supplies. Then you head back north 23 miles
to a dirt road leading to La Manuela fish camp, where you can explore Laguna
Manuela.
Best Bets: There's not much out at the Laguna, but back in town you'll find decent
accommodations and places to eat. If you're interested in taking a commercial boat
tour, head south of town for 20 miles to the whale watching area.
Of the three whale calving lagoons in Baja, San Ignacio is undoubtedly the most
difficult to access. Unlike Ojo and Magdalena, no major highway comes near this
place. Those who wish to visit must endure the bone-jarring washboards that pass for
roads in this area. They must transit the hot Viscaino desert and bounce over endless
ruts and rocks just to get there.
Because of this difficulty, San Ignacio is the quietest of the three whale lagoons and is
also the most well-protected by the Mexican government. But that may soon change:
rumor has it that a large corporation is planning on developing a deep water salt
operation here that might impact the whales nurseries. Best to check this place out
before it becomes yet another Guerrero Negro.
Private boaters are not allowed to put in on the bay proper but can camp out by the
mouth and paddle in the ocean with the whales as long as they obey the local
regulations. Most people don't want to hassle with all of this--which is why, if you go,
you'll more than likely find it all to yourself. Remember though, this is a critically
important eco-area and your actions toward the whales and their newborns should be
circumspect.
How to Get There: One way to get to Laguna San Ignacio is to drive 72 miles south
from Guerrero Negro to the hellish dirt road that leads 42 miles to the tiny little village
of Punta Abreojos on the Pacific Coast. This route is not for the faint of heart. There
are few services in this sleepy little village, so come prepared. Once you get there, you
can put in almost anywhere and paddle south past Estero El Coyote towards the
mouth of San Ignacio. Camping is unlimited here--just land your boats wherever you
feel like and call it home. From there you can watch the whales come in and out of the
lagoon, practice your surf technique, beach comb or sit by a crackling fire and watch
the sun slowly smear the western horizon.
BAHIA MAGDALENA
When it comes to whale-watching, Mag Bay is the “Big Enchilada.” A few years ago
large contingents of international tourists fought for space at the launch site. One
could hear French, German and Japanese dialects split the air as everyone jockeyed
for position in the hopes of being the first ones to get out and claim the best
campsites.
All that has changed. The Mexican government has regulated the area so intensively
that most of the small outfitters that once quietly took groups out on the water are
gone. As was the case with Ojo de Liebre, officials once again decided that it was
better to lessen the impact on the breeding whales with large groups of pangas rather
than with smaller, non-motorized kayaks.
Regardless of this questionable political decision, large (make that VERY large)
marine mammals are the main attractions here. Some outfitters work from a secluded
base camp where they offer paddlers the option of kayaking out to see the whales or
taking a ride on a panga. When you're not out searching for the gray whale equivalent
of Keiko, you'll marvel at the miles of deserted beaches and magnificent sand dunes
that protect the inner waters of the bay from the pounding waters of the Pacific.
Alternative activities include paddling through a maze of mangrove-lined estuaries in
search of magnificent frigate birds, white ibises and other local bird life.
If this sounds like your cup of tea, be forewarned that going it on your own is illegal. To
experience Mag Bay you'll need to sign up with a commercial outfitter. Make sure you
ask them if they provide kayaks--not all do.
How to Get There: Depending on which commercial outfitter you sign up with, you'll fly
into either La Paz or Loreto where you'll be picked up.
Best Bets: You won't find a lot out on the Bay besides the food and entertainment your
outfitter will offer. But once back in town, avail yourself of the many wonderful
restaurants and bars you'll find in both towns.
Paddling South, (707) 942-4550; Venture Quest, (408) 427-2267; Ecosummer, (800)
688-8605
Sea & Adventures (Mar y Adventuras), Topete #564 Interior E/5 de Febrero y Navarro,
Colonia el Manglito, La Paz, BCS, Mexico, 011-52-112-30559, sea@kayakbaja.co
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River Flows
Grey Owl: Voice for Canada's Wilderness
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA Mathew Jackson
We found his tiny log cabin in good repair, nestled against the west bank of Ajawaan
Lake in northern Saskatchewan's Prince Albert National Park. Standing in perpetual
silence, the diminutive cottage remains a symbol of Canada's boundless north
country—a salute to a canoeist who gave birth to Canada's conservation movement
through his words and deeds, as much as through his misdeeds and lies.
After walking for 14 miles under the frown of a turbulent sky, my friend Renee and I
rounded a corner from beneath a canopy of scented jackpine and suddenly saw it. As
we walked across the plank porch and finally through the lonely, creaking door, we
could almost feel the spirit of the mysterious man known as Grey Owl—eloquent
writer, fiery conservationist and canoe ranger—still permeating from its wooden walls.
"Far enough away to gain seclusion, yet within reach for those whose genuine interest
prompts them to make the trip, Beaver Lodge extends a welcome to you if your heart
is right," Grey Owl once wrote from his cabin. He lived there for most of the 1930s,
under the employ of the Canadian Parks Service, writing international bestsellers while
flirting with worldwide fame and his own loneliness. His Iroquois wife Anahereo came
and went, detesting his all-consuming devotion to his books, three of which were
penned at Ajawaan. In truth, pet beavers Rawhide and Jelly Roll proved to be Grey
Owl's most loyal company, going about the business of maintaining an active beaver
May, June 2000 lodge in his living room during the summer months.
• Features It is not an exaggeration to say that Grey Owl was a red Indian like no other. Hidden
• Special CanoeSport beneath a carefully contrived facade, he was in fact not an Indian at all, but rather an
Journal Supplement
Englishman from Hastings named Archie Belaney. He was a European who was not
• Hotline satisfied with merely studying the North American Indian—he wanted desperately to
• Destinations become one. His masquerade was so complete and well-acted, in fact, that his British
• Gear publisher and future biographer, Lovat Dickson, refused for forty years after Grey
• Skills Owl's death to believe he was anything but the Mexican-born Apache half-breed he
had claimed to be.
• Surf Zone
There is little doubt that the remarkable transformation of Archie Belaney into the man
known as Grey Owl is one of the most poignant in Canadian history. There were
More from undeniable signs even as he attended English grammar school as a youngster that he
Special was unique. While most good little British boys were preoccupied with such things as
cricket and football, little Archie invented the Belaney gang who practiced
CanoeSport war-whooping around the school yard, wielding tomahawks with bird feathers stuck in
Journal their hair. As an adolescent, Archie practiced throwing knives and tried to impress his
Supplement first love by feeding frogs to his pet snakes. In his aunt's attic he would sometimes
demonstrate an Indian war dance for her.
Down the Crazy River
Grey Owl: Voice for At the age of 18, finally free of his aunt's well-meaning shackles, Archie sailed for
Canada's Wilderness Canada's north country. He quickly found that he had a gift for canoeing, and while
working as a chore boy at one of the local inns near Temagami, he ventured into the
wilderness whenever opportunity permitted. Wherever he went he carried a notebook
Return to to jot down Indian words, and before long had mastered more than two hundred words
Table of Contents of Ojibway. With this new vocabulary he was able to romance the first of his five wives,
an Apache girl named Angele. Shortly after their marriage he teasingly told her that he
would make a white woman of her. "No Archie," she replied, "I make Indian of you."
As the years passed, Archie grew practiced at inventing and reinventing his family's
history, changing it to suit his audience. He also became adept at changing wives. He
fathered a child with Angele, left her, and married a Metis woman named Marie Girard
from another frontier town in northern Ontario. With Marie he established himself as a
white man with perhaps a streak of Indian in him, and by this time was claiming his
father was a Texas Ranger who was murdered by a Mexican, who in turn was killed by
Archie. Soon he left a pregnant Marie to join the Canadian military during the First
World War. Later, after recovering from war wounds in Britain, he married an English
woman named Ivy Holmes, then promptly left her too. Canada's wilderness was
calling.
An excellent canoeist, Archie's skills as a paddler are what likely saved him from
self-destruction as a bingeing alcoholic, helping him to find work as a ranger in an
Ontario forest reserve. Paddling a canoe, Archie was at his best, and he spent two
summers traveling between ranger stations throughout the remote park. On his canoe
outings he began to notice the effects timber barons were having on the northern
forests, and angrily composed on birch bark his first statements as a conservationist:
"God made this country for the trees—Don't burn it up and make it look like hell!" He
began to dye his hair black and redden his skin with henna, while at the same time
inventing Indian war dances and singing war songs that neither the Iroquois nor
Ojibway could understand.
His journey to that of being the world's most famous Indian conservationist came full
circle when Archie finally met and married Anahereo, the full-blooded daughter of an
Iroquois chief. It is she who would join him on his trapline in northern Quebec in 1925,
claiming that Archie "looked like the ever so thrilling hero of my youth, Jesse James,
that mad, dashing and romantic Robin Hood of America." As taken with her as she
with him, Archie listened when she talked of the tragic demise of the beaver they were
now trapping to earn a living. She instilled in him a strong environmental ethic,
nurturing a belief that the beaver's death would also mean the end of Canada's
northern wilderness.
Thus while living in Quebec, rather than continue slaughtering beavers for fur, Archie
decided to live off his tiny military pension while starting a beaver colony. He and
Anahereo had rescued two young beaver kits after their mother had been killed in one
of his traps, and from that moment on Archie became committed to the cause of the
beleaguered beaver. His trapline out of the way and with nothing better to do, he sent
a story about the life of the Canadian trapper into the British magazine Country Life.
To his surprise, it was so well received that a book was soon requested.
Above all else it is Archie's relationship to his pet beavers, which he named McGinnis
and McGinty because they reminded him of two industrious Irishmen, that would
contribute to his later status as a world-renowned writer and lecturer. He was dubbed
the "Beaver Man" by locals, and to help pay the bills Archie sold ten-cent admissions
to see his pets. Rising from his life as a mediocre trapper, Archie focused on
transforming himself into a distinctly Indian scribe, perhaps realizing the general public
would thus credit him with a natural insight otherwise denied his white brethren. On
November 12, 1930, he signed his name Grey Owl for the first time, and by the
following year had publicly declared himself an authentic "Indian writer."
In the eyes of the public, Grey Owl was fast becoming a symbol of conservation with a
genuine feel for wildlife, a reputation that did not go unnoticed by a certain man in the
Canadian Parks Service. James Harkin, the energetic and visionary Commissioner of
National Parks, was one of few individuals at that time who shared Archie's concerns
about nature and the environment. Already having worked to protect several species
of wildlife—including the wood buffalo, muskox and caribou—Harkin saw the potential
for making a documentary film about Grey Owl and two new beavers whom Archie
had named Rawhide and Jelly Roll. Excited about Harkin's intention to "provide a
living argument for conservation," Archie agreed to participate.
Enchanted with the idea, the Parks Service formally invited Grey Owl to become the
"caretaker of park animals" in Manitoba's Riding Mountain National Park. With
writings, films and lectures, they counted on Grey Owl to stage a publicity coup for the
Parks Branch. He did not disappoint. Later that year his first book, Men of the Last
Frontier, was released by his publisher in England. It quickly flew off the shelves,
scoring highly with fans and critics around the world. "Grey Owl is no stuffed Indian,"
wrote the New York Times.
The more Archie wrote the more Indian he became in the eyes of the public, despite
writing with a literary flair that had put him near the top of his class in English grammar
school. Enjoying his growing popularity as a voice for wilderness, Grey Owl went to
incredible efforts to cover his tracks. When submitting manuscripts to his editors in
England, he would purposely misspell words. On one occasion, after being asked how
he had learned the language of the beaver, he told a newspaper reporter: "I did not
have to learn it. It comes down to an Indian through the ages—instinct." By this time,
Archie was as "Indian" as he ever would or could become.
Archie's second and third books were as popular with the public as his first; Pilgrims of
the Wild sold fifty thousand copies in the United Kingdom alone. His third book, a
children's book titled Sajo and the Beaver People, has since been translated into
eighteen languages and at the time earned him praise as "the best writer on animals in
any language." Copies flew off shelves at a rate of two thousand a week. Incredibly
popular overseas, on his first grueling lecture tour across Britain Archie attended 300
speaking engagements within a span of only four months. Three to four times a day he
spoke to crowds so large that the police had to be called in to control them. On his
second tour, he even gave a private lecture to the royal family at Buckingham Palace.
Like so many truths about Archie Belaney, facts remain difficult to separate from
fiction. While trumpeting a message hailed around the globe as "visionary," his vices
continued to haunt him. He drank excessively and ate poorly, and on his last British
tour was seen swallowing white pills by the handful. Although he hid this side of
himself well, it would ultimately lead to his death a mere two months before his fiftieth
birthday. In April of 1938 he died at his cabin on Ajawaan Lake—alone.
Sitting down on the wooden porch attached to the front of his cottage, I find myself
staring out at the colors of forest and sky reflected on Ajawaan's glassy surface. I can't
help but think that these waters reflect the true spirit of Grey Owl himself—a
complicated patchwork of bright blues, soothing greens and dark grays—blended so
perfectly that one can hardly discern where one shade starts and the others end. As
with Grey Owl himself, there seem no obvious lines to separate the landscape's
changing moods and personalities.
At the far side of the lake, I almost imagine a V-shaped ripple gliding across the
water's surface—one of Grey Owl's beavers returning home. I can't help but think that
while this man might have been many things, there is little doubt of the good he was
able to accomplish during his brief stay in Prince Albert. "And a temple it is, raised to
the god of silence," he once wrote, "of a stillness that so dominates the consciousness
that the wanderer who threads its deserted naves treads warily, lest he break
unnecessarily a hush that has held sway since time began." If he were alive today, he
would no doubt be arguing for the protection of this sacred hush until the end of time.
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River Flows
Expedition News
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
May, June 2000 What would you do for summer vacation as a self-employed teacher? If you're Peter
Bray, 42, of South Wales, you get as far away from your students as you can by sea
• Features kayaking from Newfoundland to Ireland. Having developed kayaking and survival skills
• Special CanoeSport in the British Army's elite Special Air Services, Bray has competed in endurance
Journal Supplement events worldwide. It's a good background for his current endeavor, the North Atlantic
• Hotline Kayak Challenge 2000. The trip--taking place in June--is expected to take 110 days,
• Destinations with all provisions carried inside his 24-foot, carbon-fiber Kevlar kayak. Although the
• Gear crossing has been paddled before, Bray maintains the previous journeys used sails
and took place in the calmer South Atlantic. "Sailing is not paddling," he told the
• Skills
Toronto National Post. "I know what I can do and I know that the Challenge is 90
• Surf Zone percent mental." Info.: www.outdoorchallenge.co.uk/nakc2000.
Po Tsangpo Paddle
More from
Calling it "the Middle Fork of the Salmon with Mt. McKinley's all around," Steve Curry
Hotline and Earth River Expeditions recently discovered a middle portion of Tibet's Po
South Pacific Tsangpo River that they feel is perfect for commercial rafting. "We spend a lot of
Sojourn--Solo energy combing the world looking for great trips, and usually we don't find anything,"
says Earth River's Eric Hertz. "But this time I think we found one of the greatest rafting
Riverboards Increase on
rivers in the world." The exploratory took place last November, with the group finding a
Rescue, Play Markets
waterway with rapids comparable to those of Chile's Futaleufu, minus the Class V,
Expedition News surrounded by easily viewable peaks rising more than 15,000 feet overhead. Of
course, as with all things too good to be true, there is a downside: the trip requires
three days driving to get in and three to get out. Earth River plans to offer the first
Return to commercial trip on the section this fall. Info.: (800) 643-2784.
Table of Contents
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River Flows
South Pacific Sojourn--Solo
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA Mike Shahin
It's easy to assume, and most people do, that the toughest part of Joseph Le Guen's
attempt to row solo across the South Pacific will be the journey itself.
It might be the 15-foot swells and the 40-mph winds conspiring to batter the
Frenchman and his coffin-shaped boat into submission. It might be the 5,600 miles of
grey, hostile sea from scenic Wellington to the boat graveyard of Cape Horn, Chile. Or
the 1.2 million blister-inducing pulls of the oars. Or the four months of freeze-dried
dinners and prunes. All of it, every salt-tinged moment, alone.
But Mr. Le Guen's wife, Marie-Claire Le Gac, has watched her husband do this before,
and she knows when her man will really hit bottom. "When he comes back," Ms. Le
Gac says, "he'll be wasted. That will be the tough time: He's emotionally wasted, he's
all alone, he's on another planet."
That, of course, is assuming Mr. Le Guen does come back. He and his wife
acknowledge the danger, although they say they have no doubt he is capable of
completing the never-before-attempted journey alive. Five years ago, Mr. Le Guen
rowed alone across the Atlantic Ocean, from Europe to the United States, in 103 days.
Two years later, he again crossed the Atlantic, rowing with a French double-murderer
in a race meant to raise awareness about the issue of prison conditions (they lost to a
pair of New Zealanders).
May, June 2000 This time, the official purpose of the trip, which began Thursday, Feb. 3, is to highlight
the problem of ocean pollution. The rower has affiliated himself with an
• Features environmentalist group of French academics and has dubbed the project Keep It Blue.
• Special CanoeSport But the motivation appears to go much deeper for Mr. Le Guen. How many people,
Journal Supplement
after all, would leave a newborn son (Tangi arrived Jan. 1), four other children (from
• Hotline another marriage) and a loving partner, to row across some of the most angry ocean
• Destinations in the world?
• Gear
• Skills "People say Jo is crazy," said Jikiti Buinaima, a Colombian Indian who is a sort of
spiritual mentor to Mr. Le Guen. "But he is a reasonable man. This Pacific crossing is
• Surf Zone
special. It's a symbol of change. People love to use beautiful words, but nobody does
anything to change things."
More from Mr. Le Guen, his giant hands flashing and his broad shoulders shrugging as he
Hotline speaks in French, struggles to explain exactly why he is doing this.
South Pacific Perhaps he hasn't fully figured it out himself. But the third-generation fisherman from
Sojourn--Solo France's Brittany region has a clear bond to the natural world and an equally strong
Riverboards Increase on
aversion to urban culture. In short, he needs to get away from a society that he feels is
Rescue, Play Markets
spinning into a frenzy of consumption and waste.
Expedition News "The crossing is the non-acceptance of the accepted (way of modern life). A square
house, fence, yard—it's death for me!" Mr. Le Guen says with a glint in his ice-blue
eyes. "We should never have left hunting and fishing (as a way of life)."
Return to
Table of Contents The rower will eat more than 750 pounds of food over the course of the 5,600-mile
journey, and although he will consume 6,000 calories a day, he expects to lose about
50 pounds. His nine-meter-long, 2,500-pound (fully laden) boat will have 10 sea
anchors to help stabilize the craft in rough seas, and is built to right itself when rolled
by waves.
Mr. Le Guen will be completely alone, except for communications through a satellite
phone and computer. He will receive special weather reports and will send back trip
updates and photos (which will be posted to the project's Web site at
www.keepitblue.net). Mr. Le Guen has packed a few books for the trip, including one
on astronomy and some French poetry. The only novel he has chosen, fittingly, is One
Hundred Years of Solitude, by Gabriel Garcia Marquez.
"I have no doubt that he has the ability to make it back," Ms. Le Gac says. "The only
question is whether the sea allows him to pass through."
—Mike Shahin
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River Flows
Paddles on the Prairie
Canoeing Eastern Montana
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
Jack Ballard
For most canoeists headed to the popular waters of western Montana from the
Midwest or eastern states, the plains of Montana pass like a bad dream. Flat, with little
or no appearance of water navigable to a child's sailboat, let alone a canoe, the
prairielands of the Treasure State are often viewed as something to be endured
enroute to a sparkling mountain paradise.
If the typical canoeists knew what Montana has to offer east of its continental divide,
however, they might not be so hasty on the trek west. From mid-May to early July,
prairie lakes are busy with numerous waterfowl species incubating eggs and rearing
young. The earth also erupts, with lush grasses and blooming wildflowers forming a
tapestry that rivals the alpine meadows of the mountains. Badgers, weasels, antelope
and ground squirrels are also populating the prairie, capping a celebration of spring
with the antics of their furry offspring.
For the paddler, some of the best places to enjoy the beauty of eastern Montana's
"Land Less Traveled" lie in the northeastern and north-central portions of the state.
And believe me, "Less Traveled" is an understatement. On a long weekend excursion
May, June 2000 to Medicine and Bowdoin Lakes last June, my partner and I never saw another craft
on the water. In early July, my family joined a number of friends for a lazy float on the
• Features historic "White Cliffs" section of the Missouri River that so captivated the imagination
• Special CanoeSport of Meriwether Lewis. Although we occasionally saw other paddlers during the daytime,
Journal Supplement we never camped within sight of another party on the four-day outing.
• Hotline
• Destinations Although there are numerous other places to explore, Medicine Lake, Bowdoin Lake
• Gear and the Fort Peck Reservoir/Missouri River area are ideal places to begin. These
destinations boast exceptional scenery, are readily accessible from Montana highways
• Skills and can be navigated by the novice and expert alike.
• Surf Zone
Medicine Lake
The home of Montana's easternmost wilderness area, Medicine Lake lies in the
More from
extreme northeastern corner of the state. There's only one route in to the lake, unless
Destinations you make a circuitous trip into Saskatchewan or northern North Dakota and then drop
This Ain't Your south. From stateside, the lake is most often reached by traveling north from
Grandparents' Summer Culbertson (on US 2) via Highway 16. At 8,700 acres, there's no shortage of paddling
Camp opportunities here. The lake itself and an additional 2,660 acres form the Medicine
Lake Wilderness Area, established by congress in 1976. In addition to protecting the
Paddles on the Prairie
area's wildlife and grassland habitat from development, the wilderness designation is
significant for paddlers in another way—no motorboats, no wakes, no noise.
Return to Upon reaching the lake, the first logical stop is at the refuge headquarters. In addition
Table of Contents
to providing information regarding possible closures, refuge staff can also provide a
checklist of birds and possible launch sites. Although the lake does not have
specifically designated launch sites, numerous fishing access trails provide handy
routes to the water and a canoe can easily be launched from these sites. If you're
looking for suggestions for a day trip, consider the following itinerary: After putting in at
one of the access sites on the north side of the lake, between refuge headquarters
and Gopher Point, paddle south toward Young's Island. After skirting Young's, follow
the south shoreline to South Bay and Big Island. Home to one of the largest nesting
colonies of pelicans in the U. S., Big Island is anything but quiet. From Big Island, glide
into Tax Bay, where the southeast shore is covered in the Sand Hills.
Although it's one of the most appealing destinations in northeastern Montana, visitor
facilities in the Medicine Lake area are limited. There are no established campgrounds
but camping is usually available in the town of Medicine Lake. Contact refuge
headquarters for information (406) 789-2305. Motels can be found in Culbertson, 24
miles south of the lake.
Bowdoin Lake
Like Medicine Lake, Bowdoin Lake is an integral part of a National Wildlife Refuge. If
you don't like birds, don't visit Bowdoin. At least 263 different species have been
recorded here, one of the most productive nesting areas in northern Montana. To
reach Bowdoin, drive east of Malta for about a mile (on US 2) until you see the sign for
the wildlife refuge. Exit US 2 at the sign and you'll be on old US 2. Follow this route for
about six miles to the refuge. Because the lake is managed for wildlife, certain areas
of the refuge may be closed to shelter nesting waterfowl. Prior to visiting, it's wise to
call the refuge about closure areas and dates (406) 654-2863.
Geologists hypothesize that Bowdoin Lake was a horseshoe bend on the Missouri
River in preglacial times and that huge sheets of ice forced the river from the Bowdoin
region to its current location, roughly 50 miles south of the refuge. A quick glance at a
map of the lake lends credibility to geological theory. The 4,000-acre lake is roughly
shaped like a northern-bending horseshoe and it takes little imagination to see the
lake as a wide, shallow bend in the river.
Of all the waters that attract paddlers to eastern Montana, the Missouri River holds the
most appeal. In addition to the scenic beauty of the river and its intriguing history,
there's excellent fishing, especially on the river's Fort Peck Reservoir, where anglers
find abundant walleye and northern pike along with a host of other species.
To explore the reservoir from a canoe, simply find a launch site and paddle away.
There's about a dozen established boat ramps around this 135-mile long puddle. Two
of my favorites are The Pines Recreation Area on the north side of the reservoir and
Hell Creek State Park on the south side. Both sites have camping facilities and can be
accessed in any type of vehicle. No matter where you put in, don't forget—Fort Peck is
big, deep and susceptible to violent winds. Paddle smart and don't take chances.
If you can't tell a pike from a poodle and have no interest in fishing, don't despair. The
Missouri River has plenty to offer the non-angler. Just over 100 miles upstream from
the backwaters of Fort Peck winds the White Cliffs portion of the Missouri River. For
history and geology buffs, this stretch of the Missouri is the river's crown jewel.
Meriwether Lewis wrote extensively about the White Cliffs in his journal and the
multi-colored sandstone outcroppings have fascinated historians and scientists ever
since.
To view and explore Lewis' White Cliffs, plan a three- to four-day excursion from the
Coal Banks Landing to Judith Landing. To reach Coal Banks, drive Highway 87 about
10 miles southwest of Big Sandy and watch for the signs. Judith Landing is a little over
50 miles downstream, about 20 miles northeast of Winifred, via Route 236. From Coal
Banks to Judith Landing, the Missouri still looks much like it did to the wide-eyed
Lewis. Despite the herds of domestic cattle that water at the river and the presence of
a few ranch buildings, this stretch of the Missouri has a big, uncivilized feel to it that's
hard to come by—even in Montana.
Although dozens of the sandstone formations of the White Cliffs are worthy of a
pull-out and exploration, two are especially alluring: the pillars of the Eye of the Needle
and the Hole in the Wall. Unfortunately, vandals toppled the upper portion of the
needle's eye (a delicate sandstone arch) several years ago. However, the supporting
pillars are still intact and worth the scramble to find them. Further downstream, the
Hole in the Wall is, well, a hole...in an imposing cliff wall on a bluff above the river. It,
too, can be viewed firsthand by hiking from the river. If you explore either of these
landmarks or any of the other rock formations, beware. There are as many
rattlesnakes today as there were when Lewis navigated the river nearly 200 years
ago.
Whether it's the Hole in the Wall on the Missouri, birdwatching at Bowdoin, or hiking
on the Sand Hills of Medicine Lake, eastern Montana has plenty to offer the
enterprising paddler. So don't rush past to Yellowstone, there's plenty of beauty before
you get there.
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River Flows
Canoe Rescue Techniques
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA Doug Whipper
One thing you can count on when you take up canoeing is that at some point you’ll
end up in the drink, clinging to your half-submerged craft. And none of us looks
forward to the sometimes long swim; towing or pushing our canoe to shore. There’s a
reason canoe rolls were invented. But rolling your whitewater playboat isn’t always
possible and rolling isn’t feasible at all for most types of canoes. Therefore, it’s a good
idea to have a few canoe rescue skills up your sleeve. The following techniques will
work for all types of canoes in both river and lake situations.
Canoe-Over-Canoe:
A solo paddler or a tandem crew can perform this technique. Any gear from boats
being rescued should be first handed to the rescue boat and stowed below gunwale
lines.
The rescue canoe then maneuvers so it is 90 degrees to the overturned craft. The
paddler or paddlers of the dumped canoe should swim to the end of their canoe that is
farthest away from the rescue canoe and push down to help break the suction. This
facilitates the rescuer lifting the end of the overturned canoe up on to the gunwales of
his canoe. At this point, the paddlers of the canoe being rescued should swim to
opposite ends of the rescuer’s canoe and hold on.
The rescuer (or rescuers in the case of a tandem crew) will now slide the canoe
upside down across the gunwales amidships until it is centered. The canoe is then
rolled upright and slid back into the water. The now empty canoe is brought alongside
the rescuer canoe and the gunwales of both canoes are hand clamped while the
victims crawl back in one at a time.
Canoe-over-canoe can be performed with two dumped canoes as well. The canoe to
be emptied of water first is slid right side up until it is centered over the submerged
canoe then flipped upside down to empty it. The big difference is the first paddler
getting back in the canoe. This is accomplished by a victim being on both sides of the
empty canoe at the mid sections. While one does a seal flop with hard flutter kick the
other steadies the canoe. For people who don’t have the strength to seal flop and
flutter kick back into the canoe, a rescuer can put a sling with multiple loops over the
grip of a paddle and hand clamp the shaft of the paddle at both gunwales (see
diagram).
Boat Bump:
May, June 2000
The boat bump is primarily a river rescue technique. It is used to push canoes into
• Features
eddies so a canoe-over-canoe rescue can be performed, or to push the canoe and
• Special CanoeSport victim all the way to shore.
Journal Supplement
• Hotline Before starting a boat bump the victim needs to be on the upstream end of the canoe
• Destinations swimming the boat on a ferry angle toward an eddy or shoreline. The rescuer paddles
• Gear in 90 degrees to the victim’s boat and pushes with the bow of his canoe just upstream
• Skills from amidships. Maintaining good angle, along with powerful strokes, make the boat
• Surf Zone bump effective. If done poorly, the rescuer can be more of a liability than a helping
hand.
Paddling Awash:
More from
Skills If you dump your canoe in flat water and another boat is not present, one way to reach
shore is paddling awash. It works best if the canoe has good primary stability. Simply
Canoe Rescue crawl back in your swamped canoe and sit on the bottom of the craft and paddle it to
Techniques shore. This is much easier than trying to pull or push the canoe while swimming. This
How to buy a Canoe
obviously doesn’t work in whitewater.
Roll Out:
This is a good technique for self rescue in flat water. The canoe needs to be unloaded
first. The victim positions himself or herself amidships with the canoe floating in the
upright position. The victim then depresses the near gunwale about 6 to 12 inches
below the surface and frog kicks the canoe forward. Before momentum forward is lost
the victim lifts the near gunwale until it is above the water surface. A rhythm is
developed repeating this sequence until the canoe is empty. This can be done with a
16-foot canoe in as little as 25 seconds.
Use a throw bag station whenever running a rapid where the potential for a rollover is
possible. Careful choice of throw bag location is important. The rescuer needs to be
aware of where the victims and canoe will end up once successfully secured to the
rescue line. It’s also important that the person managing the throw bag has lots of
practice in choosing a good location for the throw bag station, throwing the rescue line
and anchoring the rope once the victims have grasped it. Before the rescuer throws
the bag, a whistle should be blown to alert the victims. An inexperienced rescuer is
more of a liability than an aid.
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River Flows
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
March/April 2000
Volume 20 • Issue No. 2
Features
Paddling with Pain
An inside look at 1999's $100,000 World Sea Kayak Championship - and the largest marathon purse ever
For South Africa's Chalupsky brothers, it was personal. For everyone else
racing 33 miles across Canada's St. Lawrence River, it was a chance to lay
claim to $100,000 - the largest cash purse in the sport's history.
Retracing Mackenzie
For 2,000 miles and 200 days, Norm Miller, fed up with the complexities of city life, followed the shadow
of Alexander Mackenzie all the way to the Arctic Ocean.
Some people's desire to paddle peaks only when the river does. A look at
the rare breed of big-water boater - and some of their flooding feats.
They're big, they're bad, they're beautiful: An ode to the monstrosities of the paddling world.
A Reminder
inuendos
River-Trip Planning
Eddylines
Eddylines
Hotline
Hotline Blurbs
New contenders cement concrete canoe championships; kayakers get stranded on Arkansas tributary;
a canoecycle surfaces Down Under; Net Nannie blocks access to Paddler Web site; and more!
Cardboard or Concrete
Ah,the classic art of boat construction: wood, fiberglass, plastic, cardboard, concrete. Wait a minute.
Run those last two by me again?
Paddle Tales
A Shuttle to Remember - or Forget
First Descents
Sea Kayaking Venezuela's Rio Caroni
ECO
Gunnison River Receives New Protections
Destinations
Caving In
Gear
We-no-nah's Rogue
Skills
Paddle like a Pro
Get a Grip-
the EJ series
Different Strokes
Playboating Rules Supreme
Flipside
From the Flip Side
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River Flows
Letter from the Editor
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
The gauge read nine feet. Flood stage. Commercial trips were cancelled. Tree trunks
were buried. I had been down the Selway before, at much lower water. This would be
different.
The high water wasn't a surprise; it was what we had come for. Eight of us, all
kayakers, drove up from Colorado during one of Idaho's biggest water years to find
exactly what we were staring at: water pulsing through bushes normally high and dry.
We were looking for Big, and we found it. All of Idaho was going off. On the way up,
we stopped at the 6,000-cfs North Fork and saw the Golf Course frothing white for
eternity. None of us wanted anything to do with it. We figured the Selway would
provide action enough.
When we arrived at the put-in, the river was just coming down from its previous day's
peak, the gauge still wet above the morning's mark. At this level the run was too
consequential for rafts - a swim might last miles. It was also extremely cold, most of
the water being snow only hours earlier. Going self-support was the only option. We
spent the morning trimming our kayaks, trying to create a balance between bow and
stern with clothes, food and coffee (not necessarily in that order). Our collective mood
was serious. At one point, I saw my friend Bruce carefully snipping unneeded bristles
from his toothbrush. Weight was at a premium.
At the end of the first day, having made 32 miles after a 1 p.m. start, we shared turns
cooking Ramen over the sole stove and shared stories around the fire. Tight with
obligations, three of us left early the next day to finish the trip. River maps were
relatively useless; scenery passed too quickly to ever get a bearing. We barely saw
Moose Creek enter from the right before Double Drop, Ladle and Little Niagara
blended into one big blur. Without a car at the usual take-out, we floated alongside
high water logs all the way to Lowell at the confluence of the Lochsa, portaging
Selway Falls with an eerie mist clinging a foot above the water. In all, our water-logged
posteriors covered nearly 90 miles in two days.
For many of us the trip was a milestone, a first self-support coupled with a chance to
paddle a wilderness river in flood. But there are those for whom even this
accomplishment seems watered down - the people who crawl out of the woodwork to
tackle a flooding Zambezi, Grand Canyon or other high water run. Some people just
like it Big, plain and simple. And that's what this issue's cover story is all about. For
them big water is a drug, and they'll do anything to get their fix. Many of them don't
even boat during normal water years, opting to save themselves for when Mother
Nature cuts loose.
March/April
2000 Our ode to big water, fittingly enough, comes with this issue's debut of our special
River Runner supplement, a call back to the publication that merged like so many
• Letter from the Editor rivers to form Paddler years ago. Though it includes a piece on paddling the North
• Features Fork at the level we saw it, the section isn't all about measuring adrenaline by the liter.
• River Runner It includes a first-hand look at guide school; a piece on big boats plying today's
Supplement waterways; a missing manuscript from Walt Blackadar; and a Skills story on how to
• Eddylines plan a river trip. The latter won't tell you how many toothbrush bristles to trim on a
• Hotline self-support trip, nor how to follow a map on a flooding river, but it will help prepare
• Letter from the ACA you for your journey - come Hell or high water.
• Paddle Tales - Eugene Buchanan
• First Descents
• ECO
• Destinations
• Gear
• Skills
• Different Strokes
• Flipside
More from
Letter from the
Editor
Letter from the Editor
Return to
Table of Contents
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River Flows
Paddling with Pain
An inside look at 1999's $100,000 World Sea Kayak Championship -
Bulletin Boards
and the largest marathon purse ever
Go to the ACA
Joe Glickman
In fact, it was a 60-foot fin whale, one the largest mammals on the planet, and even
more massive from the seat of a sleek surf ski. Simpkins, a 41-year-old kayak shop
owner from Johannesburg, has raced in many of the major kayak races around the
world. He is not one for hyperbole, especially during a race with big bucks on the line.
However, pausing mid-stroke, he thought, "That's the most awesome creature I've
ever seen."
He couldn't savor the moment for long. Bearing down on him in single surf skis were
his countrymen, Oscar and Herman Chalupsky, the brothers from Durban who were
waging a battle with the double in addition to their own personal war. While the singles
and doubles were in separate categories, prior to the race Oscar publicly predicted
that he and Herman would be the first boats to cross the line - bold words since a
competent double ski should be faster than a strong solo ski paddler on flat water.
However, in many people's eyes, including his own, Oscar Chalupsky is the best surf
ski paddler of all-time, and his imposing brother is not far behind. That's why it came
as no surprise to those familiar with both his prowess and his bluster that he
proclaimed he and Herman would slice 30 minutes from the course record of 4 hours
and 53 minutes set by Simpkins in 1997.
March/April Somehow, the incongruous picture of rapacious South African paddlers in surf skis
dodging whales in the frigid waters of northern Quebec captures the wild and curious
2000 nature of the Championnat du Monde de Kayak de Mer - the World Sea Kayaking
• Letter from the Editor Championship.
• Features
Why is the World Sea Kayak Championship in such a remote part of Canada? And, as
• River Runner long as we're tossing questions around, what are surf skis - boats typically raced in
Supplement
warm, ocean swells in places like Australia and Hawaii - doing in a race billed as a
• Eddylines championship for sea kayaks?
• Hotline
• Letter from the ACA True, Northern Quebec produces about as many potent kayak racers as New York
• Paddle Tales City does hockey players. But when you consider that the Inuits, the indigenous
• First Descents people who hunted whales and seals from kayaks, live a few hours north, the race
does have a certain geographical logic. For much of its 760-miles - from Lake Ontario
• ECO to the North Atlantic - the St. Lawrence is less than a mile or two across. But as you
• Destinations follow the river north and east from Montreal through Quebec City, the widening river
• Gear flares out like the world's largest piece of pie. Near Forestville, the small logging town
• Skills where the race begins, the river is more than thirty miles wide and looks more like a
• Different Strokes Great Lake than a river.
• Flipside
Those who live near the St. Lawrence speak of
the volatile waterway with reverence. Unlike an
ocean, this section of the St. Lawrence is large
More from enough to dwarf man but still finite enough to
Features fit onto a human scale. Fog, squalls and high
wind can turn this mellow sea into a frothy
Paddling with Pain mess. Up here, as the locals like to joke,
Retracing Mackenzie summer is the week after the seaway melts
and just before it freezes again. Even in
August the water rarely gets above 47 degrees
Return to F - temperatures more suited for chilling a
Table of Contents six-pack of LaBatt's than racing tippy kayaks.
Still, the question remains: How did the World Sea Kayak Championship come so far
north? In 1996 a race known as the Grand Traversee - "the Great Crossing" - offered
$15,000 in prize money and followed the same course from Forestville to the quaint
resort town of St. Luce on the opposite shore, a 16-hour drive from New York City.
When I went there for that first race, race organizer Denis Senechal told me the race
was conceived in August 1995 after he and three cronies spent 12 hours crossing the
St. Lawrence in sea kayaks. "It had never been done before," he said in his thick
French accent. "Nobody thought it was even possible. We decided a great kayak race
should follow that effort."
The following year, they offered a larger purse. The field grew, including a handful of
elite racers like seven-time World Surf Ski Champion Dean Gardiner of Australia, and
that wistful whale watcher Colin Simpkins. Gardiner, his surf ski stuck at the airport in
Toronto, handily won the sea kayak division; Simpkins, paddling a ski in the
competition class, won the $5,000 first prize; I collected $750 for third.
In 1998 Senechal and Gleeson sought to up the ante. While there were World
Championships for virtually every other discipline in kayaking, there was none for sea
kayaks. After a year's hiatus in ï98, the organizers raised enough money to offer
$100,000 in prizes, including $15,000 to the first solo finisher - a King's ransom in the
impoverished world of marathon racing. They billed themselves as the World Sea
Kayak Championship, alerted as many paddling federations as possible, and waited
for the marathon moose to come out of the woods.
The week prior to the 33-mile crossing, racers were required to participate in an
18-mile qualifying race in Montreal. That race had two goals: To bring the event to the
largest media market in Quebec, and to trim the field to a tidy 100 for the big dance up
north. When "only" 75 racers showed in Montreal - a larger field than they had in 1997,
but not the turnout they'd hoped for - anyone who finished was allowed to paddle in
the World Championship.
The biggest buzz to come out of that race weekend in Montreal was the discrepancy in
the various craft. Within the sea kayak category - any production boat with hatches -
you had hull speed variances as wide as that between Secretariat and Mr. Ed. And
while the race organizers made the allowance for surf skis to be included in an event
called a sea kayak world championship - creating separate categories with cash prizes
paid five-deep in each - they forbid U.S. Olympians Mike Harbold and Phillipe Boccora
from using an Olympic flatwater K2 that the duo had slightly modified.
Therein lay the rub: World class racers don't race (and rarely paddle) sea kayaks; few
recreational paddlers can sit in a high-performance surf ski. While the debate about
craft and specs for next year's race needs to be ironed out, the bottom line was that
the wide range of boats and talent participating in Montreal ventured up the St.
Lawrence for the World Championship.
The week before the race on the St. Lawrence, Colin Simpkins, New Zealander
Malcolm Hall, and I spent the week in the furnished attic of La Maison Gallant, a
charming bed & breakfast, just a manicured lawn away from the St. Lawrence. In my
two previous crossings, I showed up a day before the race, paddled, and headed
home. This year, however, I hung out enough to learn about the seaway's history and
capricious moods. One calm afternoon I paddled two miles out to the spot where a
passenger ship called the Empress of Ireland was struck in 1914 by a Norwegian
steamer. The luxury liner sunk in minutes, killing 1,012 passengers, more than were
lost on the Titanic two years earlier.
I also got to know Malcolm Hall, a gregarious South African who moved to New
Zealand two years ago. This 6'5", 240-pound former bookie dispensed gifts and good
cheer like a beer-drinking Santa Claus in training. (When he inadvertently scared a
homeless man from rummaging through the trash, he hustled after him and gave him
$10. "You can't have an old man digging through the rubbish," he said indignantly.)
We spoke about race and politics, about running waterfalls, sports, fistfights, women,
and becoming an ex-patriot. Such chance meetings, I realized then (and now), is one
of the reasons I travel to long, hard races.
The day before the race, the placid seaway turned hostile. All week the wind had
blown gently out of the southwest, producing a perfect sea for a kayak crossing. Now,
a biting northeast wind kicked up a nasty two-to-four foot side-chop that had each of
us envisioning a private hell. What the top paddlers figured to be a four-plus hour race,
might in fact turn into a sixÜtoÜseven hour struggle - if they weren't too cold or weary
to continue. Local kayak guide Jean-Francois Dube looked like he'd seen a ghost. "If
these conditions continue," he fretted loudly, "I won't paddle tomorrow. I want to live to
go to work on Monday."
Luckily, on race day the raucous seaway sat back down like a mischievous schoolboy
threatened with extra homework. The sky was so clear I could even see the rolling hills
on the distant shore.
I can't say what others were thinking moments before the race, but for me, having
twice done this frigid grind, I felt a combination of anxiety and excitement. I trained
hard, but I'd done no paddle longer than three hours. If all went well, I'd be out there
for almost five hours. Some, like Marie-Eve Desjardins, a handicapped 20-year-old
woman who captivated the local paddling community when she completed the
crossing in 1996 after capsizing en route, would be out there for seven hours or more.
(Sadly, she dislocated her shoulder mid-way through and was unable to finish.)
There were a handful of competitive races waged on this day. In the sea kayak
division, Edmund Joy, Florida's top marathon paddler who finished second to Simpkins
in the 1997 crossing, and former Navy Seal Steve Landick, were within spitting
distance for more than five hours. Landick, a minor legend in long distance paddling
circles after he spent three years in the early eighties paddling 28,000 miles around
North America, is also the solo record-holder at the 260-mile Texas Water Safari. Joy
broke away in the last miles and landed the $5,000 first prize, but seeing him in the
medical tent passed out in the fetal position, one wondered if he felt it was worth it. (It
was, he said days later.)
Closer and even more intense, was the domestic battle waged by the Chalupsky
brothers. Oscar, 36, has won Molokai a record eight times; whereas Herman, 35, has
won the race once and finished second to Oscar six times. Pushed by their father
Paul, a driven man who helped transform South African paddling from an adventurous
pastime to a competitive sport, the brothers have trained so hard for so long that in
time their only true competition in the sea came from each other.
Racing against each other, they tend to treat each other like rival pirates at sea.
(When we train together, says Oscar, we go "flat out.") Racing together as a team,
they've angered their share of the opposition with their words, actions, or both. At a
prestigious race in Spain, an on-the-water scuffle with a Spanish tandem that left them
capsized so infuriated the Chalupsky's that they caught the Spaniards at the finish and
rammed them hard enough to slice their kayak in half. The bottom line is this: Beat a
Chalupsky in a surf ski race and you've done something special.
It's hard to know what was going through each man's head during the race since
neither is prone to psychological analysis. For all but a few minutes of their 4 hour and
24 minutes on the water the brothers took turns pulling each other as they pursued the
team of Simpkins and Cruickshanks. When they passed the tandem a few kilometers
from the finish, it was then each man for himself.
With one kilometer to go, Herman blasted, laboring with the determination of a man
eager to settle a score. He gapped his heavier brother in a shallow section near the
finish and earned a career-best $15,000. After 33 miles, he'd edged the more
decorated Chalupsky by a mere 13 seconds. "It makes me cross," Oscar told me
afterwards. "I had the ability to win but I lost because of poor strategy." In other words,
particulars aside, their life-long skirmish continues.
That night a large group of us went to dinner. After drinking and dancing into the night,
Herman, who spent a considerable amount of his winnings on beer, stayed behind to
continue the cultural exchange with a local jeune fille. Oscar, however, returned to his
motel, packed, and drove straight to Boston. In the morning, he went for a run; in the
afternoon he played 18 holes of golf. Herman flew to Boston and the brothers made
their way to New York City. Following another night of revelry, Oscar called me at six
in the morning to say he and Herman would be at my doorstep in an hour for
breakfast, a few hours before heading to the airport for their fight home.
From the cab, Oscar rolled down the window and told me for the umpteenth time to
hurry up and get over to South Africa. "There's six hundred people at some of our
races; 1,600 at the Dusi. We'll show you what proper kayak racing is all about."
Herman, who for him was as chipper as Wink Martindale, had the last word. "If you
don't get your sorry ass over to South Africa, we'll see you again in Canada."
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River Flows
Some Like It Big
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA Tom Bie
It's a big moment in big water and for some folks this is what running rivers is all about.
They hit runoff at its peak, flood stage if possible, when the twin towers of volume and
velocity combine to turn an ordinary river trip into a blood-boiling,
small-mistake-means-big-consequences experience. It's a short window of opportunity
most years, that uncertain apex when spring hands off to summer, leaving nothing but
memories and a high-water mark. But if you time it right, and have the skills to keep
from becoming just another piece of flotsam tangled in the trees, a big-water run can
be the premier paddle you never thought possible.
One of the most famous high-water runs of all time is undoubtedly that of Olympian
Davey Hearn, who paddled the Potomac in 1996 when it was pushing 18 feet on the
gauge and carrying somewhere in the neighborhood of 300,000 cfs. Hearn was
arrested at the take-out by Park Service police but the judge dismissed the case
before a defense even had to be mounted. "It was actually a very safe and prudent
thing to do," Hearn says. "I'd ran it several times at that level. At 7 to 14 feet, there's a
terminal hole that forms behind the Brookmont Dam, but at 18 feet it forms a huge
wave that stretches a third of the way across the river. I wanted to be in that particular
place at that particular time because I knew the wave would be there."
March/April
Hearn was training for the '96 Olympics at the time but he says he's always enjoyed
2000 the challenge presented when rivers run high. "Big water boating is the best kind of
• Letter from the Editor paddling there is," Hearn says. "There's more power to work with, there's bigger waves
• Features - that's where you put it all together. It's the kind of thing that gives you respect for the
• River Runner river. And if you didn't have it before, you'll have it afterward."
Supplement
Hearn is also a veteran of the daunting Niagara Gorge, which Chris "Spe" Spelius
• Eddylines made famous when he notched the first descent of the mile-long torrent in 1976. The
• Hotline run was illegal and Spe's paddling partner was arrested. But Chris, proving he knows
• Letter from the ACA how to pick a good line both on and off the water, escaped the not-quite-long-enough
• Paddle Tales arm of the law. Spelius is one of the more famous big water paddlers the sport has
• First Descents ever produced, being raised in the West before bringing his high water style to bear as
• ECO an instructor for ten years at the Nantahala Outdoor Center. As owner of Expediciones
Chile, Spelius now teaches on Chile's ample supply of big water, including the famed
• Destinations
Rio Futaleafu.
• Gear
• Skills While Spelius and Hearn
• Different Strokes are two of several kayakers
• Flipside to have run Niagara Gorge,
only one canoe has ever
made the trip, paddled in
1988 by North Carolina's
More from Nolan Whitesell. "Eight of
River Runner us ran it at over 150,000
Supplement cfs," Whitesell says. "We
did more scouting of that
Some Like It Big one rapid than I've done in
The Skinny on Big Boats 10 other rapids combined.
The lines would change
River-Trip Planning from hour to hour and when
A Reminder you were running it you
were blind 80 percent of the
Blackadar's Missing time because you spent most of your time in the trough of a big wave."
Manuscript
Danford and a few local hardcores hit paddling paydirt when they were allowed to run
the Milner Mile on the Snake during a government whitewater study of the section in
1995. "It was a mile of total chaos," he says. "That and the Murtaugh section are the
biggest volume whitewater runs in southeast Idaho." But the following year was the
"year to remember" in Idaho. Danford hit the North Fork of the Payette at seven feet
and was on the Selway when it peaked at eight feet - when they were using
helicopters to escort commercial trips off the river. He's also run the headwaters of the
White Nile in Uganda.
As well as a handful of hairball runs occuring on the North Fork of the Payette (see
page 81), 1996 was also the year that Dan Gavere and Corran Addison - while filming
Paddle Frenzy - tackled the Golden Gate section of Idaho's Clearwater, a run both say
was the hardest they'd done to that point. "I rolled in Coyote Falls and I thought I was
going to get my head ripped off," Gavere says. "There were huge, continuous holes
but luckily it was moving so fast that you'd basically get pushed right through."
Idaho rivers weren't the only western waterways to explode during the 1996-97
record-setting years. California and Oregon rivers spilled over their banks, and more
than a few paddlers were there for the ride. Portland's Scott Andler recalls making a
couple runs down Oregon's lumber-choked coastal streams. "I remember being 20-30
feet into the trees on some runs," he says. "The water isn't that hard; it's the shore
that's dangerous."
And in California, 18-year Bureau of Reclamation veteran Jim Eicher was making one
of the more than 300 rafting trips he's made down the Merced River throughout his
career. "We were almost above the highway at the tops of the waves," he says. The
25-mile trip took less than an hour and in January the river reached 91,500 cfs, forcing
the closure of Yosemite National Park.
One of the inherent dangers of paddling really big water is the risk of "flush
drownings," in which a person - even fully outfitted - may drown not as a result of
getting pinned but simply by taking a long swim in a relentless river.
"Big water is exciting but if the rapids are continuous, a swim can be unbelievably
nasty," says safety expert Charlie Walbridge. "People may get carried for miles,
pummeled by holes, and sucked deep into eddylines and vortexes. Paddlers
sometimes drown despite the use of a life vest. A strong roll is essential." In imagining
a Potomac swim at the level he ran it, Hearn says, "The stuff is so huge it'd be
breaking over your head the whole time. Even if you had a big life jacket, you'd still be
just a speck on the water."
Big and Remote
Running huge water is dangerous enough when it's out your back door. But throw in
the added element of remoteness and the task becomes even more sketchy. Charlie
Munsey was messing around at rodeos in the late '80s but now focuses almost entirely
on big water in big places. "I used playboating to hone my skills so I was comfortable
in the big holes," says Munsey, who's made several big-water pilgrimages to Asia and
South America. "I liked playing, but immersing yourself in a totally committing situation
and coming out at the bottom is the highest satisfaction for me."
Munsey, along with fellow big-water boater and filmmaker Scott Lindgren, say that
although the majority of new boats coming out keep getting smaller to appeal to the
freestyle crowd, they like the large volume of expedition kayaks. "It's funny to see all
the changes going on in other parts of the sport because big water boating really
hasn't changed much," Munsey says. "And I don't think the number of people doing it
has gone up much either." Lindgren agrees. "There will always be a limited number of
expedition and big water boaters," he says. "If you took a look at a big volume river vs.
small and measured a person's blood pressure on each, you'd probably find out why."
Anyone who has seen recent video footage from Africa may disagree with Munsey's
claim that big water boating hasn't changed much. People like Alex Nicks can be seen
throwing wave wheels off of some of the burliest, high volume water on the planet.
And they're doing it in playboats. "Big water sorts the men from the boys," Nicks says.
"And it doesn't suffer fools." But even Nicks has experienced close calls. "I once nearly
drowned when my spray skirt burst and left me with one of my worst swims ever.
Since then I've used a sprayskirt with an implosion bar to support my deck."
HOME
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Canoe Calendar?
I thought ACA/Paddler represented all paddlers. However, it seems more and more
that Paddler represents the world of extreme sports and kayaking (note: your 2000
Calendar doesn't even have one canoe pictured). Please don't forget your "Geezer"
members that paddle the old canoe - we're members too!
I'm extremely disappointed in your obvious exclusion of the canoe and its 200-year-old
heritage in the US & Canada. This is one reader who is tired of these ridiculous kayak
ads and terminology like "boofing and splatting." There are lots of us out there
playboating in open canoes and many more of us wilderness tripping and
canoe-camping. We represent your whole audience. Please, you do your
predecessors wrong - Bill Mason, Harry Roberts, Omer Stringer, et al... "Half the
paddle twice the paddler."
I think I was sent the wrong calendar with my latest issue of Paddler. All the pictures
are of kayaks! The canoeing calendar should have been part of my magazine. I
thought I belonged to the ACA not the AKA.
Editor's note: While we obviously agree that canoeing shots make for exciting photos,
we don't pick the calendar spots. They are sold as ads, with the advertisers supplying
the photos. Nevertheless, next year we'll campaign for more canoe shots.
I think you should focus more on whitewater and less on touring. If I wanted to read
about touring canoes I would read Canoe & Kayak. A friend says Paddler has sold out
and that there are no good magazines that focus exclusively on whitewater. Every
issue you publish should have an in-depth review of a new kayak like the Glide, 007,
Medieval, XXX, etc. Also, you should have funny articles and contests like "The
Lamest Shuttle Vehicle Contest." No one really cares which nose plugs or binoculars
are best for boating. Seeing how the 20-somethings are flooding the sport, maybe you
should try revamping your image and try getting a little more "hip."
March/April - Boonie (river guide/safety kayaker), Hampden, Maine
2000
Canada Kudos
• Letter from the Editor
• Features I really enjoyed the story on Chris Taggart solo canoeing across Canada (May/June
• River Runner '99). Yeah, he might have made it to the ocean if he had paddled with a support team,
Supplement high tech gear and the usual junk associated such expeditions...but he didn't, and
• Eddylines more power to him! In making an Everyman's Attempt and finding his identity as a solo
• Hotline tripper he encourages us all to push the envelope on our own excursions. Way to go,
• Letter from the ACA Chris.
• Paddle Tales - Mike McCrea, Freeland, Maryland
• First Descents
• ECO New Blood
• Destinations
As a new member to kayaking, I look forward to receiving your magazine. I have been
• Gear a member of several hunting and fishing clubs, but I have never met a better group of
• Skills people than the Missouri Whitewater Association. I would like to thank you for your
• Different Strokes support and generous gifts to the MWA for their whitewater races. The MWA has been
• Flipside helpful with instruction in the pool and on the river. Now I am looking forward to my
first trip with them to the Spring River in Arkansas. Again, thanks for your help...I hope
all new paddlers can have as much fun as I've had the past three months.
More from - Tom Kilper, St. Louis, Missouri
Eddylines
Shafted
Eddylines
The subject of bent shaft paddles (Nov/Dec Ô99) seems little more than a contrived
justification for increasing prices. Any necessarily small gains at the end of the stroke
Return to
Table of Contents
are more than compensated for by the reduced efficiency at the beginning of the
stroke where the paddling propulsive force is the weakest from both a geometric and
anthropomorphic standpoint. Stated differently, the cosine of a small angle (at the end
of the stroke) is essentially one, whereas the cosine of a large angle (at the beginning
of the stroke) is essentially zero. When compared with a straight shaft, more of the
bent shaft power at the beginning of the stroke goes toward lifting the boat rather than
driving it. This is an excellent example of the old saw attributed to J.P. Morgan: "There
are no gains without pains." Except, of course, to the paddle purveyors.
Riot Kudos?
I've been paddling for about three years and love your magazine. I like your Eddylines
section except this last issue, where two people wrote about Riot putting the explicit ad
in the magazine. I paddle Riot and although Corran has different views on how to
advertise, his designs are still superb over anyone else's. If these people don't like the
ad, then simply don't look at it. It's just as easy to turn past it and think nothing of it.
People who are really interested in the company or the boats will look beyond the
pictures.
I'm impressed with the humor in your note on Universal Studios' Popeye River Rapids
(Nov/Dec Ô99). Yet it was also a tease, and a big question that wasn't answered, and
lingers in the minds of many readers is... "WHY NOT?" I live in Tampa, Fla. I try to get
to the Ocoee or Chattooga at least a few times a year. In 1999 I found myself driving
for 10 hours to find a dry riverbed. All the while, here at Busch Gardens Tampa Bay, I
have the "Congo River Rapids," which would definitely satisfy my craving. I recently
wrote to them inquiring about any possibilities of a kayak ever seeing time on this
"river." I have yet to hear anything but remain hopeful. I just can't help dreaming of
surfing a hole where I can park in a parking lot, walk through a crowd of spectators, go
surf on the perfect wave, get tossed in the perfect hole and then walk 10 yards to a
concession stand for a coke and popcorn. WOW! Now tell me that there aren't
thousands of boaters in the Southeast who wouldn't love the same thing - and the river
never runs dry!
While it's important to walk softly on the land, it's also important to remember that our
recreational lifestyle is one of the least environmentally impacting activities occurring
in our society. What we really need is more minimal impact logging, mining, livestock
grazing, farming, power generation, land use planning and industry in general. It's
important for those of us who care about the environment to maintain our focus on real
problems. And unless you're a trained ecologist, don't tell others where to camp or
squat or how to cook their food or what water to use. We have allowed political
correctness to stampede over sound science when the subject is camping ethics. It's
time for us to ponder what we really know and what we only think we know.
League Lawsuit
In the Eco Newswire section of the June Ô99 issue you mentioned the lawsuit
involving the Adirondack League and Sierra Club over navigability of the South Branch
of New York's Moose River. Your report, however, overlooked some key components
in the decision handed down by New York's highest court. The Court rejected the
boaters' assertions that their single trip down the river conclusively establishes that it is
navigable. While agreeing that evidence of a river's suitability for recreational boating
is germane, the Court rejected the defendants' invitation to adopt a new legal standard
for determining navigability. Citing a line of cases, including several decided more than
a century ago, the Court held that the basic standard remains what it has always been:
whether the river provides "practical utility to the public as a means of transportation."
The decision strikes a middle ground between those who have called for a new
"recreational use" test, under which a river is deemed to be navigable if it is suitable
for recreational boating, and those who argue that the ability to carry goods to market
is the sole criterion in determining navigability. It virtually guarantees that, in the
absence of state legislation setting minimum navigability standards, the navigability
question will be left to a case-by-case determination by the courts. Another point: the
Court of Appeals ruled that the public's right to navigate carries the incidental privilege
to make use, when necessary, of the bed and banks, including the right to portage on
riparian lands. However, the Court emphasized that the right is limited, and reaffirmed
the right of riparian landowners to sue for trespass those who abuse it.
Kipawa Congrats
Congratulations and thanks for the article on the Kipawa River (May/June Ô99) and
our efforts to preserve it. I am involved with Les Amis de la Riviere Kipawa and it is
great to see your magazine, with its reputation and large audience, pick up the story. It
has been a lot of work trying to make people aware of what is happening and often we
feel like we are getting nowhere. Your article goes a long way toward recognizing the
group's efforts. A couple of comments. Doug Skeggs does most of the work behind the
scenes. Without him the group would be nowhere as effective as it is. Readers can
contact him at (705) 235-5637 (skeggsd@vianet.on.ca). Also, the photo
accompanying the article was taken by Rodney Swatton. Thanks again. We hope to
see you on the Kipawa soon.
Shade Suggestion
Why lay out a story with thin black text placed unreadably over complex, photographic
backgrounds? Take the photo of Tao Berman in the Nov/Dec Ô99 issue for example.
Not very readable. Why design great story text over great photography so most folks
won't bother looking at either one? Either contrast the text or lighten the image
beneath it. That's the difference between Design and Desktop Publishing. In an
otherwise exciting publication, please make it all readable. I don't wanna' miss a word.
Irish Pride
I just received the issue of Paddler with the story on setting the world canoe record
(Sept/Oct Ô99). Thank you very much! It's a great magazine and a brilliant article
about my brother, Chris Maguire, and his friend Neil Armstrong. We all really enjoyed
seeing it, and the rest of the family in Dublin, Ireland, will get to see it at Christmas.
Grateful Granny
I wanted to thank you for such a great magazine! I am a 47-year-old grandmother who
learned to whitewater kayak three years ago at the Sundance Kayak School on
Oregon's Rogue River. I had been an avid whitewater rafter for years and always
watched the kayakers have all the fun. I thought I was too old to learn, but I decided I
would never be as young as I am today and so I went for it! I know I will never be in
competition or run the extreme rivers but I intend to run every river I can for as many
years as I can. I read every one of your magazines from cover to cover, including the
ads for what's new out there. I would love to see more articles geared toward my level.
I'm a sales manager for a major pharmaceutical company so kayaking will always
have to be a hobby. But I'm financially set so I can make those kayaking trips I want
and have the gear that I want. We are a consumer group just waiting for watersports
and gear companies to find us. Thanks again for a great magazine! It helps get me
through the long winter months waiting for those early spring runs while my Pyranha
calls me from the basement.
Santa Surprise
I always look forward to every issue of Paddler magazine. It has helped me more than
you realize. I share a common bond with fellow boaters, be it playing on the Salmon or
cruising on the ocean. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw my Santa photo in the
August Ô99 issue. I don't know why I do these things, but it gives me a warm feeling to
hear kids thanking "Santa" on Christmas, while I'm floating the Chemung River. It
makes me look forward to the coming year with a passion only a true aquaholic can
relate too. Keep up the great work and Santa will put you on the good list!
Exclamation Boy!
What a treat to receive my issue of Paddler magazine! And the gift of a drybag! What
a wonderful surprise! My first Christmas present! I especially love your annual
Calendar issue - it hits my wall within minutes!
HOME
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Hotline Blurbs
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
A Poser...and a Paddler
Some super models pose to earn their living. Germany's Andrea Spitzer, 31, poses
and paddles. Guinness recently awarded Spitzer, a renowned quadrathlon competitor,
with the new World Record for paddling the longest distance in a pirogue in 24 hours.
Spitzer earned the title Sept. 26 by paddling 288 km paralleling the coast of Spain. "To
beat the record Spitzer had to consistently paddle 12 kilometers an hour," says Sergio
Ferrero, president of the International Federation of Quadrathlons. "Moments like
these prove Andrea is the strongest woman in the world." To accomplish the feat,
Spitzer - a three-time World Quadrathlon Champion (where competitors swim 5 km,
bicycle 100, paddle 25 and run 20) - trained six hours a day for the past seven years.
Luckily, her diet is different than that of other models: her workout routine requires her
to eat a minimum of 15,000 calories a day.
- jodie deignan
Southwick Takes Worlds Down Under
Sadly, much of the event was overshadowed by the tragic death of Irish competitor
Nimh Tomkins, who drowned while swimming just before the Dec. 5 finals.
Competition was briefly postponed, but resumed the next day following a blessing by
the local Maori tribe and a recommendation by Tomkins' Irish teammates that the
event continue in her memory.
March/April - tb
2000
Editor's note: for complete coverage of the 1999 Worlds, check out the May/June
• Letter from the Editor issue of Paddler.
• Features
• River Runner Capri Me
Supplement
Drinkers of Capri Sun All Natural Juice Drinks may have noticed a whitewater theme
• Eddylines dominating the product's packaging in recent months. The cardboard cover of the
• Hotline strawberry coolers shows a kayaker in a sweet old-school boat going over a waterfall
• Letter from the ACA of strawberries, cherries, oranges and limes. Flip the box over and there's two people
• Paddle Tales in a raft about ready to wrap their boat on a Class V strawberry. "The packaging is
• First Descents reflective of the outdoors and of being natural," says Mary Jane Kinkaid, spokesperson
• ECO for the Capri Sun brand. "It seemed like a creative way to bring the refreshing aspect
of the product to life. Each of the flavors are linked to a different sport and we felt our
• Destinations
customers would probably enjoy the whitewater boating theme. It was a natural fit."
• Gear
• Skills - tb
• Different Strokes
• Flipside Paddler Web site Blocked by Net Nannie
Sometimes surfing isn't as easy as it should be. At least that's the sentiment shared by
kids throughout the country who recently tried surfing Paddler's newly revamped Web
More from site, www.paddlermagazine.com. The problem stemmed from trying to gain access.
Hotline For a brief period in October, Internet sensors wouldn't allow people under age 18 to
access the site without permission, listing it as an "adult-oriented alternative lifestyle"
Hotline Blurbs site. The Web's guardian of virtues, Net Nannie, blocked access with a similar
National Canoe Safety description. "Some paddlers fit the ïalternative lifestyle' label," says Paddler publisher
Patrol Going Strong Eugene Buchanan. "Especially those living out of their vans for months on end. But
we're a magazine about paddling rivers, not derrieres." Once Internet guards realized
Ohiopyle Falls Race their error, the blockade was lifted.
Raises Money, Lowers
Ban - tb
Kayakers Rescued After
First Descent Attempt
Volcanoes Erupt in Ecuador
NOWR Adopts New When the 15,850-foot Guagua Pichincha volcano erupted in Ecuador in early October,
Classification System it did some disrupting as well. "It totally messed with our plans to go boating there,"
says Brad White, a kayaker who had hoped to paddle near the popular Banos area in
Cardboard or Concrete
December. "I guess now we'll have to head elsewhere." With officials declaring a
Outdoorplay/AW 20-month volcano alert for the country, paddlers like White have good reason to
Announce Cash Rodeo rearrange plans - at least those heading to the Banos region. Outfitters there,
Series meanwhile, remain optimistic. "We're concerned about flight interruptions but the
volcanoes have had no impact so far for us because we don't operate trips in the
Banos region," says Jay Kenney, of Small World Adventures. "The situation in Banos
Return to is pretty grim, though. The Tungurahua volcano has been erupting regularly, but not
Table of Contents
explosively - a la Mt. St. Helens. Lots of lava flows, smoke and ash and the road from
the north (Quito) is closed, forcing folks to take a long route around."
- edb
Under the Lights at France's Rabioux Rodeo
This, of course, meant cramming 270 paddlers into the same day, spelling one
qualification run each to assure the 8 p.m. finals would begin on time under the lights.
The adjustment didn't affect fan support - with more than 3,000 spectators lining the
riverbank under floodlights to catch the action - or any of the event's staff, including a
video production team, live Internet operators, and a professional radio announcer.
"The difference between the Rabioux and other events isn't the site, but the
organization and infrastructure around it," says Corran Addison, who used the speedy
qualifier and brightly lit hole to take first place. Adds 1997 world rodeo champion Ken
Whiting: "Take the Gauley Festival, then put all its organizational efforts into a rodeo.
Then you have the beginnings of the Rabioux."
- Paul Villecourt
Striding Moves West
Those who think the unorthodox sport of striding (paddling an inflatable kayak while
standing up snowboard-style) is restricted to the East Coast antics of Jeff Snyder
obviously didn't attend last year's Canyon Creek downriver race in Oregon. Surprising
contestants at the start was Northwest paddler Colby Mackley, pulling a Snyder
imitation by striding. "Right now it's just me doing it out here," says Mackley, who grew
up paddling in Pennsylvania with the Snyders. "But people here are starting to catch
on - especially the snowboarders. Still, I don't think Jeff ever thought he'd see it cross
the Mississippi." Naturally, Mackley won his one-person division in the Canyon Creek
race hands - and feet - down.
- edb
Australian Invents Canoecycle
In Australia, where water and land are as intermixed as rugby players in a scrum,
necessity is often the mother of invention. That's why you'll find residents of Russell
Island pedaling - and even driving - canoes around, from terra firma straight into the
water and then back home to their respective garages.
The schizophrenia owes itself to inventor and canoe fishing guide Trever Wilkins, who
touts his new pedal-powered, amphibious canoes as the best thing since Vegemite.
"The latest prototype has a Canadian bow and retractable rear road wheels," says
Wilkins, a retired photojournalist. "The wheel rudder configuration works really well,
but I've yet to try it at high speeds. We'll have to wait and see how it handles that."
Wilkins has more in store as well, with a motorized version - a jet skier's worst
nightmare - also nearing completion. The cornerstones of his latest motorized creation
are retractable rear rudder wheels built, in part, from the fork of a 100-cc motorcycle; a
washing machine drive belt; a step-less gearbox; and the engine of a 20-cc leaf
blower. Another prototype in the works uses a two-stroke lawn mower engine with a jet
propulsion outboard leg. "The jet propulsion takes over," he says, "as soon as the rear
wheels retract on contact with the water."
The next step, he adds, is making the craft street legal with the addition of horns,
lights, indicators and seatbelts. And those items will likely be found where he procures
the rest of his parts. "Everyone who lives on the island has donated something to
make these canoes handle both water and land," he says. "And the boats are great -
especially for around here. I've spent a lifetime playing around with canoes and
reading everything in every library I could find. Yet, I've never seen a truly amphibious
canoe - or cycle - until now."
- edb
HOME
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River Flows
Connecting with Paddlers on www.acanet.org
ACA Director of Conservation and Public Policy
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
David Jenkins
Now that we've gone beyond the novelty phase of the Web, it's clear that this
technology is living up to its "information superhighway" billing. Web sites have
become a primary way people, including paddlers, find information and do business.
Although some have been using the Web extensively for several years, today a much
broader segment of the public has integrated the Web into their lives.
As proposed in the ACA Strategic Plan, the ACA is responding by making its Internet
presence the core of its communication and information plan for the next five years.
From now on, the ACA Web site will be a major information and service delivery
system for the association. Our goal is to maintain a dynamic Web presence that will
continually evolve to meet the needs of the nation's paddlers.
Fortunately, thanks to the new www.acanet.org Web site, this expanded Internet
presence has already begun. Members and other paddlers who go to this site will see
a new user-friendly design, and find many great new features being added to better
serve the nation's paddlers, including:
Online Forms - Instructors and event coordinators can now easily download the
paperwork they need such as waivers, registration forms, and report forms directly
from ACANET using Adobe Acrobat reader which can also be downloaded from the
site.
• Letter from the Editor Action Net - Destined to be the most innovative and comprehensive place on the Web
• Features for paddlers to learn about and act on conservation and other critical issues that affect
• River Runner paddling. Concerned paddlers can compose and send letters to elected
Supplement representatives and federal agencies directly from www.acanet.org. Never before has
• Eddylines helping protect the places you paddle been so easy.
• Hotline Online Registration - People can now register online for events such as the Subaru
• Letter from the ACA Outback Rendezvous series. Future plans are to integrate online registration into more
• Paddle Tales ACA activities.
• First Descents
• ECO More Information - By accessing www.acanet.org, paddlers of all disciplines and skill
levels will have access to more useful information ranging from tips for beginners to
• Destinations the latest weather and water level information.
• Gear
• Skills Linkshare Shopping - Through partnerships with REI and wide range of other retailers
• Different Strokes (such as Officemax, J Crew, Dell Computers, and Amazon.com), paddlers can take
• Flipside care of all their online shopping needs and at the same time be supporting the ACA.
When paddlers shop via www.acanet.org, 5 percent or more of the transaction amount
goes to support the ACA, at no extra cost to the consumer.
More from Beyond these new features, visitors to www.acanet.org will see improvements to
Letter from the traditional ACA Web features such as instruction schedules, event schedules, news,
ACA clubs, and program information. The site is also more visually appealing and designed
to load quickly. Visitors will also be able to reach the best of other paddling-related
Connecting with Paddlers sites via a wide offering of links. From ACA's site you can access Paddler magazine
on www.acanet.org online (www.paddlermagazine.com), manufacturer and retail sites, club sites, outfitter
sites, and other independent sites. The ACA is constantly creating new relationships
with partners in the paddlesports community who have an informative and enjoyable
Return to online presence.
Table of Contents
Once you visit www.acanet.org, we are convinced you will want to return. Still, we
realize that what we have developed is just the tip of the iceberg. There will always be
opportunities to expand and provide more information and services. We would love to
hear your ideas of how www.acanet.org can become even better. When you visit,
please feel free to e-mail us with your suggestions and/or criticisms.
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River Flows
A Shuttle to Remember - or Forget
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
Back in 1981 I was starting my fourth season as a river guide for Echo: The
Wilderness Co., based in Oakland, California. Our Easter weekend assignment was to
load equipment from the guide house in California and drive it to the warehouse in
Salmon, Idaho. From there we were headed to the Snake River for about a month of
river trips. It turned out to be a shuttle I'll never forget.
About halfway through loading the truck we had to move it, and were greeted by an
ugly sound when it started. After debating the severity of the problem, we decided to
take the other truck rather than risk breaking down in the middle of nowhere. The
decision wasn't easy because the second truck had a small (15-gal.) gas tank, a
broken gas gauge, and was stuck in the muddy parking area. We figured we could get
around the broken gas gauge by counting the miles. Getting the truck out of the mud
proved tougher - it wouldn't budge. Finally we got out some safety line, set up a Z-drag
and dragged it out. Then we unloaded the first truck, loaded the second truck and a
trailer, and hit the road.
Since we had no idea how much gas we had, we headed for the nearest gas station to
fill up. Turns out the locking gas cap wouldn't unlock. We tried WD-40 and jiggling, but
finally we had to break out the trusty old channel locks to pry it off. Then we borrowed
a replacement cap from the gas station and set out again. We made it out of California
and were headed through Reno at dark. Suddenly, blue lights in the rear view mirror.
The officer informed us that the trailer's tail lights weren't working, and we weren't to
continue through his state without said lights. Ah, Reno. A happening town on
Saturday night of Easter weekend, but maybe not the best place to try to find a
mechanic willing to fix the tail lights. We drove around town following leads like, "Well,
boys, head on down to the Gold Dust Saloon, just around the corner from the Last
Chance Casino, and ya' just might find a mechanic." We finally found one who was
just closing, but we convinced him to help us out with some pleading, cash and six
pack of Rainier ale. On the road again.
Counting miles and filling up at every opportunity worked pretty well until around
midnight, when we ran out of gas 30 miles shy of Winnamucca, Nevada. John
remembered seeing a gas station a couple miles back and volunteered to head back
down the highway, while I stayed with the gear. About an hour later a truck pulled up
and John jumped out with a gas can. Turns out the gas station was closed but he
found the owner in the bar next door and after a beer and a round or two of pool he
agreed to open his station and give John some gas and a ride back.
We pulled into Winnamucca around 1:30 am and looked for a motel room.
March/April Winnamucca had a lot of Easter visitors, but we finally found a place with a vacancy.
2000 As we drove through the parking lot looking for a spot, we came to a drive-through
marked "Clearance 10 feet 6 inches." We got out, looked at the stack of raft frames on
• Letter from the Editor
the truck, looked at the drive-through, looked back at the parking lot, then started
• Features laughing. There was no way back and no way under, so we ended the day the way we
• River Runner started - unloading then reloading the truck.
Supplement
• Eddylines The next day we crossed into Idaho, heading for Salmon via Lowman and Stanley.
• Hotline About 10 miles out of Lowman we heard some thumping and realized the trailer had a
• Letter from the ACA flat. We pulled over and began looking, finally realizing that there was no spare. We
• Paddle Tales should have checked before we left, but we assumed it had one. We unhitched the
trailer and I headed for town, this time leaving John behind. Lowman isn't big. It had
• First Descents only two gas stations, neither of which had 14-inch trailer tires. One station did have a
• ECO huge pile of old tires in the back, and I was welcome to dig through it. Somewhere
• Destinations deep in the pile I found one old trailer tire with exactly two treads left on it. Yahoo, I'll
• Gear take it.
• Skills
Murphy's law struck again as our shredded tire wouldn't come off the rim, no matter
• Different Strokes
what the station guys tried. Finally, they said we had to burn it off, leaving only the
• Flipside steel belts. These also proved stubborn, and needed to be cut off with a torch. Finally,
we put my prize tire on and were ready to go.
More from I'd been gone for several hours by then and a light rain had started to fall. When I got
Paddle Tales back to the trailer there was no sign of John. Finally the pile of life jackets started to
stir from where he had burrowed in to stay warm and out of the rain. By this time no
Wrong Way Tours story would shock him.
A Shuttle to Remember - A few hours later, warm, dry and relatively optimistic again, we came to the mountain
or Forget
pass between Lowman and Stanley. The pass was open, but there was snow
everywhere. With a whoop we were out of the truck and into the snow, expending our
stress in the form of snowballs. John snapped a few pics between snowball fights.
Return to
Table of Contents Piling back in the truck we headed down the road to Stanley. Of course, we had to fill
up with gas again, and I reached into my pocket for the Travelers Checks entrusted to
me, enough money for the whole month of raft trips. They weren't there. We searched
the truck, no luck. As panic set in, John said he remembered seeing something fall out
of my pocket back at the pass. We raced back and sure enough there they were right
in the middle of the road. Later, when John developed his film, one of the shots
showed a small gray packet of checks lying in the road next to where I was standing.
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River Flows
Sea Kayaking Venezuela's Rio Caroni
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA Story and photos by Ken McCarthy
The river cut its way between two mountains and had become a boulder sieve laced
with hundreds of Class V-VI rapids. We spent the last seven days scouting and
battling our way through the jungle, carrying our kayaks and 100 pounds of gear,
making less than a kilometer per day. It wasn't supposed to be like this yet. The hard
part wasn't supposed to come for another hundred miles.
Two years earlier I was flipping through an old issue of National Geographic and came
across an article, "Venezuela's Islands in Time," about a strange land in the country's
southeast corner, a vast tropical wilderness with table-topped mountains, rivers and
grasslands called sabana. We planned to start on the top of the region's highest
mountain and follow the Apoungua River into the Caroni and finally to its confluence
with the Orinoco. The logistics were difficult: we had to get two 14-foot Prijon Yukon
kayaks and hundreds of pounds of food and gear from our home in Utah, across the
country to Miami, on the airplane, through customs and then across Venezuela to the
put-in.
Before putting on we spent five days climbing 9,210-foot-high Mt. Roraima, leaving the
boats behind. At one point I wished we had them with us; rains swelled the Rio
Cuquen½n above its normal high, forcing us to search for a calm spot to cross. At
March/April six-feet-two, I was just able to wade with my backpack on my head. Jen, at 5' 4", had
to swim.
2000
• Letter from the Editor The first four days on the river went well, paddling along on calm waters, seeing
countless exotic birds and animals. Then we entered a mass of boulders and battled
• Features to make headway. On day 12 the river opened up. We had spent eight days going
• River Runner eight miles. Once free of the boulders we were able to make good time again,
Supplement
covering 18 to 25 miles a day. For several days I noticed a painful spot on my toe.
• Eddylines When we stopped that evening I broke out a knife and sat down to operate, sliding the
• Hotline blade along the side of my toenail. The end of my toe popped open and a bug and
• Letter from the ACA eggs oozed out - a burrowing sand flea.
• Paddle Tales
As we paddled along a quiet stretch of river we noticed a small group of dugout
• First Descents
canoes sliding along under overhanging branches. The people at the controls, Pemon
• ECO Indians, pulled out from under the trees and came out to meet us. The Pemon are
• Destinations indigenous here, living in family groups along the river. An old man in the front greeted
• Gear us and asked, in Spanish, where we were going. They had a hard time understanding
• Skills why we would be paddling our boats so far. The old man just shook his head slowly
• Different Strokes and said, "muchos saltos, muy peligroso" (many waterfalls, very dangerous).
• Flipside They were right, we were playing a
serious game. In this massive
wilderness a simple fall could be
More from deadly. Rescue was a long way off.
First Descents We would pass within a day's walk
of an airstrip on day 16, but most of
Sea Kayaking the time we were more then a week
Venezuela's Rio Caroni from help. Rapids we would think
nothing of back home suddenly
appeared very dangerous. By day 18
Return to
Table of Contents
the river had grown. We started on a
small creek flowing about 200 cfs,
but here the river was around 11,000, about the size of the Colorado through the
Grand Canyon in summer. According to the map, we had come to the crux. The river
steepens and becomes constant whitewater, then plunges 100 feet into a deep,
narrow gorge. The waterfall was called Salto Eutobarima. Below the falls it pooled
before rushing down the gorge, dropping 200 feet per mile. The entire gorge, six miles
long, would have to be portaged.
The river at this point makes a long bend to the south. By cutting across the top of the
"U" we could bypass the gorge and the worst of the whitewater. We set up a base
camp beside the river and started into the jungle, machete in hand. We figured it
would take us at least a week to cut a trail through the jungle and haul boats, paddles,
tents, food and all the other gear over the hill and back down to the river.
The Pemon have a saying, "It takes a strong spirit to live in the forest." They spend
much of their lives battling the jungle, trying to clear open space. They burn off the
grasslands so the jungle won't take it back. It's easy to travel in the thickest parts of
the forest because the upper canopy shuts out the light and little vegetation grows on
the floor. But where the sun comes through it is a mass of vegetation, impossible to
penetrate. Once, as I walked through the brush, something pierced me in the
shoulder, like a bee sting: a couple of hairy caterpillars, about two inches long with
one-inch-long spines.
Another day, while pulling the kayak though the brush, I saw a long, dark snake, a
Bushmaster, below a log we had just stepped over. There are at least four kinds of
poisonous snakes in this jungle. Some, like the Bushmaster, are deadly poisonous. A
book said to avoid them, stick to the trails. Unfortunately, that wasn't an option.
By the time we were back on the river we were ready to get out of the jungle. But it
was out of the frying pan and into the fire. For the next two days we ran some of the
biggest rapids I've ever seen, a number of which would rival Crystal and Lava in size
and difficulty. Many were so big and steep we had to carry around them or scout every
inch. There were no books or guides saying Class IV rapids for the next 10 miles. No
one had ever run them.
We carried our kayaks around one last waterfall and finally floated in flat water. We
were past the crux, now we just had to put in the miles. A lot of miles. We had been on
the river now for 26 days but we had covered less than half the 600 miles. We started
with what we hoped would be 30 days worth of food. So far we had done well, we
might even squeak out a few extra days on the food we had. We stopped at Indian
villages along the way and bought bananas, pineapples, sugar cane and casava, a
giant flat bread, not bad with peanut butter.
One flatwater day we saw a house boat floating on the river. As we drew closer we
heard the chug chug of a diesel engine. We knew there were supposed to be illegal
gold miners on the Caroni but we never expected them this far up river. Nervously, we
pulled alongside the wooden structure. They were just as surprised to see us. We
were tourists in a region that didn't have tourists. They invited us aboard and showed
us how the dredging operation worked. Over the next 10 days we came across over
25 such dredges whose operators were always friendly and happy to see us.
They told us of the town of Uriman, 100 miles down river, where we could buy
supplies. No roads went into Uriman; everything was either grown there or flown in.
When we arrived we each bought an ice-cold soda. We had been purifying and
drinking 80-degree river water for a month and a cold drink was a grand treat. The
food was very expensive but we bought enough to get us to the end if we could keep
moving full speed.
We encountered numerous rapids and falls each day but few posed any problem. If
they couldn't be run it was easy enough to portage. The miners always mentioned the
same rapid down river, Salto Babas, meaning Crocodile Falls. It was a beautiful
staircase drop with smooth curls of glassy water. It turned out to be another easy
portage. We felt we had overcome the final obstacle and only had a few more days of
paddling to reach the Guri Reservoir and our journey's end. Almost immediately,
however, we found ourselves in huge rapids again.
The hardest part was the fear of the unknown. What if it got worse farther down? What
if we couldn't get out? We had a week's worth of food left and about 100 miles to get
back to civilization. At 25 miles a day that would be no problem. But we had been
stopped by rapids and rocks for eight days upriver. We spent an emotional night in the
rain, listening to the roar of the rapids, questioning the wisdom of our decision to
undertake such an adventure. In the morning we got up and started the long process
of scouting, running and portaging. By mid-afternoon we had passed through the worst
of it and soon found ourselves happily spinning our paddles through glassy waters
once again.
The Venezuelan government built a dam on the Caroni, forming the eighth largest
man-made lake in the world, Guri Reservoir. Its turbines produce more electricity than
any other dam on earth. The reservoir is nearly 80 miles long and, in places, over 50
miles across. It's a virtual ocean. We had planned to hire a motor boat at a village
along the reservoir to carry us across the lake, but what we didn't know was that a few
years before, the dam had been raised and the high water had flooded all the villages.
There were no villages left.
While searching, we accidentally stumbled across the lake's only civilized outpost,
Jessie Parker's Peacock Bass Fishing Camp, an American-owned enterprise drawing
serious fisherman. Its owner, Steve, was as surprised to see us as the miners had
been. He had been here over 10 years and had never seen anyone approach by
paddle power. Two greenhorns from the desert paddle out of a no-mans-land and park
on his doorstep. He was so impressed he put us up for some rest and relaxation for a
couple days before motoring us across the reservoir.
On March 30, Easter Sunday, we paddled past the skyscrapers and huge,
ocean-going ships of Puerto Ordaz into the white muddy waters of the Orinoco, the
end of the Caroni and our journey. We had been out 42 days and had experienced
more thrills, fears, beauty and joy in that time than any two people can expect in a
lifetime. Now we are looking through baby books for our next adventure.
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River Flows
Gunnison River Receives New Protections
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
The park's creation will have little impact on portions of the river within its boundaries.
There, the Gunnison presents a series of Class V+ drops, with a 95-foot-per-mile
gradient that is unrunnable to all but expert kayakers. But downstream, the gorge
widens and flattens to a 14-mile Class III-IV run that is the heart of the new national
conservation area (NCA). Here, the new designations are likely to draw increased
attention to a river that currently sees only a few thousand annual visitors.
That attention is a two-edged sword. On the positive side, Paul Tickner, a Bureau of
Land Management (BLM) river ranger, notes that NCA designation conveys the
agency's highest level of protection, mandating that the area be managed for a
near-wilderness experience. In addition, Congress formally set aside 17,700 acres of
the river corridor itself as wilderness and prohibited mining and geothermal exploration
within the entire 57,800-acre NCA.
It would be ironic if that was lost due to land designations designed to protect the area
even further.
- Richard A. Lovett
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River Flows
Caving In
Sea Kayaking the 'Holes' of Santa Cruz Island
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
Chuck Graham
The cave is known as "Flatliner" and I immediately found out why: As the tide surged
inward, a swell picked me up and nearly pinned me to the jagged ceiling. I flattened
myself in my kayak and almost kissed the roof of the cave before dropping smoothly
back down. Farther back in the bowels of darkness was a cobblestone beach where
several harbor seals were relaxing on the damp rocks.
As well as harboring countless caves such as this one, Santa Cruz, the largest of the
Channel Islands archipelago, is home to a unique blend of plants and animals. Close
to the mainland yet worlds apart, the island takes you back to what California used to
be. On a clear day you can even see the Santa Ynez mountains hovering over the
coast. Endemic species like the island scrub jay and island fox live here and nowhere
else. The caves themselves are a haven for sea lions, harbor seals, western gulls, and
black oystercatchers, giving rise to the island's moniker as "the Galapagos Islands of
the North."
By the end of the day, I had been in and out of countless, twisting passages. Yet it
was only a fraction of the island's treasures. And as I waited for the boat to take me
back to the mainland, I knew I would return - just like the Chumash Indians - to an
island just 25 miles away from the coast, but worlds away in beauty.
- For more information about paddling trips to Santa Cruz Island, contact O.A.A.R.S.
(Outdoor and Aquatic Recreation Specialists) at (805) 642-2912; or the Channel
Islands Kayak Center at (805) 987-5995. For a ride out to the islands by boat, contact
Island Packers out of Ventura at (805) 642-1393.
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River Flows
We-no-nah's Rogue
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA Neil Rucker
If what’s true for rivers is true for boats, the folks at We-no-nah Canoe demonstrated
great insight when they named their new tandem whitewater playboat the Rogue.
Even I was taken in by the marketing ploy: “The Rogue, eh?” I said to myself. “Sounds
like a great boat.”
Still, I knew the proof would be in the paddling. So my friend Bill Cross (author of
Western Whitewater) and I hauled a Rogue down to the river (the Klamath, ironically)
to see if it lived up to its name. I had read the literature, and had some notion of the
company’s claims about the canoe.
The Rogue is a Dave Kruger design, and is very pleasant to look at—which is
important if you ascribe to the axiom that the first rule in all canoeing is to look good.
The Rogue’s eye-catching Royalex hull is 16 feet long, comfortably wide, with straight
sides and flared ends. The boat we paddled had ash thwarts, ash seats with nylon
webbing, and vinyl gunwales (other options are available). One thing that I especially
liked was the seat mounting. The seats are cleverly hung from the top edge of the hull
in such a way that no screw heads or finish washers interrupt the smooth top of the
gunwale. Very tidy and comfortable for the paddler.
The run we picked for our test drive has enough Class II-III rapids to test the boat’s
whitewater performance. First we paddled at moderate speed into a train of two- to
three-foot waves. We weren’t surprised to discover that the Rogue, with its
24.5-inch-deep bow, is exceptionally dry. We also drove the boat into every eddy we
could, and found that the Rogue turns nicely and remains steady in eddy catches and
peel-outs. Though the spec sheet says this boat has two and a half inches of rocker, it
March/April feels like more.
2000 There were no unpleasant surprises, and one very nice surprise—something they
• Letter from the Editor didn’t tell us about in the brochure. For a 16-foot, 66-lb. whitewater boat, the Rogue is
quick off the mark. Put the wood to the water and the Rogue moves out. Whitewater
• Features paddlers don’t talk much about speed, but we all know that there are times when
• River Runner acceleration is handy: the very important ferry, the sprint out to a good surfing wave,
Supplement
or the paddle across a long flat to the next rapid.
• Eddylines We didn’t have an opportunity to surf any big waves, but we did play on several small
• Hotline ones where the boat behaved well enough to make me think it would handle nicely on
• Letter from the ACA a larger one. Since we paddled on a windless day, we couldn’t judge how a headwind
• Paddle Tales wind would affect this high-profile boat, but I suspect the Rogue’s cruising ability would
• First Descents off-set any negative wind effects.
• ECO It’s exciting to see that We-no-nah, long a leader in competition and cruising boats, is
• Destinations introducing whitewater playboats. With the new Rogue, they’ve created a canoe that
• Gear lives up to its name.
• Skills
• Different Strokes —The Rogue is available in green or burgundy, and carries a suggested retail price of
$995. For more information, contact We-no-nah Canoe, P.O. Box 247, Winona, MN
• Flipside 55987; (507) 454-5430; www.wenonah.com.
—Neil Rucker, a long-time canoe instructor, operates Neil’s Canoe West out of Yreka,
Calif.
More from
Gear
The Lowdown on
Breakdowns
We-no-nah's Rogue
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River Flows
Paddle like a Pro
13 Tips to help learn the essential concepts of paddling an open
Bulletin Boards
canoe
Go to the ACA
Mark Molina
Have you ever seen instructors and competitors maneuver their boat with precision,
efficiency, and grace - all the while expending seemingly little effort? At the heart of
their technique are some basic concepts that can lead to more efficient and safer
paddling. This doesn't mean all great paddlers paddle alike. It does mean that efficient
paddlers share some common practices and are aware of important ideas related to
how boat, paddle and paddler come together to create precise boat movement with
minimum effort. Here are some of those essential concepts:
To make the canoe move, reach out in the direction you want it to go, plant the paddle
(think of it as landing in quick-drying cement) and move the boat (or better, your body)
toward the paddle. If you move the paddle to the boat, the paddle moves, the boat
doesn't. While seemingly simple, this way of thinking about strokes is critical to
efficiency.
Strokes can be dynamic, where the boat is pulled toward or pushed away from the
paddle placement; or they can be static, when the paddle is planted and held firmly in
place while the boat moves. Static strokes help you use momentum already gained
from dynamic strokes and/or the current.
Rotate your torso for more powerful, effective strokes. The large torso muscles are an
efficient source of power. Rotate by twisting at the waist. Lower body rotation can also
be an effective way to enhance control and comfort.
Forward and reverse power strokes should be executed as parallel to the centerline of
the canoe as possible.
Turning strokes, such as sweeps, stern draws and cross-bow draws, should be
March/April executed as far from the pivot point as is practical. Choke up on the paddle (move
your shaft hand toward your grip hand) to get the blade farther from the pivot point.
2000
• Letter from the Editor Start with a good grip
• Features Hold the paddle with hands slightly wider than shoulder width apart. Avoid holding the
• River Runner paddle at the throat.
Supplement
• Eddylines Protect your shoulders
• Hotline
Avoid shoulder dislocations and shoulder soreness by keeping your arms and hands
• Letter from the ACA
in front of the shoulder plane. Use torso and lower body rotation to help keep
• Paddle Tales shoulders safe. For reverse strokes, turn your shoulders and hips toward the side of
• First Descents the boat. Transverse kneeling makes it hard to get your hands behind the shoulder
• ECO plane, providing a safe and effective paddling position. Torso
• Destinations
• Gear and lower body rotation equals shoulder safety.
• Skills Your mother was right - use good posture Keep your upper body erect for comfort,
• Different Strokes visibility and bio-kinetic advantage.
• Flipside
Get vertical
For most strokes, keep the blade vertical to avoid pushing water down or lifting water.
More from Extending arms (having almost straight elbows) and pushing the control hand and grip
Skills out over the water will help maintain a vertical blade.
Paddle like a Pro Control blade angle
Tips from the field
Use efficient blade angle (pitch) to maximize efficiency and control. Remember: the
Get a Grip- orientation of the paddle grip reflects blade angle. If the grip is perpendicular to the
Habits for Boat Control
canoe's centerline, so is the blade. If the control thumb (the thumb on the grip hand) is
extended to point away from the shaft hand shoulder (as in a cross turning high
brace), the blade orientation will be open approximately 45 degrees in relation to the
Return to
centerline. Grip angle is parallel to blade angle.
Table of Contents
Stay on the level
In most modern solo canoes designed for quietwater, keep the canoe level to travel
straight . Some whitewater designs may track better when heeled to take advantage of
a sharp, angular chine.
Heel to turn
In most modern solo canoes, heel the canoe to increase rocker and facilitate turning.
Paddlers soloing a large tandem canoe may have to kneel in the onside chine and
maintain a heel to achieve an appropriate and efficient paddle position.
Use a variety of kneeling positions to shift body weight forward, aft and/or from side to
side in the canoe for enhanced performance, maneuvering and safety. Weight shifts
can help the boat do most of the work (photo 14), and using a variety of muscle
groups by altering your position can decrease fatigue and injury to one area.
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River Flows
Playboating Rules Supreme
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA Eric Voake
I'm not saying we should stop kayaking Class V - true die-hards will always explore
and paddle the hard stuff. But we need to stick to promoting fun, safe and easy
whitewater without glamorizing the extreme. When I hear kids who've only been
paddling a year or two claim they are going to go run a major Class V, it makes me
sick to my stomach. That can only lead to injury or worse and I don't want me or my
films to be the reason behind their decision.
Playboating is simply more realistic for most people, they can relate to it better than
running a 60-foot waterfall or traveling to Nepal. And people are naturally more afraid
of running big drops on an expedition than surfing a local wave. I'd rather see people
having fun on play runs than see them out on some remote creek - hurt, pinned and
broken. Most people don't care about first descents or how much an expedition kayak
weighs loaded down with gear. Besides, playboating is better for the industry. This is
where media coverage is and I want to see the sport grow. Sure, the rodeo scene
might get some people upset but it's just the beginning - give the circuit a couple years
and it'll be the best thing going. The sport is truly in its infancy. That's why when the
subject of kayaking comes up, you still hear things like, "What the hell is a kayak?"
Paddling needs a facelift and it begins with playboating.
March/April Playboating is also more fun. Had to say it. While I still enjoy a good creek run, I
always look forward to linking a couple more cartwheels on the Arkansas or Upper
2000 Gauley. New boat designs make it possible to do more moves than ever imagined -
• Letter from the Editor blunts, hammers, spinning on a green wave, flat-water cartwheels till your arms bleed
• Features - this kicks ass!
• River Runner Playboating is a lifestyle, bringing a fresh new image with it. Look at the Pimp and Ho
Supplement
Ball, the ultimate kayak party, it's about raging on and off the river. We are drawing
• Eddylines more interest from bigger magazines and television. Heroes are being created and
• Hotline kids are buying into it. Life is great. Look at the surfing or ski industry. It used to be
• Letter from the ACA filled with stuffy old guys who had no idea what was going on or what the people really
• Paddle Tales wanted - much like the kayak industry. Then the youth took over and they could do
• First Descents nothing about it because one day, all of a sudden, the kids owned it. Playboating rules.
You can only run so high a waterfall before it'll kill you - but I've never heard of anyone
• ECO
playing themself to death.
• Destinations
• Gear - Eric Voake is an owner of Loaded Gun Productions. He'd like to make a return
• Skills expedition to Peru.
• Different Strokes
• Flipside
More from
Different
Strokes
Rodeo, Schmodeo-
Exploration is Where It's
At
Playboating Rules
Supreme
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River Flows
From the Flip Side
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
March/April
2000
• Letter from the Editor
• Features As outlined in his will, Bob got
to keep the canoe.
• River Runner
Supplement
• Eddylines
• Hotline
• Letter from the ACA
• Paddle Tales
• First Descents
• ECO
• Destinations
• Gear
• Skills
• Different Strokes Arriving at the put-in a little early,
• Flipside Matt and Joe were thankful
for the signage.
More from
Flipside
From the Flip Side
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River Flows
Retracing Mackenzie
Slipping back 200 years in 2,000 miles
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
Peta Owens-Liston
Paddling in the wake of Mackenzie some 200 years later, Miller witnessed the same
"first sights" as Mackenzie and more than once felt the quiet presence of the past
lapping against the shores of the rivers they shared.
Miller successfully traced Mackenzie's paddle strokes from Fort McMurray in Alberta,
Canada, to the Beaufort Sea, part of the Arctic Ocean. Miller was far more gratified
March/April with his journey than Mackenzie, who was searching for a water route across Canada
2000 to the Pacific, not to the Arctic Ocean. Mackenzie's
• Letter from the Editor disappointment prompted him to name the river that finally deposited him into the sea,
• Features the River of Disappointment. Now named the Mackenzie River, this 1,300-mile
• River Runner waterway is the largest river in Canada, and the second largest in North America
Supplement behind the Mississippi. It took Mackenzie until 1793, four years later, to discover a
• Eddylines water route to the Pacific (11 years prior to the famed Lewis and Clark Expedition).
• Hotline
Miller began his journey in a 17-foot-long canoe, loaded down with 450 pounds of food
• Letter from the ACA
and gear. He would spend the next 200 miles on this river until it pooled into Lake
• Paddle Tales Athabasca. There, he branched off into the Slave River, following it 300 miles to Great
• First Descents Slave Lake, the fifth largest in the world. He skirted the south shore of the lake for 100
• ECO miles before veering off into the Mackenzie River. Some 1,300 miles later he was
• Destinations swept into the Beaufort Sea - part of the Arctic Ocean.
• Gear
The Ocean: Both Destination and Disappointment
• Skills
• Different Strokes The memory of the day Miller reached the ocean is indelibly etched into his mind. "I
• Flipside heard trumpets and harps and angels and the sun parted to shine down on me," says
Miller, who doesn't seem to care whether you believe it or not - because he does. "I
could feel the wind and the taste of salt water and see wide open space unenclosed
by land." After paddling for a month and a half, averaging 10- to 15-hour days,
More from
reaching the ocean was the pot of gold. "You go from day to day paddling and you
Features don't really feel like you're getting anywhere," he says. "But when I saw the ocean, I
Paddling with Pain knew I had done it."
Retracing Mackenzie For Mackenzie, reaching the ocean after nearly seven weeks of paddling was less
climactic. At first he thought, or hoped, it was a large lake. The taste of salt in the
water was subtle, as it is in northern oceans. Clouds curtained the horizon. It wasn't
Return to until the tide eased out that he realized it was the ocean, and then not the Pacific.
Table of Contents
At the delta, where some hundred channels flow into the Beaufort Sea, Mackenzie
suspected something was askew. "I am much at a loss here on how to act, being
certain that my going further in this direction will not answer the purpose of which the
voyage was intended," he wrote in his journal. "As it is evident that these waters must
empty themselves into the Northern Ocean." His crew would spend four days there
and then paddle back upstream - the route they had spent the past seven weeks
floating with the current - to their origination point. They would accomplish this in about
the same amount of time it took them to paddle downstream.
Miller put his oars to rest and explored the sea's coastline, including Kittigazuit, an
abandoned Eskimo village he'd heard about on route. The Arctic beaches felt haunted.
An old abandoned whaling station stood not far from a dilapidated Inuit cemetery.
Crumbling tombstones blended in with the tundra grass, and moss grew on scattered
bones. Because of the frozen tundra, the dead were buried under piles of driftwood,
which had decayed over the years. "The only sound was the wind and the bushes
rustling," says Miller. "I didn't touch anything."
Challenge in the Distance
Since Miller was a solo traveler, he had consciously chosen a route free of technically
challenging rivers. Rather, the challenge was in the distance. "In the beginning I
wouldn't let myself think about how far I had to paddle, because it would overwhelm
me," he says. No wonder - the distance he traveled is equivalent to paddling from
California to Maine. "I had to focus on the goal for each day. I kept saying just one
stroke at a time and I will get to the ocean."
Distance was the goal, but weather called the shots in how far Miller would travel each
day. "Wind could turn water from glass to 10- to 15-foot swells," he says. He planned
for 40-mile days, but it varied. One day Miller covered 80 miles and put the paddle to
bed at midnight. Another day, he crawled 25 miles in five hours into an unforgiving
headwind. The width of the rivers varied from four miles to 100 feet across. Even on
land, the wind ruled. "Waiting out one storm, I had 14 stakes pinning down my tent, all
my gear and me inside, and I still thought it was going to blow away or be ripped to
shreds - I knew if I got out of it, it would," he says.
The isolation Miller felt, however, was incomparable to that felt by the explorers. When
Miller stopped in native towns, he was a curious novelty - adults stared and children
ran up to take a closer look. The ancestors of these same natives may have seen
Mackenzie float by or watched him from a distance as he set up camp. Mackenzie was
the first white man they had seen, and many would run from him when he approached.
Mackenzie would notice footprints in the sand or see natives following him from a
distance. "The Indian that followed us yesterday arrived here some time before us. We
found but few people, we suppose that they hid themselves upon the news of our
approach," wrote Mackenzie at one stopping point. Aside from natives, Miller visited
with fellow paddlers and even got to know the crewmen of one of the 300-foot barges
that periodically use the waterway to bring supplies to the villages.
Miller recalls the stillness of the water at the confluence of these two rivers, and the
kind of quiet that surrounds contemplation. It wasn't until he got out of his canoe and
sunk up to his waist in mud that the delicate connection with this place's history was
broken. "If I had not had my boat there to help pull myself up, I'd probably still be
there," says Miller, who left his sandals encased in the quicksand-like mud.
Mackenzie may have grown suspicious as to whether he was heading in the right
direction at Camsell Bend, some 250 miles into the Mackenzie River. At this mountain
range, named after him, the river takes a sharp right angle, changing its direction from
west to north, in the direction of the Arctic Ocean. That night, Miller camped at an
island near the bend of the river, perhaps laying his sleeping bag down in the same
place Mackenzie sat and wrote in his journal about this unexpected turn in the river.
"Late at night, in the quiet, I listened hard and thought I heard paddle strokes," says
Miller.
In his journal, Mackenzie provides textured detail of the mountains. His script reveals
his leniency toward objective recording and concrete fact. He is more scientist than
dreamer. "There appears to be a number of white stones, which glisten when the rays
of the sun shine upon them. The Indians say they are Maneloe Aseniah (Spirit
Stones), but I think that must be talk."
The Ubiquity of Bears
Writing was Miller's mode of expression - rarely did he talk out loud, except to keep
bears at bay and once, to check his hearing. "One spot on the Mackenzie River was
the quietest place I have ever been," says Miller, who couldn't hear the rustle of wind,
the song and buzz of birds and mosquitoes, or the flapping of his tent cloth - nothing,
just silence. "I felt like I had lost my hearing. That's when I had to talk out loud to make
sure I could still hear."
A black bear encounter had Miller swearing, whistling and yelling. He had just set up
his tent and was bathing when he heard tree limbs breaking and snapping 100 feet
behind him. He threw stones in a colander and began shaking it to make noise, but
every time Miller stopped making noise, the bear would edge closer until a mere 50
feet separated them. While making noise, Miller was simultaneously ripping down his
tent and throwing gear into the canoe. His only weapon was mace, and his confidence
in its effectiveness wavered. Miller resorted to throwing a rock at the bear, and it
retreated. He threw the rest of his gear in his canoe and took off. "It was midnight and
I'd already paddled 15 hours that day, but there was no way I was staying at that
campsite." He paddled another hour to an island and set up camp.
Another bear encounter, of a different sort, was where the Great Bear River meets the
Mackenzie River. Mackenzie had camped here and climbed to the top of a 1,500-foot
mountain that resembles the shape of a bear, surrounded by three large red patches
of rock. An ageless legend tells of a bear that woke up from hibernation one spring
and was hungry. It wandered the edges of the river and caught and ate three beavers,
leaving the pelts - these are the three red patches of rock along the hillside.
Some legends come in the form of warnings. When Mackenzie approached The
Ramparts on the Mackenzie River, natives warned him of a serpent that lived where
the river narrowed from 2.5 miles wide to 100 yards wide. This area is lined with
spectacular, 150-foot limestone cliffs - so there are no beaches to make an escape
from a wily serpent. Mackenzie rolled his eyes at this prospect, but he did expect
some sort of danger in the form of whitewater in the narrow canyons. "The river
appeared quite shut up with high perpendicular white rocks. This did not at all please
us. We went ashore to try to visit the rapid, but there was no possibility of seeing
anything," Mackenzie wrote. Miller expected rough water too and prepared for it, only
to hardly meet a current. The only tricky part of the river was the illusion the cliff-lined
horizon created. The cliffs on each side of the river appeared to connect, making
Mackenzie think the river was coming to a dead end.
Sustenance on the River
Mackenzie's crew succumbed to voracious appetites as well. In one six-day period, his
crew ate two reindeer, four swans, 45 geese, one bird, and a "great many fish." "I
always found North men blessed with good appetites, but nothing equal to what ours
are and have been since we entered the river," he wrote. "I would have thought it
gluttonous in any men, did I not find that my own appetite has augmented in proportion
to theirs."
Gluttony on the river was nonexistent; feasting was simply the fuel for exertion.
Mackenzie commends his own men's stamina. "No men in the world are more
severely worked than these Canadian Voyagers," he wrote. "I have known them to
work in a canoe 24 hours out of 24 and to go at that rate during a fortnight or three
weeks without a day of rest or a diminution of labor."
Miller notes the same hardship. "Some nights, I would practically crawl into my tent
exhausted from paddling," he says, amazed that Mackenzie put in more than a dozen
100-mile days on the river. Aside from exhaustion, the two shared other discomforts,
including ravenous horse flies, sunburns and heat (Miller sometimes paddled at night
to avoid it).
As for equipment, the breadth and agility of Miller's canoe was a comfort Mackenzie
would have envied. The Sea Wind canoe is a one-of-a-kind solo expedition canoe
made by Verlen Kruger, who holds the record for distance paddling. The 55-pound
canoe is made from 12 layers of Kevlar, compared to the usual three. Miller knew he
would need a lightweight canoe, but one that was rugged enough to stand the test of a
long trip, and sturdy enough to hold all of his gear and supplies.
Navigating Through Smoking Hills
Sometimes danger was hidden by a smoke screen. Miller floated by more than seven
forest fires, presumably started by lightning. Sometimes the air was so thick with
smoke he could barely see the end of his boat. At one point, he used his compass to
find shore so he could follow the shoreline - the only time he used his compass on the
entire trip. One day a 300-foot barge plowed out of the smoke some 100 yards away.
If Miller had been in the middle of the river, he would have been in its path.
But the forest fires did make impressive light shows. One evening, Miller camped not
far from where a fire had raged; it was still crackling and smoldering. "I felt a bit absurd
lighting my own little fire and adding to the smoke," he says. In the night, he awoke to
newly fueled flames and watched trees fall as flames jumped 40 feet into the air.
Mackenzie did not record any fires, but he did smell and see the smoke rising from the
Smoking Hills where an exposed coal vein still burns. "We found a sulphurous smell
and upon our coming to the first sound, the whole bank was on fire for a considerable
distance," he wrote. The smoke was still rising when Miller floated by.
In the Wake of Self Discovery
Although Mackenzie and Miller paddled the same path, their reasons were far
different. Mackenzie's ambitions were to discover a waterway to the Pacific. He keenly
observed the external environment to help guide him on his journey. For Miller, the
journey was an inward one, paralleling the days he spent on the water. The more
distance and time put between him and the rush and demands of his daily life back
home, the more centered and emotionally at peace Miller became. "I gained
confidence in myself and it put me back into being myself," he says.
Solitude and self-reliance were integral to Miller's journey - elements he feels have
practically been swallowed up by society. They have gone from being an inevitable
part of life during Mackenzie's time to being almost nonexistant. "We need to escape
these shackles that have a hold of us," he stresses. "It's as if society is creating us,
instead of us creating the society we want to live in."
Breaking away solo for 2,000 miles and floating back into simpler times is one way to
escape these shackles. Miller wanted to regain the perspective that allows him to sit
back and eye the breakneck pace and clutter of life rushing by, but not be a part of it.
"I took the extreme in reclaiming my independence in order to come back and have
balance in my life." And when and if he ever begins to lose this perspective again, rest
assured he will once again follow someone back in time and match his pace with that
of the river.
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River Flows
The Skinny on Big Boats
A reminder from sweepers on the Snake that bigger is better
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
Matt Hansen
The landing came up way too fast and I was thankful I wasn't on the sweep,
responsible for stopping this huge thing we called a raft. We were in training, riding the
highest recorded water level the upper Snake River had ever seen - about 22,000 cfs.
Bill, our river boss, had us dragging the rubber beasts through trees, willows, mud and
snow, teaching us how to land a 33-foot boat in these difficult, early-season
conditions. As we approached the take-out near the southern end of Grand Teton
National Park, Bill yelled for the rear boatman, Mike - at this point the loneliest man in
the world - to get the raft's ass-end over and bump it against the overhanging trees to
slow us down. This sent the rest of us to the floor, covering our faces against an
onslaught of pine needles and branches. But not Mike. He stood there and took it,
branches and all, holding the landing rope in one hand and the sweep in the other.
The trees did little to slow us down, and as we passed them we saw the landing
occupied by three small rafts (small being mere 22-footers). Up on the bank were
about 20 tourists, gaping wide-eyed at the train-wreck-like spectacle unfolding before
them.
"Get out!" Bill yelled. "Jump! Land this *#*@#* boat!" And in Mike went, hopping
knee-deep into cold, fast water, stumbling up the bank with rope in hand to begin his
belay. The rest of us hung over the side, placing ourselves strategically between our
monstrosity and the other boats at the landing. We slammed forward and it took all
eight of us, three small rafts, and about 40 feet of shoreline to stop our boat. Mike,
meanwhile, in trying to belay the beast, had been pulled over and through the other
rafts, taking coolers, oars and life jackets with him. He came up scraped and bruised
but grinning from ear to ear. He'd stopped us.
This was 1996, my introduction to pontoon boats, or, as they're called in Jackson Hole,
simply "big boats." That same summer, Grand Teton National Park officials drafted the
Snake River Management Plan, outlining a program to end the 40-year history of big
boats on the Snake. The plan was developed because of increased river use, which
had caused launch areas to have boat and trailer jams, some of which led to
arguments or even fisticuffs among the more impatient river users. One of the
alternatives called for discontinuing any boats that required special hoisting systems.
In other words, the Park Service felt the big boats were taking up too much room at
the landing. Fortunately, that alternative wasn't chosen, and, according to park
officials, there are currently no plans to discontinue the use of big boats.
Like any watercraft, pontoon boats vary in size and weight, but on the Snake River,
March/April they're 33-feet-long, eight-feet wide and weigh almost 1,000 pounds. They are
2000 operated by two boatmen, one at each end, who use sweeps (rudders) to guide the
big pig downstream. Normally the boats carry about 20 commercial passengers but
• Letter from the Editor rumor has it that they've been secretly dispatched under full moons and have carried
• Features as many as 30, not counting dogs. But I wouldn't know anything about that. Normally
• River Runner sluggish, the boats cruise quickly in high water, drafting about 10 inches of current. In
Supplement
the wind they're a boatman's worst nightmare but for those who've worked and bled
• Eddylines with them, big boats represent the doorway to the glorious world of flowing waters.
• Hotline They represent the training field, being used as tools for the Grand Teton Lodge
• Letter from the ACA Company every spring since the mid-1950s to teach a half dozen men and women the
• Paddle Tales quiet yet powerful laws of the river.
• First Descents "You get better boatmen when you train them on the big boats," says Bill Guheen, the
• ECO aforementioned River Boss who's been breaking in recruits for nearly 30 years.
• Destinations "Because they're so big and awkward they force you to read the water to get the boat
• Gear down safely." Oar boats allow a boatman to be out of position, Guheen says, yet still
• Skills be able to pull quickly away from obstacles. But using a sweep on a 1,000-pound raft
• Different Strokes doesn't allow any forgiveness in positioning, forcing whoever is steering to be looking
one, two, sometimes three turns ahead.
• Flipside
Big boats first appeared in the 1950s on the Grand Canyon, after Georgie White
bought a bunch of them from military surplus stores. The military had used them as
More from bridge pontoons during World War II, turning them upside down to drive trucks across
River Runner them and sometimes filling the chambers with ping pong balls so they'd still float after
being shot. After the war these "bridge pontoons" were distributed to various outlets,
Supplement like the National Park Service, and the military stopped making them in 1962.
Some Like It Big
The Grand Teton Lodge Company and other Snake River outfitters used the boats
The Skinny on Big Boats almost exclusively until around 1970, when Frank Ewing and Dick Barker developed
River-Trip Planning
the Snake River Raft, a 22-foot-long oar boat that created a more efficient way to get
people to and from the river. At that time the outfitters in Jackson Hole ditched most of
A Reminder their big boats. Dave Demaree, owner of Friendsville, Md's Demaree Inflatable Boats -
Blackadar's Missing
one of the few manufacturers who still makes the boats - knows of only three rivers
Manuscript
where the rafts are still used: the Colorado River in the Grand Canyon and Cataract
Canyon, the Frazier River in British Columbia, and the Snake River in Jackson Hole.
Dinosaur Size Fees Of the three, the Snake is the only place where the boats are non-motorized, operated
Site Zed Chalkboard
only by sweeps. Selling only two to three boats per year, Demaree doesn't think the
M.I.A.
usage of the rafts has gone up or down. It's just that, with care, they last up to 25
years, he said.
Guide School 101
In the Grand Canyon the boats are bigger than those used on the Snake and are
Waiting List Woes
usually powered by motors. Diamond River Adventures has used the big boats since
1965. For them, the rafts are 35 feet in length, eight feet wide, and carry up to 14
passengers, two guides and about 6,000 pounds of cargo, enough to last the group for
Return to
Table of Contents eight days.
Leslie Diamond, co-owner and guide for the company, said some people perceive the
big boats as boring, figuring they won't have as much excitement on one as they might
on a smaller oar boat. "People think since they're so big they won't have a good ride,"
she says. "But you can go through bigger waves than you can with an oar boat. I just
love 'em."
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River Flows
River-Trip Planning
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA Eric Hermann
Even if you didn't score a permit for the Grand, early spring is often when the seeds of
many river trips are planted. Preparation is crucial, especially for multi-day trips, so for
those holding a permit prize, here's a few tips on the process.
The first step is enlisting a core of committed paddlers. Beginning trippers are often
naive about expressing keen interest then dropping out of a trip - very aggravating for
those who put it together. If the journey demands a certain skill level, be candid
enough to exclude paddlers with questionable skills. A trial run on similar water can
also weed out potential rescue cases.
Learn all you can about the river. This is half the fun, because it allows you to visually
float the stretch months in advance, mentally basking in canyon sunshine while the
snow falls outside your window. Solid information is the most vital asset to bring. Learn
all you can about the route: Where are its challenges, its best campsites? Where are
its wilder, more scenic stretches that entice you to go slowly? Check various
appraisals of the river's difficulty, focusing on the time you plan to run it.
Budgeting time is always partly guesswork with variables of current, weather, portages
and such, but ten miles a day is an easy average for casual trips. The first day, after
shuttles and packing, is usually low-mileage - a shake-down cruise. If the trip can be
done in two days, plan at least three or four. Layovers for hikes, lazy mornings and
gear-drying are wonderful.
Detailed maps, especially the mile-by-mile charts in guidebooks, are an absolute must.
Study several, including maps of the access roads to help you plan time for travel and
shuttles. When I find a good map, I mark mileage along the river, write marginal notes
from guidebooks about logistics, then photocopy and laminate a map for each boat.
The mileages allow suggestions like "Let's stop for lunch at mile 24."
Learn the regulations. Some may dictate where and when you can camp, whether you
need to use a portable toilet or fire pan, and whether you need to carry out your ashes.
Compile a good equipment list and get together for this and other planning
discussions. Agree on an expense plan: Some groups have a member collect sales
slips, tally the total and equalize the expenses. Other groups just figure that differing
expenses average out in the long run. Figure who will bring what group items. For
example, not everyone needs to bring a tent and a stove. Good planning begins with
good information, good contact people, good maps and plenty of discussion. Keep it
fun and keep your mistakes the laughable kind.
March/April
2000
• Letter from the Editor
• Features
• River Runner
Supplement
• Eddylines
• Hotline
• Letter from the ACA
• Paddle Tales
• First Descents
• ECO
• Destinations
• Gear
• Skills
• Different Strokes
• Flipside
More from
River Runner
Supplement
Some Like It Big
River-Trip Planning
A Reminder
Blackadar's Missing
Manuscript
Return to
Table of Contents
HOME
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River Flows
A Reminder
inuendos
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
Doug Ammons
A ritual toast to the rivers of the world, "Here's to life!" I shout, and drink deep from the
icy clean water, mixed from the melting of a hundred winter snows on the Divide.
Every river I pass - the Lochsa, South Fork of the Clearwater, Salmon and Little
Salmon - is pumping and high, with swells and waves rushing past. Three hours later I
whip down past the Cascade Reservoir, look over and see that the release pipes are
going full bore. The overflow channel is a solid flume of white shooting hundreds of
feet through the air. Below, the riverbed is flooded. And then I know for sure - the
North Fork's going to be good.
There's a limit to the bridles you can put on a river like this, and in the spring when the
snow starts melting, there isn't much the Bureau of Reclamation can do at the
Cascade Dam except open the floodgates and pray. Even at normal levels on the
North Fork there are plenty of lost or ruined boats, boats wrapped around boulders,
paddles destroyed. There have also been countless injuries - including deep bone
bruises, teeth knocked loose, stitches, and dislocated shoulders - and several deaths.
There probably would be more carnage except that when the water gets up, the river
March/April looks so mean nobody wants to tangle with it. To some of us, however, there is beauty
2000 in its power, rolling wild and free.
• Letter from the Editor I soon meet up with my friend Greg to make a run. Greg's a good man, a reporter,
• Features writer, cabinet maker, a thoughtful guy who likes a challenge, whether it's shaping a
• River Runner block of wood for a table, or taking on a wild thing of a river. Greg and I have run the
Supplement
river together lots of times over the years, but if it's Class V at the normal flows, at
• Eddylines 6,000 cubic feet a second you have to start scratching your head. Is it Class VI? Class
• Hotline VII? Class VIII? Who knows? The numbers don't matter anymore at this level. It's solid
• Letter from the ACA romping water, moving upwards of 35 miles per hour. But there's a problem with this
• Paddle Tales river. It's Class V at any level. And once you've been on it when the water gets up, you
have to redefine Class V. Normal flows and definitions just don't cut it anymore.
• First Descents
• ECO We put on at the top and paddle downstream, rounding the corners into Steepness,
• Destinations the first rapid. How to describe it? Close your eyes and feel the thing. It explodes,
• Gear writhes underneath you, thrashing and punching at you. When you start out, your
• Skills reflexes are always behind because everything's happening twice as fast as anything
• Different Strokes you've ever seen. It's like playing your kid's video game with the 3-D images and the
motorcycle that goes 150 mph. The world whizzes by at breakneck speed, you hit a
• Flipside ramp and launch 200 feet into the air, hurtling through space and then ripping through
the top of a palm tree. Only the North Fork is real. The tree isn't some fake
soft-fronded palm, it's a 60-foot-long, anvil-hard Ponderosa blocking a corner as you
More from pound straight toward the thing.
River Runner
When you head into a huge rapid, there's a sense of disbelief. If it's a big rapid, the
Supplement river drops off the face of the earth - all you see is a horizon line of humped-up dark
Some Like It Big water. You feel like you're revving your car straight for the edge of a cliff. You come up
on it blindly and the whole rapid is somewhere on the other side, unseen. All the
The Skinny on Big Boats power of the world seethes beneath you. You feel it welling up and accelerating,
River-Trip Planning pulling at you like a bronc in the stall, muscles tensing, ready for the gate to open.
A Reminder The bronc's will is to break away, to fight every barrier and kick and snort and go like a
Blackadar's Missing
hellion any way it can. A bad bronc might have some bad attitude toward you; he
Manuscript
might feel those spurs and set you up. But this bronc is liquid and weighs thousands of
tons and doesn't think and doesn't care. So you hang on the expectancy as you
Dinosaur Size Fees paddle toward that horizon line. Then, you slip over it - the bronc's cut loose and
Site Zed Chalkboard
you're out of the gate. People think all that power means you have to be aggressive
M.I.A.
and attack, but that's not so. The water is the vessel of all opposites, hard but supple,
complex and simple, and you can never forget that. You sometimes get carried away
Guide School 101 by the excitement, but you have to watch each reminder. It takes a clear head and
Waiting List Woes
calm nerves to run a river like this, you can't fight it or oppose its force. All that chaos
has to be worked with smoothly, matching everything you do to the mood of the water.
If you do it right you'll become a part of Nature's flow. And there's never any malice in
Return to
the water's action. It just is, and it can't be anything different. If you find yourself
Table of Contents wishing it was something different, then that just means you have more to learn.
We run down through Nutcracker, Disneyland, Double S-Turn and Slide, one after the
other into the meat of the run. Huge geysering drops that never stop, they just go and
go, merging into one another. It's manic, like a roller coaster cruising down a broken,
mangled railway - one endless, massive derailment, pounding and shaking the ground
as you scout along the bank for most of a mile before eventually saying, "I know the
line." Then you get in and become part of all that pounding and shaking. It's our
element and we're on, rapid after rapid - Bad Jose, No Where to Run, Bouncer, Down
the Middle.
Then we come to Jacob's Ladder, a long gradual left turn, one of the narrowest and
steepest parts of the river - and the most intimidating. At 6,000 cfs, the water funnels
into a flume and when it hits the first ledges, it humps up into exploding waves that
break violently across the river, up into the boulders on the bank. Miss the move, and
you'll be surfed up into the rocks and ripped apart. The word is, just don't miss that
move! Then it drives down a straightaway to slam into a river-wide hole 10 feet high. If
you get through that, it lunges down another huge drop and slams into this Thing. You
could sort-of call this Thing a hole, but it looks like the water's gushing out of the earth
itself in a huge mounding pile the size of an 18-wheeler. Then, you have a half mile of
Golf Course, winding, exploding, huge with 12-foot-deep holes and logs along the
side. Enjoy.
We stand at the bottom of Jacob's and scout. "So, what would you call this,
Professor?" I ask Greg.
Greg rubs his neatly trimmed beard and hmmms and then hmmms some more. Finally
he says, "It's Class VI-plus. The limit of controlled navigability." A pause and another
hmmm. "I guess it might be possible to wash through something harder and still be
alive, but..." He lets the sentence dangle in the air because there isn't much point in
finishing it. Then he adds, "I'm not trying it." He waves toward the end of Golf Course,
a long, long way downstream. "I'm putting in at the bottom."
Kayaking is "free soloing," like climbing without a rope. You push out into the current
and deal with what's there, come what may. There's this great purity because it's
always just a one-shot deal. You get one chance only and you have to lay your best
shot on the line. In water like this, it's everything you've got. So all the thinking and
pondering has to come before, all the considering of safety and lines and weighing
and assessing the moves. You have to answer the question, "Can I do it?" If you say
yes, you pull into the current and deal.
I do so. Down the lead-in to Jacob's, cutting through the breaking waves and driving
straight into the close-out hole. As I hit, I flatten myself on the deck with paddle
feathered out so it doesn't get ripped out of my hand, and I submarine through. A quick
spin back to the left and the river gives me a straight flush into the Thing. It's towering
over my head and thwwuuup, I'm into the center of it - all froth and deep, deep, deep
until I erupt out the backside, then, spinning and cutting and rodeoing through Golf
Course. It comes and comes and I twist and move with the coiling water. My boat gets
shot completely into the air, punching through endless exploding waves and holes.
A long way down, after 80 seconds of bizarre dealing, I pull into the eddy where Greg
is, panting with muscles screaming for rest. I bob there, breathing heavily and hanging
onto the branch of a tree that has toppled over into the water. Greg looks upstream,
then back at me. "Commendable paddling," he says.
We still have another six miles out of 15, but we both know we're through the worst.
Everything's gone smoothly - even at this monstrous water level - and I let down a
notch. Another mile downstream, we eddy out at the top of Jaws. It's a long rapid, the
river flushing back and forth for turn after turn, piling against the rock walls on one
side, and boulders and ledges on the other. We get through unscathed. One big rapid
left, and then we're off to the lower five miles and big-time water right to the take out.
Greg smiles, gives a little nod, and peels out of the eddy. I wait a few seconds - not
long enough - and paddle into the rapid 30 yards behind him.
Suddenly, we're hurling along as fast as a runaway car down a steep mountain,
bouncing and slamming and jumping. Huge waves launch up before me. Whoosh!
Over the top, the explosion at the crest kicks me out of the air and I balance and fly.
For an instant I can see far down the river, then the water shudders with a huge twist
and a surge shoves me one way, then lurches up, grabs and rips at the paddle. Greg's
far ahead, popping up, then gone. Then I'm up at the top of another wave and Greg
pops up, his boat skipping away to the right. I hunker down and brace because I know
I'm about to hit a big hole. I crest the wave and there it is, an erupting white wall. It's all
reflex. I get small, with my head on the deck and the paddle feathered into the hole,
shoulders hunched so they won't dislocate. I dive into the thing and it bucks me wildly.
Like Greg, I'm shot, skipping far right by a manic, driving power.
It's wonderful and we're cooking. Then suddenly I'm right on Greg's tail, and shocked
we're so close. Jesus! Get away, I think, or he'll hit a hole and my boat will break him
in half. A split second decision. I spin the boat and try to put some distance between
us. Little thoughts fly through my mind: Get away, get away...spin and move away. But
the river takes anything you give it and hammers you over the head. A wave catches
and throws me, kayak and all, 15 feet through the air to the side. I land upside-down
and the water's all rushing bubbles, gushing into my face and tearing at the paddle.
We still have another long corner before the crux - but anywhere in here I could slam a
rock and get knocked out. Get up! A quick sweep of my paddle, and I'm upright and
moving. Then, damn, Greg shoots upward out of a hole right across my path. If I come
down on him when he's caught, I'll either kill him with my boat, or he'll kill me.
I backpaddle again, trying to get away, but the river is pounding around the corner
above the crux. We have to get right - the whole left side plunges over a big ledge into
this nasty, bullshit place we call Dome Hole, one of the ugliest holes on the river. I spin
right and start making my move, but out of nowhere Greg shoots in front of me again
and I'm backpaddling to get away. Another wave explodes underneath me and I'm
airborne, flying upside-down way to the left. I land head down, start rolling, then I'm
crushed into a rock.
Stars explode in front of my eyes and a huge, sharp, cracking pain explodes in my
head and shoulder and back as my body crumples around the rock, narrow and sharp
on the front, cutting the water apart like the prow of a ship. For an instant, I can feel
the water smashing me against it. The pain's overwhelming and my head fills with
lights and then I wash free upside-down, stunned and seeing stars with a sharp,
metallic taste in my mouth.
I'm hurt bad, and I know it. The water's wash-boarding across a shelf of boulders,
slamming every one. Greg's over to the right, and I'm way left and hurt and I know
Dome Hole is just downstream. My mind screams, "It's shallow, shallow, shallow!
You'll hit again. Get up!" I roll with pain piercing through my neck, shoulder and back,
and I just get upright as my knuckles rip across another boulder, tearing the skin off
my hand. I look down at the blood sprouting bright red from the knuckles and bone but
I don't have time for any of that. No time, no time, get back right.
The river turns sharply right and the water drives high up onto the left bank, waves
breaking back onto me so I can't turn. I have 40 yards, a couple seconds to move
right. I sweep hard to spin the boat. There's a sharp grating of bone-on-bone and I
gasp as a lightning bolt of pain stabs through my neck. I sweep again and there's
another bright flash and a wave of nausea as the bones scrape across each other. A
little voice says, "Broke your collarbone in half..." The thought is there but it's just
another of millions that don't matter in a world rushing by faster than I can reel in.
The water doesn't stop, it never stops, and I'm washing away and my head's ringing
and I'm fighting to stay upright, but the boat's slipping over the washboard rocks,
skipping and ricocheting, and my head and shoulder and back are white-hot pain. The
Dome Hole. It's just downstream. I know it's there, and I'm calm, but I know the whole
river is carrying me right at it.
The metallic taste fills my mouth and I sweep a third time to another explosion of pain.
I'm not mad, frustrated, or scared. I'm just thinking, "Make the move." But the water is
flushing me left, and I'm bearing down on the corner. Suddenly, I know I can't make it.
I glance and see a big curling wave on the ramp above Dome Hole and know I have
one chance to take a stroke and catch the wave enough to surf it back to the right,
away from the gut of the hole. I've got maybe a second watching it coming and setting
my backstroke, then I'm swept up on the wave and it breaks down on me and I stroke
and - nothing happens. My right arm doesn't work, it's paralyzed. I'm willing it to work,
but my torso screams back at me with another explosion of pain. Time freezes, then
the curling wave lifts me up, spins the boat effortlessly, and flushes me backwards
down the ramp into the biggest hole on the river. I'm calm, looking up into the blue sky
and thinking, "I'm in for it now."
I hit the bottom, and the water drives me down and the
river cartwheels the boat end-for-end like a kid's toy. I feel
the boat airborne and I twist it, cranking my body to the
left as the boat flies out and twists upright. For an instant
I'm balanced. Then I'm sucked back down into the gut of
the thing and can feel it driving me deep, and then the
boat surges out of the water, rising and airborne in
another cartwheel and I hang my weight back and twist
and drive the boat with my knees as it flips through the
air. I land high on the backwash. I can feel I'm way high
up near the balance point on the crest and I know this is
my only chance. I dig my paddle deep into the bursting
water and pull. I pull and pull with my bad arm as the hole
yanks and rips my paddle and the pain explodes in lights
flashing through my body. Waves of nausea flush through
me like the water, and my arm and back are locked up
and I can't move them but I keep pulling with everything I
have. And then I wash free. My balance is almost gone, I'm fighting to stay upright,
spots dancing in front of me, nausea pulsing. My whole right side has seized up. That
grating bone pain pierces deep inside me, and I'm thinking, "You have to get out of
here or you're dead."
Another 150 yards, around the next corner, there's an eddy, and it's the only chance
I've got. I can hardly keep from flipping, muscles seizing and refusing to work, my
body's gone rigid. The bright piercing pain is everywhere now. I can't move my paddle
on my right and so I lock my arm down against the deck and brace left and get hit
again and again down through the last big holes and breaking waves of the rapid,
totally at the mercy of the water, trying to stay upright because I know I can't roll if I go
under again.
If I wash past the eddy I've had it. There's another big rapid below that's a half-mile
long and I can't do it, I can't swim in this shit. I round the corner turning toward the
eddy, but the current spins me as I hit the eddywall, shoving me back out into the river.
I'm swept downstream. Exhausted, muscles locked up, panting, I concentrate and lean
on my left blade, weakly sculling and trying to time my turn. I finally get the right angle
and wash into the end of the eddy. The water sloshes back and forth like it's in a huge
tank, and I scull and spin to the bank and grab onto a rock with my left hand. I sit there
fighting to stay conscious, concentrating on a piece of driftwood in the water as the
spots and nausea and the whole world grows and fades in pulses.
Greg pulls into the eddy. "What a rapid!" he yells out. He's half laughing, amazed at
how wild it was. He hadn't even seen what happened to me because he'd been too
busy dealing with his own epic. Then he notices I'm bent over. "Are you okay?"
"Broke my collarbone, I think. Can't move." He quickly gets out of his boat and stands
in the water holding onto me. Dazed and nearly paralyzed, I keep concentrating on
that little piece of driftwood in front of me, flipping and washed back and forth by the
waves. Greg helps me out of my boat. We cut off my drytop and flag down a truck on
the highway. A few hours later at the hospital they poke me and make their CAT scans
and X-rays and shoot me full of Demerol. They find a dislocated collarbone, separated
shoulder, ripped cartilage along my ribs and down my sternum, badly bruised shoulder
blade, and torn muscles from my neck to my shoulder and all down my back. The river
stomped me. But I made the eddy.
That was six years ago, I've been back since and paddled the river many times. I'm as
recovered as I'll ever be, and it's good enough I guess. My collarbone still pops and
snaps, the shoulder still hurts. When I get tired, the muscles in my neck lock up. But
you take your lumps and try to come away the wiser for it. Six inches to the right and I
would have caught the entire force of the rock on my helmet, been knocked
unconscious and drowned. Six inches to the left and I would have taken the hit on my
lifejacket. Life sometimes hangs on the details. Make of that what you want.
I was on the water late that fall, three months after the accident with a group of friends.
I wasn't healed, but the water was low and not nearly as difficult. It was a great Indian
summer day and I love paddling and I love that river, even if it almost killed me. As we
got to Jaws, we eddied out and one of my buddies said, "Where's that rock? Show us
that damn rock and let's dynamite the thing!" I laughed and let them go ahead, this
time with plenty of room. I hung back thinking about that day, still sharp in my mind
and the pain in my shoulder. I ran the rapid cautiously, well behind the others, making
moves cleanly and trying to find the same boulder.
I eddied out right above it - a car-sized rock. I tried to imagine what I must have looked
like there, pinned on its front with five times as much water bearing down, crushing
me, breaking me. I remembered the sharp, bright pain, and closed my eyes with
everything vivid in my mind. After a few minutes I pulled out into the current wondering
if I should hit the thing. But as the river washed me by I reached out my hand and ran
it over the boulder for an instant and said, "Thanks for reminding me."
HOME
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River Flows
Blackadar's Missing Manuscript
A Few Words on Cold, Early-Season Boating
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
Walt Blackadar
- Editor's Note: This article was unearthed in Idaho by the late Walt Blackadar's son,
Bob, who passed it on to Paddler for publication. For an account of Blackadar's life,
check out Never Turn Back, the Life of Whitewater Pioneer Walt Blackadar, available
from author Ron Watters at 800-585-6857.
I'm at a loss to explain why anyone would want to dip a paddle into icy water - it's so
much more fun to glide the skis for another month and wait for the chunks to melt.
Also, if you like whitewater as much as I do, early Idaho paddling is drab, with the
water low and rapids smaller than last September when you left them for the winter.
Furthermore, Mexico is crying for adventure and exploration, as is the Southwest, with
their best water of the year in March - check out the upper Rio Grande, the Salt or the
Grand Canyon - the ultimate lower 48 kayaking.
However, if you're itching for a bit of difficult water up North and can't wait for summer,
know that certain pitfalls await you. The danger you face is insidious and deadly. It's a
warm day, the air is 70 degrees, and you've dreamed of paddling that short stretch of
"Never Run Gorge" all winter. You forget that your boating skills have become rusty
and that you haven't rolled in six long months. Believe me, this is no time to tackle the
challenges of your boating career. Confine early-season jaunts to easy runs and try
the real hard stuff only after relearning all those skills and doing them instinctively
again.
Even then, there are perils to early boating that must be respected, even if you're a
no-swim kayaker who always rolls. The skydiver who never takes a spare chute will
soon learn the truth of the saying, "nothing is certain." I seldom swim but I always
make sure I'm prepared for one anyway. I remember a Navy truism: "an unprotected
body encased in ice water does not survive more than a few minutes." One's will to
struggle diminishes quickly in cold water and soon one's desire to live ceases
altogether.
Dry suits and wetsuits should be the basis of our cold-water boating attire, though be
aware that dry suit tops can sometimes fill with water and leave the feet encased in
air, leading to a bottoms-up situation - not especially conducive to survival. Wetsuits,
on the other hand, fit snug to one's body. Many articles tell how quickly the water
warms inside a wetsuit's neoprene, but the water doesn't warm, it just doesn't get
colder, and life is possible in spite of the cold. The wetsuit, in essence, allows for a
frigid survival to continue indefinitely.
March/April When the water is between 33 and 50 degrees, I wear a neoprene wetsuit covering
2000 my entire body except for feet, head and hands. I cover these appendages depending
on air temperature, for I know enough of my body is protected to survive an extensive
• Letter from the Editor swim. When water is above 50 degrees, I generally use one-eighth inch neoprene and
• Features cover the trunk only and not my extremities. Few boaters use thicker neoprene except
• River Runner for booties because a one-quarter inch wetsuit gets too hot and paddling is restricted.
Supplement As we transfer our boats to whitewater rapids filled with ice cubes and slush ice, we
• Eddylines tend to rely on the buoyancy of a wetsuit for salvation. This is a grievous error. One's
• Hotline life jacket is needed even more in cold water for we need all the help we can get. I use
• Letter from the ACA my biggest life jacket in the coldest water, when my skills are the most sluggish.
• Paddle Tales In summary, when you get the urge to visit your river early in the year, take your
• First Descents cross-country skis instead of your boat and tour along the bank safely. When the ice is
• ECO gone and you take your boat out for the first time of the season, screw your head on
• Destinations securely and use the safety measures I have outlined.
• Gear
• Skills
• Different Strokes
• Flipside
More from
River Runner
Supplement
Some Like It Big
River-Trip Planning
A Reminder
Blackadar's Missing
Manuscript
Return to
Table of Contents
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River Flows
Dinosaur Size Fees
Proposed for Green and Yampa
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
Permit holders for the Green River in Colorado's Dinosaur National Monument might
soon need to part with more green for their trips.
The Monument is proposing a 100 percent increase in fees for boaters floating on the
Green and Yampa rivers over the next two years. This year the one-day and multi-day
per trip fees are $20 and $125, respectively. In 2001 the National Park Service is
proposing these fees rise to $30 and $195. In 2002 the fees would rise to $40 for a
one-day permit and $250 for a multi-day permit. Beyond this wallop to their wallets,
private paddlers are crying foul about the grounds on which Dinosaur is basing its
proposal. The staff at Dinosaur claim the river-use permit constitutes a Special Use
Permit and that the agency is required to fully recover the cost of administering river
use. Special Use Permits are typically required only for those using public lands for
some type of commercial activity; not for members of the general public who are
merely accessing a public resource for recreation. Currently, river users are the only
non-commercial visitors at Dinosaur who are considered a "Special Use."
- dj
March/April
2000
• Letter from the Editor
• Features
• River Runner
Supplement
• Eddylines
• Hotline
• Letter from the ACA
• Paddle Tales
• First Descents
• ECO
• Destinations
• Gear
• Skills
• Different Strokes
• Flipside
More from
River Runner
Supplement
Some Like It Big
River-Trip Planning
A Reminder
Blackadar's Missing
Manuscript
Return to
Table of Contents
HOME
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River Flows
Site Zed Chalkboard M.I.A.
Historical River Running Document Can't Be Found
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
"Site Zed" sounds like a military zone, or some secret government out-in-the-desert
type place where Martians land and we never get to hear about it. But to the three
dozen or so boaters who've reached Site Zed on British Columbia's Grand Canyon of
the Stikine, the name signifies a milestone, a place to camp, and a chalkboard.
"I'm sure I took the last picture of the board," says Aaron Pruzan, who ran the Stikine
in September of 1996 with Joe Larrow. "The Park Service tore the buildings down the
week after we were there and it's kind of a mystery now where it is."
The chalkboard in question hung in a small abandoned building about 16 miles down
from the put-in. Signing your name on it became one of the rites of passage for the
proud few who'd been there.
"It's basically the first place to camp," says Rob Lesser, whose name appears on the
board four times, and who ran the Stikine again in 1998, after the buildings had been
removed. "We definitely made an effort to find the board when we were there in '98,
but they did a good job of cleaning up and there isn't much there. They told us they
were pretty diligent about looking for it, but it hasn't turned up."
Lesser says the building site was pretty active in 1981, when he and four others made
the first attempt. "There were probably 25 men living there and working for B.C.
Hydro," he says. "They had a commissary, barracks, everything. Now it's pretty much
back to its natural state."
Pruzan says Site Zed was welcomed for more than a place to camp. "About a mile or
so upriver you start seeing all these markings on the wall where they were going to
build a dam," he says. "And then you get there, and you're scared from the first day on
the river, and you see all these familiar names on this chalkboard and it's sort of
comforting."
Lesser says there may be some pressure to find the missing chalkboard after a movie
on the Stikine is released this summer. "You don't have too many historic documents
up there to begin with," he says. "And even though this history is fairly recent, it is still
significant."
- tb
March/April
2000
• Letter from the Editor
• Features
• River Runner
Supplement
• Eddylines
• Hotline
• Letter from the ACA
• Paddle Tales
• First Descents
• ECO
• Destinations
• Gear
• Skills
• Different Strokes
• Flipside
More from
River Runner
Supplement
Some Like It Big
River-Trip Planning
A Reminder
Blackadar's Missing
Manuscript
Return to
Table of Contents
HOME
TOP © Paddler Magazine, 2000
Current Issue
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River Flows
Guide School 101
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA Paul McHugh
High in the Sierra Nevadas, mountain passes like Donner (7,135'), Carson (8,573')
and Ebbetts (8,730') have trees scarred with rope burns. Here, trunks were used as
winching points by pioneers working battered wagons up over the crest.
Nowadays, folks whisk vehicles over these paved passes at a brisk 60 mph.
Meanwhile, down in the Sierran river canyons, that mostly vanished tradition of licking
physical hazards with hard work, gumption, bumptious energy and honed technique
still endures...in whitewater guide schools.
Whenever someone states that a pioneer era molded America's psyche, a footnote
should swiftly follow, acknowledging that whitewater schools are one of the last places
where that spirit is nurtured in anything like its original form. It certainly seems so to
me on the North Fork Stanislaus River, where eight self-bailing rafts and 40 people are
gathered at the brink of a Class V rapid. Thundering foam churns past steep, rocky
banks still clotted with drifts of winter snow.
The people here are attending an Advanced Guide School for All-Outdoors, one of
California's largest outfitters. This early spring seminar - a tradition in this 30-year-old,
family-owned company - helps senior guides transmit "river dharma" to beginner
guides who feel they're ready to evolve, and rise to a new level after their qualifying
period of Class III service. These journeyman guides initially seem struck mute as they
stare at a 15-foot waterfall. The rapid, dubbed Shrapnel, has a tight, complex,
boulder-clogged entry. Then, after icy water collects to roar over the falls, it bashes
straight into a car-sized rock. Next, it ricochets down chutes that split and re-braid for
another 100 yards.
The guides do not stay silent long. They clamber slowly down the banks, pointing out
possible trajectories for their rafts. They scheme with each other on the best way to
assemble moves that will allow them to avoid carnage while navigating the run. A lithe
figure with a weather-carved face wanders among them. He doesn't say much, but his
dark eyes absorb everything. This is Scott Armstrong, 36, youngest son of the
All-Outdoors founder. Scott began rafting at age 6, and now helms the company's river
operations. "At most rapids, we like to hang back, and let students figure things out,''
Armstrong told me. "That's the kind of learning that sticks. But if the timing seems
right, we try to drop in a clue.''
Laurie Schlavin crests five feet in height by two inches. When soaking wet, her weight
might total 118 pounds. Today, several tons of rafts and people are her burden. She
March/April must see them all safely down the run. Her only lever on this project: judgment. Laurie,
2000 28, is an ER nurse from Sacramento who plunged into the river realm by taking a
• Letter from the Editor beginner guide school class at age 18. She's worked summers and part-time as a
guide since then, mostly at All-Outdoors.
• Features
• River Runner Now she's taking her third advanced clinic, and Scott has upped the ante. She's on
Supplement
point, commanding the initial, four-raft group. Everyone here will observe her run. If
• Eddylines she makes it, they'll all seek to follow her line. Laurie's blue eyes grow rather wide as
• Hotline she walks up and down the banks, trying to imagine moves that will solve the
• Letter from the ACA four-dimensional Rubik's Cube of the drop. Finally, Scott whispers to her. The key to
• Paddle Tales this whole rapid, he says, lies right at its entry. An S-shaped, right-left move atop a
dome-shaped pourover boulder forms the crux. Just nail that S-turn at the lip, and the
• First Descents
rest of the route should unfold in a natural progression.
• ECO
• Destinations Laurie assumes her seat in the stern. Now, each moment glows with that timeless,
• Gear crystalline clarity which high doses of adrenaline bestow. Her paddlers, who include
• Skills Scott, take up position. The crew, at her orders, deftly maneuver the Avon self-bailer.
• Different Strokes There's one heart-stopping moment as we slide off the dome rock above the falls. Is
this angle right? Abruptly, we catch the left edge of the falls' main chute, slam into
• Flipside fast-forward on the drop, surf a pillow off the barrier boulder, squirt left, then careen
through the boulder garden below. No one gets bounced out. So far, so good.
More from But control of the ricocheting raft is not regained quickly enough. Our target eddy near
River Runner the bottom is entered too low and we can't avoid smacking into a spiky log. Suddenly,
we are stopped, hung up. A sharp branch jams into a deflating main tube. A short,
Supplement Class IV stretch, the last leg of the boulder garden, still seethes just below us.
Some Like It Big Everyone glances furtively at Scott. But this time, the boss keeps his lips buttoned. Not
one bit of advice is forthcoming. Laurie dithers between trying to haul us out here, right
The Skinny on Big Boats against the cliff, or trying to scoot through the rest of this drop with a floppy boat. The
River-Trip Planning most desirable haul-out, a flat, pebbly beach, does await at the bottom of the rapid ...
but it's all the way across the stream. "The longer we sit here bubbling air, the worse
A Reminder it'll be, no matter what you decide on,'' a passenger prompts. Scott still says nothing.
Blackadar's Missing
Manuscript
Laurie makes her call. "Push off! Let's go! Right turn!'' she snaps. Seconds later, her
raft successfully exits on the secure beach. Soon it's awaiting a patch, drying out and
Dinosaur Size Fees getting warm in the sun...as are all of us. Her call proved correct.
Site Zed Chalkboard
Rafting guide schools are a successful adjunct to the business of herding clients down
M.I.A.
whitewater streams. They serve students who yearn to qualify for life as a raft guide,
Guide School 101 as well as members of the public wishing to gain skill in order to operate their own
rafts more safely.
Waiting List Woes
On the East Coast, guide school classes exist, but opportunities are relatively sparse.
In the West, especially Colorado and California, guide classes of various types are far
Return to more abundant. Contacting raft outfitting companies in your area is the easiest way to
Table of Contents
begin research on what's available. Generally, companies are most willing to train
people who plan to come to work for them. Some firms, however, do schedule
beginner classes for the public with no strings attached. The American Canoe
Association (ACA) currently has no sanctions or requirements for classes, but these
are in the works. Swiftwater Rescue and Wilderness First Aid courses, which do have
guidelines and certifications, are currently offered separately. These make fine
additions to the overall education of a competent river guide.
In beginner schools, one learns how to: rig a raft; outfit and direct passengers; read
and navigate rapids; and cope with mishaps. Advanced schools are more rare. These
are usually offered by companies to enhance skills of people already on their staff, and
get them ready to face Class IV-V, emergency, high water or exploratory situations.
The most important skill to acquire at any level of training is judgment. California's
1998 whitewater season seemed to sadly lack it. Thirteen deaths occurred, 10 during
a month-long, high water surge from a melting El Ni–o snowpack. Most were due to
private boaters trying to run rapids in absurd ways (on an air mattress, a log, by
swimming) or by embarking on single-boat outings without any backup. Had these
parties acquired even a small part of the wisdom that's stock-in-trade for experienced
guides, the toll could have been greatly reduced.
But hazard lurks in moving water for everyone. One of California's 1998 river deaths
was Greg Mally, 33, a veteran guide with Calif.-based O.A.R.S. who logged more than
80 trips down the Tuolumne. But on his last run, at a rapid called Gray's Grindstone,
his raft flipped. Passengers made it to safety but Mally did not - although he was
properly equipped for a swim. It was the company's first fatality in 27 years.
Whitewater's thrills sometimes stand revealed as holding genuine danger. That's why
a river guide must be something more than a fairway carnie, barking rubes onto God's
aquatic Tilt-a-Whirl. A guide has to be ready, willing and able to take responsibility for
human lives. This does not mean the guide life lacks for carnival-like aspects.
Especially when seen from the outside (where imagination of an onlooker enhances
the view), it does appear to be quite the show.
This scene seems to be chiefly peopled by a slew of lithe young ladies and studly,
flat-tummied males, garnished alike with deep tans, rippling muscles, sun-bleached
hair and tattoos. At the end of a working weekend, they frequently enjoy evenings
filled with brews, rock n' roll and wild dancing. What's not to enjoy about such a life?
Well, how would you like to be marooned all day on the rowing seat of a four-ton gear
raft, handle stinky, crap-crammed rocket boxes, soothe whiney clients, and do it all for
a paycheck that won't stretch far enough to replace the bald tires on your beat-up
heap of a car?
"Wish I could give a saucier answer,'' sighs Smokey Pittman, a senior All-Outdoors
instructor, responding to a query about the guides' party life. "Truth is, it's just about
what you should expect when any group of college-age people wind up together. No
better, and no worse. Sure, sometimes clients get hot for their guides. And vice-versa.
But people hunting for romance and one-night stands also find each other by strolling
into singles bars. You can't say the river world sees more of that.''
If the time I spent with the All-Outdoors school offers any indication, the famed social
warmth of the river guide realm has a very simple explanation. People drawn to this
job are spontaneous, energetic and gregarious. Either that, or they tend to grow that
way the longer they stick to it. In the lodges where we began and ended each
whitewater day, as guides champed their chow and absorbed their indoor lessons,
their convivial buzz of chitchat and laughter was boisterous, encompassing and
enduring. But when it came time to address logistics and river lore, that hubbub faded
right down into sober attention, just as though a rheostat had been twisted. Here's
some of the "river dharma'' transmitted to student guides in both on- and off-river
training.
Read the whole book. Scout all the way down to the bottom of a major rapid.
Sometimes, looking back upstream is the only way to spot strainers and submerged
boulders or logs that may have an impact on your route. Put together a run from the
bottom up: first figure out your desired exit, then how you're going to get there. Lastly,
look downstream from the top of the drop to retain fresh memory of your entrance
landmarks.
Find rivers within the river. Any stream is a braid of jets, chutes, eddy fences,
recirculating hydraulics and rebounding forces. Some currents dive under sheets of
foam, then reappear. A key trick is to learn to "split'' these forces, to blend them by
straddling the boat over them. Think of the array of forces as the elements of a
cocktail. The raft is the blender; add together the currents you want to produce a
cumulative effect. The raft captain is the bartender. Everybody aboard has to drink the
result.
Don't push it. Most often, float your boat at the speed of current, or even slower. This
helps you conserve the maximum amount of time to figure out, then execute
maneuvers. Save hard charging to punch through big holes or reversing waves.
Crabwalk to choice. The quickest way to shift your position on a river and select a new
route or chute is to put your raft sideways, or perpendicular to the main current. Then,
a simple forward or reverse move will create the greatest amount of lateral shift. When
you reach the position you want, a simple quarter-spin readies you to take the drop.
Concentric awareness. The first circle of awareness is your paddle crew. Are they
balanced, focused, engaged, responsive? If not, then why not? The next circle is the
water visible in a short radius around your boat. Are there any awash boulders nearby
that can ground you or smack you off your line? The next circle out is the entire rapid.
Do you have your landmarks located for Plan A, as well as Option B? Remember, this
is a circle, so do you know for sure if any craft are gaining on you from behind,
positioned to jam you in that hole? The next circle is the surrounding terrain. What do
those landforms say about the river ahead? Will it be a sharp or gradual bend? Is the
canyon there made of bedrock, gravel or landslide boulders? What sort of rapid should
result? A very large circle deals with the weather and time of day. What should your
current plan be? Would it be smart to adjust to a new situation and hatch a fresh
schedule?
Your body as watercraft. Anyone, even the guide, can be flipped out mid-rapid. In fact,
the stern perch for a paddle raft captain is a real rodeo seat, since it's leveraged by the
whole length of the boat. Are you ready to swim? Wet or dry suit, PFD, helmet, good
river shoes? Practiced in-stream maneuvering technique?
Preparation for immersion is an area which senior guide Smokey Pittman has
knocked. Pittman, 33, wears a river outfit consisting of a Body Glove surfer's wetsuit
and a tiny Lotus squirt vest. He also sports an arrowhead necklace, two silver
earrings, wrap-around shades, a G-shock watch, and - not infrequently - a wad of lip
snuff. However, those latter things are just icons of personal style. The key here is that
his overall appearance is sleek, with no bulky, projecting elements. "After a few swims
through log jams, boulder gardens and flooded riparian forests, I learned to dress like
a seal, not a soldier, with all kinds of crap hanging off of me,'' Smokey says. "Of
course, the outfit also helps keep me nimble and quick, so I can avoid stuff before it
happens.''
In a nutshell, that's the major theme of guide school: Yes, prepare for the worst, but
learn to see problems coming and figure out ways to dance around them. For a paddle
raft captain (the most common form of guiding), that means becoming a
choreographer of your team.
"How the load responds has everything to do with the way you can drive that boat,''
Smokey says. "So, teach your team to stay balanced as they apply force and perform
maneuvers. Get them skilled at doing things before they have to. If they haven't
practiced high-sides (swiftly moving weight to one part of the raft), they won't be able
to do it in a crunch.'' Of all river skills, the ability to read moving water is one of the
most difficult for instructors to transmit. The basics are understandable enough. But in
high-water Class IV and V, the topic grows extremely complex. Those with years of
experience may have the knowledge in their bones, but offering it verbally isn't easy.
That's when teaching is most effective as a form of show-and-tell. On the second day,
at a long, zig-zagging Class IV+ rapid dubbed Maychecks, Smokey briefly took over
command of a paddle boat from student Sasha Hall. She had been doing a decent job,
yet was a bit jittery about shifting her raft left to right and back again, constantly
hunting for a proper line-up.
Under Smokey's command, the paddle crew mostly held their blades in the air. He
balanced the raft right on the spine of the main current, and simply twisted the boat
down the rapid. He could star in a deodorant commercial - he's that calm, cool and
collected. Because he was relaxed, the crew was relaxed. There was no useless
expenditure of physical or emotional energy. With that resonant example displayed,
the simple words which followed seem much more profound. "You have to let a raft
float,'' Smokey says. "That's what a raft does best. Then you can feel the pivot points,
and see how those points change. And then you discover how much you can
accomplish just by making turns.''
The first two days of the school were on the Class IV+ stretch of the North Fork Stan'.
The last day and grand finale came on the Class V+ lower run, which included
Shrapnel. After her raft was patched, Laurie Schlavin continued to lead the raft parade
downstream. The patch delay was followed by another tedious 90 minutes spent lining
the boats down to an enormous stream-wide sweeper (fallen tree), then portaging
them around this dangerous obstacle. Since the run had been planned for three hours,
and was now taking more than six, people were cold and hungry, and shadows were
getting long.
Still, Laurie remained unruffled and methodical as she directed the action. Scott
Armstrong was quiet, but approving, as he observed. "We have about 150 guides who
will work for us this year,'' Armstrong says. "Of those, about 40 are selected to work
full time. And there's less than a dozen I consider qualified to run all our rivers at any
flow.
"What those with the potential to be top guides have in common is that when things
get tough, or something goes wrong - and in rafting it's not if, it's when things go
wrong, because they will - these people don't get frantic. They slow down, they stay
calm, they get more focused. They might even start joking more about the situation.
Great guides stay in their comfort zone at all times, and because of that, they lower
the level of anxiety of everyone around them.''
That must, I think, have been the very quality most desired in the master of a pioneer
wagon train.
Raft Guide
Training Courses
Although countless outfitters offer training programs for their would-be guides, few
offer these services to the general public. Following are a few places to learn the
rafting ropes.
Jackson Hole, Wyo.'s Whitewater Guide School provides participants with an overall
training experience, confronting all major aspects of whitewater rafting, with special
emphasis on the requirements of the Snake River. The course is designed to fully train
and qualify the participants to work commercially on the Snake, teaching everything
from knots and boat care to rowing and river rescue skills. Classes are offered at the
end of May, the week before Memorial weekend, and for those who qualify, chances
are good for employment during the summer season. If hired, and you stay the entire
season, or leave on an agreed upon date, the $300 guide school fee is refunded. For
more information, call 1-800-458-RAFT.
Whitewater Voyages
El Sobrante, Calif.'s Whitewater Voyages offers 7-day courses in both rowing and
paddle boat captaining. Year 2000 classes take place April 15-22 and June 18-25 on
the American River and May 14-21 on the Kern River. Price for each course is $795,
which covers meals, intensive workshops and instruction on fundamentals like reading
water and maneuvering a boat, as well as more advanced skills like rescue
procedures and Class V safety techniques. West Coast residents may also want to
attend the Kern River Celebration, May 5-7, where there will be opportunities to try
paddling a variety of different craft.
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River Flows
Waiting List Woes
New policy affects ability to pick up cancellations on the Grand
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
The most noticeable change - which went into effect Dec. 1, 1999 - alters how
cancellations are distributed. Estimating that 20 to 40 percent of trip leaders cancel
their scheduled launches, the Park Service - to combat potential under-use - routinely
releases extra launch dates. Historically, these have been released through a call-in
"cancellation" line to the first caller, and everyone on the waiting list was eligible.
Last year, 40 cancellations were released for dates between mid April and mid
October. Of that number, four got picked up by people who joined the waiting list in
1997, 22 by people who joined in '98, and 14 by people who didn't get on the list until
'99. The new policy favors those who have waited the longest. Here is how it will work:
The river office will release additional launch dates beginning on Monday mornings.
Each Friday, the message line will be updated to list launch dates to be released
during the next week, with waiting list participants able to call over the weekend to find
out what dates will become available. The line will be answered starting Monday
morning at 8:00, with the launches released to the first eligible caller wanting that date.
The catch: Only waiting list participants with numbers from 1 to 999 are eligible to call
on Mondays, with eligibility increasing throughout the week. On Tuesdays those with
waiting list numbers between 1 and 1,999 can call; on Wednesdays those between 1
and 2,999 can call; on Thursdays those between 1 and 3,999 can call; and on Fridays
all waiting list participants can call.
"We believe the change is in the best interest of the majority of those on the waiting list
and is consistent with guiding principles listed within the 1989 Colorado River
Management Plan," says Grand Canyon National Park's Laurie Domler. "Look at it this
way: when a person at the top of the list accepts a launch date, everyone else on the
list moves up one spot. A waiting list is made to favor those who have waited the
longest, and our policy for releasing cancellations will also."
- edb
March/April
2000
• Letter from the Editor
• Features
• River Runner
Supplement
• Eddylines
• Hotline
• Letter from the ACA
• Paddle Tales
• First Descents
• ECO
• Destinations
• Gear
• Skills
• Different Strokes
• Flipside
More from
River Runner
Supplement
Some Like It Big
River-Trip Planning
A Reminder
Blackadar's Missing
Manuscript
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River Flows
National Canoe Safety Patrol Going Strong
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA jody deignan
In the 16 years prior to 1996, the Delaware River averaged more than two drownings
per year. In the four years since, this New Jersey gem hasn't experienced any. Why
the dramatic downturn? Look no further than the efforts of the National Canoe Safety
Patrol.
Unlike the group's snow-based namesake, you don't need ski slopes to find assistance
from these patrollers. Founded 22 years ago by Chris Nielsen, the group is organized
along the lines of the National Ski Patrol, working in conjunction with the National Park
Service to maintain safety on the Delaware River. Despite its name, kayakers are very
welcome, with the only requirement being a free two-day safety and rescue workshop.
"The Delaware is one of the biggest places where canoes get rented to inexperienced
paddlers," says Nielsen. "In the early days, liveries there had no regard for safety."
All that's changed now, thanks to the all-volunteer patrol, whose members are
recruited from nearby paddling clubs. According to Nielsen, there hasn't been a single
drowning on the river in three years; and there were 36 drownings between 1980 and
1996. "It's a dramatic turn-around," he says. "And I think it's largely due to our patrol
program."
The group's tactics are simple: by hosting presentations and slideshows at put-in
campgrounds that stress the importance of lifejackets and other safe paddling tips, the
group relies on grassroots efforts to spread its message. And people take the lessons
they learn back to their clubs, further spreading the word. "We welcome anyone to
come get their skills where they need to be," says Patrol Commodore Dick Rhodes.
A few years ago, the group, now at more than 100 volunteers, formed a National
Executive Committee to create more chapters. There are now three active chapters,
two on the Delaware and one on the Potomac. To attend the training session, potential
patrollers need to attend a one-day indoor orientation session in early April and pay a
$15 annual membership fee. To join the patrol they must also commit at least two
weekends in May and June to the cause, and be certified in CPR.
March/April
2000
• Letter from the Editor
• Features
• River Runner
Supplement
• Eddylines
• Hotline
• Letter from the ACA
• Paddle Tales
• First Descents
• ECO
• Destinations
• Gear
• Skills
• Different Strokes
• Flipside
More from
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Outdoorplay/AW
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River Flows
Ohiopyle Falls Race Raises Money, Lowers Ban
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA Tim Hogan
The brains behind the race isn't surprising. The idea for it
began two years ago when extreme kayaker Jeff Snyder of
Accident, Md., approached Jim Greenbaum, manager of one of Ohiopyle's four
licensed outfitters. "I'd like to run this thing," Snyder told him, "legally." That got
Greenbaum thinking, and he began discussing it with local playboater Chuck Morris
who saw it as an opportunity to "show the State Park officials that the falls are safe
and to open it up on a regular basis." He suggested letting kayaks and canoes run the
drop during off-peak times for sightseers.
Safety was emphasized thoughout the day, from the mandatory 9 a.m. orientation to
the ropes, rafts and rescue kayakers stationed below the falls. There were no serious
injuries. The race course consisted of a few hundred yards of tricky whitewater, the
drop over the falls and a 100-foot flatwater sprint to the finish line. Maryland's Brian
Homberg came out on top, finishing with his Wavehopper kayak in 1:13.93. Rating the
March/April whitewater above the falls as some of the best on the Yough, he calls the race "a good
excuse for everybody to run the falls and a great step for paddling in this area." Ted
2000 DeVoe took the freestyle category by performing several pirouettes before
• Letter from the Editor cartwheeling into the foam below.
• Features A $25 entrance fee collected from each boater went to The Ohiopyle-Stewart
• River Runner Volunteer Fire Department. Plans are already underway for next year's race and,
Supplement
many boaters hope, legal running of the falls all year long.
• Eddylines
• Hotline - Tim Hogan
• Letter from the ACA
• Paddle Tales
• First Descents
• ECO
• Destinations
• Gear
• Skills
• Different Strokes
• Flipside
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River Flows
Kayakers Rescued After First Descent Attempt
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA Jason Blevins
What do the Denver Police Department, Fremont County Search and Rescue
paramedics and the U.S. Army have in common? They were all involved in a daring
helicopter rescue last August of three kayakers tackling a first descent of Beaver
Creek, a tributary to Colorado's Arkansas River. "Luckily, we had a happy ending,"
says rescue coordinator Andrew McGregor. " We had three men come out alive. They
were tired, hungry and thirsty, but otherwise unharmed."
The situation arose after the three kayakers - John Weatherford, 26; William Cote, 32;
and Luke Urbine, 25, all commercial guides on the Arkansas - set out at 11 a.m. for a
first descent of 600-foot-per-mile Beaver Creek. Expecting to complete the 15-mile trip
in one day, they quickly ran into problems because of downed trees and ended up
trapped in the canyon for three days. "We had to carry too many rapids," says
Weatherford. "We carried our boats for miles."
At dusk the first night, the group pulled over and made a fire to keep warm. By the
next morning, they were almost out of food, splitting their last energy bar before
continuing. At noon they gave up. "We came to a huge wall and figured we couldn't
get through," says Weatherford, who climbed out of the canyon and used a two-way
radio to make contact with a 15-year-old boy 35 miles away in Pueblo. After the boy
called 911, Search and Rescue personnel made contact with Weatherford and called
for a helicopter. Unable to find one from conventional sources, they finally tracked
down the Denver Police Department, which agreed to help.
Helicopter pilot Bob Bosworth and co-pilot Mike Graves flew the department's Bell 407
to Fremont County, where they picked up two paramedics before heading to the
Beaver Creek area. In pitch darkness and wind, Bosworth dropped the chopper down
into the canyon, resting its skids on the canyon wall so the paramedics could jump out.
"It was so black it was like flying inside a volcano," Bosworth says. "It was a one-shot
deal."
When the paramedics reached Urbine and Cote, they found them cold and
dehydrated. Weatherford, meanwhile, was still at the top of the canyon without food or
water. The next morning he descended the cliff to join his friends, who, thanks to the
paramedics, were now fed and warm. Later, the U.S. Army sent a Blackhawk
helicopter from Fort Carson to pull the paddlers out. All three were back at their homes
in Ca–on City that afternoon - a little wearier and a little wiser.
March/April
2000
• Letter from the Editor
• Features
• River Runner
Supplement
• Eddylines
• Hotline
• Letter from the ACA
• Paddle Tales
• First Descents
• ECO
• Destinations
• Gear
• Skills
• Different Strokes
• Flipside
More from
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Cardboard or Concrete
Outdoorplay/AW
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River Flows
NOWR Adopts New Classification System
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
Beginning freestyle paddlers no longer have to fear competing against the big guns as
the National Organization of Whitewater Rodeos (NOWR) recently announced a new
standardized competitor classification system. "We did it to encourage amateur
participation by providing a defined means of moving through the ranks," says
NOWR's Jayne Abbot. "We also wanted to create a new level of credibility for Pro
competitors by providing Pro-level qualification standards."
Competitors in K-1, C-1 and OC-1 will now classify themselves based on age (18 and
under,19-39 and over 40) and skill level (pro, expert, sport, beginner). All NOWR
events will offer some mixture of these classes. Once a skill level has been chosen, a
competitor must meet certain qualifications of that category to move to the next level.
In 2000, competitors at the Beginner, Sport and Expert levels won't be required to
register with NOWR to participate at NOWR events. Only registered NOWR Pro
athletes will be eligible to compete in the Pro class at NOWR events and the
OutdoorPlay.com Freestyle Championship Series.
- edb
March/April
2000
• Letter from the Editor
• Features
• River Runner
Supplement
• Eddylines
• Hotline
• Letter from the ACA
• Paddle Tales
• First Descents
• ECO
• Destinations
• Gear
• Skills
• Different Strokes
• Flipside
More from
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Cardboard or Concrete
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River Flows
Cardboard or Concrete
Creativity Rules in Canoe Building
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
Tom Bie
Spillers isn't afraid to travel to win. He made a 700-mile round-trip journey to the
Mississippi race and plans on driving all the way to Illinois next summer. "I'm single
and don't have any children," he says. "I turned 40 in January and this is like going
back to my childhood."
Cardboard canoe racing isn't exactly new - one annual event in Carbondale, Ill. is
entering its 26th year. And of course there are rules, even in this off-beat competition.
Boats are constructed using four layers of corrugated cardboard and glue can be used
to hold the thing together but only if it has no catalysts or hardeners. Spillers' boat,
which he used in all three victorious races, is 14 and a half feet long and weighs 25
pounds. "I laminated each sheet of cardboard and held it together with duct tape and
liquid nails," he says. "But I plan on being even faster next year. I'll have a new boat
and I'll be out to win."
The innovative concrete mixtures, coupled with efficient hull designs, have helped the
Return to boats achieve some amazingly fast results in recent years - 9 mph over a 200-meter
Table of Contents sprint course. "These boats are very quick," Gilbert says. "They're approaching the
straight-line speed of Olympic C-1 boats." UAH's 1999 entry was 22 feet long and
weighed a wispy 69 pounds. At least one admirer agrees that the boats are achieving
results worth noticing. "I'd never heard of the races until this year and it was a tough
sell for me in the beginning," says Mike Montgomery, events manager for USA
Canoe/Kayak. "But they're sneaking up on us. I see this as a great inroad to the
college paddler and the methods these students are using can be applied to so many
applications."
So many indeed. Gilbert says the knowledge gained in the creation of concrete
canoes is being looked at for a variety of other uses. "Some of the technology being
developed here is being transferred to the marketplace and is being considered for
low-mass shelters in space or low-cost housing materials," he says. "And the day may
come when someone says to us, ïHey, build us an Olympic boat.' An inch in
technology can be the difference between a silver and a gold."
- tb
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River Flows
Outdoorplay/AW Announce Cash Rodeo Series
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
OutdoorPlay.com CEO John "Tree" Trujillo agrees. "In the past few years, interest in
paddlesports has exploded and freestyle has reached maturity as a competitive sport,"
he says. "The OutdoorPlay.com Freestyle Championship Series is the perfect
opportunity to help AW raise the profile of its education and conservation work, while
supporting development of the sport."
- edb
March/April
2000
• Letter from the Editor
• Features
• River Runner
Supplement
• Eddylines
• Hotline
• Letter from the ACA
• Paddle Tales
• First Descents
• ECO
• Destinations
• Gear
• Skills
• Different Strokes
• Flipside
More from
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Cardboard or Concrete
Outdoorplay/AW
Announce Cash Rodeo
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River Flows
Wrong Way Tours
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
On the day of the craft's maiden voyage, she called and said she couldn't go. So I
asked my friend Rick. The plan seemed simple. After work, we'd head out to
Hendricks Park on the McKenzie River, where we'd put in and float to Valley River
Center, where Rick's pickup would be waiting. Sounded good. Only problem was the
McKenzie River doesn't go past Valley River Center, the Willamette River does. But
we didn't have time to plan for every little detail - we just wanted to get in the water.
"Kayak inflated?" "Check." "Life jackets on?" "Check." "Know where you're going?"
"Nope." "Oars in the water?" "Not all of Ôem."
We put in at 7:43 p.m. I remember the time exactly because it was the last time I ever
saw my watch. Some trout is now waking up promptly at 5:50 each morning to my
alarm. Other than that, the trip started perfectly. It was a beautiful evening, the river
refreshingly chilly. Practicing our skills, it wasn't long before we mastered doing a 180
every sixth stroke. As the sun set, we realized we were nowhere near our destination.
Concern set in. After calculating the speed we'd have to average, we realized we
might have to pull over somewhere. Two seconds later, we flipped. The river wasn't
refreshingly chilly anymore.
Once on shore, we took inventory and agreed things were getting dangerous. "We'd
better get out and look for some help to get back to the cars," Rick suggested. That
sounded smart. Did one of us actually think of that? But there was no way up the
bank. Now we made one of our better decisions - we got in the kayak and set off
again. But it was too dark to see anything. So for the next hour, we listened blindly for
the calmest sounding forks and paddled that way - which usually resulted in scraping
over rocks in inch-deep water.
Eventually we saw emergency lights on the road about a half-mile ahead. "Hallelujah!
We're saved!" we yelled. We made good progress until we were about l00 yards away
and the river forked again. Listening, we did one of our patented 180s and went
backwards through light rapids until we high-centered in one-inch deep water again.
Next, we carried the kayak to the left bank and surveyed the situation. At least we
were off the river. All we needed now was to get to the emergency vehicles on the
right bank. We looked at each other and realized with dismay that we had to get back
in the kayak again. After paddling across, we rammed the bank and bounced back off,
March/April grabbing grass, bushes, squirrel tails and anything else we could to stay against
2000 shore. Finally we were able to pull out and make our way up to the road where the
McKenzie Fire Department was holding a drill. We looked liked two crazed, wet rats
• Letter from the Editor
coming out of the darkness, wide-eyed and staggering.
• Features
• River Runner "You guys are out in an inflatable kayak in the dark?" asked a firefighter, surprised at
Supplement our request for help.
• Eddylines
• Hotline "Yep." Then he asked where we put in.
• Letter from the ACA "Hendricks Park," we replied.
• Paddle Tales
• First Descents "And where is your shuttle vehicle?"
• ECO
"Valley River Center," we replied. We didn't understand his next line of questioning
• Destinations
until we found out the river didn't go by Valley River Center.
• Gear
• Skills "Did you guys tip over in the river? Are you hypothermic? Do you feel disoriented? Are
• Different Strokes you nuts? Am I on Candid Camera?"
• Flipside
We were embarrassed, but at least we were off the river. Then the firefighter asked us
which car we wanted to go to. That's when Rick noticed he lost his keys when the
kayak flipped. So we piled soaking wet into the back of the firefighter's pickup (for
More from some reason he didn't want us in the cab with him), and went back to Hendricks Park
Paddle Tales to get my car. I thought about what the next day's headline might read: "Dead Boaters
Pulled from Beached Kayak Facing Upstream in One-Inch-Deep Water 100 Miles from
Wrong Way Tours
Pick-up Vehicle Without Keys. Foul Play Suspected."
A Shuttle to Remember -
or Forget Eventually we made it back, safe and sound. It's not a pretty story, but at least we
survived. In fact, with all the experience we gained we're thinking of starting our own
river trip business. We could name it Wrong River Tours, and we've already reserved
Return to our phone number: 1-800-Where-Are-We?
Table of Contents
- Arlyn Engel, Eugene, Oregon
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River Flows
Lake Michigan Gets a Water Trail
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
Lately, "Make no little plans" may apply to sea kayaks and canoes as well - not only
for paddling Lake Michigan, but for hundreds of miles of Illinois rivers. A new
Northeastern Illinois Regional Water trail plan proposes a 480-mile water trail system
for 10 waterways. A "trail" is a river or lake with a series of put-ins and takeouts (3-5
miles apart)Üall tied together by coordinated signs to form a trail.
This is good news for Chicago area lake paddlers: Historically, there has been no
official access for kayaks or canoes from Chicago beaches. The North Shore
lakefront, mostly private, allows only costly fee-based access from seven suburbs -
each with different fees, rules and regulations. (In Evanston, for example, it costs $l5
dollars for a daily launch pass and $175 a season for non-residents, for out-and-back
boating.) In fact, in Illinois, a state with hundreds of rivers, public access is allowed on
fewer than 50 streams.
The water trail plan - like Burnham's - is perhaps the first of its kind in the nation.
Passed last September, it resulted from a three-year cooperative effort by the Illinois
Paddling Council, the Northeastern Illinois Planning Commission (NIPC), DNR and the
Open Lands Project. The waterways covered are Lake Michigan; Calumet area
waterways; the Chicago, Des Plaines, Du Page, Fox, Kishwaukee and Kankakee
rivers; and Salt and Nippersink creeks.
Burnham's plan took decades to complete. This plan proposes finishing the majority of
trails within one to three years, and with good reason - the trails already exist
(compared to building a network of bike trails). Eighty percent of the waterways (376
miles) are publicly owned by agencies such as park districts. And, since most (7l
percent) of the 174 access sites need only minor improvements, it will be inexpensive.
A new basic launch site, with parking, signs and bank stabilization, is estimated to cost
$l6,000, and a state grant program is already in place.
Water trail committees proposed for each trail will consist of paddlers, site owners,
March/April government officials and residents, with a regional council of representatives. Other
2000 recommendations include coordinated signs (with information on distances, dams and
other obstacles and pollution), maps, emergency services and a Web site.
• Letter from the Editor
• Features Meanwhile, the Lake Michigan Water Trail Group has already worked on gaining lake
• River Runner access for kayaks and canoes, and has sponsored an annual Lake Michigan Water
Supplement Trail Day for several years. Events in l997 and ï98 attracted some of the largest
• Eddylines gatherings of sea kayakers on the Illinois shore, showing beach managers and park
• Hotline district officials the water trail from the kayaker's point of view. Last September's event
• Letter from the ACA celebrated eight new launch sites on the Chicago lakefront.
• Paddle Tales Burnham referred to the lake as a living thing, "delighting man's eye and refreshing his
• First Descents spirit." The most recent Water Trail Day underscored how a water trail can enhance an
• ECO already magnificent resource. "Make big plans; aim high in hope and work..." he
• Destinations continued. Now, nearly a century later, Chicago may again be a trendsetter: Future
• Gear proposals include coordinating the water trail around the lake with trails in Wisconsin
and Indiana.
• Skills
• Different Strokes - Bob McCray
• Flipside
More from
ECO
Utility Agrees to Remove
Dam on White Salmon
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River Flows
Utility Agrees to Remove Dam on White Salmon
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
As the river's name indicates, the White Salmon was once home to a thriving salmon
run. All but the lower three miles of that run were choked off in 1913, however, when
125-foot Condit Dam was built without a fish ladder. In a move that U.S. Interior
Secretary Bruce Babbitt called "the Northwest's epicenter of hope," PacifiCorp
announced Sept. 22 that it has decided to tear down the dam by 2006.
The decision was based purely on economics. Three years earlier, the Federal Energy
Regulatory Commission informed the utility that the dam's operating license would not
be renewed unless the dam was retrofitted with fish ladders costing an estimated $30
million. But the dam could be removed for only $17.2 million - a savings of nearly $13
million. And its 14-megawatt hydroelectric capacity was only 0.1 percent of
PacifiCorp's total.
Initially, the government wouldn't consider the dam-removal option unless PacifiCorp
hired a fleet of dump trucks to cart away sediments that had accumulated behind it
during 86 years of operation. But that requirement was a potential deal-killer,
increasing the estimated cost by more than $30 million. Conservationists reexamined
the issue and concluded that instead of carting away the sediments, maybe it was
okay to just let the river do the job itself. "Anything else was prohibitively expensive
and in any event, there was always going to be some sedimentation from the removal
process," says Katherine Ransel, northwest regional director for American Rivers.
March/April Overall, she says, a one-time shot of sediment is an acceptable price for getting rid of
2000 the dam.
• Letter from the Editor Because the decision evolved from negotiations among PacifiCorp, conservationists,
• Features the government, and Indian tribes whose livelihood once depended on salmon, the
• River Runner deal has widespread support.
Supplement
• Eddylines But there have been protests from cabin owners whose homes will no longer be
• Hotline lake-side. In an impassioned statement to Portland's Oregonian newspaper, one
• Letter from the ACA homeowner said she felt sold out by environmentalists seeking to put "a political notch
on their gun."
• Paddle Tales
• First Descents Restoring the White Salmon is an important test for salmon recovery throughout the
• ECO Northwest. The upper river has long been maintained in pristine condition. With the
• Destinations dam gone, the only obstacle between its spawning beds and the sea will be Bonneville
• Gear Dam on the Columbia River, which salmon have been navigating since the 1930s. If
salmon won't rebound quickly on the White Salmon, they're not likely to do so
• Skills
anywhere. How many fish the river might support depends on whether they can
• Different Strokes surmount a 30-foot waterfall 16 miles upriver to reach upstream habitat; biologists
• Flipside estimate the river might support 7,500 Chinook, Coho and steelhead.
The restored river is also likely to be popular with paddlers. Not only will dam removal
connect its upper and lower segments, but the buzz in Portland is that the stretch of
More from
water beneath the present-day lake will prove to be a unique Class III run, in a tight,
ECO narrow canyon. "Usually to get into that kind of canyon, you have to deal with Class V
Utility Agrees to Remove rapids," says Keith Jensen, co-owner of Portland's Alder Creek Kayak and Canoe. If
Dam on White Salmon the new run really is a Class III, he adds, "it's going to be fantastic for beginners and
intermediates."
Lake Michigan Gets a
Water Trail - Richard Lovett
Eco News Wire
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River Flows
Eco News Wire
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
Until four years ago, Idaho's Bear River, a classic narrow gorge featuring columnar
basalt with ledge drops, hadn't run for almost a decade, its water diverted to a small
hydro plant. Although paddlers have enjoyed it for the past few years, the Bear River
might soon become a bare river once again.
Electric utility PacifiCorp recently submitted applications for its Bear River
hydroelectric projects (Soda, Grace/Cove and Oneida) to the Federal Energy
Regulatory Commission (FERC), kicking off a new round in the relicensing of these
projects. "FERC has the job of evaluating the applications, determining what
conditions should be in the new licenses, and issuing new licenses," says Liz Paul of
Idaho Rivers United. "The first order of business is to read the applications and
determine if PacifiCorp provided adequate information."
Idaho Rivers feels it hasn't. "They don't provide enough mitigation for the projects'
impacts to fisheries, recreation, wildlife and botanical resources," says Paul. "They
should've identified all the impacts of their projects and measures to reduce negative
impacts."
Portland, Ore.'s River Network and Montpelier, Vt.'s River Watch Network, long
comrades in the fight to save rivers, officially joined forces in October and will now
operate as one organization. The group will retain the name River Network and will be
based in Portland with field offices in Montpelier, Washington, D.C., and Helena, Mont.
"And this merger will enable us to provide better help in four major
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River Flows
The Potomac, A Capital River
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA David Hart
One of my favorite places to explore is the Accotink Bay Wildlife Refuge, bound on two
sides by Fort Belvoir Military Reservation. Two small creeks, Accotink and another that
hasn't been given a name by mapmakers, end their journeys through suburban
Northern Virginia, and provide narrow channels leading far back into a vast
spatterdock- filled tidal marsh.
Wildlife is plentiful on the refuge, which was originally an ordinance testing area used
by the United States Army. It was later set aside for nesting bald eagles (it's a rare day
that you can't see one or two), but it's also become a haven for migrating waterfowl
and wading birds in the fall. Dyke Marsh, another tidal haven for canoeists and wildlife,
offers a similar escape from the subdivisions and strip malls of Northern Virginia and
from the granite canyons of Washington. This maze of islands and narrow channels is
owned by the National Park Service and is designated as a wildlife refuge. It offers an
abundance of bird life, but because it edges up to the George Washington Memorial
Parkway, used by thousands of commuters, it lacks the tranquility of some of the
Potomac's more secluded tidal marshes.
With a little homework, modern-day explorers can find their own private tidal marsh on
the Maryland and Virginia shore, all the way to Chesapeake Bay. Some waterways
March/April have limited access, but those are often the ones offering the most privacy and best
scenery. Bald eagles, as well as a host of other native wildlife, are abundant along the
2000 tidal Potomac. Look for eagles perched in trees near water but far from the steady
• Letter from the Editor boat traffic of the main river.
• Features If the thought of still water and the risk of getting stuck on a mud flat at low tide isn't
• River Runner appealing, or if you just want to try something a little faster-paced, head above
Supplement
Washington, D.C. A few sections here offer strong Class III rapids while flat, steadily
• Eddylines moving water beckons less-experienced paddlers. For those looking for the extreme,
• Hotline there's even the Class V Great Falls.
• Letter from the ACA
• Paddle Tales Access is plentiful thanks to the C&O Canal, which stretches 185 miles from
Cumberland, Md., to Georgetown. The National Park Service owns the property
• First Descents
between the canal and the riverbank for nearly the entire length. This public land,
• ECO along with plentiful parking areas, offers quick and easy access. Float trips of varying
• Destinations lengths are generously scattered from D.C. to Cumberland and beyond.
• Gear
• Skills Mark Grimes, owner of River Riders, Inc., says the
• Different Strokes sheer size of the Potomac is another reason crowds
are never a problem. "The river's over 300 yards
• Flipside wide in some areas, so there's plenty of room for
everyone." Grimes has operated his business,
based in Harpers Ferry, since 1980, and has seen
More from the popularity of the upper Potomac rise. "I started
Destinations out guiding fishermen from canoes," he says. "Then
I started renting canoes and running shuttles, but
The Potomac, A Capital kayaking has grown in popularity so much, we
River started renting them, also."
Caving In
Grimes adds that there isn't much whitewater bigger
than Class III, and during the summer open canoes can handle just about all of it. In
Return to the spring, however, higher water can keep the rapids interesting. "You wouldn't want
Table of Contents to run some sections of the Potomac in anything but a whitewater canoe or a kayak,"
he says.
I couldn't pick a favorite stretch of river because they're all postcard-perfect. Even the
sections close to Washington offer a sense of tranquility, despite their proximity to
millions of residents. On the Virginia side, several jurisdictions own property
designated as parkland for much of the river's length, making development scarce.
The parkland, combined with occasional floods, keep houses far from the river and out
of sight. Only in a few areas near Washington are multi-million dollar homes visible on
high cliffs over the river, but even these are screened by towering oaks, sycamores
and boxelders.
Float-trippers can find plenty of good sections near camping areas well above Great
Falls. The Park Service has established dozens of primitive campsites for those who
hike and bike the C&O Canal towpath. These free areas are spaced about every five
or six miles from Cumberland downriver to Swain's Lock, 16 miles above Georgetown.
And because they are located close to or right on the river, access is easy for
canoeists.
Hiker-biker campsites, as the Park Service calls them, have chemical toilets, water
pumps, trash cans and fire grills and are available on a first-come, first-served basis.
Overnighters should make camp early and explore the C&O Canal, which is rarely
more than a hundred yards from the river's edge. Some sections have water and
canoeists are welcome to paddle it, but others have long since been drained. The big
stone-walled and wooden-gated locks offer interesting insights into life in the
mid-1800s.
The Potomac may seem like it offers too many options, but that's no problem - spend
a day anywhere on this river, and you'll have made the right choice.
Maps
Alexandria Drafting Company
(800-232-6277) sells charts of the tidal Potomac River. The National Park Service
(301-739-4200) offers free maps of the upper section of the river, but they don't show
access points on the Virginia shore or private ramps on the Maryland side. The best
maps of the upper Potomac can be purchased through the Interstate Commission of
the Potomac River Basin for $6. Call (301) 984-1908.
Canoe RentalsRiver Riders, Inc., Harper's Ferry, WV, (304) 535-2663; Swain's Lock,
Potomac, MD, (301) 299-9006; Belle Haven Marina, Alexandria, VA, (703) 768-0018,
Fletcher's Boat House, Washington, D.C., (202) 244-0461.
River Conditions
(703) 260-0305
Camping Information
National Park Service C&O Canal Headquarters, (301) 739-4200.
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River Flows
The Lowdown on Breakdowns
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA Aaron H. Bible
The main innovations on the whitewater side involve size. To combat shrinking
kayaks, manufacturers have switched from standard two-piece paddles to three- and
four-piece shafts, some even with detachable blades. This allows users to fit them into
their sterns, without much sacrifice in quality.
How do you choose one? Begin by looking at the performance of the blade, weight of
the paddle, and durability—the same factors you would look for in a one-piece. Also
look at the ferrules. Will heat or cold affect how the paddle goes together or comes
apart? How much play does it have? And don’t buy the cheapest paddle you can find.
Like Blakeney, you may end up having to use it.
March/April
2000 Adventure Technology/Revealed Water Products
1240 E 2100S, Ste. 400, Salt Lake City, UT 84106; (801) 466-4757,
• Letter from the Editor Fax (801) 485-9622, www.atpaddle.com
• Features Adventure Technology produces some of the most advanced bent-shaft touring and
• River Runner whitewater paddles available. Only one of them, however, is available in one- or
Supplement two-piece design. The Xception Touring paddle in its two-piece form features your
• Eddylines choice of a fixed-feather spring-pin ferrule, or AT’s Friction Lok with infinite feather and
• Hotline five-cm length adjustment. The internal expansion joint on the Friction Lok is one of
• Letter from the ACA the most advanced designs available, eliminating bulky external locking joints and
resulting in a clean union. Simply loosen the joint and retighten it at the desired
• Paddle Tales
position; the joint has almost no play (even as it wears) because of the internal
• First Descents expansion system (which comes with replacement expansion washers). Lengths are
• ECO made to order between 220 and 245 cm with any fixed feather from 0 to 60 degrees.
• Destinations The Xception ($409-435) features a carbon/Kevlar-braided shaft with carbon,
• Gear foam-core blades.
• Skills
Aqua-Bound Technology
• Different Strokes 19077 95A Ave., Surrey, BC V4N 3P9 CN; U.S. Office: 1160 Yew Ave., Blaine, WA
• Flipside 98230; (604) 882-2052, Fax (604) 882-9988, www.aquabound.com
Surrey, B.C.’s Aqua-Bound has been recognized by elite paddlers for years, partly
because of the company’s innovative AMT blade-molding process, producing durable
More from blades for all disciplines. In breakdowns for both whitewater and touring, Aqua-Bound
Gear utilizes a unique four-piece system with equally unique composite thermoplastic (found
to wear much slower than fiberglass) ferrules. Water absorption in the fiber-reinforced
The Lowdown on nylon ferrule is less than in fiberglass, and they feature a series of longitudinal ribs
Breakdowns which promote a tighter fit and allow dirt and salt to lie in the channels between ribs to
What's New in Inflatables
avoid jamming. The four-piece breaks down so small you can carry it in your pocket
and, when assembled, you hardly even know it’s a breakdown. Eleven blade designs
We-no-nah's Rogue are available in one-, two- and four-piece design, and paddlers have a choice of
aluminum, fiberglass or carbon fiber shafts.
Return to Carlisle Paddles
Table of Contents P.O. Box 488, Grayling, MI 49738;
(800) 258-0290, (517) 348-9886,
Fax (517) 348-8242
A leader in plastic and aluminum canoe and kayak paddles for years, Grayling, Mich.’s
Carlisle this year is debuting its new breakdown RS Xtreme. Although not a
breakdown in the true sense of the word, the plastic blades detach from the one-piece
aluminum shaft (32 oz., sealed for flotation) and can be switched out for different types
of paddling. Blades snap-lock in at 60 degrees or in-line, with shafts available in 214,
228, or 244 cm. The lightweight shaft features indexing on a 10-inch right-hand section
with a comfortable heat-shrink rubber grip.
Current Designs
10124 McDonald Park Road, Sidney,
BC V8L 5X6 CN; (250) 655-1822, Fax (250) 655-1596, www.cdkayak.com
Sidney, B.C.’s Current Designs has four styles of touring paddles (fiberglass or
graphite in hand-laid vacuum-bag construction) available in two-piece design, with
each style suiting a different paddling purpose. Current Designs’ paddle
shafts—available straight or bent with oval handgrips—are comfortable to hold, light
as a feather, and easy to orient. They are available in lengths of 212, 216, or 220 cm.
Descente Paddles/Futura Surf Skis
180 Southwood Dr., San Francisco, CA 94112; (415) 586-0331, www.surfskis.com
Descente is a New Zealand manufacturer of wing, whitewater, surf and touring
paddles, imported by San Francisco’s Futura Surf Skis. All of its wing paddles (carbon,
$320) feature two-piece shafts that adjust up to 180 degrees in feather and 8 cm in
length. Also available are slalom, freestyle and touring paddles, with either the
take-apart Descente Quiklok Shaft or Smart Shaft. The Quiklok is positive locking and
“splined” with one-cm length adjustment increments and offset adjustments in
five-degree increments. The Smart Shaft features 10 cm of length adjustment and
offsets of 70, 80, or
90 degrees.
Epic Paddles
6657 58th Ave. NE, Seattle, WA 98115; (206) 523-6306, Fax (206) 524-4888,
www.epicpaddles.com
Olympic sprint kayaker Greg Barton’s Epic Paddles (specialty touring and racing
paddles) feature one of the most technical take apart systems—in one of the lightest
paddles available. The company’s patented Length-Lock adjustable take-apart system
was one
of the first breakdown paddles to feature length adjustment (10 cm) and infinite feather
adjustment, and the system received industry acclaim. It’s still the only adjustable
breakdown touring paddle to be marked for exact adjustment. The Length-Lock
mechanism consists of a threaded set of plastic collars; the inner collar is bonded to
the shaft and allows the ferrule to slide to the desired setting before the outer collar
screws it securely into place. It provides a very solid connection. The Length-Lock is
available on all Epic Wayfarer touring and eXcalibur wing paddles, with a cost $30
more than standard Epic breakdowns ($60 more than one-piece).
Freedom and Harmony Paddles
165 Dancer Drive, Easley, S.C. 29642;
(800) 591-2282, www.freedompaddles.com, www.harmonygear.com
Freedom Paddles is a new line of technical, composite paddles from the revamped
Harmony Accessories Group (a Watermark company). The line includes three choices
in touring and two in whitewater, and all are available with the Freedom TAP
connector, which features Harmony’s patented Crown technology. The crowning on
the shaft ends (in combination with a standard push-button, internal ferrule system)
creates a rock solid connection that lasts for years without play. Whitewater paddles
are available in one-, two- and three-piece versions; touring in one- and two-piece only
(standard construction, $249). In Harmony’s touring line, only the wooden Shearwater
is available in take-apart, and features an external graphite ferrule. In whitewater, all
eight designs are available with the Crown take-apart technology patented by the
company more than 10 years ago.
Lightning Paddles
22800 S. Unger Rd., Colton, OR 97017;
(503) 824-2938, Fax (503) 824-6960, www.paddles.com, lightning@paddles.com
Northwestern paddlers are familiar with Lightning Paddle’s lightness and durability,
attained by compression molding composites. Paddlers pick and choose blade
shapes, colors and materials from a variety of styles and models—all of which
available in breakdown. Prices for both touring and whitewater paddles vary with
materials (all fiberglass, $235), and Lightning sells a breakdown-kit for $29). Paddles
feature fiberglass ferrules and stainless steel push-button technology, with three
feather positions (Whitewater: 60 Right, 0 and 60 Left; Touring: 75 Right, 0 and 75
Left).
Voyageur
P.O. Box 4339, Archale, NC 27263;
(336) 434-7470, Fax: (336)434-6912, www.youcanpaddle.com
Confluence breathed new life into its Voyageur accessory line this year and gave birth
to three hot new touring paddles, all available as breakdowns. The Atlantic (fiberglass
shaft, $125; carbon, $180) is a synthetic, all-around touring paddle featuring
injection-molded Nylite(tm) blades; it’s available with a fiberglass or carbon take-apart
shaft and optional 60-degree feather with right or left control. The new Pacific has the
same construction, features and price points but is designed with a larger blade for
paddlers who like to play in rock gardens and surf. For extended trips or for those who
prefer a little more finesse, try Voyageur’s North Sea, available with an aluminum
(210-cm only), fiberglass, or carbon take-apart shaft. All paddles promise good results
at affordable pricing.
Werner Paddles
P.O. Box 1139, Sultan, WA 98294;
(800) 275-3311, www.wernerpaddles.com
Werner Paddles are an industry standard for well-made, light and durable fiberglass
paddles. With the advent of its Midline kayak series last year, Werner is finally able to
offer a three-piece breakdown for playboaters ($175). Once assembled, it’s as fine a
paddle as any Werner one-piece, fits into a 32-inch space, and features internal
fiberglass ferrules with push-button action and two feather settings. And the push
button placement doesn’t get in the way of your grip. Another innovation from Werner
is its four-piece breakdown for touring (standard $285; color $305, all carbon $420),
developed for the adventure traveler with folding and inflatable kayaks (they’ll fit in the
overhead of most airplanes). Werner premium paddles (five touring styles and four
whitewater styles) are available in one- or two-piece versions, as well as the four-piece
premium touring (standard construction $228, color $248, all carbon $363).
Boreal Design
108 Amsterdam, Ind. Park, St. Augustin, QB G3A 1V9 CN; (418) 878-3099,
Fax (418) 878-3459, www.borealde@quebectel.com, borealde@globetrotter.com
Cadence Paddles
We-no-nah Canoe, P.O. Box 247, Winona, MN 55987; (507) 454-5430,
www.wenonah.com.
Mitchell Paddles
RR 2, Box 922, Canaan, NH 03741;
(603) 523-7004, Fax (603) 523-7363, www.mitchellpaddles.com
Riot Kayaks
3700 St. Patrick Ste. 109, Door 20, Montreal, QB H4E 1A2; (514) 931-0366, Fax (514)
931-4421, www.riotkayaks.com
Keep It Clean
Since ferrules are precisely fit moving parts, treat them with care and give them
regular maintenance—before and after use. When a paddle lies in a boat or is left
apart, ferrules are exposed to water, sand and dust. “When you put your paddle
together,” says Werner’s Patrick “Mojo” Rogers, “you’re putting all those elements in
with the ferrule.” This is can cause breakdown sections to “freeze” themselves
together; or wear down the material and eventually loosen the connection. Rogers
recommends using a Scotch Brite pad to clean the male side of the ferrule, and a pipe
cleaner to clean the female side. WD-40 or 303 Protectant will help prevent rust and
keep things running smoothly.
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River Flows
What's New in Inflatables
Bulletin Boards
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River Flows
Get a Grip-
But Not Just Any Grip
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
Kent Ford
Grip problems can be very subtle and difficult to recognize. First, check the width of
your grip. Your arms should form a 90-degree bend at your elbows. This may feel
awkward, but given time you'll appreciate the power and control it offers. Sliding each
hand in an inch or two is okay, but it limits your power. You may find it advantageous
to choke up on your shaft momentarily, especially for rolls and aggressive playing.
Your shoulders may feel more protected this way. Marking your hand position with a
piece of tape can help you locate your original hand placement.
Avoid gripping the shaft too tightly. Relax the fingers of your top hand during each
stroke. Allow the shaft to rotate freely in your non-control hand. Maintain index with the
forefinger on your control hand, but allow your other fingers to relax. One hand must
release or your grips will be in conflict. If this happens you'll develop a "boxy" style with
limited dexterity.
Old school paddles had an 80- or 90-degree offset, forcing paddlers to learn proper
grip technique to have effective strokes. Newer 45- and 60-degree offset paddles have
eliminated wrist problems for some, but have created problems for others. You still
need a relaxed, non-control hand for all but the most vertical strokes. Many paddlers
grab tightly with both hands, and don't get either blade to bite the water correctly,
limiting power. Others have turned to bent-shaft paddles for forearm relief. Set-up
correctly, these can provide more extension and alleviate arm stain. If the bends are
located too wide, however, the grip can be awkward and inefficient. Be sure to set
yours up correctly. One final note: learn proper bracing and rolling technique to
preserve your shoulders. Consider using smaller blades and a shorter shaft to reduce
torque on your shoulders.
- Author Kent Ford recently released The Kayakers Playbook, a stroke workbook
designed for recreational whitewater paddlers. Find more tips at
www.performancevideo.com.
March/April
2000
• Letter from the Editor
• Features
• River Runner
Supplement
• Eddylines
• Hotline
• Letter from the ACA
• Paddle Tales
• First Descents
• ECO
• Destinations
• Gear
• Skills
• Different Strokes
• Flipside
More from
Skills
Paddle like a Pro
Get a Grip-
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Tips from the field
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA
Editor's note: This is the first installment of a new skills series - written by experts in
the field - designed to provide a variety of hints to use in all paddling disciplines.
Rafting
When loading a raft for an overnight trip, enhance your boat's stability by keeping its
center of gravity low. Stow heavy items like coolers and water jugs toward the bottom,
then secure lighter items like sleeping pads, small gear bags and (of course!) lawn
chairs on top. Also, concentrate the weight toward the middle of your raft to help it
pivot more easily. For a real labor saver, try rigging a "base load" of gear that never
needs to come off, like big coolers and food boxes. Lash these items down by their
handles, if they're sturdy enough, and run separate lines over the tops to secure the
lids. Then lash another layer of camping gear on top. When you get to camp, untie the
top load and the lid lines, but leave the base load strapped in place. Just open the lids
and pick out whatever food you need for that night's camp.
- Bill Cross
Sea Kayaking
Navigating in Fog
Before you make a sea kayak crossing in the fog, take a bearing off the chart. Don't
forget to adjust for magnetic North - add variation on the Atlantic, subtract on the
Pacific. Take a look around at what you do see in the fog: Watch the waves, observe
how the water rushes over rocks and lobster buoys. You'll find clues about currents,
wind speed and tides. Practicing navigation on sunny days is the best way to learn
how much to correct your heading, given varying conditions. So get out there and
practice! And don't forget your compass and watch.
- Natalie Springuel
Whitewater Kayaking
One afternoon, my group came to a horizon line and stopped to scout. Everyone
immediately focused on a log pinned at clothesline height in the main channel.
March/April Thoughts of having heads removed had the group looking at the long portage. Then I
2000 glanced at the drop again and noticed a clean line on river right. I got in and ran it, as
did everyone else. This made me think about a common mistake made scouting:
• Letter from the Editor When faced with a challenge, paddlers often focus on hazards and look where they
• Features don't want to go. While it is critical to recognize hazards, be realistic about whether
• River Runner they play a factor in your line. If you focus only on that feature, you may not see how
Supplement
easily it is avoided.
• Eddylines
• Hotline Once you have committed to running a drop, don't lose focus. When making a difficult
• Letter from the ACA move, keep your energy and eyes directed where you need to go. Don't look over your
shoulder at the consequences of missing your move. Practice by challenging yourself
• Paddle Tales
on easier water. Scout a new line in a familiar rapid and run it. The next time you're on
• First Descents a difficult river, don't let intimidating features distract. Acknowledge their danger and
• ECO then scout the line you need to be on. Focus, paddle and look where you want to go.
• Destinations
• Gear - Aaron Pruzan
• Skills Canoeing
• Different Strokes
• Flipside Choke up for greater efficiency
Strokes such as sweeps, reverse sweeps, stern draws, bow draws and cross bow
draws can be made more efficient by getting the paddle blade farther from the pivot
More from point. Especially in quietwater, choking up is an effective technique for moving your
Skills blade toward the ends of your canoe, and consequently farther from the pivot point.
Paddle like a Pro
The pivot point can be thought of as a boat's center of rotation, or an imaginary fixed
Tips from the field place around which the ends of your canoe will spin. In most solo canoes, if the boat is
level, the pivot point is somewhere between or a little behind the paddler's knees. If a
Get a Grip-
tandem canoe is evenly trimmed, the pivot point is usually between the bow and stern
Habits for Boat Control paddlers.
To choke up, simply move your shaft hand up the shaft toward your grip hand (see
Return to photo). Getting your blade far away from the pivot point during a sweep will turn your
Table of Contents canoe farther, faster, and with less effort. Choking up for a stern draw or a cross bow
draw also moves your canoe with less effort. Add torso rotation to choking up and
you'll have a powerful combination for optimal efficiency
- Mark Molina
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River Flows
Habits for Boat Control
the EJ series
Bulletin Boards
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Eric Jackson
There is more to learning rodeo than time on the water. And although we don't paddle
everyday solely for improvement's sake, we always wish to come off the river feeling
like our paddling is progressing. This article should help.
"The difference between the amateur and professional; the amateur focuses on the
tactics, and the professional focuses on logistics." - Winston Churchill
Rodeo competition is a fun, rewarding way to show off how much you have been
playing. Those who play the hardest tend to do the best in rodeos. You can take it
further by saying: You can measure somebody's rodeo success by the amount of fun
they had paddling. How successful you will be depends on your desire to learn, your
love of the sport, and how often and intense you play. Luckily, a
While doing this, you have to focus on the new moves you're trying to learn. You only
have a certain amount of RAM, meaning you can only focus on a limited number of
things at once. Learning a splitwheel will be impossible unless you can enter the hole,
set up and initiate the bow without much thought. You'll know you're ready when the
waves or holes you're surfing slow down and become manageable. Playing the same
spot over again is the quickest way to see this process in action. Easier moves will
become automatic, freeing you to focus on new techniques. For example, if it is
easiest to spin to set up a cartwheel in a particular hole, you won't be successful if you
need all of your RAM to focus on the spin. If the spin is automatic, you can then focus
on timing your initiation for the cartwheel. If you want to do a five-point cartwheel into a
split, you can forget it if you have to first focus on the spin. To catch up to the best
boaters requires a systematic approach to learning the basics, then layering upon
those skills. Look at Rusty Sage, who at 18 won the Pre-World Championships in New
March/April Zealand against the best boaters of the world. How did he catch up? By practicing the
2000 basics.
• Letter from the Editor Following are a few kayaking rules that will ensure you have the basics to grow your
• Features playboating skills. These rules are designed to prevent you from trying to break the
laws of physics and get frustrated.
• River Runner
Supplement
Lead every turn with your head and body. Your head and body position is the single
• Eddylines most important factor determining your success with today's moves. Here's why: By
• Hotline leading with your head and body, you double the time you can see your target. Your
• Letter from the ACA boat wants to follow your head, and it will only go where you have pointed your upper
• Paddle Tales body. You also have more leverage on your strokes when your body is wound like a
• First Descents spring. Your strokes are in proper position when head and body are leading. It also
• ECO places you ahead of the move.
• Destinations Keep your weight over the boat. Your body weight should be supported by your butt.
• Gear Bracing keeps you from falling over, but you can't do rodeo moves when bracing. The
• Skills need to brace comes from intentionally throwing your weight around. Any body
• Different Strokes movement that gets you off balance should be avoided. Pay attention every time you
• Flipside brace. Almost all braces can be avoided by keeping your weight centered over the
boat.
Examples: Sidesurfing a hole - can you keep your paddle out of the water or do you
More from have to brace on it? You need to be able to sit flat on the water without bracing (weight
Skills over boat, boat flat to water) to progress.
Paddle like a Pro Get a good rodeo boat. Nothing will hinder your ability to learn playboating moves
Tips from the field
more than equipment that can't perform them. Some say, "I'll get a new rodeo boat
once I start learning how to do more moves." This is wrong. Rodeo boats progress so
Get a Grip- quickly because we are trying to make the moves we are now doing, easier, and
Habits for Boat Control
moves we want to do, possible. See you on the river.
- A former member of the U.S. Olympic slalom team, Eric Jackson was the 1997 silver
medallist at the World Rodeo Kayak Championships. Look for more tips in his book,
Return to
Table of Contents EJ's Strokes and Concepts, available from Stackpole Books.
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River Flows
Rodeo, Schmodeo- Exploration is Where It's At
Bulletin Boards
Go to the ACA Scott Lindgren
On scene with NOWR, Jib Jab scans and notices that all of the pimpin' Rodeo Stars
are hangin'. While crossing the street, a train of cars goes flying by.
"We're gonna go run the local gnar gnar upriver." Boat in hand, Jib Jab jumps on,
arriving at the put-in 20 minutes later with 656 of his closest friends. "Sweet, I get to
run the gnar with all my buds," he yells. "I'm so amped up, I can barely control myself."
Jib Jab unloads his Super Freaking River Machine. It's a tri-fin, planing hull,
turbineÜpowered, thruster. The design's a total freakin' rip off but that doesn't matter
because he can pull triple 360 wave wheels.
Walking to the put in, Jib Jab looks over his shoulder and there's Bubble Buddy pulling
a triple cow pow wow off of a double bubble 200 footer. Jib Jab throws him the finger
and heads to the put-in. All the while Loaded Gun is capturing the action on the latest
hi 8 video. D.F.T.O. (Dorks for the Outdoors) takes Jib Jab's ticket as he enters the
rapid arena. Jib Jab, 50th in line and totally stoked, gears up. The river is 2,000 feet
per mile for 50 miles and Jib Jab plans to run it without scouting. Ya! Nobody's done
that before! All the hot chicks will surely flock by the millions and Loaded Gun will bring
the live uncut porn action via the Web: www.getsome.com.
Is this what kayaking is all about? Glam? Not! Rock Stars? Not! Winning a rodeo or
competition? Not! Making it into the next sick flick? Not! It's all crap. Why? Because if
that's why you kayak, you're kayaking for the wrong reasons.
March/April
2000 Kayaking is about exploring the unknown, traveling to exotic places, staying in control.
It's about your mind, your body, your balance and, most importantly, your survival. It's
• Letter from the Editor about ignoring what other people think. It's about being passionate enough to give up
• Features everything in life to experience what echoes - kayaking. It's about pushing the extreme
• River Runner limits of what is personally attainable, anywhere on the globe. It's not about kayaking
Supplement
for the money or for the sake of being recognized, it's simply about wanting to paddle
• Eddylines more than anything else. That is core.
• Hotline
• Letter from the ACA Running a river with my closest friends is far superior to jerking off at the same play
spot or showing up for the local gnar during a competition. It's easy for me to stay
• Paddle Tales
focused where I go because there are no crowds and no one to impress. Rodeo
• First Descents events are boring and overcrowded - give me a wave or a hole that's hard to find or let
• ECO me charge down a river where there are no judges. This is competition amongst
• Destinations nature and I'll let the river be the judge of my ability - not some rodeo judge who tries
• Gear to count how many ends I throw in a weak, overcrowded play spot.
• Skills
- Scott Lindgren is an owner of Driftwood Productions. He recently took fifth place at
• Different Strokes the Nugget Rodeo on the Rogue.
• Flipside
Editor's Note: Have an opinion for Different Strokes? Here's your soapbox to stand on.
Send ideas to Paddler's "Different Strokes," P.O. Box 775450 Steamboat, CO 80477,
More from
or email them to bieline@paddlermagazine.com.
Different
Strokes
Rodeo, Schmodeo-
Exploration is Where It's
At
Playboating Rules
Supreme
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We welcome any comments you may have with our new website format.
● Breakthroughs in Boating
● Eco - Blurbs
● Hotline Blurbs
● Competition Corner
Did we miss anyone? Perhaps. And we're sure you'll let us know who it was. But like the
rivers themselves, this list will always be changing; growing and evolving and shifting
shapes like so many sandy beaches. What we share here is a sampling of those who've
made a difference, 100 from the United States alone, whose head, heart and bow were
always pointed the right direction and who, without even knowing it, took us along for the
ride. The heroes of the next century are already being created. Here's to those who
paved the way.
Richard Bangs
The Awash, Omo, Baro, Blue Nile, Euphrates, Indus, Bio Bio, Zambezi, Yangtze,
Tatshenshini. The list goes on and on. Perhaps no other paddler has more big name first
descents throughout the world than Sobek founder Richard Bangs. Where Powell,
Holmstrom and other pioneers are known for one or two first descents, Bangs has more
than 40, in lands as exotic as Ethiopia, New Guinea and Tasmania. And he’s managed to
make a career of it. Bangs grew up in Bethesda, Md., taking canoe trips down the
Potomac before guiding on the Grand. The international bug bit in 1973 when he went to
Ethiopia to notch a first descent of the Awash, a trip that inspired him to co-found Sobek
Expeditions. As prolific a writer as heis a paddler, Bangs has authored several books,
including Riding the Dragon’s Back, an account of the race to run China’s Yangtze. But
perhaps no river trip meant as much to him as his 1996 journey down Ethiopia’s Tekeze,
documented in his most recent book, The Lost River. “That trip really closed a loop for
me,” says Bangs, of finally paddling the river that eluded him in the ‘70s. It was very
emotional to return after 23 years.”
Gordon Black
It seems like Gordon Black has been teaching paddling in canoes and kayaks since the
invention of water. Long-time head of instruction at Nantahala Outdoor Center, Black
serves on the American Canoe Association Instruction Council and Board of Directors.
Anyone who has ever worked with him has fond memories of his sense of humor, sparse
but clean verbalizations and quick competence. A feared competitor in slalom and
down-river, Black, while maintaining his position as one of the most effective instructors
on the planet, is also mastering the mysteries of the 11-inch chef's knife, fast becoming
one of paddlesport's greatest gourmets.
Walt Blackadar
Until Walt Blackadar, the public’s perception of kayaking was the exciting but genteel
sport of slalom. Blackadar was anything but genteel. In 1971, at the ageof 49, he made
an astonishing solo journey down Turnback Canyon on Alaska's Alsek River, a feat often
compared to the first ascent of Everest. When his Alsek story appeared in Sports
Illustrated, it caused a stir that grew to a clamor. Over the next several years, the
flamboyant doctor took on North America's biggest whitewater, seen by millions on ABC's
American Sportsman–and even in a feature length movie. Old films of Blackadar battling
mammoth waves, towering and crashing over his fragile fiberglass kayak still take one's
breath away. Blackadar died in 1978 on the South Fork of the Payette River in Idaho.
David Brower
"I never ran a boat," says David Brower. " I was always a passenger." But most rafting
passengers don't change the course of river conservation, as Brower did in 1953. At the
time, the Bureau of Reclamation was threaten-ing to build two dams on the Green River
in Dinosaur National Monu-ment. As executive director of the Sierra Club, Brower
mounted a fierce campaign, using rafting trips, films, magazine articles, and a book (This
is Dinosaur) that he sent to every member of Congress. In 1956, Congress voted the
dams down. In 1967, Brower used the same strategy to help prevent the damming of the
Colorado in Grand Canyon. He's also helped defeat dams in Alaska and Quebec and, at
age 87, remains a passionate champion of free-flowing water.
Jim Cassady
Though well known as the author of several popular river guidebooks, including California
Whitewater, Western Whitewater, and, most recently, World Whitewater, Cassady's
biggest contrib-ution to paddling may have come in 1983, when he invented the
self-bailing raft for SOTAR. These rafts changed the sport, opening up new possibilities
for legions of river runners. One of few river rats to progress from kayaking to rafting,
Cassady started taking rafts to "kayak only" Northern California rivers in the late '70s. In
1980, he went to work for outfitter Bill McGinnis and found himself testing many California
rivers for commercial viability. "I had every river runner's dream job," Cassady says. "I
was put in charge of river exploration and got paid to do it."
Marge Cline
Known as every paddler's River Mom, Marge Cline started paddling in 1949 in a dugout
canoe, and has been teaching kayaking and canoeing ever since. Cline has started tens
of thousands of paddlers on their way to a lifetime of fun through a program offered by
the Chicago Whitewater Association, and still finds time to organize "Paddle in the Park"
in suburban Chicago, judge film festivals and teach throughout the country. Cline's love
of paddling was illustrated this spring when, suffering chest pains, she drove herself to
the hospital. After angioplastic surgery, she rested a day and was paddling the next
afternoon.
Harold Deal
If an award was ever given for unsung paddling heros, it could well go to the modest
Harold Deal, 51, of Riverton, Penn. An 18-time Open Canoe National Champion, Deal is
largely credited with inventing “Freestyle” canoeing, where participants paddle
choreographed routines to music. The discipline even has a stroke named after him, the
Hiding Harold. He is also an accomplished designer, inventing such canoes as the
Crossfire (before Dagger used the name for a kayak), and the Dragonfly and Shaman.
He also designed a race paddle for Sawyer Paddles and Oars. Instruction also takes up a
good chunk of his resume, with many of his techniques employed by such canoe icons as
Tom Foster and Bob Foote. In his canoeing instructional video, producer Kent Ford even
thanks Deal for his contributions with an end credit. “He’s very unassuming,” says friend
John Rako. “Most people don’t even know about him.”
Frank Dodge
Frank Dodge was a boatman for the U.S. Geological Surveys in Utah and Arizona the
1930s and later worked as a freelance boatman for just about everyone doing work in the
area. He had a reputation as a very salty character, as evidenced by a letter of apology
he wrote to Norm Nevills in the late '30s. Nevills had come to visit Dodge at Lee's Ferry:
"Sorry I set the dogs on you when you stopped by, Norm, but I was drinking homemade
fig wine and that always makes me mean."
John Dowd
John Dowd had already earned himself a reputation as an extraordinary paddler before
founding Sea Kayaker magazine in 1984. He paddled from Singapore to Java in 1970, hit
1,100 miles of South American coastline for National Geographic in 1973, and paddled
across the Caribbean twice, most recently in 1977 when he led a group of four on a
2,000-mile trip from Venezuela to Florida. "That was quite an epic," he says. "It was very
physically demanding, with lots of close calls. "A former instructor for Outward Bound,
Dowd also founded the Trade Association of Sea Kayaking and once worked as a
commercial scuba diver for oil rigs in the North Sea.
Ann Dwyer
As she celebrates the tenth anni-versary of Kiwi Kayaks, company founder Ann Dwyer
must be rather flattered. "At first people just thought my boats were little toys, not real
kayaks," she says. "But many competitors have since copied the design so I must have
been onto something." Dwyer, now 74, has always prided herself in being an innovator.
She is generally credited with conceiving the idea of short, semi-decked, open-cockpit
kayaks–an industry that has grown to over 350,000 users. "My boats are so
user-friendly," she says. "They allow you to begin at kindergarten and continue through
grad school."
Jib Ellison
The concept of rafting with Russians seemed a pretty outrageous idea in 1987, a time
when relations between the two nations weren't exactly chummy. But Jib Ellison had a
vision, one that placed Americans and Russians together in boats at Siberia's Chuya Raft
Rally in an attempt to work toward peace. "It was the little piece I could contribute to
prevent the holocaust," says Ellison of founding Project RAFT (Russians and Americans
for Teamwork). Taking place at a different country every two years (including Russia,
Costa Rica, the U.S. and Turkey), the project soon grew to bridge barriers between other
nations as well, with more than 700 paddlers participating from countries all over the
world. As well as fostering environmental awareness, participants notched more than 10
first descents in the culture-sharing process.
Bill Endicott
As coach of the U.S. slalom team from 1977-'92, Bethesda, Md.'s Bill Endicott, 54, has
had more influence on the U.S. slalom scene than any other person in the world. A
successful competitor in his own right, with C-2 appearances in the 1971 and '73 World
Championships and a ninth-place showing in the '71 C-2 Wildwater Championships, it is
his coaching that remains his legacy. In his 15 years at the helm of the U.S. Canoe &
Kayak Team, Endicott coached athletes who won 57 medals in World Cup, World
Championship and Olympic competition, 27 of them gold. Never one to steal the
limelight, he naturally downplays his contributions: "We just started getting athletes who
started at a really young age and who could train year-round," he says.
Cully Erdman
While founding Slickrock Adventures in 1977, Moab, Utah's Cully Erdman, 48, was also
busy opening up Mexico to paddling by exploring and kayaking more than a dozen runs
throughout the country, including the postcard-perfect Agua Azul and Jatate. A veteran
river explorer who has participated in films for National Geographic Explorer and
American Sportsman, one of Erdman's crowning moments came in 1979 with a first
descent of Nepal's Arun River, again for American Sportsman. "Although the sport's
changed entirely, there are still people doing exploratory river runs," he says. "That's my
favorite part of the sport."
Bob Foote
Most paddlers met Bob Foote in 1981 when he became one of the first people to run the
Grand Canyon in an open canoe. His articles on rolling and other paddling techniques
also helped him earn a name in the sport, as did his design skills (the Dagger Genesis
and two Loon models from Navaro Canoe Company are his creations). He's designed
whitewater and flatwater canoes, paddles and accessories, and continues to teach, write
and lead Central and South American adventures while maintaining his position as one of
the world's premier paddlers. His videos, including Open Canoeing the Grand Canyon,
are legendary among the big water canoe crowd.
Kent Ford
Kent Ford's paddling career began from his home in Washington, D.C., as a C-1 Slalom
racer. He won his first National Championship title and placed seventh in his first World
Championships in 1977. For the next 10 years he would call Bryson City, N.C., home,
allowing him to compete while working as Head of Instruction at the Nantahala Outdoor
Center. It was this transition from competitor to instructor that solidified Ford's place in
the history of paddlesports. Ford's company, Durango, Colo.-based Performance Video,
is now one of the world's top producers of instructional books and videos. "I've been able
to gather expertise from across the industry,” he says, “looking for the positives in
different people's viewpoints.”
Tom Foster
Tom Foster, a former outdoor recreation instructor at Greenfield College, left academia to
found a tech- nical paddling school called the Outdoor Center of New England. Long-time
Chair of the American Canoe Association's National Instruc- tion Committee, Foster
developed the theory-based presentation of paddling, whose emphasis on biomech-anics
helped reshape modern paddling. Foster's insistence on high standards with in-service
training honed instructor corps throughout the country. Co-author of Catch Every Eddy,
Surf Every Wave, Foster designs OC1s and leads whitewater trips in Costa Rica. A
master chef, Foster also brings the precision of his stroke to the cutting board.
Ralph Frese
A blacksmith who loves paddling, Ralph Frese operates a smithy and a specialty canoe
shop in Chicago, just a few hundred yards from where Joliet must have passed on his
way down the Mississippi in 1673. Frese also manufac-tures composite re-creations of
Voyageur canoes and has designed a series of modern tripping canoes. He is a serious
historian of his sport, with 4,000 book titles and a collection of over 100 canoes. His
ambition is to live long enough to read all his books. Frese says he will donate his
accumulations to the Chicago Maritime Museum to initiate a national canoe and kayak
collection. Frese ushered in the new canoeing
millennium leading a New Year's Day paddle on the
upper Chicago River.
Nathaniel Galloway
Next time you row backwards and ferry upstream
above a big rapid, you can thank Nathaniel
Galloway. It was Galloway who first applied the
principle of facing the danger, and he was the first
to run rapids confidently instead of paddling them
with fear. Contrary to the accepted practice of the
time, he faced his boat downstream, using the oars
to position himself for the best run. Galloway also
designed his own boats, light skiffs about 14 feet
long, flat-bottomed, with a pronounced curve fore
and aft. The Galloway boat became the standard
river craft until the advent of inflatable rafts at the end of World War II. A friend once
remarked that all Galloway needed to successfully run a boat was "a heavy dew."
Stewart Gardiner
On Oct. 23, 1938, Stewart Gardiner took a folding
kayak bought from a catalog and put in at Hideout
Flat on the Green River. He had no problems with
Ashley Falls, but just below Red Creek Rapid he
lost his spare paddle, which would come back to
haunt him. In Whirlpool Canyon, Gardiner capsized
on a sleeper rock, lost his paddle, and came close
to drowning when he discovered that his lifejacket
was defective and wouldn't keep him afloat. He
carved a new paddle out of driftwood and made his
way out of the canyons without further trouble. The
next year, Gardiner made a folding boat trip down
the Middle Fork of the Salmon.
Ed Gillet
Long-distance sea-kayaker Ed Gillet has no
concept of starting slow. "The first time I paddled a kayak I went 600 miles from San
Felipe to La Paz," he says. A year later Gillet paddled solo from Glacier Bay, Alaska, to
Seattle, following that jaunt with a tour from San Diego to Cabo San Lucas and that one
with a 4,500-mile journey along the South American coastline. An experienced sailor,
Gillet credits his knowledge of open water navigation skills for helping him complete a
1987 63-day journey from Monterey, Calif., to Hawaii, during which he ran out of food and
subsisted on toothpaste. Why the long trips? "I was never trying to make a mark," Gillet
says from his San Diego home. "I just have a high tolerance for boredom and suffering."
Sheri Griffith
During high school in the late '60s, Sheri Griffith and her brother started a rafting
business in Steamboat Springs, Colo., exploring such now-famous waterways as Gore
Canyon and the Arkansas. In 1971, she moved to Moab, Utah, and founded Sheri Griffith
River Expeditions, where she has spent the past 29 years. "The one-day trips weren't
doing it for me," Griffith says. "I wanted to make a difference in the world–to take people
out and enhance their lives." In the mid '80s Griffith was elected the first woman president
of the Western River Guides Association, where she helped create America Outdoors,
giving the guiding community from East and West a common voice in Washington.
Bart Hauthaway
Bart Hauthaway was a world-class slalom competitor in the ‘60s and such a student of
the sport he later became the U.S. Olympic Coach in the same event. He won several
national championships in canoe sailing, and convinced Old Town Canoe to manufacture
variations of the Adirondack pack canoe he developed. Short, open-topped and paddled
with a double paddle, Hauthaway’s pack canoes started the movement towards the
open-cockpit recreational kayaks growing today’s industry.
Jim Henry
Jim Henry’s Mad River Malecite won prizes as an art object. Thirty years later, as part of
Confluence’s Mad River Canoe line, it’s on everyone’s list of top 10 canoes of all time.
Henry won races, took trips to far northern rivers, wrote about them and took compelling
photographs. He designed and molded the first Royalex touring canoes and was the first
laminator to use Kevlar. Racer, tripper, designer, photo-grapher and engineer, Henry
started Mad River Canoe in a garage in ‘72 and was the country’s second largest canoe
builder within a decade.
Lars Holbek
With as many as 70 first descents in the Sierras, Chile, British Columbia, Mexico and
Costa Rica, California's Lars Holbek, 41, has pioneered more waterways than perhaps
any other kayaker. Starting his exploits in 1978 with Richard Montgomery and Chuck
Stanley, and continuing full swing until 1986, he has paddled enough new rivers to write a
book, which he has with the third edition of Whitewater Guide to California and a recent
guidebook on Chile. And he is still at it. This year alone he notched two more first
descents within two hours of his home in Coloma, Calif. "I've dabbled in the sport's other
disciplines," he says, "but the first-descent, cutting-edge scene is what I like most."
Buzz Holmstrom
In November of 1937, Buzz Holmstrom, an
unknown service station attendant from the tiny
logging town of Coquille, Ore., made headlines
across the country by navigating over a thousand
miles of the rapid-strewn Green and Colorado
Rivers in a boat he designed and built himself. He
spent the previous three years designing and
building whitewater boats in which he soloed the
Rogue and Salmon rivers. How he came to have
the boatbuilding or river running skills, or even the
desire to do such things, remains unclear. His
unexplainable death at 37 intensifies his mystery.
Skip Horner
After a few seasons in the Grand Canyon in the
early '70s, Skip Horner set out to see the world's rivers and mountains. He joined Sobek
for the first complete descent of the Bio Bio in 1979, and followed that with first descents
of the Zambezi, Coruh, Yangtze, Yarkand and Gilgit-Indus, plus others in New Guinea,
Madagascar, Nepal, India and elsewhere. "Rich Bangs and John Yost always inspired
me with their energy and creativity," Horner says, "but they always left the serious rowing
to us." When Horner moved on to mountain-eering, he became the first person to guide
the "Seven Summits"–the highest peak on each continent.
Cliff Jacobson
With 16 books in print and hundreds of articles penned, Cliff Jacobson is the most
published paddling author of the twentieth century. He is also an accomplished
wilderness canoe guide, leading trips to northern rivers for the Science Museum of
Minnesota. Jacobson's interest and persistence were major factors in the re-development
of the solo open canoe. Jacobson teaches Environmental Science to middle school
students and has developed programs on water quality, wilderness meals and wilderness
experience for challenged youth. All are used in middle schools nationally. A popular
speaker at paddling events around the world, Jacobson puts on stellar shows while
gently promoting "Leave No Trace" camping.
Gene Jensen
Gene Jensen is largely responsible for a revolution in the way recreational canoes were
designed. What Jensen did was take the skills he'd learned designing marathon racers
and apply them to the average family touring canoe, making paddling easier for
everyone. "Nobody wants to take two strokes to go someplace they can go in one," he
says. "Experimentation is the key when it comes to design. You have to keep an open
mind." Jensen not only brought a new sophis-tication to recreational canoes, he's also
the inven-tor of the bent shaft paddle.
Bunny Johns
Long-time competitor Bunny Johns has won her share of medals and races over the
years, including the 1981 mixed doubles competition at the Wildwater World
Championships with partner Mike Hipshire. But she still feels her strongest asset is
teaching. "It was a career highlight for me when I became good enough to teach and it is
still a thrill for me to help others achieve their paddling goals," she says. As a long-time
leader and current president of North Carolina's Nantahala Outdoor Center, Johns has
had a strong influence on thousands of paddlers and was one of the lead consultants for
the '96 Olympics on the Ocoee.
Tom Johnson
The year was 1938–Orson Wells was scaring the
country with his Martian invasion dramatization and
Tom Johnson was building canoes. Johnson went
on to make the first fiberglass canoe, in 1942, and
design the first rotomolded plastic kayak, the "River
Chaser," for Hollow- form in 1974. The next year he
started whitewater racing and went on to win
national championships in K-1, OC-2 and C-2
Masters slalom. Despite his success as a designer
and racer, Johnson lists his coaching
accomplishments as some of his greatest
achievements. Now 81, Johnson still paddles and
instructs on a regular basis. "Had a lesson this
morning," he said in October. "It was great being
out there."
John Kazimierczyk
Called the "Jon Lugbill" of open canoeing, John "Kaz" Kazimierczyk came on the open
canoe slalom racing scene in 1981. By 1989, he was Open Canoe National Champion
and other than 1991 (when it went to friendly rival Kent Ford), he has dominated the
event, winning it 10 times. In addition to slalom, he is a three-time Downriver National
Champion and has won a whopping 68 national titles. Now living in Weare, N.H., with his
wife, Linda (a well known instructor in her own right), he owns Millbrook Boats and is
responsible for designing and building the majority of the hottest slalom open canoes in
today's market.
Payson Kennedy
Playing the stunt double for Burt Reynolds in Deliverance would garner anyone inclusion
in a listing of Paddlers of the Century. But Nantahala Outdoor Center founder Payson
Kennedy has laurels that go far beyond Deliverance. Kennedy began his paddling career
about as far away from his current base as he could be without leaving the country. He
was stationed in Washington State in the 1950s where he bought a folding kayak and
began hitting countless waterways in the Northwest. He founded NOC at its present site
in North Carolina in 1972 with Horace Holden, at which time it was a combination motel,
restaurant, store and outfitting business. A couple years later Kennedy started racing,
eventually winning the national championship in C-2 six times between '74 and '84. NOC
now employees more than 400 people, but Kennedy still gets out on occasion to guide a
trip.
Peter Kennedy
A former freestyle skier and rock band drummer, Peter Kennedy has dedicated his life to
teaching kids to achieve top internat-ional levels in slalom, rodeo and extreme kayaking.
Develop-ing the "Quadrant Theory" of teaching kayaking to kids, Kennedy founded
Woodstock, Vt.'s Adventure Quest, a top residential summer, primary and secondary
school emphasizing outdoor adventure. Kennedy also is a junior Olympic Coach for
USACK and serves on the American Canoe Association Instruction Council.
Walter Kirschbaum
As a teenager with a fondness for paddling, Walter Kirschbaum was drafted into the
German military at age 15, only to be captured by the Russian army and released six
years later in 1950. He quickly started paddling again, winning the slalom World
Championships in K-1 in 1955. Moving to the U.S. in 1957 and teaching kayaking for the
Colorado Rocky Mountain School in Carbondale, Colo., he turned his attention to the
region's first descents, most of which he ran in homemade boats. "His goal was to run
every significant piece of whitewater in the Colorado drainage," says guidebook author
Fletcher Anderson. He did a good job. In 1959, he became the first person to run the
Colorado's Cataract Canyon without portaging, and in 1960 he accomplished the same
feat on the Grand Canyon. Modern-day paddlers witness his namesake on Kirschbaum
rapid of the Colorado's Gore Canyon, which he notched the first descent of in 1965. He
came to a tragic end when he drowned in his bathtub in New Mexico in 1969.
Verlen Kruger
Verlen Kruger is the world record holder for long distance paddling, with an excess of
88,000 miles and more than 40 million paddle strokes under his belt. That, of course,
includes his 21,000-mile, three-year, top-to-bottom world canoe paddle at the age of 64,
and a 28,000-mile paddle across North America. With those kinds of numbers you might
expect a paddling prodigy, but Kruger didn't even set foot in a canoe until he was 41. "It
was a 17-foot Grumman," says Kruger, on pace to log 100,000 miles in a canoe by the
time he turns 80. "And it just grabbed me. From that point on my lifelong passion was
canoeing." Today, the Lansing, Mich.-based paddling legend spends most of his time
building custom canoes and on shorter trips–including a recent 400-mile paddle in
Alaska.
Howie LaBrant
By 1964 Howie LaBrant was a regular on the Chicago paddling circuit, winning every leg
of the 10-day, 450-mile race from Lake Itasca to Minneapolis in a plywood
canoe–high-kneeling the whole way. The same year he helped found the United States
Canoe Association. His essay "The Principles of Canoe Design," published in the 1962
Whitewater Journal, was the beginning of modern, performance canoeing. LaBrant
designed the Canadian for Chicagoland Canoe Base and the legendary Viper and
Venom for Moore Canoe. A great athlete and visionary designer who influenced Lynn
Tuttle, Ralph Frese, Pat Moore and David Yost, he carried his passion with him to the
bitter end, dying of a heart attack while delivering canoes.
Rob Lesser
One of the finest expeditionary paddlers in the country, Rob Lesser is also known as an
outstanding ambassador of the sport and a tireless advocate of free-flowing rivers.
Lesser organized the first descent of Canada's Grand Canyon of the Stikine in 1981, a
year after helping organize the Payette Rodeo–generally considered, along with the
Stanley, Idaho, rodeo in the late '70s–to be the genesis of the modern freestyle circuit.
Lesser worked for years as a sales rep for Perception kayaks, helping create the modern
retail trade of paddlesports. "My time in Alaska really defined the type of river-runner I
became," Lesser says. "My work with Perception certainly had a larger impact on the
sport, but the Stikine trip, from a mental standpoint, is probably my biggest
accomplishment.”
Martin Litton
Martin Litton rowed his first wooden boat through
the Grand Canyon in 1955. It was Litton who
adapted the Oregon Drift Boat to big water,
enlarging it, decking it over, and creating the
commodious Grand Canyon Dory. Litton has been
a tireless crusader for the canyons, mountains,
rivers and forests of the West. As a director of the
Sierra Club, it was Litton’s fiery speech that helped
prevent two planned dams in the Grand Canyon. In
1999, Litton once again broke his own record as
the oldest person to ever navigate the Grand. At 82
he’s still rowing his dory and planning his next trip.
Asked why he prefers the rigid boat, he replies: “If
you have to ask, you’ll never understand.”
Tom Long
One of the foremost innovators of instruction for kids, Tom Long has been teaching
children to kayak for more than 20 years. He starting kayaking in Southern California and
paddled throughout the West before settling in Idaho and founding Cascade Raft and
Kayak School. A talented guide and businessman, Long is known for what he brought to
instruction, especially for kids. "I combined river running skills and my desire to teach,
with early childhood education and slalom technique," Long says. "When my kids were
young (Long has three boys, Kenneth, Chad and Tren, all excellent paddlers), people
used to say ‘You can’t teach kids to kayak, it’s impossible.’ Now there’s kids’ boats, kids’
life jackets, kids’ everything."
Yurek Majcherczyk
Twenty years ago, when martial law was declared in his native Poland, Yurek
Majcherczyk spent over a year and a half on a personal river-running odyssey with
friends
Bill Masters
Ask anyone who started kayaking in the '70s or '80s what their first boat was, and
Perception will invariably come up in the answer followed by such boat names as the
Mirage and Dancer. Founding his company in 1976 in a garage, 22-year company
president Bill Masters, 49, is indirectly responsible for getting more people involved in the
sport than any-one else in the world. In keeping with his track record, he can't resist an
analogy to paddling as he moves on to other ventures after selling the company in 1998.
"Paddlesports helped mold who I am," he says. "It's been a good ride and I've enjoyed
it...now I'm just going out to run another river."
Tom McEwan
Known for his pioneering first descent of the Potomac River's Great Falls in 1975, as well
as several first descents in the Himalayas, former U.S. Kayak Team member Tom
McEwan, 53, is as hard core as paddlers come. "He knows no other life," says Todd Balf,
a writer for Men's Journal who covered McEwan's ill-fated first descent down Tibet's
TsangPo Gorge in 1998. A paddling instructor in the Washington, D.C., area since
1972–most recently with the Calleva School of paddling–McEwan, the national wildwater
champion in 1973, has influenced such modern-day paddlers as Andy Bridge, John
Weld, Joe Jacobi, Norm Bellingham and Elliot Weintraub. And paddling runs in the family.
His younger brother, Jamie, won the bronze at the 1972 Olympics in C-1, and son
Andrew is the number one ranked wildwater paddler in the country.
Bill McGinnis
When Bill McGinnis wrote Whitewater Rafting in 1975–the same year he founded his
rafting company, Whitewater Voyages–the sport, as a commercial endeavor, was still in
its infancy. When his second book, The Guide's Guide was published in 1981, it helped
shape the way boatmen look at a trip and a lifestyle. McGinnis learned to guide in 1965 at
the age of 16, and though he has a number of first descents and pioneering raft runs in
California to his credit, McGinnis says it is this influence on guiding that he is most proud
of. "I helped foster a style of guiding that got everyone involved," he says. "It made
everyone a component of the overall trip."
Norm Nevills
Norm Nevills got his start river running when he rowed his bride down the San Juan River
in a modified horse trough. In the years that followed, he designed and built plywood
punts and ran hundreds of commercial trips down the San Juan and through Glen
Canyon on the Colorado. What he is best known for, however, are his Grand Canyon
trips. From his first trip in 1938 until his untimely death in 1949, Nevills was the
unquestioned king of commercial river running. His effervescent personality and hunger
for publicity brought him renown in the West, yet it was that same charisma that finally
repelled some of his most ardent admirers. To this day, few have a neutral opinion of
Norm Nevills.
Tim Niemier
Sick of getting pounded by the Malibu coast on his surfboard, Tim Niemier, now 48, came
up with an invention that changed the sport. By putting depressions in a surfboard and
developing perhaps the world's first sit-on-top kayak in the early '70s, Niemier, founder of
Ocean Kayak, helped introduce kayaking to the recreational masses. "There wasn't a
lightbulb that clicked on or anything," he says. "I was just sick of getting hit over the head
with waves." By 1986, he had built more than 1,200 such boats out of fiberglass before
coming up with a rotomolded version. Ever the tinkerer, he operated the oven with his
garage door opener.
Tim Palmer
Nobody has put pen to paper more eloquently to protect our waterways than Tim Palmer.
Author of 10 books on river conservation, Palmer first fell in love with rivers as a
12-year-old on the Youghiogheny and since then has spent most of his life fighting for
their protection. His first big battle was against a proposed dam on California's Stanislaus
in the early '80s. The fight was lost and Palmer says, "I came out with a resolve not to let
it happen again." Winner of the Lifetime Achievement award from American Rivers in
1988, Palmer sits on the Board of Trustees for the Portland, Ore.-based River Network.
Roger Paris
One of few paddlers to move from canoeing to kayaking and remain competitive, Roger
Paris (pronounced "Rogét Pear-ree") placed second in C-2 with partner Claude Neveu at
the 1949 World Championships and took first in 1951 and '55, paddling for France. After
moving to the U.S. and settling down in Carbondale, Colo., in the early '60s, Paris
(admitting "he's now over 60,") switched to kayaking, competing for the U.S. at the World
Champion-ships in 1965 and winning three U.S. nationals. Perhaps his biggest
contribution to the sport, however, is in helping others as a long-time instructor for the
Colorado Rocky Mountain School. "He's famous for teaching by the school of hard
knocks," says friend Kent Ford. "He influenced quite a few people who then moved on to
share their knowledge in other parts of the country."
Royal Robbins
When Royal Robbins was diagnosed with arthritis in the mid-'70s, he took up kayaking
and attacked it with the same vengeance that earned him fame as a climber. At an age
when many are looking to retire, Robbins switched from rocks to rivers, eventually
completing over 30 first descents in California and Chile. From 1980 to 1984, Robbins
scored first descents on several major Sierra Nevada waterways, including the San
Joaquin, South Fork and Upper Kern, Middle Fork of the Kings, and Yosemite's Grand
Canyon of the Tuolumne. Robbins was also one of the first Americans to raft and kayak
Siberia's Bashkaus River in 1988.
Harry Roberts
In between stints as editor of Wilderness Camping, Canoesport Journal and Paddler,
Harry Roberts served as marketing head for Hyperform and Sawyer. He held his
editorships as a community trust, nurturing many new writers, including Cliff Jacobson.
Roberts was a renaissance man in a time of specialists: an athlete, a man of letters, a
builder and salesman, a family man and a community man. A spellbinding speaker and
fixture at paddlesports events nationwide, he promoted a marathon-based paddling style
he termed Touring Technique. The industry lost a leader with his untimely death in 1992.
Ralph Sawyer
Ralph Sawyer dominated early marathon racing. He was so unbeatable in the Ausable
Marathon in upper Michigan it was assumed he had secret portages on the oxbows.
Sawyer Canoe, started in 1957, was one of the first manufacturers of cloth laminated,
high performance canoes. He designed and built successful recreational and race
canoes before moving to Oregon's Rogue River in 1967. Sawyer crafted
fiberglass-reinforced wooden canoe paddles and later devel-oped laminated rowing oars
for rafts that were more appropriate to the Rogue. An innovator in competition and canoe
paddle and oar building, Sawyer now lives on a sailboat in Anacortes, Wash.
Jim Slade
Jim Slade has probably logged more exploratory miles than any human alive, and he's
still going. In the early '70s he rafted Mexico's Rio Grande de Santiago, and found himself
being shot at by bandits. It was the beginning of a lifetime of exotic rafting adventures.
Soon afterwards he joined Sobek, and the ill-fated Baro Expedition in Ethiopia. While
most other team members abandoned the trip after a drowning, Slade showed his mettle
and kept going. He emerged a leader in a field of independent souls, and has led scores
of expeditions since. His knack for detailed planning and logistics, quick thinking, and
unbridled passion for wild rivers, has made him a legend in whitewater rafting.
Chris Spelius
Chris "Spe" Spelius, 47, has a 25-year river resume that includes stints as a rodeo
competitor, kayak designer, Olympian and 10-year instructor for the Nantahala Outdoor
Center. He also holds the prestigious, although illegal, first descent of the Niagara Gorge
in 1976. Perhaps his biggest claim to fame, however, is as an all-around ambassador for
the sport, which he accomplishes through his kayak outfitting company on Chile's Rio
Futaleafu and by guest appearances through sponsor Dagger at paddling events
throughout the country.
Jim Stohlquist
As founder of Stohlquist Water Ware, Jim Stohlquist sounds like just another success
story in the paddlesports industry. But factor in that he built his first folding boat at the
age of 15, his first fiberglass kayak at the age of 17, and that he founded Colorado Kayak
Supply to help pay his way through college. Also factor in that he continued to build boats
throughout the early '70s, fueling Colorado's early whitewater craze, and that he notched
several first descents that are now considered classics, and you start to see that he isn't
just your regular businessman. Stohlquist is also the author of Colorado Rivers and
Creeks, a book he wrote in the ‘70s after gathering years of hands-on experience.
Audrey Sutherland
When Hawaii's Audrey Sutherland flew over the coast-line of Molokai in 1967, she
decided she wanted to see the rugged 3,400-ft. cliffs of the island up close. After a couple
exploratory swimming trips, she bought an inflatable six-foot canoe and began her
paddling career. Over 8,000 paddling miles later, Sutherland is still at it, and considers
any trip less than 300 miles to be short. Author of Paddling Hawaii, Sutherland has also
put in many of her miles in Alaska, usually solo. "I'm like the whales," she says. "I spend
the winter in Hawaii and the summer in Alaska."
Joy Ungritch
Joy Ungritch was a pre-eminent woman river explorer, who partici-pated in such Sobek
first descents as Pakistan's Indus and Africa's Zambezi rivers. Her fortitute, as
remembered by Sobek founder Richard Bangs, showed itself on the Indus when the raft
they were in got stuck in a huge hydraulic. "Though she was a tiny woman, she put so
much energy and heft into the effort to get us out that I think she saved our lives," he
says. Utah's Ungritch went on to run her own expeditions, including a first all-woman's
descent of the Luangua River in Zambia, before passing away four years ago. "She was
an extraordinary spirit and loved rivers to her core," says Bangs.
Charlie Walbridge
Before selling the company in 1994, Charlie Walbridge operated Wildwater Design in
suburban Philadelphia, an industry leader in outfitting design. During that time, he also
served on the Board of American Whitewater (AW) and the American Canoe Association
(ACA), and was integral to each organization's instructional programs. A renowned safety
expert, Walbridge co-authored Whitewater Rescue, The River Safety Anthology, helped
develop the ACA's Swiftwater Rescue Program, and continues to compile AW's annual
Accident Overview Report, helping people learn from other's mistakes. If you trust your
paddling partners to help when needed, thank Walbridge.
Ken Warren
With a burning desire to be the first to run China's Yangtze River, Ken Warren made two
trips to the famed Asian waterway. The last one, in 1986, ended in mutiny after the
controversial death of the expedition photographer. Warren took criticism from many for
his leadership tactics and his ego, but there's no discounting his accomplishments. "Ken
was an incredibly strong and incredibly determined boatman," says Oregon's Andy
Griffith, who joined Warren on the first descent of India's Ganges River in 1977, which
was filmed for American Sportsman. "And he was as good as anyone in the world when
he was running rivers." Warren died of a heart attack in 1989 while mowing his lawn.
John Wasson
When Hollywood needs a paddling scene, or when organizations like the X Games need
rigging advice, the first phone calls placed are to Idaho's John Wasson. The main safety
and rigging expert for such films as A River Runs Through It and The River Wild,
Wasson, 49, got his start rafting in Colorado in 1969. After switching to kayaking and
running the classics of Colorado and Idaho, in 1977 he got invited on a 32-day
self-support trip down Peru's Maraòon. "That's what got me hooked on paddling in wild,
exotic places," he says. A year later, he joined such expedition paddlers as Matt Gaines,
Cully Erdman and Rob Lesser for a film project with American Sportsman on the Yampa
River's Cross Mountain Canyon, which cemented his love affair with films and floating.
George Wendt
A former Los Angeles schoolteacher, George Wendt spent summers on the Grand
Canyon and secured one of the Grand's early commercial permits. After hearing about a
river up north called the Stanislaus, he and his wife moved to Angels Camp, Calif., and
founded Outdoor Adventure River Specialists (O.A.R.S.). The company ran more than
3,000 people down the "Stan" each summer until it was buried under New Melones
Reservior in the early '80s. Wendt was convinced the dam went in because not enough
people had seen the beauty of the river, so he swore he'd show people other important
rivers, opening up commercial rafting in many places he felt were important to protect.
Georgie White
The Grand Canyon's most famous raft guide,
Georgie White–also known as Georgie
Clark–began running the Grand in 1944, eventually
making more than 200 trips down the Big Ditch.
Georgie was founder of the "wave-buster," a
35-person raft she often guided in her famous
leopard-skin bikini. "Georgie was a tough bird,"
says Ted Hatch, owner of the Grand Canyon
division of Hatch Expeditions. "She was
one-of-a-kind." Hatch recalls one time in the early
'60s when he stole one of Georgie's favorite
campsites only to get mooned by all 35 of her
passengers. Georgie swam more than 80 miles
through the Grand Canyon in 1945, wearing little
more than a life jacket. She sold her rafting
company just six months before her death on May 12, 1992, ending a career that
spanned three and a half decades.
Nolan Whitesell
"I don't know when I started paddling but it was before I was 10 years old," says canoe
builder and open-boat pioneer Nolan Whitesell. Whitesell, now 46, lives on North
Carolina's Nantahala River where he builds paddles and whitewater canoes and gives
private instruction. Besides claiming some of the hairiest open-boat first descents in the
country, Whitesell has contributed in other ways to the paddling world. "I believe I'm
known for having opened up design ideas in canoes and making them playboats," he
says. "Before that, canoes were used only for transportation and racing."
Jesse Whittemore
If Jimmy Snyder is the father of squirtboating, then Jesse Whittemore is the grandfather.
Whittemore brought about a revolution in boat design and technique that inspired not only
squirtboats, but playboating in general. He is also a pioneer in the construction and use
of laminates such as Kevlar in fiberglass boats. "He's an amazing craftsman," says
Mountain Surf founder and long-time friend John Mason. "Jesse is the link between the
racing world of boating and the recreation world of boating. You just learn so much every
time you paddle with him."
Alfred Wickett
Alfred who? Though long forgotten in contemporary paddling circles, Alfred Wickett is
largely responsible for the first commercially produced canvas-covered canoe. As the first
designer, chief builder and operations manager for Old Town Canoe from 1900 to 1914,
Wickett helped build both a company and an industry. After leaving Old Town, Wickett
founded the Penobscot Canoe Company and, in 1922, moved to St. Louis to open the St.
Louis Boat and Canoe Company. Using his 35 years of canoe building experience,
Wickett invented the Arrowhead Canoe, one of the most popular models of the time.
Wickett died in 1943 and his gravestone in Kirkwood, Missouri, bears a carving of a
canoe.
David Yost
Known to paddlers everywhere as DY, David Yost designed his first racing canoe, the
Minuteman, in 1973, and was soon designing for Sawyer. Deals with Tubbs, Curtis, Loon
Works, Perception, Swift and Bell Canoe followed. Fifty-six hulls reaching production by
seven manufacturers make Yost the century's most prolific designer of human-powered
watercraft. A student of historical boats and the effect of materials on design, Yost
continues to design for construction in wood strip, wood and fabric, laminated plastic,
vacuum forming and rotomolding. Yost's designs emphasize seakindlyness and
user-comfort over speed. He describes his work as an out-of-hand hobby of designing
hulls for friends.
John Yost
John Yost was involved in most of the great first descents of the '70s and '80s, including
the Zambezi, the Indus, the Euphrates and the Yangtze. Yet he has maintained the
lowest of profiles. He never carried a camera or a notebook, always believing the purest
way to run a river was to be completely there with it, not to see it through a lens, or
interpret it with a journal. He was never motivated by money (well, there was that time on
the Zambezi he was offered $500 by the ABC exec- utive to flip a boat, and he did, but no
one ever knew if it was on pur- pose). Yost has carried clarity of purpose in his dry bag
for 30 years.
Olympic Paddlers
Greg Barton
What can we say about 39-year-old sprint kayaker Greg Barton, the most successful
Olympic paddler in U.S. history? We'll let his accomplishments do the talking. A member
of four consecutive Olympic teams, Barton won the bronze in K-1 1,000 in 1984 and
1992. It was at the 1988 Games, however, that he stole the show, winning the gold in K-1
1,000 and then coming back 90 minutes later to team with Norm Bellingham to win the
gold in K-2 1,000. No other athlete has won both 1,000-meter titles in a single Olympics,
and no American paddler has won two Olympic golds in an Olympic Games at all. "Greg
Barton's the best paddler in the world," maintains long-time adversary Lee McGregor of
South Africa.
Norm Bellingham
The highlight of 35-year-old sprint paddler Norm Bellingham's career occurred at the
1988 Olympics in Seoul when, teaming with Greg Barton, he won the gold in men's K-2
1,000. The three-time Olympian (1984, '88 and '92) closed out his sprint stint with a
fourth-place finish in K-1 500 at the '92 Olympics in Barcelona. A double gold medalist at
the 1987 Pan American Games, the Fairfax, Va., native enjoyed his best World
Championships performance with a third-place finish in 1988 in Germany.
Dana Chladek
After her first run at the 1996 Olympics on Tennessee's Ocoee River, kayaker Dana
Chladek was in a dismal second- to-last place. What followed is nothing short of
miraculous. Putting it all on the line on her second run, she tied the winner to the nearest
hundredth of a second. Although she had to settle for the silver, her time was good
enough for the gold. Combined with a bronze medal at the '92 Olympics in Barcelona,
she is the top slalom Olympic medal winner is U.S. history. Add two silver-medal finishes
at World Championships and it's easy to see why she is now happily retired from
competition, raising a family and running her Rapidstyle paddling apparel business in
Kensington, Md.
Mike Harbold
By winning the 1993 Finlandia Clean Water Challenge, a 1,000-mile stage race from
Chicago to New York City, Hawaii's Mike Harbold, 31, proved himself a member of sprint
paddling's elite. The fact that he has also appeared in three Olympic Games (1988, '92
and '96) further cements his place among the sport's finest.
Davey Hearn
A member of the U.S. team since 1977, Bethesda, Md.'s Davey Hearn, 41, enjoys one of
the longest-running canoe and kayak team tenures of any paddler, alive or dead.
Highlights include Olympic C-1 appearances in 1992 and '96, as well as gold medal C-1
performances at the World Championships in 1985 and 1995. He was also named 1995's
"Top 10 Sportsmen of the Year" by the U.S. Olympic Committee. With the 2000 Games
on the horizon, he is showing no signs of letting up. "I'm going to keep doing this as long
as I'm still having fun," he says.
Cathy Hearn
As with her brother Davey, slalom kayaker Cathy Hearn has put in more than 20 years on
the U.S. Kayak team, with Olympic appearances in 1992 and '96. Far from lying in the
slalom shadow of her brothers (brother Bill is also an accomplished slalom paddler), one
of her crowning moments came in 1979 when she won the gold at the World
Championships, and won three of four possible golds in every event she entered. One of
the most diligent female kayakers on the slalom scene, she has her sights set on Sydney
in 2000.
Eric Jackson
Perhaps best known for his exploits on the current rodeo scene–winning a gold medal at
the 1993 World Championships in Tennessee, breaking his ribs in the '95 finals in Munich
and placing second in '97 in Ontario–Washington, D.C.'s (when he's not traveling in his
motorhome) Eric Jackson, also an accomplished C-1 paddler, is one of the most versatile
kayakers on the planet. A member of the U.S. slalom team since 1989, he was the
top-placing U.S. kayaker in the 1992 Olympics in Spain, taking 13th, and he won the U.S.
slalom national championships in 1995. "Slalom and rodeo are similar in that they both
take a lot of focus and commitment," he says.
Jon Lugbill
Jon Lugbill is generally recognized as the best
paddler to ever compete in whitewater canoeing.
He's a five-time World Champion in C-1, a one-time silver medal winner, a seven-time
member of a gold medal winning team and is the only athlete in history to have won 12
golds in the Whitewater World Championships. "He was the group leader," says his
former coach, Bill Endicott. "He was surprisingly selfless and was always thinking about
the team. Yet he always wanted to be the best." Lugbill is also the only paddler ever to
have his picture on a Wheaties Box. It hangs on the wall in his office of Richmond Sports
Backers in Richmond, Va.
Steve Lysek
Steve Lysek was the lead paddler on the first-place U.S. Olympic C-2 10,000-meter team
of Lysek and Steve Macknowski in 1948. He designed and built the boat–controlling
warping by bookmatching the wood–and developed a shorter, more efficient stroke using
torso rotation. Asked to protest another contestant's incursion into his lane in the
1000-meter race he refused–stating the paddler had not impeded his progress.
Jamie McEwan
When the International Olympic Committee debuted whitewater slalom in the 1972
Munich Games for the first time in history, no one gave the U.S. much hope. All that
changed when a 19-year-old named Jamie McEwan stormed to win the bronze in C-1,
legitimizing the sport for a long line of followers. "That was a milestone for U.S. paddling,"
says Bill Endicott, former coach of the U.S. team. "Americans didn't believe in themselves
until that moment." McEwan accomplished just as remarkable a feat when, coming out of
retirement 20 years later, he placed fourth in C-2 with Lecky Haller at the 1992 Olympics
in Spain.
Scott Shipley
If it weren't for tough twists of fate, Scott Shipley, 28, could well have six World Cup K-1
titles under his sprayskirt. As it is, he'll have to settle for three, in 1993, '95 and '97, with
seconds in '98 and '99 and a third-place finish in '94. Even without his victories, however,
he is by far the most successful slalom kayaker in U.S. history, if not the world. Apart
from coaches and fellow competitors, the first people to recognize this are the townfolk
from his home in Poulsbo, Wash., where a sign leading into town reads, "Welcome to
Poulsbo...Home of Scott Shipley, 1993–1995–1997 World Cup Kayak Champion."
Jim Terrell
Not many athletes have appeared in the Olympics four years in a row. Then again, not
many athletes, no matter how gifted, have the stamina of sprint canoeist Jim Terrell, 34,
who competed in the Games in 1984, '88, '92 and '96. A woodsman by trade who makes
custom paddles for elite canoeists, Terrell also holds the prestige of tallying 27 U.S.
Olympic Festival (USOF) medals, including 17 golds, ranking him second in USOF
history.
Rich Weiss
Although he might not have gained the notoriety of fellow U.S. teammate Scott Shipley,
to this date two-time Olympian Rich Weiss enjoys the country's highest Olympic placing
with a sixth-place show-ing in the '96 Games on the Ocoee. He also became the first
American to medal in men's kayak at the World Championships in 1993. A long-time
member of the U.S. kayak team, Weiss came to a tragic end in 1997 when he died
kayaking Washington State's Upper White Salmon River.
–Compiled by Eugene Buchanan, Tom Bie, Richard Bangs, Aaron Bible, Jodie Deignan, Brad Dimock, David
Gonzalez, Peter Kennedy, Ron Watters, Charlie Wilson and Roy Webb
Adam Boyd
Woodstock, Vt.'s Adam Boyd, 21, started paddling at age 9. Career highlights include
gold and silver C-1 medals at the 1995 U.S. Olympic Festival and winning the C-1 bronze
at the Pre-World Rodeo Championships in 1996 and Rodeo World Championships in
1997. At 21, he is now looking for an Olympic slalom berth for 2000.
Greg Chinn
In 1999, Greg Chinn, 19, finished 4th in the Junior World Championships (Zagreb,
Croatia) in the C-1 1,000-meter event, bringing home the best junior World result in U.S.
history. In the same event, he finished 6th in the 500-meter competition. He is a bright
hope for the USA in sprint C-1, for the 2004 Olympics.
Casey Eichfeld
Nine-year-old Casey Eichfeld's first canoe trip was at 18 months old. He started paddling
on his own at age 5 and com-peting at age 6. Since the age of 8, he has been a member
of the Cadet National Slalom Team. In 1999, at age 9, he became an Open Canoe
National Champion with partner John Kazimierczyk. His paddling goal is to match Jon
Lugbill's record in competitive slalom and be on the Olympic Team.
Gwen Greeley
In 1999, though only a cadet (age 14 and under) competitor, Gwen Greeley topped the
entire K-1 junior woman's field at every major slalom competition including Junior U.S.
Team Trials and Junior Nationals. Her primary training ground is the East Race
Waterway in South Bend, Indiana. She has been a member of the Cadet National team
since 1996 and been featured in Sports Illustrated for Kids.
Brett Heyl
Brett Heyl's paddling career began in 1990 at the age 9. Since that time, he has been at
the forefront of cadet, junior, and senior slalom competition, including a 5th place finish at
the U.S. Nationals at age 15, two Junior Olympic titles and a Junior National Slalom title.
In 1999, he became the first U.S. junior slalom kayaker to win an individual medal
(bronze) in World or Pre-World competition since Scott Shipley in 1988. He has been a
member of the U.S. Junior Team since 1995.
Tamara Jenkins
Tamara Jenkins, 21, won the silver medal in the K-2, 500-meter event for the U.S. in the
1999 Pan Am Games in Winnepeg, Canada. At the Linz, Austria International Regatta
she won the gold in the K-2, 500- and 1000-meter events and won the 1999 Nationals in
all K-2 events with her partner, Kathy Collin.
Hannah Larsen
Hannah Larsen, 18, honed her technique in New Hampshire with David and Peggy
Mitchell. A member of the Junior U.S. Team in 1995, 1997, and 1998, she completed her
junior career with a bronze medal at the 1998 Junior World Championships in the K-1W
team event with Aleta Miller and Anna Jorgensen. In 1999, Larsen stepped from the
Junior US Slalom Team right onto the U.S. "B" Team. She is a student at Emory
University and paddles with the Emory Eagles.
Tren Long
Tren Long, 17, is the younger brother of US Team athletes, Chad and Kenneth Long.
Formerly a slalom kayaker, Tren switched to C-1 several years back and, in 1999, took
second at the Ocoee Doubleheader, in the men's C-1 Class. He was the number one C-1
on the 1999 Junior U.S. Slalom team and is a bright hope for a medal at the 2000 Junior
World Champion-ships. When not racing, he is often in Idaho safety boating for his
family's raft company.
Brad Ludden
Montana's Brad Ludden, 18, won the bronze medal at the World Rodeo Championships
in Canada in 1997. He has also traveled extensively throughout the World to compete in
places like Japan (where he topped the men's expert kayak field in 1998) and film
extreme videos throughout Europe. In 1999 he's the top junior rodeo paddler in the U.S.
and will compete in the World Freestyle Championships in
New Zealand in December.
Scott Mann
Scott Mann, 16, began his career at age 10 and within four years won the Cadet National
Slalom Champ-ionships. He is the youngest paddler ever to tackle the Batoka Gorge on
Africa's mighty Zambezi and in 1999 he was a member of the Junior U.S. Slalom Team,
competing in Europe and the pre-World Championships. Despite being mainly a slalom
competitor, Mann placed 8th at the 1999 U.S. Rodeo East Team Trials and finished 4th in
expert junior freestyle at the Ottawa Rodeo.
Nathan McDade
Nathan McDade, 18, a graduate of The Academy at Adventure Quest, was the NOWR
junior points leader in 1998. As with teammate Brad Ludden, his name could be found at
or near the top of most junior expert classes in this year's freestyle competitions. The #2
junior kayak on the 1999 U.S. Team, he heads to New Zealand for the World
Champ-ionships in December.
Aleta Miller
One of the top young women kayakers today’s, Aleta Miller, 19, represented the U.S. at
the 1999 Surf Kayak World Championships in Brazil. In 1998, she was a top finisher on
the U.S. rodeo circuit and a member of the Junior Slalom team. At this year's Junior
World Championships in Austria, she won a bronze in K-1 women's team. When not
competing, she can be found trashing herself on the Ocoee or bombing down some
obscure Appalachian creek.
Jesse Murphy
Though probably the youngest paddler on the 1999 tour, Jesse Murphy, 15, proved his
stuff against the big boys with a bronze medal finish at the Maupin Daze Rodeo. He is
currently a student at the Adventure Quest Academy, training in New Zealand for the fall
and is a bright hope for the future of rodeo.
Scott Parsons
Scott Parsons, 20, was a member of the Junior U.S. Slalom Team from 1994 through
1997. He became the first U.S. junior to win a Junior World Cup (Poland) and won team
medals (silver, with Josh Russell and Kyle Elliott, and bronze, with Louis Geltman and
Brett Heyl) in the 1994 World and 1997 Pre-World Championships, respectively. He is
now a member of the U.S. Slalom Team, and competed in the finals of the 1999 World
Championships.
Becca Red
At the ripe old age of 13, Tennessee's Becca Red has already won three National
Championships and six gold medals. She finished first in the Junior Women class at the
Ocoee Rodeo and took two firsts in the C-2 at the Junior Olympics. Red is certainly one
of the youngest designers in the country, playing a critical role in the creation of Dagger's
Dynamo, designed specifically for kids. She is also a straight A student who's won a
President's Award for Academic Excellence.
Rusty Sage
In 1998, 19-year-old Rusty Sage topped the field in men's kayak at the Pre-World Rodeo
Championships in Taupo, New Zealand–at the age of 17. A former slalom paddler turned
rodeo star; Sage has been at or near the top of the freestyle circuit for several years. He
heads down under again in December to defend his title at the World Freestyle
Champ-ionships.
Ethan Winger
Ethan Winger, 18, has already logged river miles in more than 20 countries. In 1995, he
won the Cadet Nat-ional Championships and the next year he competed at the World
Surf Kayak Championships (at age 15) in Costa Rica. In 1998, he was the #1 U.S. junior
slalom kayaker in international competition and is the only U.S. athlete to compete on
both the 1999 Junior Slalom and 1999 Freestyle (Rodeo) Teams.
Bartosz Wolski
Nineteen-year-old Bartosz Wolski finished 7th in the Junior Worlds in K-1 500-meter in
1997. In 1998 he won the bronze in K-1 500 in the Junior World Cup. At the 1999 Sprint
Nationals in Lake Placid, N.Y., Wolski won the 200-meter race and was 2nd in the
500-meter against all the U.S. Men.
–Compiled with help from Peter Kennedy
Serge Corbin
Perhaps no other canoeist has commanded his or her discipline as well as Quebec
marathon racer Serge Corbin, 42, who has won the famed Triple Crown of North
American Canoe Racing–consisting of the 70-mile General Clinton Canoe Race,
120-mile Ausable Marathon, and Canada's La Classique de Canots de la Maurice–every
year since its inception in 1992. Included in these results are victories in 20 of 22 races
since the Triple Crown was formed. With 55 major victories in 23 years of racing events
comprising the Triple Crown, he is clearly one of Canada's preeminent paddlers. "For
more than 20 years he has dominated marathon canoe racing to an extent unmatched by
any competitor in any other sport," says Triple Crown spokesman Phil Weiler. "His record
is comparable to a single athlete winning 50 major PGA golf tournaments or 50 Grand
Slam tennis tournaments over 20 years."
Bill Mason
Known as the Father of Canadian Paddling, the late Bill Mason distinguished himself
among Canadian paddlers not just as a skilled canoeist and whitewater boater (most
often in his cherished 16-foot Chestnut Prospector), but also as an author, artist,
photographer, speaker, environmentalist and filmmaker. One of his most famous works
was the acclaimed Path of the Paddle, a film celebrating the sport and Canada's
wilderness. His spirit lives on in the Water-Walker Film and Video Festival, held every two
years. "He had a passion and a respect for the resource," says Joseph Agnew, of the
Canadian Recreational Canoeing Association. "And he did an incredible job of
communicating that."
Eric Morse
As one of Canada's more modern-day explorers, Eric Morse mapped much of the
northern waterways of Canada. A prolific author, he paddled and explored throughout the
'30s, '40s and '50s, and though he didn't discover the waters he mapped, he popularized
and documented their existence for much of the world. He is also well known for taking
trips with such dignitaries as former Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau.
Don Starkell
From 1980-'82, Don Starkell set an unheard-of world record by paddling 12,181 miles
from Winnipeg, Manitoba, to Belem, Brazil. Although his record was later broken by
Verlen Kruger and most recently by Britain's Neil Armstrong and Chris Maguire, Starkell's
feat stands out as a milestone for expedition canoeists across the world. He was also the
first to solo kayak through the Arctic Passage.
Hap Wilson
A long-time guide and former outfitter, Hap Wilson has spent much of his life mapping,
studying and fighting for the preservation of the beautiful Temagami Region in Northwest
Ontario. His guidebooks are renowned for their detail and offer much more than just
directions–describing not only paddling routes but also history, people and necessary
conservation plans. Wilson led the charge on many Canadian environmental issues.
Kirk Wipper
One of the last of the living canoe legends in Canada, Kirk Wipper, a former Outdoor
Education professor at the University of Toronto, was instrumental in developing
Canada's National Canoe School. Wipper had a love affair with the heritage of the canoe,
believing that every canoe had a story to tell. True to his beliefs, he donated an
enormous collection of canoes to the Canadian Canoe Museum. As a further testament
to his canoeing fame, he was knighted this summer by Canada's Governor General.
Omer Stringer
An accomplished instructor, wilderness guide and author, Omer Stringer is credited with
developing the Canadian style of solo canoeing in the '60s and '70s. As a guide, Stringer
became known around the globe as the legend of Ontario's Algonquin Park, one of the
world's most famous wilderness tripping areas.
Mark Scriver
One of the most talented open boaters in North America, Mark Scriver, an instructor at
Black Feather Wilderness Adventures on Ontario's Ottawa River, has been instrumental
in developing freestyle and rodeo canoeing in Canada. Co-author with Paul Mason of the
acclaimed instruction manual Thrill of the Paddle, Scriver took first in open canoe at the
1996 Rodeo PreWorlds, first at the 1997 Rodeo Worlds (the same year he made the first
open canoe descent of the Firth River), and first again at the 1998 PreWorlds in New
Zealand.
Ken Whiting
Showing the world that Canada isn't just a land of canoeists, Ken Whiting took the
freestyle kayaking world by storm by winning the 1997 World Rodeo Champion-ships on
his hometown river, the Ottawa. The unassuming ambassador of freestyle kayaking is
also an accomplished instructor, video producer and author of The Playboaters
Handbook, detailing the moves that got him to the top.
It was a perfect Canadian image: the canoe, the wild rice bog, the portage used 150
years ago by Voyageurs opening Canada's savage Northwest. Being proudly
nationalistic, I savored the moment as my canoe snaked through the rice, seeking the
portage entry point. Plant shafts hissed along the boat's fiberglass sides. Seed-heads
slapped our faces. Wild rice bounced onto our hat brims.
Finally nudging shore, I hopped out too early and sank thigh-deep in rice-bog slime. My
stern partner threw his weight sideways for balance while I grabbed the gunwale and
sucked myself up from the bog. I floundered ashore, helped land the canoe and,
shouldering my share of the load, squished onto the narrow, stony path. I would rinse off
at the other end of the portage. Voyageurs weren't clean all the time, either.
We were paddling the Canadian Shield, an unthinkably huge, wide-open wilderness used
by fur traders, or Voyageurs, for hundreds of years. Many of the paths connecting their
canoe routes have been kept clear by tour operators, giving modern-day, Gore-tex-clad
Voyageurs a glimpse of the fur-trading past. The trails can be obscure; 10 yards to the
right or left and we'd never have found the mushy ground signaling our portage point.
Half the world's fresh water flows through Canada, most through this vast region, and
some of the more distant tributaries, lost in boreal forests far from civilization, have likely
never seen a paddle. But in their heyday, routes like this one were busy commercial
water-highways—at least for a few months of summer.
If the United States was founded on horseback and covered wagons, the map of Canada
was charted by canoe, unfurled first by early explorers, then by salaried employees of
two companies battling for dominance in the fur industry—Hudson's Bay Company and
The North West Company. The first of the explorers had no idea what they were getting
into. La Verendrye, Henry Kelsey, Radisson and Groseilliers—among the earliest names
recorded in Canada's history—all paddled the Shield's crazy spider-web of waterways in
the 1600s and 1700s, using birchbark canoes modeled after those made by Ojibway and
Algonquin Indians, their bark pieces held together with spruce-root lacing and boiled pine
gum.
Those first explorers gave way within a century to skinny Voyageurs, most of them under
five-foot-six—shorter than your average 20th century 12-year-old. Short was best,
because the small Voyageur took up less space, needed less food, and could easily use
the standard four-foot, three-inch paddle. Hardy fools with a taste for adventure,
Voyageurs were little more than indentured slaves to the companies that employed them.
They usually paddled 15 hours a day, five to six men to a boat, their freight canoes larger
than those the explorers used. Voyageurs had to handle boats measuring up to eight
yards in length and by the 17th century, the canoes were made of wood, a sturdier
material for whitewater encounters.
By trip's end, with winter setting in, Voyageurs dipped their blades in ice slush around the
fragile boats. Loaded with provisions and trade goods on the way into Canada's interior,
the boats were now burdened with a ton or more of stinking furs—and every day's
journey meant portages, sometimes a dozen or more, hauling the fur bundles over
rock-and-swamp forest trails. The Voyageurs used tumplines, or portage collars, to carry
their loads along the trails, trotting along at about three miles per hour, up to 200 pounds
on each bent back. The tumpline wrapped around a bale of fur and rested across the
Voyageur's forehead. Settling the first 80-pound bale into place behind him at roughly
hip-level, they then piled a second pack, sometimes even a third, atop the first.
Voyageurs lived on pemmican (animal fat mixed with dried meat and berries), rubaboo
(water, flour and pemmican soup), or gruel made of dried peas and bacon. If they ran out
of real food, they ate tripe de roche (a moss soup, useless nutritionally but effective at
staving off starvation pangs), moccasin leather, parchment, and, occasionally, their dogs.
They called the men who came from Montreal to collect furs at Lake Superior's Grand
Portage "eaters of pork." It was an insulting term, meaning that those men were fat and
soft compared to the tough, half-starved lads who braved the savage Canadian interior.
In the early years of the fur trade, the Voyageurs often had to fight off attacks by Indian
tribes. Local aborigines quickly saw the advantage in trading with these strange little
men, and began guiding them through the more confusing areas of the Shield and
supplying them with food, furs and canoe repair materials in exchange for trade goods.
The relationships between Voyageurs and native people became solid commercial
friendships and often led to Indian-Voyageur marriages, out of which the Metis, or
mixed-blood children, were born.
Explorers in birchbark boats, and early traders and Voyageurs in wooden canoes, may
have opened the Canadian Northwest to the concept of commerce. Yet the place
remains as empty now as when the rivers were first paddled, populated only by the
occasional fishing lodge or scattered reserve. During the short but glorious summers
here, canoeists can paddle hundreds of wild, unspoiled routes including the original
"Voyageur highways," comfortably coddled with ample, upscale provisions, light canoes,
and cozy tents— all provided by tour companies. Outbound groups register with Royal
Canadian Mounted Police posts near the provincial or national parks. Many trips begin at
Lac La Ronge Provincial Park, a four-hour drive north of Saskatoon, Saskatchewan.
This is where we began, spending the first night at a Lac La Ronge campground with
privies, docks and a sand beach where we gathered around a picnic table to survey our
route map. There were five portages on our four-day jaunt, the longest five-eighths of a
mile, and about 40 miles of straightforward paddling. This would be the scenic route; a
pleasant, relaxing trip through a series of scenic vistas, from large lakes to narrow,
marshy channels and quiet streams. The area offers more than just easy routes,
however. Treks range from easy flatwater canoeing to Class IV paddling, with much of
the hard stuff located along the Churchill or Hayes Rivers.
By the time we arrived at the end of our trip at Stanley Mission, we too gained a
semblance of what it must have been like to be a Voyageur, camping under the stars and
traversing untouched wilderness. Of course, there was an obvious difference. While they
covered more than 80 miles a day, our group, lazily contemplating the history and
surroundings, averaged a happily-mediocre nine miles per day, giving us time for slow
breakfasts, two or three swims and long lunches followed by light naps. But like the
Voyageurs hundreds of years before us, we never saw nor heard evidence of another
human—no two-stroke engines, no planes overhead. Nor did we see so much as a bottle
lid to indicate any other humans had been this way. We could have been original
explorers here, bartering and delivering furs while charting a virgin course through an
undiscovered world.
If sheer cliffs, river gorges and stair-like waterfalls aren't enthralling enough, there are
plenty of portages to tackle—though none are much more than a mile. It's roughly 180
miles all the way to Rat Portage, but it's possible to bail out for burgers in towns like Fort
Frances and International Falls.
Route Information
For Assiniboine River, Winnipeg River and Hayes River/Middle Track route and
topographical maps, contact the Manitoba Department of Natural Resources, 1007
Century St., Winnipeg, Manitoba, CN R3H 0W4 (phone 204-945-6666, fax
204-945-1365). Maps cost $4.50 (CN) each.
For Boundary Waters/Voyageur Waterway route maps, contact the Ontario Ministry of
Natural Resources, Thunder Bay Regional Office, 435 S. James St., Suite 221, Ontario,
CN P7E 6S8 (phone 807-475-1261 or 807-468-2501); or Northwest Ontario's Sunset
Country Travel Association, P.O. Box 647W, Kenora, Ontario, CN P9N 3X6 (phone
800-665-7567 or 807-468-5853).
For Saskatchewan Voyageur Highway booklets and maps, contact Saskatchewan
Environment and Resource Management, 3211 Albert St. East, Regina, Saskatchewan,
CN S4S 5W6; or Saskatchewan Tourism, 500-1900 Albert St., Regina, Saskatchewan,
CN S4P 4L9 (phone 306-787-2300).
Hotline Blurbs
Roll Master
Proud of being able to roll on both sides and stick the
occasional hand roll? That's smallfry compared to the rolling
prowess of Portland, Ore.'s Harvey Golden of Qainnaat
Kayaks. The long-time builder of traditional Greenland
kayaks—and practitioner of traditional paddling
techniques—has nearly 40 different rolls in his quiver, most
of them simulating conditions that used to arise while
hunting. "I just do a fraction of what's out there," he says.
"But they're all traditional Greenland rolls designed to
simulate real hunting conditions. They all evolved
practically...some are designed to simulate rolling in tangled
harpoon lines, with a broken arm, or even with a wounded
animal on the other end." Golden, of course, has had plenty of time to practice—this
summer he rolled his way down 800 miles of the Columbia River.
—edb
"My agent told me that this company was looking for someone for a certain campaign, so
I sent them a photo," says Holbek, one of this country's leading expedition kayakers.
"Now I do shoots with them for up to two months a year, and I guess people have seen
pictures of me way out in the middle of nowhere, from India to Taiwan."
The clients are apparently pleased with the campaign—even though the star is paddling
a kayak instead of saddling a horse. "It's been working well," says Skyland's Kaz Wagi,
mastermind of the campaign. "Kayaking is an ongoing motif for our client, and Lars is an
excellent paddler with a mild, good-looking face. He gives the impression of a macho,
strong paddler, which is what our client wanted." It's also giving Holbek what he wants—a
lifestyle paying him to travel from Chile to Canada throughout the year for paddling photo
shoots. "It's a great excuse for me to stay fit for kayaking," he says. "Plus, it makes it so I
don't have to get a real job."
—edb
After holding memorial services in Foss' native Illinois, as well as in Peru and Chile, Patti
met John's extended family: an international paddling community. Here she found
inspiration to continue with the publication of his book. "My love and inspiration for my
brother, along with the tremendous support from his friends, has compelled me to finish
his work and fulfill his dream," says Patti. "John's main goal was to help others and share
his knowledge of the area. And he wanted to contribute a portion of the book's profits to
support local conservation organizations. Chile Whitewater is John's last gift to us." This
sudden immersion into the paddling community has given Todd her own gifts as well.
"Losing my brother was devastating," she says. "Yet the support has been tremendous,
with everyone inspiring me to go on with the book."
Kurt Casey, Foss' paddling partner, is helping edit the book. "Since 1991 I have seen the
book grow from extensive river notes to a manuscript," he says. "John was always
working on it, collecting distances, mileage, times and altitudes. This is more than a
guidebook: a million adventures went into making it. It's a tribute to Chile, the land and its
people. It covers the full spectrum: information for armchair adventurers, first-time Chile
boaters or diehard paddlers."
—Jody Deignan
A Grand Mess
23 passengers helicoptered off stuck raft
It's at least the second most popular rapid on the Grand Canyon. On Friday, August 20,
however, a Western River Adventures (WRA) motor rig found itself stuck in the Crystal
Rapid rock garden, making some passengers wish they’d never seen it before.
The accident occurred when the second of two WRA rafts dropped into Crystal, midway
through day three of a six-day motor trip. As the boatman negotiated the rapid's left side,
a passenger sitting in front appeared to go in the water. Following protocol, the guide cut
the motor, consequently losing control of the raft. The rig was swept sideways and, after
narrowly missing a midstream boulder known as "Big Red," came to a stop 20 yards
downstream, wedged in the middle of the river. Then the waiting began (along with
thunder, lightning and rain). "It was pretty hellish," said WRA guide Evan Tea. "The
weather alone was pretty scary."
As the crew searched for a way off and attempted to calm the passengers, other rafts
arrived on the scene. The crew of a WRA boat, which was running a deadhead trip
(without passengers), eddied out to offer assistance. The fiasco was then spotted by a
scenic tour flight and within an hour, NPS had two helicopters on the scene. As the
weather worsened, helicopters were temporarily grounded on nearby beaches. For the
next two hours, NPS crews sat inside their helicopters while guides kept the beaches wet
with river water in case the helicopters had an opportunity to take off. "It was like we were
in Fantasia," Tea recalls. "They had us hauling buckets of water like we were putting out
a fire."
When the weather cleared, NPS determined that the stuck rafters would be
"short-hauled" (using a cable dangling below one of the rescue choppers) from the raft to
a small beach. Harnessed together two at a time, the passengers were plucked from the
stranded J-Rig and dangled below a helicopter a hundred feet above the raging Crystal
rapid. Fourteen of the passengers found space on a WRA trip, which continued
downriver. The flotilla set up camp at Tuna Creek, where a rain-soaked "Alive Below
Crystal" party ensued. A day later, all 14 decided they had had enough of the Grand
Canyon and demanded to be flown out, citing safety issues. They were flown to the
South Rim and received meals and lodging, courtesy of WRA. "They were just fed up
with everything," Tea says. "The weather, the waiting, everything."
The abandoned J-rig, meanwhile, remained firmly grounded for 48 hours until the proper
rescue gear and personnel could be gathered. At 3 p.m. Saturday, a large WRA "S" rig
departed Lees Ferry to assist in river salvage, recovery and safety operations. On
Sunday, approximately 15 NPS Rangers flew in via helicopters
to extract personal property and by noon, the rescue rig arrived. Unfortunately, during the
removal, the stuck motor rig was struck by a passing cataraft, whose lone operator was
ejected by the impact and rescued by NPS Rangers. At 1:35 in the afternoon, the motor
rig was finally removed and continued downriver.
—tb
Competition Corner
Ratcliffe and Shipley each had two World Cup wins heading
into October's final at the Olympic Course in Sydney, meaning
whoever won between them would earn the title. In their most recent meeting three
weeks earlier, Shipley came out on top, besting Ratcliffe by 0.14 seconds at the World
Championships in Spain. In Sydney, however, it was Ratcliffe's turn, who took first to
Shipley's bronze. "My biggest mistake was in preparing for the final," Shipley admits, of
missing his fourth overall title. "The big event of the year was the Olympic qualifier in
Spain three weeks earlier. After that I felt spent—and my first workout under the watch
since then was the first run of the qualifiers. I should've prepared for the race sooner. If
you would've told me at the start of the year that I'd be second on the World Cup and
place second at the Worlds I would've been excited. I take a lot of satisfaction from the
year, but now I also feel like I came up short on what I wanted to accomplish."
World Cup accolades aside, Shipley is now setting his sights on the 2000 Games, in
which the U.S. will field one men's kayak spot. "The Olympics will be a fast race," he
says. "The water is very quick and racers will have to change their style radically from
last year's slow-water Worlds in Spain. My plan now is to spend the winter training in the
Southern Hemisphere so I can get some more time on this course."
—edb
1999 NOWR
Winners Announced
While it might not earn them the accolades that go with winning the PGA tour or Stanley
Cup, the results are in from the 1999 National Organization of Whitewater Rodeos series
(NOWR). Competitors earned points at 10 events during the season with their top five
placements counting toward final standings. The winners walked away with engraved
Kayakapelli statues, certificates and cash prizes. "We're proud of this year's circuit and
are looking forward to seeing it grow in the future," says American Whitewater's Jayne
Abbot. "It's an exciting time to be involved in freestyle kayaking."
Rodeo Results
Men's K-1 Boat Sponsor Points
1. Eric Jackson Wave Sport 300.8
2. Brandon Knapp Dagger 282.3
3. Macy Burnham Perception 274.3
Women's K-1 Boat Sponsor Points
1. Brooke Winger Wave Sport 86.8
2. Deb Ruehle Pyranha 78.4
3. Erica Mitchell Wave Sport 76.6
C-1 Boat Boat Sponsor Points
1. Allen Braswell Perception 54.2
2. Luke Hopkins Wave Sport 44.5
3. Chris Manderson Perception 38.5
Juniors Boat Boat Sponsor Points
1. Brad Ludden Riot 111.0
2. Andre Spino-Smith Riot 84.4
3. Kyle McCutchen NA 53.6
Training Season...
In the off-season, we do the usual things to be able to afford spending time doing nothing
but paddling. We write frantic, semi-literate pleas to sponsors. We might "push rubber"
(guide rafts), make whitewater videos, or lead kayaking trips, everywhere from Nepal to
Ecuador to Zambia. Many pursue their drug of choice—adrenaline—on the slopes,
snowboard instructing or ski patrolling at places like Whistler-Blackcomb or Jackson
Hole. A few hapless souls die the slow death known as "getting a real job." On the circuit,
these folks are easy to recognize: they don't have to eat out of dumpsters until at least
the second month of competition. There's also a handful of "Trustafarians." For top
competitors, the months before the circuit can be the best time for training. Travel and
competitions don't interfere with boating. Many paddlers will live at sites where they can
hone their skills, braving miserable weather and worse living conditions. Famous holes
like Rock Island, Tennessee, and the Full James, in New Zealand, become home for the
winter. A typical day includes two paddling sessions, two huge meals, and a six-pack of
the cheapest beer available.
And it Begins...
Folks tend to start the season with a serious attitude; goals are set ("I will win every
rodeo by at least a hundred points"), promises are made ("I will not total the Perception
RV this year"), and hopes run high. At the hole in Maupin, Ore. (a mediocre hole due to
low water), in early May, we had to wait in line for almost an hour the day before the
event. Over two months later, lines for the hole in Durango, Colo. (an absolutely great
play-spot) were never more than a few minutes.
Often, however, Mother Nature can stir things up. We got to the point where we'd start
convulsing when a local at each site would remark, "Boy, winter sure is staying around
late this year!" We'd get used to boating in snow, hail, and freezing rain, then setting up
tents in the same conditions a few hours later. My typical outfit from late April until the
end of May (during which we competed in Virginia, Oregon, Washington State, Montana,
Wyoming, and Utah) consisted of the following: helmet, PFD, skirt, skullcap, Gore-Tex
drysuit, pogies, thin capilene tops and bottoms, thick fleece top, fleece socks and booties.
And since we paddled all day, living out of a truck, nothing ever had a chance to dry.
We quickly learned the one rule on the circuit was that no hole was ever the right level.
The New River was too low, the Clackamas was so high that Bob's Hole was a small
wave. The Swan was so low due to cold weather that the rodeo turned into a
"freestyle-through-a-rapid" competition, in which each contestant would paddle through a
short section of river, doing tricks as they went. At first, we whined and moaned that none
of the holes were perfect. Eventually, we realized that we were still living the best life we
could imagine, even if Trestle Hole was 1,000 cfs too small.
Not everyone loves each other but we tend to get along. The rodeos are often very
competitive, and many athletes take the events seriously. But each boater cheers for the
others, and if someone starts to "go off" (have a good ride), everyone gets excited. We
formed a huge, highly dysfunctional family, a fraternity based on paddling and everything
that comes with the sport (alcohol, other recreational substances, complete lack of a
social life, and frequent injuries). Gossip centered on who had recent close calls
("Sammy Splitwheel pinned on a log on Vallecito Creek for six hours yesterday"), who
had been looking good in the holes ("Cassy Cartwheel got a three-billion pointer at
Redsides last Friday") and the latest romantic developments ("I haven't had physical
contact with the opposite sex in over a decade now").
There are awful moments on the circuit—choking at a big event a few minutes after a
great practice ride; swimming on an ice-cold river during a hail-storm; eating fast-food
every day for months on end until I thought if I saw another seven-layer burrito my frontal
lobe would fuse. But afterwards, when friends would ask me if I plan to go back and
spend more time on the freestyle circuit, my answer comes quickly: "I’ll see you next
year."
by Jeff Robinson
The winter of '99 left the largest snowpack ever recorded throughout most of Washington
State. Combined with a cool spring, rivers and creeks were running high all summer.
Paddlers in the Evergreen State were loving it—rivers that normally only run for a couple
weeks during the peak of snowmelt had seasons of a month or longer. Creeks were hit in
the heat of August that are usually only boatable during the cool days of spring.
Several steep creeks have become Washington classics over the past few years. All of
these runs are described in detail in Jeff Bennett's second edition of A Guide to the
Whitewater Rivers of Washington (Swiftwater Publishing). But be careful, these creeks
are all rated Class IV and V, and Northwest creeks are notorious for surprising paddlers
with logjams that change yearly, if not monthly. Always check with local boaters to
determine current conditions and, if at all possible, paddle with someone who knows the
run.
Ohanapecosh
Class V
Length: 4.7 miles
Average gradient: 128 feet per mile
The Ohanapecosh River (pronounced Oh-hanna-pa-kosh) drains the huge snowfields of
Ohanapecosh Park on the East slopes of Mt. Rainier, before turning South between the
Tatoosh Range and Goat Rocks Wilderness. Although the run is never more than half a
mile from Highway 123, all signs of civilization disappear as soon as you leave the put-in
at Ohanapecosh campground. For the next four and a half miles, huge boulders form
tight slots and vertical drops, separated by emerald green pools at low flows or quickly
moving water at higher levels. The rapids are often long and require several key moves
so plan on a lot of scouting your first time down. Most of the scouting and portaging can
be done at river level with one notable exception– Elbow Room. Once Summit Creek
enters on river left (near the end of the run), you'll run Summit Creek Ledge. This forms a
bad hole at most levels and is usually run far right. Not far below this, eddy left to scout
(and probably portage) Elbow Room. At medium to high flows, the only line is into a
powerful hole at the bottom that kicks into a horrible undercut in the center. At lower
levels, a tight slot opens up on river left. Less than a quarter mile below Elbow Room is
the Big Falls, a 15-foot drop with several lines, depending on water level. It has a tricky
lead in, so be careful—several paddlers have found themselves cartwheeling in the hole
about 30 feet before the main drop.
The Ohanapecosh is easy to find. The take-out is at La Wis Wis campground on Highway
12 about seven miles east of Packwood. To get to the put-in, continue east on Highway
12 for about a half-mile, then turn north onto Highway 123. The put-in is a few miles up
this road at Ohanapecosh campground (about a mile after you enter Mt. Rainier National
Park).
Top Tye
Class IV-V
Length: 2.5 miles Average gradient: 223 feet per mile
The Top Tye is in the headwaters of the popular Skykomish River. It flows right off the
west side of Stevens Pass, never far from Highway 2. Its close proximity to Seattle and
its long season make it an increasingly popular run. There are few quiet moments on the
Top Tye—you're either running a big drop or quickly approaching one. The top half of the
run is in a small gorge that contains several tough drops. The biggest of these is The
Spout. Here most of the water gets stuffed into an ugly hole backed up by the gorge wall
in the bottom right corner. Paddlers must charge hard left as they come down the slope
to avoid doing time there. The gorge ends as Deception Creek enters from river left.
Immediately below are two drops that can be scouted from the Deception Falls parking
area while you're running shuttle (although you'll probably want to look at them again
from the river). The first is a sloping 15-foot drop called Monkey Cage. The second is
Crack in the Earth, where the river makes a fascinating 90-degree right turn as it drops
about 20 feet. The usual line is through the far right slot, although the main drop has also
been run. Watch out for the hole at the bottom of the final ledge—it's undercut and forms
a double hydraulic. The ledge just downstream of Crack in the Earth requires a good boof
or you'll be doing hydraulic time there as well. Keep your eyes open below here for a big
horizon line. Log-Choked Falls is about a 30-foot drop that was run for the first time in
1999 after some (but not nearly all) of the logs were moved by high water. There's an
easy portage on the right that allows you to run the next 10-foot ledge or put in below it.
The last mile contains more boulder rapids and fewer ledges, but watch out for
Paranoia—at some water levels the final eight-foot ledge has one of the worst holes on
the river.
The take-out for the Top Tye is at the Highway 2 bridge, just upstream of Alpine Falls.
However, Alpine Falls is not marked on the road, so the bridge is roughly seven miles
east of Skykomish. An easy put-in is at the next bridge upstream (just less than three
miles), but you can also drive downriver from this bridge on a side road and put-in a little
ways downstream. During the shuttle, you can stop at Deception Falls (it's well marked)
and scout Monkey Cage and Crack in the Earth.
Elkhorn Canyon
Class V-V+
Length: 3 miles Average gradient: 208 feet per mile
Located on the east side of Olympic National Park, Elkhorn Canyon is a 300-foot-deep
basalt chasm, carved by the Dosewallips River as it makes its way from the glaciers of
the Olympic Mountains to the sea. The boating is set in a rainforest fairyland, where the
rocks are covered in a layer of thick, soft moss, ferns stand waist tall, big trees are all
around (sometimes in the river), and still more moss dangles from the tree branches.
Because Elkhorn canyon is so narrow, paddlers wait until the Dosewallips is extremely
low before attempting it. In a normal snow year that would be August, but this year
Elkhorn ran into October. Less than a half-mile below the put-in, paddlers must portage
Lower Dosewallips Falls. (The put-in is actually at the base of Upper Dosewallips Falls,
and it's obvious why you don't put in higher.) This is an involved portage that would be
impossible at higher flows. Below the falls, the canyon contains countless complex
boulder gardens full of tight slots, one-boat eddies, and lots of drops in the five- to 10-foot
range. Some powerful holes are formed when the entire flow is squeezed through slots
no more than eight feet wide. The gorge walls close in several times below the falls so,
for some of the drops, the only scouting is from a rock in the middle of the river. Although
the entire run below the falls has been done with no portages, this is the Olympics, so
trees are a constant problem. The take-out for the Elkhorn Canyon run is at Elkhorn
Campground in Olympic National Park. The put-in is about three miles up the only road,
just below Upper Dosewallips Falls.
Upper Cispus
Class V
Length: 5.9 miles Average gradient: 130 feet per mile
There are several sections of great whitewater on the Cispus River. The main run begins
at the Adams Fork campground. Because it drains the north face of Mt. Adams, this
section is usually too high until late in the season (August or September). It's more
pool/drop than most Washington rivers, which makes the average gradient rather
deceiving. Most of the rapids are steep boulder gardens with technical lines and powerful
holes. However, there are several memorable falls on the run, culminating with The Big
Falls. It's best to scout this drop before putting on because when you come to it on the
river you'll be at an inescapable gorge. There's an eddy at the end of the gorge, at the top
of the Big Falls. You can jump out on a rock on the left here to get another look at your
line, but portaging is not really an option at this point unless you're a very accomplished
rock climber. The falls itself is about 30 feet from the top, but it slopes downward before
going vertical. As tough as the falls is, it's not the major obstacle. Paddlers must land the
falls in complete control so they can charge left to avoid the monstrous hole about 40 feet
downstream. If you're not too exhausted at the end of the run, be sure to stop at the
confluence of East Canyon Creek for a short canyoneering adventure. A short swim up
this spectacularly narrow side canyon leads paddlers to a beautiful ribbon falls in a huge
rock amphitheater.
The Upper Cispus is roughly southeast of Randle (located on Highway 12) toward Mt.
Adams. From Randle, drive about 19 miles along Forest Road 23 to the bridge over the
Cispus. This is the take-out. To get to the put-in, drive back toward Randle for about a
mile. Turn right on the first road, Forest Road 21. Follow this for about four and a half
miles, then turn right onto Forest Road 56. You'll come to Adams Fork Campground
almost immedi-ately. You can either put in here or follow the road a short ways
downstream to the bridge.
Robe Canyon
Class V-V+
Length: 5.5 miles Average gradient: 140 feet per mile
Robe Canyon on the South Fork of the Stillaguamish is not usually a summertime run.
The winter rains keep it running for most of the cooler months but because its drainage is
fairly low, it usually runs out of water in early spring. The snowpack was so extensive in
'99, however, that it continued to run into late July. The put-in for Robe Canyon requires
about a mile hike down the Old Robe Historical Trail or a 6.5-mile, Class II paddle in.
Robe Canyon is classic Washington Class V—long rapids, pushy water, and big holes.
On top of that, it has very sharp rocks and water that is so silt-laden you can't see more
than a couple of inches into it. This is no place to be upside down! The rapids are often
complex, requiring several key moves. The action starts abruptly at the entrance to the
first railroad tunnel. Here the river narrows and immediately steepens as huge boulders
fill the streambed. There's a short pool below here before entering Last Sunshine. This
rapid is really three rapids crammed together, complete with powerful holes, undercut
rocks, and surging eddylines. For the next three miles, the rapids are pretty much
back-to-back Class IV and V. Most of the rapids are boulder gardens or small bedrock
ledges that form powerful holes. The canyon is fairly open, though, and scouting can
always be done at river level. A couple of miles into the trip keep your eyes open for a
large landslide coming in from river right. This rapid and the one below it (Garbage) are
the most congested on the river and they change yearly—sometimes there's good lines
through, sometimes they're sketchy. You can scout and portage Landslide on the right
and Garbage on the left.
Robe Canyon is located just upstream of the town of Granite Falls. Take the Mountain
Loop Highway north out of town. In a little over a mile you'll come to a bridge. This is the
take-out, just upstream of Granite Falls (unrun as of yet). To get to the put-in, continue
about five miles up the Mountain Loop Highway to the Old Robe Historical Trail. From
there it's about a mile carry down to the river.
Long crossings in a sea kayak are sometimes unavoidable. So are times when you have
to parallel a rocky coast with no place to land. If the weather and swell is fine, neither
situation poses a problem. When the weather and seas turn sour, however, it's another
matter entirely. Battling waves, wind, fatigue, hypothermia and the inability to make
headway can gang up on even the most experienced paddler—and it requires survival
skills that go well beyond what you might have learned in a dock-side class.
Before attempting a crossing, you can limit the risk of such a situation by establishing
your launching spot, waiting for a weather window and limiting your exposure by traveling
as quickly and efficiently as possible. A few other techniques can also help.
Preparation
Survival begins with preparation, before you even leave the beach. A well-organized
cockpit will allow easy access to essential items. I carry flares, signal mirror, a knife and
energy bars in the pocket of my PFD. A small Class B EPIRB (rescue beacon) fits inside
my paddle suit. Should I have to swim for shore, I will have these things when I reach
land. In addition, I keep a small waterproof comfort kit in the cockpit. This contains extra
food, dry clothing, a hand-held radio and fire starter. A lanyard allows me to clip the bag
to my PFD, leaving my hands free for swimming. Obviously, boat and paddle are the
primary survival tools. Should I become separated from my boat, however, these other
items could save my life.
Recognition
Admitting things are out of control may be difficult: denial is a common response to a
life-threatening situation. The earlier you recognize you are in danger the sooner you'll be
able to make decisions to improve your situation—and the more energy you'll save to
deal with it. Being caught in gale force winds a long way from shelter is a serious
problem. Each choice you make—to push on, to land in the surf—may have serious
consequences. Focus on three things: stay upright, head for shelter and conserve heat
and energy. All three depend on your skills; hone them before you find yourself putting
them to the test.
Shelter
Always have an escape route planned. This is the quickest and most energy-efficient
route to a safe landing or shelter from wind and waves. Getting off the water is the best
option. The route should avoid hazards like reefs and large tide rips. River mouths that
may offer an easy landing at high tide in calm weather can turn treacherous in heavy
weather with the tide ebbing. The key is to choose a route that saves energy, not
mileage, even if that means going back the way you came. Ten miles downwind can be
easier and faster than five miles into a headwind.
Retreating
The decision to backtrack is difficult. Mentally, it is demoralizing to give up hard-earned
miles, especially if the objective is close. But it is a wise skill to master. Evaluate the
conditions first and the distance second: 500 feet from the top of Mt. Everest is still a long
way from the summit. Be prepared to let go of your original goal. Pushing on into
headwinds takes energy. The more your reserves deplete the less your chance of
survival. Remember: the wind and ocean do not get tired. Get off the water as soon as
possible to remove yourself from threatening conditions before exhaustion sets in. In
extreme conditions I have found it prudent to stop fighting the elements and run with
them.
Several advantages result from paddling with the wind and swell at your back. You will
travel faster with less energy, and even if you stop paddling you'll still make progress.
Each stroke becomes easier because the boat is moving at its hull speed as opposed to
pushing into headwinds where the boat is being decelerated. The windchill factor is also
reduced by paddling with the wind, saving precious calories from heat loss.
Surf Landing
In the event a sheltered landing is out of the question you have two options: landing
through the surf or waiting it out on water. Landing a fully loaded ocean boat in heavy surf
is a challenge; and on an unknown beach it can be risky. The surf zone may be
impossible to read due to poor visibility, large swell, and spray and sea foam blanketing
the surface. All this increases the risk of hitting rocks. A steep beach will produce violent
surf. What are the consequences if you lose your gear? If there is a road nearby, being
shipwrecked may be an acceptable option. Being marooned gearless on a desolate
beach in Alaska is another story.
Once you're on shore your job is not over. Practice survival skills you might
need—lighting a fire, setting up shelter—beforehand. And remember that if you swim,
being cold, wet and exposed on shore is still a grim scene. I once bobbed in my kayak 30
yards from shore and watched large waves explode on a steep gravel beach. Safety
seemed so close but making it ashore through the surf appeared unlikely. Reluctantly, I
paddled another four miles in marginal conditions to a safer landing. When things start
unraveling options not only become fewer but also less inviting.
Staying warm
Fatigue and cooling of the body core are insidious, each feeding off the other. Wind and
cold water will zap your strength quickly. Energy expenditure requires calories...fuel the
furnace by eating often. Unwrapping energy bars beforehand allows them to get from
your pocket to your mouth with the least amount of fuss. Water is also critical; a hydrating
system that does not require lid removal is the most convenient. Any time you take your
hands off the paddle you will be more vulnerable to capsizing. Always keep an eye on
approaching waves and be ready to engage the paddle for a brace at any moment.
Adding layers should be done at the first sign of cooling. Extreme conditions make doing
any task difficult and hazardous; especially trying to slither into sleeves. Without
someone to raft up with for stability solo paddlers are vulnerable when changing clothes.
Palm Equipment of England makes a paddler's anorak with full sleeves, hood and a skirt
that seal around the cockpit coaming. It can go on over the PFD and paddle jacket and
helps with heat retention. A loose-fitting spraydeck allows cold water to sit in your
lap...another place to leak heat. I often carry a piece of closed-cell foam to insulate my
legs from pooling water on the skirt.
Keeping it together
The journey to safety may require you to paddle in frightening conditions for some time.
The most important factor for survival is the will to live. It is your mind and body that will
get you out of the mess you got yourself into. They must work together. The body
responds to a fearful mind by contracting; muscles tense and breaths become short and
shallow. This wastes energy. Long, slow deep breathing relaxes the mind and helps
release fear. It is a paradox that you must relax in a demanding situation, but it's key to
survival. Pay attention to your body. Loosen the grip on the paddle, stop pressing so hard
on the foot braces and relax the lower back. Remember torso rotation for efficient, energy
saving strokes.
Slow down. That distant point will come up soon enough. Pushing the boat faster than its
hull speed is not efficient. The exception to this rule is a headwind. Here you have to
paddle hard to make headway, but be realistic about the distance you'll be able to cover.
Keep your spine loose. A tight spine in rough water will make the boat feel tippy. Keep
your hips loose so the kayak can respond to the motion of the water. Counting strokes
can also help you remain calm.
Look ahead as you paddle and alter your course well in advance of any hazards.
Changes in sea condition might make a return route different than when you paddled it a
few hours earlier. Also remember that in heavy weather things pile up near shore. Avoid
the temptation to paddle close to shore; unless there is a good landing or obvious route it
often offers false security.
When rounding a point, be prepared for the sea and wind to be compounded. Taking a
short cut inside might not be a good idea. If there is any doubt, head for the deeper water
outside. When approaching a point that offers leeward shelter be careful not to get swept
by a possible bail-out spot. Remember that you are in a current of air (and possibly
water) that is propelling you along like the flow of a river. When skirting a point and
coming into a bay, pay attention to your ferry angle and whether or not the course to
shore puts you across or nose-up to the wind. Once you're downwind of a suitable
landing, it may be impossible to fight your way back up.
When you do make it ashore you'll likely do as many have before you; you'll get down on
your hands and knees and kiss the ground. But don't forget to glance back at the water
and thank the sea for not claiming you—it could have been different.
—-Dennis Eagan is a 12-year sea kayak guide and ACA-certified instructor from Alaska who has taught open ocean
workshops and marine and winter survival courses. On his own, he has explored more than 500 miles of Alaska's
exposed Gulf Coast between Sitka and Kodiak.
Breakthroughs in Boating
by Kent Ford
Body Mechanics
Extension: Reach to place the blade for the longest pull.
Balance: Experiment with different types of leans.
Flexibility: Find your personal weaknesses and try to perfect them, whether it's a boat
lean or hip snap.
Blade Skills
Feathering: Develop the ability to slice the blade through the water. Sculling: Learn to
move your boat sideways with the sculling motion. Maximize movement with fewer
strokes. Varying pressure: Search out resistance with the blade for the maximum stroke
quality. Catch, Power and Recovery phases: Develop a quality catch and a quick
recovery for the most power. Vertical paddle strokes: Compare vertical acceleration
strokes and lower traveling strokes.
High-level paddlers strive to do an hour of flatwater drills once a week. You can also add
these drills to your normal warm-up and cool-down routine. Your best bet is to do the
drills on flatwater, so you can appreciate the effects of your strokes without the
complication of currents.
Easy at first glance, stroke drills are hard to practice correctly. Improvement comes with
deliberate thought and practice. Be smooth, slow and purposeful. Refining your technique
seems to require more effort... in truth your muscles are merely adjusting to the motion.
Stick with it! Keep in mind these drills are just a means to an end. Get out on the river
and shred it up, putting the drills out of mind. But chances are, you will find new skills
creeping into your playboating.
—Author Kent Ford recently released The Kayaker's Playbook and The Solo Playboating Workbook. Find more tips at
www.performancevideo.com.
Eco Blurbs
When Michigan paddler Kevin Geshel returned to his native Keweenaw Peninsula on
Lake Superior after a 13-year absence, he didn't like what he found. "I grew up fishing
with my grandfather here," Geshel says. "When I moved back to Michigan two years ago
I was surprised and saddened to hear warnings that I should only eat one fish meala
week, and that my wife–who was pregnant at the time–shouldn't eat any at all. That's
when it really hit home."
So Geshel decided to do something about it, teaming with four other paddlers and the
National Wildlife Federation (NWF) to promote an 18-hour paddle across Lake Superior
in an effort to draw attention to water quality issues. The trip also had the goal of helping
increase the chances of Lake Superior being designated an Outstanding National
Resource Water (ONRW). Still, Geshel didn't take the crossing lightly, and included in his
group Don Diamond, the only paddler to have crossed all five Great Lakes. "It's sobering
that this lake has gotten the better of more than 20,000 seaworthy vessels in the past 150
years," Geshel says. "But our journey was carefully thought out and we were comfortable
with the element of risk."
The group left on the morning of July 15, near Isle Royal and finished near Geshel's
home on the Keeweenaw Peninsula. "I think the trip raised a lot of awareness about toxic
pollution and the ONRW designation," says Tony DeFalco, Lake Superior Project
Coordinator for the NWF. "The designation would be a great first step toward zero
discharge of toxic chemicals."
For decades, paddlers have complained about a stench along the Potomac River just
upstream of Washington, D.C., as have people using the adjacent C&O Canal and
towpath (a national park). It was assumed that the rotten egg smell assailing them was
stagnant canal water. Not so, says the American Canoe Association (ACA), the Canoe
Cruisers Association of Washington and the Potomac Conservancy. "D.C. essentially has
a really bad gas problem," says ACA attorney David Bookbinder. According to
Bookbinder, the source of the odor is large amounts of hydrogen sulfide spewing out of
vents from the Potomac Interceptor sewer paralleling the riverbank and canal for several
miles. The gas—a byproduct of raw sewage—is more than just offensive; it is actually
dangerous, referred to by the EPA as "extremely toxic."
On Oct. 7, 1999, these groups filed a lawsuit against the D.C. Water and Sewer Authority
for failure to properly install, operate, inspect and maintain the vents, a clear violation of
requirements under its permit. "The stench emitted from the vents has long been a
nuisance to people living, working and recreating along the C&O Canal," says Matthew
Logan, Executive Director of the Potomac Conservancy. "The odor hangs like a dark
cloud over the millions of visitors who enjoy the area."
—dj
During its 1999 session the Louisiana legislature passed HB 962, a bill designed to
strengthen the state's Scenic and Natural Rivers Act by prohibiting the placement of
barricades, barriers, fences and other obstacles on rivers within the system. The bill was
signed by Governor Foster and has become law. This new law will not only help protect
the ecological and scenic qualities of Louisiana's waterways, it will improve the public's
ability to recreate on these rivers. The law also orders the removal of a dam on Big
Creek, a popular paddling stream. The law comes on the heels of other dam removals,
most notably that of the Edwards Dam on the Kennebec River in Maine. Like most
environmental successes, the law did not happen without hard work. Local groups, such
as the Louisiana Environmental Action Network, the Pollock Area Chamber of
Commerce, WATERS, the Sierra Club and the National Wildlife Federation spearheaded
the effort to make the new protections a reality.
—dj
A recent decision by U.S. District Court Judge Gladys Kessler resulted in the
management of Nebraska's Wild & Scenic Niobrara River remaining in the hands of the
National Park Service (NPS). Under local pressure, the agency was seeking to turn
management of the river over to a council composed largely of pro-development
representatives. The decision came in response to a lawsuit filed by the American Canoe
Association (ACA) and the National Parks and Conservation Association (NPCA) which
asserted that the NPS could not legally give up its management responsibilities. "This
decision affirms that the Niobrara belongs to all Americans and that the Park Service has
a duty to protect it as such," says ACA Executive Director Jeff Yeager. After finding in
favor of ACA and NPCA and issuing a strong rebuke to NPS, the Judge sent the agency
back to the drawing board by requiring it to prepare a new general management plan and
environmental impact statement, one that actually that complies with the National
Environmental Policy Act.
—dj
River Runners
Team Up to Clean San Juan
The next time you float Utah's San Juan River, you might notice its banks are surprisingly
cleaner. In September, the Grand Canyon Private Boaters Association joined New
Mexico's Adobe Whitewater Club and the Colorado Whitewater Association for a
week-long river clean up of the San Juan. "Nothing like that had ever happened there
before," says trip coordinator Tom Martin. "This was the first time groups representing
non-commercial river runners attempted a San Juan clean up together. All of our
organizations deal with access and protection issues in our respective states so it made
sense to work together. We were able to give back to the resource we enjoy while
building stronger coalitions between our groups."
The groups were given the go ahead in early September by Utah Bureau of Land
Management officials, who suggested some areas likely needing the most attention,
including the heavily-visited region just down river from the Sand Island put-in. The party
of 15 spent eight days cleaning up 84 miles of river during an unusually high run-off year.
Their efforts paid off right away. At the first lunch stop downstream of Sand Island, the
group gathered 600 pounds of junk, including a six-foot-diameter front loader tire. "There
was so much garbage pilled on my boat I had to stand up to see over it," says participant
Scott Thomas.
By the time the group reached the take-out at Clay Hills, the group accumulated more
than 4,000 pounds of refuse, with the trash tally including 32 tires, a child car seat and an
eight- by four-foot Road Closed sign. "But we did more than just pick up trash," says
Richard Stoop, president of New Mexico's Adobe Whitewater Club. "This trip has allowed
us to share our common issues, become acquainted with each groups local issues, and
plan possible future cooperation." Realizing that a permanent bond had been created, the
group is far from putting the lid on its plans to continue cleaning in the future. "We're
already discussing getting together next spring for another one," says Liz Sutphin of the
Colorado Whitewater Association. "We had a lot of fun and even did a little mud
wrestling, so it wasn't all work."
—tb
If the United States was founded on horseback and covered wagons, the map of
Canada was charted by canoe, unfurled first by early explorers, then by salaried
employees of two companies battling for dominance in the fur industry—Hudson's Bay
Company and The North West Company. The first of the explorers had no idea what
they were getting into. La Verendrye, Henry Kelsey, Radisson and
Groseilliers—among the earliest names recorded in Canada's history—all paddled the
Shield's crazy spider-web of waterways in the 1600s and 1700s, using birchbark
canoes modeled after those made by Ojibway and Algonquin Indians, their bark pieces
held together with spruce-root lacing and boiled pine gum.
Those first explorers gave way within a century to skinny Voyageurs, most of them
under five-foot-six—shorter than your average 20th century 12-year-old. Short was
best, because the small Voyageur took up less space, needed less food, and could
easily use the standard four-foot, three-inch paddle. Hardy fools with a taste for
adventure, Voyageurs were little more than indentured slaves to the companies that
employed them. They usually paddled 15 hours a day, five to six men to a boat, their
freight canoes larger than those the explorers used. Voyageurs had to handle boats
measuring up to eight yards in length and by the 17th century, the canoes were made
of wood, a sturdier material for whitewater encounters.
By trip's end, with winter setting in, Voyageurs dipped their blades in ice slush around
the fragile boats. Loaded with provisions and trade goods on the way into Canada's
interior, the boats were now burdened with a ton or more of stinking furs—and every
day's journey meant portages, sometimes a dozen or more, hauling the fur bundles
over rock-and-swamp forest trails. The Voyageurs used tumplines, or portage collars,
to carry their loads along the trails, trotting along at about three miles per hour, up to
200 pounds on each bent back. The tumpline wrapped around a bale of fur and rested
across the Voyageur's forehead. Settling the first 80-pound bale into place behind him
at roughly hip-level, they then piled a second pack, sometimes even a third, atop the
first.
Voyageurs lived on pemmican (animal fat mixed with dried meat and berries), rubaboo
(water, flour and pemmican soup), or gruel made of dried peas and bacon. If they ran
out of real food, they ate tripe de roche (a moss soup, useless nutritionally but effective
at staving off starvation pangs), moccasin leather, parchment, and, occasionally, their
dogs. They called the men who came from Montreal to collect furs at Lake Superior's
Grand Portage "eaters of pork." It was an insulting term, meaning that those men were
fat and soft compared to the tough, half-starved lads who braved the savage Canadian
interior.
In the early years of the fur trade, the Voyageurs often had to fight off attacks by Indian
tribes. Local aborigines quickly saw the advantage in trading with these strange little
men, and began guiding them through the more confusing areas of the Shield and
supplying them with food, furs and canoe repair materials in exchange for trade goods.
The relationships between Voyageurs and native people became solid commercial
friendships and often led to Indian-Voyageur marriages, out of which the Metis, or
mixed-blood children, were born.
Explorers in birchbark boats, and early traders and Voyageurs in wooden canoes, may
have opened the Canadian Northwest to the concept of commerce. Yet the place
remains as empty now as when the rivers were first paddled, populated only by the
occasional fishing lodge or scattered reserve. During the short but glorious summers
here, canoeists can paddle hundreds of wild, unspoiled routes including the original
"Voyageur highways," comfortably coddled with ample, upscale provisions, light
canoes, and cozy tents— all provided by tour companies. Outbound groups register
with Royal Canadian Mounted Police posts near the provincial or national parks. Many
trips begin at Lac La Ronge Provincial Park, a four-hour drive north of Saskatoon,
Saskatchewan.
This is where we began, spending the first night at a Lac La Ronge campground with
privies, docks and a sand beach where we gathered around a picnic table to survey
our route map. There were five portages on our four-day jaunt, the longest five-eighths
of a mile, and about 40 miles of straightforward paddling. This would be the scenic
route; a pleasant, relaxing trip through a series of scenic vistas, from large lakes to
narrow, marshy channels and quiet streams. The area offers more than just easy
routes, however. Treks range from easy flatwater canoeing to Class IV paddling, with
much of the hard stuff located along the Churchill or Hayes Rivers.
By the time we arrived at the end of our trip at Stanley Mission, we too gained a
semblance of what it must have been like to be a Voyageur, camping under the stars
and traversing untouched wilderness. Of course, there was an obvious difference.
While they covered more than 80 miles a day, our group, lazily contemplating the
history and surroundings, averaged a happily-mediocre nine miles per day, giving us
time for slow breakfasts, two or three swims and long lunches followed by light naps.
But like the Voyageurs hundreds of years before us, we never saw nor heard evidence
of another human—no two-stroke engines, no planes overhead. Nor did we see so
much as a bottle lid to indicate any other humans had been this way. We could have
been original explorers here, bartering and delivering furs while charting a virgin
course through an undiscovered world.
If sheer cliffs, river gorges and stair-like waterfalls aren't enthralling enough, there are
plenty of portages to tackle—though none are much more than a mile. It's roughly 180
miles all the way to Rat Portage, but it's possible to bail out for burgers in towns like
Fort Frances and International Falls.
Route Information
For Assiniboine River, Winnipeg River and Hayes River/Middle Track route and
topographical maps, contact the Manitoba Department of Natural Resources, 1007
Century St., Winnipeg, Manitoba, CN R3H 0W4 (phone 204-945-6666, fax
204-945-1365). Maps cost $4.50 (CN) each.
For Boundary Waters/Voyageur Waterway route maps, contact the Ontario Ministry of
Natural Resources, Thunder Bay Regional Office, 435 S. James St., Suite 221,
Ontario, CN P7E 6S8 (phone 807-475-1261 or 807-468-2501); or Northwest Ontario's
Sunset Country Travel Association, P.O. Box 647W, Kenora, Ontario, CN P9N 3X6
(phone 800-665-7567 or 807-468-5853).
For Saskatchewan Voyageur Highway booklets and maps, contact Saskatchewan
Environment and Resource Management, 3211 Albert St. East, Regina,
Saskatchewan, CN S4S 5W6; or Saskatchewan Tourism, 500-1900 Albert St., Regina,
Saskatchewan, CN S4P 4L9 (phone 306-787-2300).
This was no leisurely paddle down Baja, no casual seaside crossing. (Alaska is most
likely an abbreviation of Unalaska, derived from the original Aleut word "agunalaksh,"
which means "the shores where the sea breaks its back.") Every second we were on
the water, every stroke we took, was purposely targeted toward getting back to land
quickly, and safely. Far from rescue, locked in cold, raging seas, this beautiful, stark
setting was the last place you wanted to make a mistake. Dropped off on June 13 at
the north end of Kagamil, we were greeted by a thick fog. Later that day strong winds
and rain blew the fog away but hours later it was back—thicker, wetter and colder than
before. Exactly the conditions we expected.
Other than the region's notoriety for bad weather, we knew little about the place. Few
do. One-hundred-mile plus winds are common. The channels separating the islands
are renowned for unpredictability. Ten-foot standing tide rips concerned us, as did the
lurking threat of earthquakes and volcanoes.
Less than a handful have kayaked these waters since the Aleuts disappeared from the
islands a couple hundred years ago. (It was the Aleut's sophisticated baidarkas that
served as forerunners for the top-of-the-line, 22-foot fiberglass/Kevlar/carbon Necky
kayaks we paddled.) Certainly no one for centuries has made the crossings we would
be attempting. Difficult to reach, yet incredibly beautiful when the strong, constant
winds occasionally blow away the fog and storms, there is little reason other than
insatiable curiosity to come this far. We were lured by a secondary mystery: The Aleuts
consider these islands—particularly Kagamil—to be the birthplace of the Aleutian
people. They buried their dead here, mummified, adding a strong hint of spirituality to
the place.
This was expeditionary paddling at its utmost. Simply making the crossings in our
heavily loaded boats—on the days we weren't pinned down in our tents by wind and
rain—was a major concern. Unlike a big mountaineering trip, with the accompanying
Sherpas and tons of gear, we had no base camp. We carried everything we
needed—food, paddling and climbing gear, emergency and first aid equipment,
mountains of camera gear—each time we paddled. We couldn't risk leaving anything
behind in case the violent storms we anticipated came up without notice, separating us
from our lifeline.
The middle of the Bering Sea is no place to spend time in the water. In practice, these
big tandem boats, weighing between 700 and 800 pounds when loaded, could be
rolled back up if we tipped over. But that's more theory than reality. The likelihood was
that if we ended up swimming we would need to get out of the water in less than five
minutes before hypothermia began to slow our hearts and kill us. We each wore strobe
lights on our PFDs and each boat carried an emergency beacon, but we jokingly
dubbed them "cadaver locators." The closest rescue would come out of Dutch Harbor,
150 miles away. By the time any distress signal was picked up, the beacon-carrier
would most likely be dead. Each morning I measured the temperature of the ocean; it
ran between 35 and 38 degrees. Air temps were in the low 40s, with steady winds of at
least 10 mph, making the wind chill in the mid-20s. Not the best weather for a swim.
On our second day we attempted our first crossing—2.5 miles between Kagamil and
Uliaga islands. As we pushed off the beach I was nervous. We were headed into thick
fog. It was the first time I'd worn neoprene gloves while using an ultra-light,
carbon-fiber paddle—the result was that I could get no grip on the paddle, nor
purchase on the ocean. I realized too that my foot pegs were badly adjusted, my knees
crammed high into the fiberglass. Scott and I paddled up alongside Barry and Sean,
but they were against any kind of retreat for a refitting. "This is the best test
imaginable," shouted Barry, the strong wind whipping water off his paddle.
On our fourth day we were still camped at our drop-off point. We'd hoped to head
south this day, along the western edge of Kagamil. But not paddling proved to be the
best call. Among everything we carried out there, patience may have been our most
valuable asset. The plan had been to leave the black sand beach at 11 a.m. We hoped
to round Candlestick Point and then slide down the west side of the island, staying
within 150 feet of the shoreline. We expected it would take three to four hours in our
heavily loaded boats to reach the southern end of the island, hopefully with the wind at
our backs.
Departure was delayed until 1:30, as it took seemingly forever to pack our boats. A
major problem was the 50 pounds of extra food, especially the bags of rice, pasta and
16 days worth of freeze-dried. It—and Barry's big mound of camera gear—proved
difficult to squeeze into the already heavy boats. As the afternoon ticked by, the winds
picked up. Scott and I watched the pass separating Kagamil and Uliaga and we could
see the whitecaps growing with the naked eye. What we could not see, and could not
predict, was what the seas and winds were doing around Candlestick Point.
With winds now blowing from several directions at once, and given the lateness of our
start, we were concerned that we would get to the point and start heading south, only
to find conditions raging, a fierce wind blowing in our face, or out to sea. If we took off
in these heavily loaded boats and were forced to turn back, we might not be able to
retreat and could end up sleeping on a pile of rocks or be pummeled against cliff walls.
Our next possible camp was eight miles away. "I think we've missed our window of
opportunity," Scott said, as we watched a williwaw blow a horizontal band of sea spray
in a quarter mile line, half a mile offshore.
"The window has actually just been slammed shut," I added a few minutes later when
a gust nearly picked up one of the loaded kayaks. Presented with the notion of
resetting camp, Barry and Sean agreed. This was our first glimpse of real Aleutian
weather, our first real opportunity to make a decision about whether to move or not to
move. We chose on the side of caution. None of us were anxious to round that corner
and be met by gale-force winds and waves sweeping toward Siberia. With binoculars,
the true ominousness of the Bering Sea bore down; it was bleak, wind-whipped and
cold out there. On shore, windchill dropped to 20 degrees. This was exactly the kind of
clear and dangerous day, turning the Bering Sea into a frosty, smoky cauldron, that the
few locals had warned us about.
"Good call," said Barry, as we watched williwaw after williwaw chase one another
through the pass. Then it started to rain, cold and blinding. We left Skiff Cove, on the
biggest island called Chuginadak, on our 12th day out. Wind and rain had kept us
stuck in our tents for 60 hours. Finally the weather gods smiled. A 100-foot waterfall
sparkled behind us as we paddled west past greening shores, stopping occasionally to
explore deep seaside caves. The most dramatic action of the day was a badly
launched puffin. Never the most adroit flyers, it was surprised by our entrance into a
cliffside cave, and when it tried to take flight it hit me square in the head.
Our goal was Applegate Cove, a three-mile-long sand beach in the middle of
Chuginadak, strung beneath the 5,700-foot-tall, active volcano Mt. Cleveland. From
there we would paddle in a triangle to Carlisle Island, then Herbert Island, and back.
The long, black sand beach at Applegate was the best landing we'd seen, for its length
and its sandiness. Pulling the boats ashore on the more common rocky beaches had
grown tiresome and cold, since it meant unloading while standing in frigid, rocking surf,
before carrying them high onto the rocks. Here we could just run the boats straight up
onto the beach and drag them above the tideline.
The long beach was the repository of a massive, nightmarish pile of driftwood and
plastic debris blown in from the Bering Sea fishing fleet. During a long walk, we found
an orange box of Japanese rocket flares (empty), a red Sapporo beer case (empty,
alas), various booze bottles (all empty), paint brushes, orange buoys, white and blue
bumpers from fishing boats, mounds of thick netting, metal gas containers, round
metal buoys, plastic milk crates and pails, and a wooden sign painted in Japanese,
which said something to the effect of "Be careful out there." We set up elaborate tent
sites at the eastern edge of the beach, out of the constant winds. We hauled driftwood
to build front and back porches and buried deadmen anchors deep in the sand, just in
case. Out here over-preparation is the way of life.
Herbert Island, Day 16. Walking around a series of seven lakes and ponds just over a
high ridge south of our camp, it was possible to imagine an Aleut village built right
here. Flat, protected from the winds, fresh water all around. Every step and paddle
stroke we took, we thought about what it must have been like for the Aleuts, in those
days long before Gore-Tex and fiberglass. Along the ridgeline we surmised that a
series of moss-covered humps could have been cairns, visible from the sea, markers
for the hunting men in their baidarkas. Six, seven feet tall, they were evenly spaced 50
feet apart, seven of them climbing the hill, too calculated to be an accident.
In the 25 days we spent exploring the Islands of the Four Mountains the hints of Aleut
life was our strongest connection to mankind. It is rare these days to spend so much
time in a place so remote, so untouched. Other than the drift-stuff, we saw little
evidence of modern man. In nearly four weeks we glimpsed a solitary tanker on the far
horizon, heard a small plane in the clouds and, from Herbert, spotted an oil company
helicopter buzzing Mt. Cleveland.
The next day came with another thing we were not used to seeing: sunshine. The
sunlight played on the surprisingly calm seas. Looking across the pass at Mt.
Cleveland, it could have easily have been Hawaii, or Japan. The wind died and the
songs of the birds were clear. Each day brought more flowers, and now the hillsides
were steeped in nootka lupine, mountain buttercup and wild parsnips. We spent a long
day hiking Herbert and at midnight it was still light. As the sun finally began to set, final
rays of the day and the trip blended with a volcanic plume from still-active Mt.
Cleveland, creating an orange/pink halo around its peak, as if a higher being was
reminding us of the region's sanctity.
END
Location: California
Sections: Chili Bar and the Gorge
Nearest Town: Coloma, Sacramento
Season: Year-round
1998 Commercial Figures: 77,000
Private Use: 32,000
Mgt. Agency: El Dorado County Parks and Recreation
Kern River
Located just 100 miles north of Los Angeles, Southern California's Kern River attracts
rafters like Sunset Boulevard attracts party goers. For good reason. Called the Rio Bravo
by Spanish explorers because it was so difficult to cross, the Kern offers more than 50
miles of Class III-V whitewater for paddlers of all persuasions. After turning off their cruise
controls, visitors arrive for classic Mountain Dew-style California rafting, including
100-degree temperatures and clear, cold water.
Draining the western slopes of 14,495-foot Mt. Whitney, the Wild and Scenic Kern flows
through two river-running hubs: Bakersfield, of the Rolling Stones' “Girl with Faraway
Eyes” fame; and the whitewater Mecca of Kernville. Several sections are run
commercially by five outfitters, with the majority of the river's 40,000 annual visitors
coming from the city. Those looking to erase the nine-to-five stress of LA head to the
17-mile-long, Class V Forks of the Kern, which takes two to three days with an outfitter.
Space on these trips is as tight as the canyon itself: the Forest Service only allows one
commercial launch per day. Farther down is the 21-mile, Class III-V Upper Kern, which
parallels the road, letting private parties and outfitters put in at will. "It's a great get-away
for folks from the city," says Bill McGinnis of Whitewater Voyagers, California's largest
outfitter. "You can pick and choose your put-ins depending on the flow and your group."
Lake Isabella controls the runoff for the 18-mile Lower Kern, ensuring boatable flows all
summer guaranteed to wash the makeup on soap opera stars right off.
Location: California
Sections: Forks, Upper and Lower
Nearest Town: Bakersfield, Kernville, Los Angeles
Season: April-August
1998 Commercial Figures: 40,000
Private Use: 4,000
Mgt. Agency: Sequoia National Forest
Deschutes River
Site of a famous railway war just after the turn of the century, Oregon's desert delight
flows through some very un-Oregon type terrain, tumbling from the foothills near Bend
and fed by several rivers running east from Mt. Hood. Many outfitters and private river
runners storm the Deschutes during the summer months from nearby Portland and
Eugene. "Saturdays during July and August are absurd," says Kent Wickham, of Ouzel
Outfitters in Bend. "Frankly, we encourage people to go elsewhere, like the McKenzie or
the North Umpqua. We try not to go there on Saturday at all." Luckily the Deschutes is a
big river, and can accommodate many a rain-soaked resident heading over from the
western side of the Cascades. The most popular section of river is the Class III, 50-mile
stretch above Class VI Sherars Falls, particularly the 16 miles above and below the town
of Maupin. Whitehorse and Boxcar are the most famous rapids, with Whitehorse offering
the opportunity to pinball from one poorly-placed boulder to the next. In 1995, the BLM
instituted a limit on overall summer use by outfitters but left private use, which is more
difficult to manage, unregulated. This obviously angered some outfitters but most seem to
agree that numbers have tapered off in recent years. The Lower Deschutes River Guide
will be published next year by the BLM and will include advice on river etiquette.
Location: Oregon
Section: Section 2, near Maupin
Nearest Town: Maupin, Bend
Season: Year-round
1998 Commercial Figures: 87,908 (141,000 if all sections are included)
Private use: numbers reflect 70 percent private use
Mgt. Agency: BLM Prineville
Wenatchee River
Like Oregon's Deschutes River, Washington's Wenatchee offers those living in the
rain-drenched valleys west of the Cascades an opportunity to easily get away to a slice of
Northwest desert. Maybe too easily. In Western Whitewater,
the authors write, "The Lower Wenatchee River has a lot in common with Los Angeles:
great weather, freeways, big crowds
and roller coaster rapids right out of Disneyland." During a commercial trip on the
Wenatchee in the mid 1980s, the state police closed off a large parking area without
warning that was being used by commercial outfitters. In the melee that followed,
hundreds of passengers searched the river corridor for their outfitters, as the outfitters
themselves scrambled frantically to
find another way to get on the river. Since then, boaters' needs have been
accommodated for with the helpful hand of city planners, state regulators and federal
land managers. The Wenatchee now has excellent access facilities at a number
of strategic locations along the highway, which follows the river
for most of the run. The lower Wenatchee sees almost 20,000
user days a year, many on a hall pass from Seattle, accounting
for almost half of the commercial rafting done in the state.
Luckily, large flows and a long season help disperse the masses.
Location: Washington
Section: Leavenworth to Cashmere
Nearest Towns: Leavenworth, Peshastin, Cashmere
Season: May - August
1998 Commercial Figures: 8,795
Private Use: N/A
Mgt. Agency: Wenatchee National Forest
Arkansas River
Though much of the "Ark" rolls slowly along through prairie country, the whitewater
section of the upper river east of Denver is generally considered to be America's and the
world's most popular paddling destination, with more than 60 outfitters and
over a quarter of a million visitors annually. The Arkansas' sheer numbers demand a
unique method of management. Here, highways practically connect put-ins and take-outs
and most development activities took place long before rafting ever blew onto the scene.
Plus, along sections such as the Royal Gorge, steep-walled canyons shield the river from
random access and development. With limited access points and thousands of rafters,
the key to successful management has been to provide safe entrances and exits on and
off highways, ample parking and bathroom facilities, and staggered launch times to
balance out the impact of so many rafts.
"We get a lot of visitors from Texas but Colorado is still our number one draw," says
Doug Bascom, of Salida's River Runners.
"It can be crowded but people come for the good water and
they realize that's what everyone else is here for too." According to the Colorado River
Outfitters Association, the 1998 Economic Impact Report shows that the Arkansas River
generated
$55.5 million in regional economic impact and that average
annual growth since 1988 has been a staggering 12.5 percent.
The most popular stretch of the Arkansas is the Class II-III
20-mile run through Brown's Canyon, and the Texas Creek/Three Rock section
downstream from Salida, site of the annual FIBArk whitewater festival. For experts, try
Class V Pine Creek Rapids, a boulder-choked maelstrom in between the town of Granite
and Scott's Bridge, or the infamous Numbers stretch—named for the volume of rapids,
not the crowds you find downstream.
Location: Colorado
Sections: The Numbers, Browns Canyon and Royal Gorge
Nearest Towns: Buena Vista, Salida, Colorado Springs
Season: May - September
1998 Commercial Figures: 250,098
Private Use: N/A
Mgt. Agency: Arkansas Headwaters Recreation Area
Colorado River
Though the Grand Canyon may receive the most publicity and attention of the many
miles of Colorado, it doesn't receive the most use. The upper Colorado, in the state of
Colorado, runs through two major, gorgeous canyons—Gore and Glenwood. Gore
Canyon is a technical, five-mile run, and is flowing free to this day only because
President Roosevelt felt a railroad belonged there over a dam. Site of the annual Gore
Canyon Whitewater Race, this section holds at least a half-dozen Class V rapids and is
only run by a few commercial outfitters. Most trips start just downstream, at the
Pumphouse Run, and continue 15 miles down to State Bridge. This is a heavily permitted
section and is the second most popular in the state, after Brown's Canyon on the
Arkansas. Many river revelers end their day at State Bridge for a burger, beer and
waterside concerts.
One of the more remarkable access systems is found along Colorado's Glenwood
Canyon section. Here, I-70 flows through a narrow canyon, through twin tunnels, and
alongside towering red rock cliffs. Known as the Glenwood Canyon I-70 Project, the
highway is at once an engineering masterpiece and an architectural delight. Its sculpted
curves flow through the canyon as its roadbed floats above the canyon floor on towering,
cylindrical pillars. Best yet, a bike path parallels the entire waterway, from Class IV-V
Barrel Springs to the Class III Shoshone run, making in-line or bike shuttles a snap.
During the planning stages of the Glenwood Canyon I-70 Project, outfitters pooled their
input with teams of transportation experts and gained access areas that blend seamlessly
with the highway infrastructure. Even management of paddling activities requires
cooperation as the Colorado Department of Transportation manages the access points
and the White River National Forest Eagle Ranger District monitors river activity. When
the highway shuttle route, access points, and staggered commercial launch times are
combined into one river management system it becomes no wonder that Glenwood
Canyon
can accommodate so many paddlers.
Location: Colorado
Section: Glenwood Canyon, Gore Canyon and State Bridge
Nearest Town: Glenwood Springs, Kremmling
Season: June - September
1998 Commercial Figures: 100,131
Private Use: N/A
Mgt. Agency: BLM Kremmling, Glenwood Springs
Snake River
The eight-mile, West Table to Sheep Gulch section of the Snake, located just south of
Jackson Hole, Wyo., sees over 100,000 outfitted user days a year. Add to that the
estimated 37,000 private users and suddenly there's nearly 140,000 river lovers
crammed into an eight-mile section of water. Perhaps nobody on the river can judge
numbers better than the commercial photographers shooting every boat that passes by.
"I shot 30 rolls a day for weeks on end," says John Layshock, of Jackson's
Float-o-graphs. "It was unreal." Though the Snake is the farthest from a major population
center of any of the rivers listed here, it still sees good numbers of private rafters make
the five-hour drive from Salt Lake City, Utah, or the two-hour drive from Idaho Falls,
Idaho. Still, the number one reason for big numbers on the Snake is the perfect mix of
Class II-III water and the millions of tourists who pass through annually on their way to
Grand Teton and Yellowstone national parks. Lunch Counter is by far the most famous
rapid on the river, serving as both perfect surf wave and convenient spot for tourists to
get their photo taken. It's also been the site of many a collision between raft and kayak,
as both vie for precious time at "The Counter." Meanwhile, management officials continue
to work as counters of their own, tallying up increasing user days. "We haven't limited use
yet," says Jan Langerman, of the Bridger Teton National Forest. "But we are trying to
schedule use to better accommodate everyone."
Location: NW Wyoming
Section: Snake River Canyon
Nearest Towns: Jackson Hole, Idaho Falls
Season: May - September
1998 Commercial Figures: 109,000
Private Use: 37,000
Mgt. Agency: Bridger Teton National Forest
Lehigh River
As the chosen destination for residents of the quiet hamlets of New York City and
Philadelphia, the Lehigh River has long been known to see some use. Yet the popular
25-mile stretch from White Haven to Jim Thorpe (named after the legendary Olympic
athlete and football All-American buried there) remains one of the East's most scenic
river corridors. A major highlight is the woodsy wilderness of Lehigh Gorge State Park,
where the canyon reaches nearly 1,000 feet as it slices through the Poconos. A ride
down the Lehigh usually consists of mellow Class II-III water, but that largely depends on
whatever's flowing out from under Francis Walter Dam. This is essentially an early-spring
river for rafters, with March, April and May being the peak months of operation. After that,
river flows—notoriously unreliable to begin with—start to get pretty shaky. Canoeists,
however, can run it much later in the year. There are some special release days in the fall
when the river can also be rafted, often with less crowded circumstances than those
found earlier in the season. Autumn on the Lehigh also includes the added bonus of
checking out fall colors through the gorge.
Location: Pennsylvania
Section: Upper and Lower Gorges
Nearest Towns: White Haven, Jim Thorpe
Season: April to early June, plus summer water releases
1998 Commercial Figures: 35,172
Private Use: N/A
Mgt. Agency: Hickory Run State Park
Youghiogheny River
The Lehigh and Yough are so close to the East Coast megalopolis that it's amazing these
rivers still harbor some of their primordial charm. Yet not only does the Yough still have
charm, but the upper section offers some of the most difficult commercially rafted water in
the country. With more than 20 Class IV-V rapids, the Upper Yough offers a challenge to
even the most experienced boaters. The Lower Yough consists of much easier rapids
and, being so close to major metropolitan areas, can be extraordinarily crowded. "It's the
most popular spot in the East," says Stuart Van Nosdeln, President of Youghiogheny
Outfitters. "It's maxed out on Saturdays but during the week it's not as bad. They stagger
the launches pretty good." A maximum of 60 inflatable private boats is allowed to launch
per hour (that's right, per hour), with a maximum of 200 hard boats per day. The
eight-mile section from Ohiopyle Falls to Bruner Run sees as many as 100,000 rafters
per season, many of whom just came down for the day. An ideal stretch for intermediate
to advanced kayakers, the Lower Youghiogheny serves up about as much wilderness as
can be expected considering its location. The river also experiences a lengthy season,
reaping the benefits of a dam-controlled release.
Location: Pennsylvania
Section: Lower Yough (Youghiogheny Falls to Bruner Run)
Nearest Town: Ohiopyle
Season: All summer
1998 Commercial Figures: 109,983
Private Use: N/A
Mgt. Agency: Ohiopyle State Park
Nantahala River
It seems you rarely hear the word Nantahala without the words "Outdoor Center"
attached to it. Actually, NOC is but one of several outfitters operating on Nantahala
National Forest permits. The popularity of this river probably led, at least in part, to it
becoming one of the first rivers with a Recreation Fee Demo Program. Last summer was
the third year of the program, which allows river runners to buy a daily bracelet for $1 a
day or a season pass for $5. Nantahala National Forest supervisors, recognizing the
need for restrictions, have also established a cap system which limits use on the river
during peak days. As the number of river runners continues to grow, management
agencies are becoming less motivated to improve access points and are leaning instead
toward this method of limiting the number of people. While this sounds appealing on the
surface, it is just the first domino in a chain of inevitable events. If the number of users
don't go down, they'll simply go elsewhere. Limit the number of people on the New, and
you'll increase the number of people on other West Virginia rivers. Limit the number of
people on the Nantahala, and people may just head for another state. In the areas where
limited large access areas exist, staggered commercial launch times and cooperation
between outfitters and management agencies has often worked smoothly.
New/Gauley Rivers
These two rivers have come to define West Virginia as the whitewater capital of the East,
together offering over a dozen separate sections with everything from calm flatwater to
serious Class V. Despite heavy use, the volume and landscape of these rivers seem to
absorb the numbers rather nicely. "The New River Gorge is an environmental region that
promotes rapid recovery between rafting seasons," says West Virginia Professional River
Outfitters President Len Hanger. "Rain, humidity and great growing conditions help
quickly reclaim areas damaged by human traffic." The New has some of the biggest
whitewater in the east, with a gorge of Western-like proportions that drops nearly 20 feet
per mile between its 1,400-foot walls. Designated a National River by Congress in 1978,
the New is one of the few rivers in the east where paddlers can enjoy an overnight trip in
relative solitude. Unlike the Gauley, the season on the New is long, from March through
November. The Gauley is certainly popular, drawing hundreds of rafters from all over the
world during its release season in late summer and fall. One weekend during this time is
dedicated to Gauleyfest, a Class VI party deemed unrunnable by some boaters’
standards. Yet the river really sees heavy traffic only during this famous, six-week,
carnival-like rampage. Nevertheless, the season on the 26-mile, 100-rapid stretch below
Summersville Dam makes up for in numbers what it lacks in length. Autumn releases out
of the giant tubes of Summersville Reservoir attract paddlers like moths to a lightbulb,
drawing over 65,000 river runners to the sight in 1998.
Ocoee River
The Ocoee River's 24 outfitters hosted more than 200,000 commercial rafters in 1998.
Add to that the tens of thousands of private boaters that plied its waters and you can see
how a McDonalds' drive-through starts to look strangely similar to the line of kayakers
awaiting a shot at Ocoee's Hell Hole. Three management agencies pool their efforts here
under an umbrella system known as The Ocoee River Management Plan. Under this
plan, the Tennessee Valley Authority, TDEC and the National Forest Service dovetail
their individual duties in order to achieve a relatively seamless scheme of management.
The state (TDEC) does the day-to-day management at the put-in (taking census counts,
checking gear, and providing emergency medical response); the National Forest Service
monitors the permitting process for special events (such as the US Team Trials); and the
TVA supplies the water. Then, to make sure the bugs are worked out on an annual basis,
all three entities get together a couple of times a year and examine their feats or follies.
Results have included capping river use at 4,000 people per day, which is currently
imposed only on Memorial Day and the 4th of July. The Ocoee hosted the 1996 Olympic
whitewater events, but offers even non-Olympians continuous Class III-IV water
throughout an extended season. The river provides some of the finest play spots in the
country for those willing to wait their turn—and of course, great burgers and dancing at
Grumpy's.
Location: Tennessee
Section: Ocoee Dam 2 to its Powerhouse
Nearest Town: Cleveland, Ocoee, Copperhill, Rock Island
Season: March - November, release dependent
1998 Commercial Figures: 220,000
Public Use: N/A
Mgt. Agency: Cherokee National Forest
Kennebec River
When low summer flows or bone-chilling temperatures
get you down on other eastern rivers, Maine's Kennebec River provides a robust tonic for
your soul. According to the folks at New England Whitewater Center, the Kennebec's
dam-controlled releases can easily reach 6,000 cfs and 75 degrees on later
summer days, keeping the Kennebec big, bold, and warm throughout the season.
One of the northeast's best known rivers, the whitewater section of the Kennebec starts
at the base of George Harris Station Dam—the main power source for Boston. On any
given summer day, it's not unusual to find a trickle of water emanating from the base of
the dam upon your early morning arrival, which changes quickly by mid-morning. As
Bostonians start to crank up their air conditioners, office lights and computers, the call for
power translates into big releases. In a matter of minutes, the first four to six miles of river
below the dam transform from small pools and gentle riffles into a cavalcade of powerful
Class III-IV rapids. With towering waves and big curlers like "Magic Falls," there are
plenty of big splashes for commercial rafters, as well as enough playspots to keep
playboaters entertained. While much of this activity takes place within the confines of
privately owned lands, Maine Power, the owner/operator of the George Harris Station,
permits travel on and across its property in order to make river running possible.
Location: Maine
Section: George Harris Station Dam to Carry Brook
Nearest Town: The Forks
Season: All summer
1998 Commercial Figures: 50,583
1998 Private Use: 8,331
Mgt. Agency: Central Maine Power Company
Hotline Blurbs
It's one of the ultimate fears of wilderness travel: something happens, something bad,
and you're forced to leave an injured loved one stranded while you go for help. Hoping
that you're doing the right thing, you travel as fast as you can, praying all the while that
whoever you leave behind is still alive when you return.
Such a situation arose over the Fourth of July weekend for Minnesota residents Christine
McConnell and Chris McLaren. The young couple were two of hundreds of canoeists
caught in a powerful windstorm that swept through the million-acre Boundary Waters
Canoe Area Wilderness (BWCAW), leveling an estimated 25 million trees with
straight-line winds of up to 100 miles per hour.
McConnell and McLaren had already spent three days paddling and were returning on
Sunday to their entry point on Island River when the tree they were standing under blew
over and landed on McConnell, breaking both of her legs. "I immediately felt a sense of
hopelessness," McLaren says. "Ten men could not have lifted that tree."
At first he tried to dig her out but McLaren was eventually forced to make a tough
decision: leave his girlfriend—his fiancé actually—and paddle for help. Though the
paddle back to the car wasn't as long as he feared, the road out was blocked by dozens
of trees, forcing him to continue to the next entry point, where he was able to borrow a
cell phone and call for help. After 35 minutes of terror and agony, McConnell pulled free
with the help of rescuers.
More than 1,000 campsites were affected by the storm, which cut a swath 12 miles
across and 30 miles long. Minneapolis paddler Scott Augustus tells a story of crossing
Ensign Lake and taking the portage to Vera Lake when the storm hit. "Afterwards," he
says, "we were collecting our gear when a couple of canoeists paddled by looking for a
canoe that the storm had blown into the lake."
Canoeists in the region weren't the only ones who came out on the losing end of the
blowdown. As negative publicity on the event spread, visitor numbers to the BWCAW
plummeted. "I'd say our business is down 40 percent from last August," says Kathy
Williams, owner of Bear Track Outfitters in Grand Marais. "Our outpost up on Sea Gull
Lake was out of power for three weeks while they reconstructed 55 miles of power lines."
Williams says all of their canoe rentals were returned undamaged but that she heard
some incredible stories from people out on the lake when the storm hit. "Some people
were literally thrown or sucked out of their canoe on the way to shore," Williams says.
"But access now is fine so I wish the papers would stop telling people not to come up
here. It's like kicking people when they're down."
Indeed, U.S. Forest Service spokesman Gil Knight was quoted in the Minneapolis Star
Tribune as saying, "We're not discouraging people from coming up here. It's a heck of a
wilderness experience right now. If you want wilderness, we'll give you wilderness."
Aerial photographs of the affected area, estimated to be 250,000 acres, show thousands
of downed trees all laying the same direction, many crossing and clogging already
difficult portage routes. Williams points out, however, that all the downed timber has
opened up incredible vistas in some areas. "You'll be driving along the Gunflint Trail and
suddenly say, 'Wow, I never knew there was a valley down there.'"
As for McConnell and McLaren, they recovered in time to enjoy their September wedding.
And yes, she was able to walk down the aisle.
—Tom Bie
Editor's note: Popeye and Bluto's Bilge Rat Barges, part of Universal Studios' new
Islands of Adventure theme park in Orlando, Fla., is more technologically advanced than
any other theme park in the world. Based on the struggle between Popeye and Bluto over
Olive Oyl, the ride carries rafters through a narrow canal, bouncing them off walls and
swamping them with waves, while Bluto and his henchmen attack at every turn. Kayaks,
unfortunately, are not allowed...but in case they ever are, here's the river guide.
In the past, kayakers who enjoyed theme park water rides had to deal with giant sharks,
pirates, crocodiles and worst of all, flat water. They've had to wait for years for someone
to come up with the whitewater ride they craved, since they were too lazy to do it
themselves. The dream has been fulfilled with Popeye and Bluto's Bilge Rat Barges ride.
Only experts should attempt this run. The threats of shallow water, large suckholes, and
children with water guns are very real. Also, you could wait an hour in line—worse than
the wait for the Chili Bar hole on the American River. You might be able to cut, but these
are theme-park crowds, so watch out. If you get caught they'll toss you in the water and
gleefully watch you drown.
Once you disentangle from the pack of giant rafts lined up at the start, you enter a
narrow, briskly-moving channel. The first obstacle comes up immediately: a Class II,
riverwide surf hole that's perfect for warming up. River left is the sweet spot, with a good
pocket for cartwheels and other rodeo moves. Don't scrape your face on the wall.
Bluto menaces you at the first bend, above a slight drop. Cut to the inside to avoid him,
and catch another nice surf hole at the bottom. You'll begin to notice the canyon's main
geological formation, obtrusive boulders of a composite nature. Most geologists believe
they occurred during the Jurassic Park-period. Now you are about to encounter one of
the two big crux moves. You'll notice that the canyon walls steepen as you enter an
S-turn with big curler waves, close walls and Class IV suckholes. Enter center to avoid
the left suckhole, brace off the wave, and dodge the left wall and the right suckhole as
you finish the second turn.
Next the river flattens out, and you can enjoy the float as water dumps down from a
tugboat beached above, spectators shoot water-guns, and Bluto fires a cannon in your
direction. The water picks up as you are sucked into an octopus cave. Kayakers need to
be careful here, ferrying right with an upstream angle as the river takes a 90-degree bend
and sends much of the current right into the octopus's strainer tentacles. It's a simple
Class III move with grave consequences if you miss.
Bluto hijacks the river temporarily for his boatwash operation, sending all craft steeply up
a conveyor. You pass through a building similar to a car wash. Hoses wash you down
while mechanized mops swab your decks. Now is an excellent opportunity to get your
helmet waxed. Just after the apex and below the spinach is the Class V crux. Keep the
nose of your kayak up as you go off the five-foot falls, and be prepared for the gigantic
wave curling off the wall before you. Follow the hard bend to the left and stay to the
outside, avoiding the giant suckhole on river left. Try to spin your boat around quickly to
catch the surf wave in the center of the wave train in the channel just below.
The spinach and giant wave spell doom for Bluto. Popeye triumphs, and the ride comes
to an end. But on the way to the take out, look for two more nice play holes, plus a spot
for a one-shot ender. The take-out is kind of hectic. As always, you have to deal with the
rafters, but there's also a revolving floor, high banks, and dock attendants that keep
telling you not stand up until your boat has come to a complete stop. Oh...and the police,
who'll be waiting to confiscate your boat and take you to straight to the brig.
—Tom Hinds
It was our third day of paddling in the Smith River National Recreation Area and
the rain hadn't let up for more than an hour at a time. A winter's day without
precipitation is the exception here in the soggy northwestern corner of California.
But nobody complained. The rain kept the river flowing.
The Smith is the only major undammed river system in California. Three forks of the river
and 45 tributaries are designated Wild and Scenic all the way from their Siskiyou
Mountains sources to the Pacific Ocean. With more than 325 miles of Wild and Scenic
river within a 400,000-acre area, the Smith is considered the "Crown Jewel of the Wild
and Scenic Rivers System." In 1990 Congress designated most of the watershed as a
National Recreation Area. Other parts are protected by the Redwood National and State
parks. Perhaps no other river in the nation is so comprehensively protected by law.
Smith Stats
Getting there: From Interstate-5 in Oregon: take US 199 south from Grant's Pass for 51
miles to enter the National Recreation Area (NRA) from the north. From US 101 along the
California or Oregon coast: take US 199 north from Crescent City for 10 miles to enter
the NRA just east of Hiouchi.
Information: More information about the NRA, outfitters, water levels and an
indispensable map titled Whitewater of the Smith River Watershed ($6) can be obtained
from Smith River NRA Headquarters, PO Box 228, Gasquet, CA 95543, (707) 457-3131.
Season: Best water levels are found October-May. Be prepared for rain during these
months. Daytime air temperatures range from 40-60 F in winter and 75-90 in summer.
Winter water temperatures range from 45-53 and 58-70 in summer.
Camping/Lodging/Dining: Four developed campgrounds and abundant primitive camping
areas can be found within the NRA. Camping is also available just outside the NRA at
Jed Smith State Park. Fine lodging and dining can be found at the Patrick Creek Lodge
along the Middle Fork. Motels, restaurants, and stores are located in Hiouchi, Gasquet,
and Crescent City.
The most basic of playboating moves is the front surf. It’s essential to all playboating; the
better you are at it, the easier it is to do other moves. Even if you're comfortable surfing
waves, the techniques here will increase your success rate and improve your rides. Each
wave is different, varying in speed, volume, steepness and accessibility. Wave surfing
revolves around putting your boat on the wave in control and adjusting for these factors.
Chasing Gear
When someone swims, don't all crowd around him. As you get into position, look for the
job that isn't being done, then do it. One person gets the swimmer, and the other gets the
gear. An efficient rescue can be amazingly quick if everyone is well practiced at the skill.
Sometimes a rescue simply takes longer than expected. If the swimmer starts to drift into
a harder rapid, everyone will be safer if you back off. Follow the swimmer and gear
through the drop, then try again. Don't chase gear through a difficult or dangerous drop.
Bulldoze or Shove
You can bulldoze a kayak into shore with your bow.
Align the boat so the upstream end is pointed slightly
towards shore, and push it in, being careful to maintain
the angle. Don't get in the way by getting between the
shore and the boat. Sometimes, a big shove can get the
boat to shore most efficiently. You'll usually leave the
boat upside down for a shove, bulldoze or tow. Only flip
it upright if you are sure you can do so without getting
much water inside.
The dams are on the Sandy and Little Sandy Rivers, which drop from the Cascade
Mountains into Portland's eastern suburbs. They aren't large, but since 1912 they've
altered the river by diverting water into flumes feeding a 22-megawatt power plant. The
proposal is greeted as a win/win for both the economy and endangered salmon and
trout. PGE spokesman Mark Fryburg hails it as the first time a utility has voluntarily
agreed to remove multiple dams before their licenses expire. "Each dam has to be
viewed separately," he says, adding that PGE was facing expensive upgrades on the
dams. "These two would not be economically feasible to operate five or six years down
the road, so this decision was good for the environment, our customers and the city, all
at once."
The state and city will pick up the $22 million price tag. The city hopes that doing so
will help it meet its own ESA obligations. "It's certain the city will have to spend millions
on ESA compliance," says Portland City Commissioner Erik Sten. "Our strategy will do
more—more quickly and cheaply—than a piecemeal, protracted process."
Although salmon are the project's primary beneficiaries, paddlers are thrilled to see the
dams go. Marmot Dam diverts water from 11 miles of the Sandy River, substantially
shortening the kayaking season on two popular stretches of river: a Class III-IV upper
section, and a Class II-III lower portion. "It's exciting to have more water and a longer
season," says Keith Jensen, co-owner of Portland's Alder Creek Kayak and Canoe.
"The Class IV is forested and roadless and is a unique canyon for being so close to
Portland." Jensen admits there's another silver lining to the dam's demise. "I bet
there's at least one good rapid behind that dam—the best on the river, that's my
prediction," he says. "Engineers don't build dams at boring spots—they pick places
with a lot of drop."
The paddling future of the Little Sandy is less certain. Ending the diversions will open
up several miles of channel year round, but the lower end of the run will cross a corner
of Portland's municipal watershed, off limits to the public. "What do you do with a river
with public access at one end and a no-trespassing zone in the middle?" Jensen asks.
He notes, however, that the intake for the city's drinking water is upstream, on a
tributary that would be inaccessible to boaters on the Little Sandy. This raises hope
that paddlers might be allowed to pass through on the Little Sandy.
Restoration of the two rivers won't be without a price to paddlers. Water currently
diverted is dumped into a third stream, the Bull Run River, 2.5 miles above its
confluence with the Sandy. Combined with the Bull Run's normal flow, this creates a
Class III run frequented by Portland-area paddlers. Although the restored Little Sandy
will continue to add its flow to this run, ending the diversions from the Sandy will
reduce flows on that section, shortening its season. Jensen calls it a fair trade-off.
"There's nothing better than the natural river," he says.
Due to their small size, the dam removals haven't drawn objections from industries that
have opposed similar proposals elsewhere. But opposition does come from fishermen
and flatwater boaters enjoying the status quo. Boaters regret losing a 600-acre holding
pond above the powerhouse, and fishermen accustomed to large hatchery fish are
concerned efforts to restore wild fish will leave them facing catch-and-release rules or
bans on fishing. River runners, meanwhile, are already celebrating. On June 16,
Jensen's business partner Steve Scherrer and a group of seven other paddlers saluted
the proposal by putting in 13 miles above Marmot Dam. They portaged the dam and
descended to gentler waters, picking up 14 other paddlers along the way. Nearly 12
hours later they pulled out on the Columbia River—1,440 feet below and 50 miles
away. By 2001, they anticipate being able to do the same run without the portage.
—Richard Lovett
Leave me in the truck for three hours? Stern squirt this, paddle boy.
You know it’s time for a new shuttle rig when you get passed by the local sugar
cane truck.
Eventually, the strain of coming up with new revolutionary slogans proved too
much for Carlos.
Merry Crashmess
● Eco Blurbs
● Hotline Blurbs
● Getting a Really Bad Buzz
● Calendar of Events for Sep/Oct
● Paddling for Hawaii's Marine
● Whitewater Video Game Wildlife
END
Cabin Comforts:
Seeking Shelter from the Storm
by Bill Sherwonit
You've seen pictures and heard stories, so you know it's true: kayakers exploring
Alaska's wild coastline paddle across glassy waters mirroring calm, cerulean skies, while
warm sunshine caresses exposed flesh. But a more realistic picture involves overcast,
rainy, 50- to 60-degree days, chilling winds, and more rain. And that's in midsummer. The
rest of the year is cooler, wetter, stormier. Calm, cloudless days are rarity in the North
Pacific. In most of Alaska's prime sea kayaking locales, you can go days or even weeks
without seeing the sun. Thank goodness, then, for public-use cabins.
Many kayakers use public cabins as a kind of "base camp" from which they explore
coastal surroundings on day-long paddling trips; long-distance voyageurs may instead
prefer to go cabin-hopping or mix cabin stays with tent camping on extended expeditions.
Whatever a kayaker's paddling strategy or desire, there's no question that cabins provide
dependable protection from Alaska's maritime weather.
Maybe it’s middle age, this desire for the simple comforts of cabins. But somehow it
makes all the difference to spend the day paddling in wet, raw, windy weather, and then,
when sufficiently soaked, return to a heated shelter. Here you can spread out your
soaked clothing, pull up a chair and read a book beside the stove, while your paddling
partner grabs fresh greens from the cooler and prepares dinner. No crowding, no leaky
tent, no soggy sleeping bag—and a lot less worry of a bear or other wild critter getting
into your food supplies.
Balancing these comforts is the wildness found just outside the cabin. Most are located in
remote areas that can be reached only by boat or plane. Built to blend with their
surroundings, many cabins are hidden beneath the forest canopy, usually within a short
hike of the beach. Virtually invisible from air or water, they have a minimal impact on the
aesthetic sensibilities of backcountry travelers.
Scattered along the North Pacific coastline, public-use cabins can be reserved in several
of Alaska's most popular sea kayaking destinations: from the Panhandle's Misty Fjords
and Admiralty Island national monuments to Southcentral Alaska's Prince William Sound,
Kodiak Archipelago and Kenai Peninsula. Besides the contacts listed for each area, a
good general reference is How to Rent a Public Cabin in Southcentral Alaska
(Wilderness Press, 1999), by Andromeda Romano-Lax.
Homer residents have officially proclaimed their community the "Halibut Capital of the
World," but they could just as easily tout their town as the gateway to Kachemak Bay
State Park. Nearly all park visits begin and end at this coastal town on the lower Kenai
Peninsula (220 road miles south of Anchorage).
Officially, there are two state parks across the bay from Homer: Kachemak Bay State
Park and Kachemak Bay State Wilderness Park. But for the most part, these side-by-side
parklands are treated as a single entity. Together they encompass 380,000 acres of
mountains, glaciers, lakes, river valleys, ice- and snow-fields, coastal rain forest, alpine
tundra, tidal marshes, sheltered bays, steep-walled fjords, waterfalls, storm-wracked
outer coast and ocean. No other Alaska state park—and only a couple national
parks—can boast such diverse habitats, wildlife and recreation.
Yet for all its abundance, Kachemak Bay remains one of Alaska's lesser-known
parklands. Visitors to Homer may marvel at the wilderness across the bay, but only one
in four will set foot in the park, less than 10 miles away. The reason is simple: access is
limited to boat or plane. Most who do cross over to the park stay within a narrow,
10-mile-long strip of coastline that boasts good fishing, excellent kayaking opportunities,
and (in summer), daily water-taxi service. It's also where the park's visitor facilities are
concentrated: ranger station, trails, campgrounds, and public-use cabins. Beyond this
thin slice of coast, the park remains primitive and largely unpeopled.
Three of Kachemak Bay's public-use cabins are clustered in coastal forest at the
southern end of Halibut Cove Lagoon, a north-south embayment due east of Homer. Built
in 1992, the Lagoon Overlook Cabin is a three-room shelter that sleeps eight people and
is heated by propane. The others, finished in 1997, are single-room cabins that sleep six
each and are heated by wood stoves. All three are 16-by-20-foot shelters with table,
benches, shelves, and counters for food preparation. Besides giving access to prime
paddling, the cabins are near 40 miles of forest trail.
Weather permitting, kayakers may paddle six miles across often-turbulent Kachemak
Bay, into Halibut Cove Lagoon. Another option is to catch one of Homer's water taxis.
Because of water depths and tidal currents, boaters are advised to enter and exit the
lagoon only at high tide; this may restrict cabin-based paddlers who wish to explore
wilderness coastline beyond the lagoon. Kayakers desiring an even more remote setting
might prefer the Sea Star Cove cabin, located on a wooded knoll above Tutka Bay, about
13 nautical miles from the Homer Spit. Also served by water taxi, this 16-by-16 cabin
sleeps six on foam-padded bunks, is wood heated, and it too has table, benches and
counter.
Whatever cabin site they choose, visitors are likely to encounter lots of coastal wildlife.
Puffins, kittiwakes, cormorants, bald eagles, sea otters, seals, porpoises and whales are
among the animals that make Kachemak Bay State Park their seasonal home.
Among Alaska's most popular wildlands, 580,000-acre Kenai Fjords National Park is
known for its abundant marine wildlife, tidewater glaciers and, of course, coastal fjords:
long and steep-sided glacially carved valleys now filled with seawater. Those attractions,
combined with a bounty of remote and seldom-visited wilderness coastline, have made
Kenai Fjords one of the state's premier sea kayaking destinations. In all but the most
accessible fjords, ocean paddlers can go days or perhaps even weeks without meeting
another person.
Kenai Fjords' most heavily used coastal area, by far, is Aialik Bay. Mostly this is because
of access: Aialik is the nearest fjord to Seward, a coastal town 120 highway miles south
of Anchorage and the park's primary gateway. Only 20 air miles from Seward, Aialik Bay
is 50 miles distant by water, across often rough seas; thus many kayakers travel here on
charters or tour boats that visit regularly in summer. Besides easy access, the bay's chief
attraction is Aialik Glacier, whose tidewater face calves immense blocks of pale blue ice
into the ocean, accompanied by thundering booms. There's also the ruggedly beautiful
landscape and plentiful wildlife: bald eagles, ravens, several species of shorebirds and
seabirds, sea otters, seals, porpoises, and occasionally whales, black bears, or mountain
goats. One final appeal: for those who want dependable shelter from the often wet, cool
and windy weather, Aialik has one of the park's three coastal cabins (available only from
late May through late September). Like the others, Aialik's is a spacious 16-by-24-foot
cedar-sided cabin with front porch, dining table and chairs, work counter, oil-fueled stove,
and bunkbeds. This one, however, also has a couch and sleeps only four. It can be
reserved for three nights only, making your stay a brief one if stormy weather delays your
arrival.
Eight paddling miles from the Aialik cabin is another cabin at Holgate Arm, a fjord
frequently visited by tour boats and coastal kayakers. Holgate too has a tidewater glacier,
and it's close enough to Seward that coastal tours come daily. The cabin, with bunks for
six, presents a spectacular front-porch view of Holgate Glacier's calving snout; visitors
also are likely to see humpback whales. This cabin, like Aialik Bay's, has a three-day
limit.
The most remote of Kenai Fjords' coastal cabins is the one at North Arm, in the park's
southwest corner. This cabin sleeps six and is most easily reached by plane from Homer,
35 miles away by air (and much farther by water). Unlike the other two, North Arm is
immersed in wilderness solitude: no tour boats and few other visitors come here. And
because demand isn't as high, this cabin can be reserved for up to nine days. Another
alternative, for those exploring the lower Kenai Peninsula, are three state park cabins
located along the shores of Resurrection Bay within seven miles of Seward. Named the
Caines Head and Thumb Cove cabins, they each sleep eight people. Though not nearly
as remote as Kenai Fjords, Resurrection Bay presents excellent opportunities for coastal
exploring and marine wildlife viewing.
Cost: $35
Reservations: Can be made the first working day of January.
Maximum stay: 3 to 9 nights.
For more information: Kenai Fjords National Park, P.O. Box 1727, Seward, AK 99664;
(907) 224-3175.
Cost: $50
Reservations: Up to 6 months in advance.
Maximum stay: 7 nights.
For more information: Alaska DNR Public Information Center, 3601 C St., Suite 200,
Anchorage, AK 99503; (907) 269-8400.
Though perhaps best known outside Alaska as the site of the 1989 Exxon Valdez oil spill,
Prince William Sound is locally revered as one of the state's premier backcountry
paddling playgrounds. (Not all of the Sound was harmed by the spill a decade ago; of the
parts that were, some have recovered while other portions are in various stages of
recuperation.)
Tucked into a corner of Alaska's Gulf Coast and ringed by a curving wall of mountains
and icefields, the Sound is a 15,000-square-mile wilderness area that's a special favorite
of Anchorage-area kayakers. And for good reason: with 3,500 miles of shoreline, a
multitude of protected bays, passages, and inlets, plus relatively easy access from
Anchorage via the town of Whittier, Prince William Sound offers a full spectrum of sea
kayaking experiences, from low-budget weekend affairs to month-long expeditions.
Besides limitless opportunities to explore a largely wilderness coastline, kayakers are
likely to share the land- and seascape with an abundance of wildlife, from seals to sea
otters, sea lions, bald eagles, seabirds and shorebirds, brown bears, and whales.
For all its great appeal, Prince William Sound—like much of coastal Alaska—is notorious
for its wet and often stormy weather. Come here expecting to get soaked. Fortunately,
more than 20 public-use cabins are scattered throughout the region, including the
Cordova area at the Sound's eastern edge; nearly all are along the coast or a short hike
away. Several of the cabins are most easily reached from Whittier; others are closer to
the communities of Cordova, Valdez, or Seward. A few cabins are within a day's
kayaking journey of towns, but many, like those on Montague and Hinchinbrook islands,
are 50 miles or more from any port. Charter boats or air taxis can be arranged for
transportation to and from cabin sites.
Managed by the Forest Service, these cabins come in several styles: natural log, A-frame
with loft, and pan-abode frame. All are furnished with table and benches, oil or wood
stoves, and wooden bunks for four to eight people. None have cooking utensils or
bedding. In most cases, visitors are expected to provide their own heating fuel, whether
wood or stove oil. Here, as in other areas, drinking water is normally available from
creeks or lakes; to ensure protection from giardia, be sure to boil or treat your water.
A couple of cautionary notes: the solitude to be found in much of the region may
gradually disappear; a new road linking Whittier to the state's highway system is
expected to greatly increase boating traffic within the Sound. And some areas within the
sound have been logged by Native corporations that own land inside Chugach National
Forest. When making cabin reservations, be sure to ask if timber harvesting has occurred
nearby.
With more than 90 percent of its area protected as national monument wilderness,
100-mile-long Admiralty Island has Southeast Alaska's largest intact expanse of
old-growth rain forest. That forest is home to some 1,200 brown bears or about one bear
for every square mile. No wonder, then, that Tlingit Indians named the island
Kootznoowoo, or "Fortress of the Bears." Those bears are most easily seen at Pack
Creek, a viewing area co-managed by the U.S. Forest Service and Alaska Department of
Fish and Game; but visitors may encounter bears anywhere on the island.
The forest is also home to Sitka black-tailed deer, beavers, squirrels, river otters, mink,
and the nation's densest population of nesting bald eagles. Researchers have located
nearly 1,000 eagle nests along the island's wooded perimeter. Both eagles and bears
feed heavily on the five species of Pacific salmon that return to spawn in hundreds of
Admiralty's streams.
Along the coast, Admiralty's waters are inhabited by sea otters, sea lions, seals,
porpoises, killer and humpback whales, and diverse populations of shorebirds and
seabirds. Kayakers who come here can therefore combine wilderness paddling with
some of Alaska's finest wildlife-viewing opportunities.
Fifteen public-use cabins managed by the Forest Service are scattered around Admiralty,
but only a few of them are along the coast. The majority are on inland lakes, including
several on the east-west Cross Admiralty Canoe Route. Two public cabins (Church Bight
and Pybus Bay) are located near Admiralty's southern end, while a third is at the northern
tip. The latter, at Admiralty Cove, is only 10 air miles from Juneau, Alaska's capitol, and is
easily reached by either plane or boat. Located in the forest about a half-mile from the
beach, this 14-by-16-foot cabin sleeps six and is heated by a wood stove. Some 60 air
miles south of Juneau, the Church Bight and Pybus Bay shelters are A-frame cabins with
bunks for five and eight people, respectively, plus loft space; they too are heated by wood
stove. All three have tables, chairs or benches, and counter space.
There's also an Alaska State Parks cabin, within Oliver Inlet State Marine Park on
Admiralty's northwest corner. Located on tidal flats near a popular portage that connects
Seymour Canal with Stephens Passage, this cabin is 15 miles from Juneau and can be
easily reached only by boat. It sleeps six people and has both an oil and wood stove.
Cost: $35
Reservations: Up to 180 days in advance.
Maximum stay: 7 days in summer, 10 in winter.
For more information: U.S. Forest Service Visitor Center, Tongass National Forest, 101
Egan Drive, Juneau, AK 99801; (907) 586-8751; call (877) 444-6777 for reservations.
Cost: $25
Reservations: Up to 6 months in advance.
Maximum stay: 4 days.
For more information: Alaska State Parks, Southeast Regional Office, 400 Willoughby
Ave., Third Floor, Juneau, AK 99801; (907) 465-4563.
At the southernmost tip of Alaska's Panhandle, Misty Fjords National Monument remains
one of the state's little known jewels, whose 2.3 million acres—all but 152,000 of them
designated wilderness—encompass old growth rain forest, granite peaks, active glaciers,
rugged sea cliffs, waterfalls, mineral springs and hanging valleys. Brown bears share
forest and alpine valleys with Sitka black-tailed deer, wolves, and mountain goats, while
sea lions, sea otters, seals, porpoises and whales inhabit coastal waters. All five types of
Pacific salmon return to the monument's rivers and creeks, and resident avian species
range from bald eagles to trumpeter swans, hummingbirds, and numerous seabirds and
songbirds.
One of Alaska's wettest areas, Misty Fjords is annually drenched by more than 14 feet of
rain. Still, it's an ideal escape for kayakers seeking solitude, adventure and ruggedly
beautiful terrain. Glaciers have carved numerous steep-walled fjords, up to 25 miles long,
into the landscape. And 110-mile-long Behm Canal provides access to the heart of the
monument and its many dramatic arms, coves and bays.
Finding good shoreline campsites can be a challenge because of extreme tidal
fluctuations of up to 25 feet per day. Sea kayakers are therefore advised to camp in the
forest, well above the high-tide line—or they can reserve space in two public-use cabins
along Behm Canal (a dozen other recreational cabins are located on inland lakes). Both
the Alva Bay and Winstanley Island cabins can be reached by boat or floatplane from the
town of Ketchikan, 22 miles west of the monument's borders. Paddling distance from
Ketchikan to Alva Bay and Winstanley is about 25 and 45 miles, respectively.
Built right along the beach, both buildings are 12-by-14-foot cedar log cabins that sleep
up to six people. They're heated by wood-burning stoves and have the usual complement
of table, cooking counter, shelves or cupboard space, and outhouse. Each cabin is within
a day's kayaking journey of the narrow, steep-sided fjords that project, finger-like, from
Behm Canal and cut, in spectacular fashion, into the rugged mountain landscape. Good
coastal hiking and beach combing are also possible at the sites.
—Bill Sherwonit is a nature writer and author of Alaska's Accessible Wilderness: A
Traveler's Guide to Alaska's State Parks. He lives in Anchorage.
Cabin Beta:
Cost: $35
Reservations: Up to 180 days in advance.
Maximum stay: 7 days.
For more information: Misty Fjords National Monument, 3031 N. Tongass Ave.,
Ketchikan, AK 99801; (907) 225-0414; for reservations call (877) 444-6777.
There are very few Class VI rapids that I regret portaging. Except for the one in the Black
Canyon of Colorado's Gunnison River. This mile-long slog bypasses a series of Class VI
rapids, but passes right through a jungle of Class VII poison ivy. While the odds of
surviving this section of whitewater are not good, at least you wouldn't have go through
what I did the week after taking out.
Located in Black Canyon National Monument between Montrose and Gunnison, this
deep, dark abyss is perhaps Colorado's most adventurous whitewater run. While some
have paddled it in a day, it's usually done as a multi-day self-support trip, for experts only.
But if you're planning on packing light, you'd better not skimp on the Calamine. After our
one-day assault a few years ago, my hind (and other) quarters were so festered with the
resultant rash that I couldn't sit down for an entire week.
The portage begins just after a runnable 18-foot waterfall, but just before the river
disappears into a sieve. While some have attempted to run this section, it has proven
fatal, most recently in 1997 to well-known kayaker Chuck Kern. After taking out, the
portage requires shouldering your boat two-thirds of a mile up, over and around a
landscape of car-sized boulders. This is usually done in extreme temperatures, which can
exceed 100 degrees F, especially in the afternoon when the canyon's massive black
walls have soaked up the southern Colorado sun. Ambushing the passages between
these boulders is a network of shiny three-pronged leaves. Don't let the temperature
seduce you into removing your wetsuit and paddle jacket. Dehydration and heat
exhaustion are preferable to what's in store. In addition to protecting you from poison ivy,
your wetsuit might also insulate you from the canyon's blood-thirsty ticks.
After the first two-thirds of a mile, the portage resumes on the river's south side. Ferry
across to the must-make eddy before the river again disappears underground. From
here, you have no choice but to tiptoe through another poison ivy jungle. Another ferry
back across to the north side brings you to aptly named S.O.B. Gully, also lined with
poison ivy. After this final portage, it is advised to remove all your boating gear and scrub
it and yourself with soap and water before continuing into the more placid Gunnison
Gorge. A final piece of advice: scrub your kayak seat too. The plant's insidious oils tend
to collect there between portages. Take it from me—that's one place you really don't want
to get itchy blisters.
—Bruce Edgerly
The ivy that inhabits Colorado's Dolores River corridor is unusual stuff. You can merrily
float for miles without seeing a trace of it. Yet anywhere you decide to stop—the ivy has
anticipated you. It's uncanny...spooky...unnatural.
The Anasazi cliff dwellings near Mountain Sheep Point require a steep climb of a couple
of hundred feet. All of the routes are infested with ivy. Caressed by the breeze, it reaches
to embrace your ankles, shins, to kiss your hands and forearms as you scramble for
purchase. At Snaggletooth Rapid, a long Class IV, changing water levels usually dictate a
quick reconnoiter from shore. Or a portage for the less experienced. Good luck. Ivy has
claimed all the best scout and photo rocks, all the easiest trails. Camp at any of the
spectacular sandstone overhangs and commune with the Ancients by studying their rich
pictograph and petroglyph rock art. Just don't forget to sidestep the gauntlet of insistent,
creeping ivy. Coyote Wash is perhaps the best side hike on the entire river. Guess what?
It too is lined with poison ivy. And that goes for the toxic-green explosions in Bull Canyon
and Spring Canyon, as well
It has not escaped my notice that this part of the Colorado Plateau was a quiet place until
somebody discovered carnotite. The towns of Nucla, Uravan and Bedrock sprang up
overnight. All to extract the rich, radioactive uranium ore. All to support the nation’s
budding nuclear program. Am I suggesting a connection? Suggesting that this particular
strain of ivy has somehow mutated? That it glows in the dark and can read human
thoughts? Has evil intent? Of course not. It is mere coincidence.
The morning I awoke to find my tent completely encircled by tiny, grasping ivy sprouts
was decidedly my own fault. I must have been beered-up or preoccupied. Surely, the
plants were there the previous evening. Until I find poison ivy secreted in one of my very
own pockets, it is way too soon to involve that X-Files bunch. I'm quite convinced that
there's a perfectly reasonable explanation.
—David Regela
While the gorge itself is a dramatic slash in the 30-mile-wide Taos Plateau, the vegetation
in this precipitous canyon is limited to a few hardy species that can abide the
nutrient-poor soils painstakingly weathered from the black basalt. In short, ivy rules. A
few scraggly hackberry trees and some junipers survive rather than thrive. Even the
ubiquitous tamarisk is subdued in this environment. Woodbine appears sporadically. Ivy
is everywhere.
The Taos Box (Lower Box) of the Rio Grande is almost always run as a day trip in
deference to the ivy and the infrequency of level terrain. A geologic infant, the canyon
has not had sufficient time to provide all the usual amenities. Experienced boaters may
not bank-scout any of the numerous Class III-IV drops, but several distinct horizon lines
suggest a nature romp to the uninitiated. Hydraulics increase with high water, people
have bad days, get intimidated, and decide to scout. Invariably, they eat ivy.
I once attempted to mentor a group of six self-proclaimed outdoorsmen down this stretch
of whitewater. They flailed, floundered, and generally refused to follow where I led. I
made the command decision to land above a couple of the more vertical rapids so they
could view the proper lines. By the time I realized that these guys were oblivious to the
botanic peril, were literally wallowing on the ivy, I found I lacked the fortitude to further
demean them by calling this minor faux pas to their collective attention. Because of my
lack of guts, I was forced to put my home phone on an answering machine and ignore the
doorbell for two years. (Informants revealed that they failed to renew the contract on my
life.) Experience, as always, teaches even the most reluctant, and I have developed a
special mantra, applicable to this river only: "When in doubt, don't scout." Stay out on the
water—where it's safe.
—David Regela
Don't get me wrong. I love Northern California's Cal Salmon River. In fact, this 19-mile
Class IV-V whitewater wonderland is one of my favorite rivers in the West. From the
put-in at Forks of the Salmon to the take-out at Somes Bar 30 miles from the Pacific
Ocean, the river, a major tributary to the Klamath, drops nearly 600 feet. But every time I
think of the river's emerald pools and crystalline falls, I begin to itch. It's kind of a
regressive behavior, I know. But if I spend a minute thinking about it, the reason for my
itching becomes apparent.
The Cal Salmon is notorious for poison oak. They even named one of my favorite
camping areas after the stuff: Oak Bottom. Sure, there are oak trees there, but the poison
oak shrubs rule their larger brethren. I can't think of a single Cal Salmon trip that didn't
send me home with a red, irritating souvenir. Step a foot off the trail while putting in or
taking out and voila...poison oak city. Venture into the woods to answer the call of nature
and you're asking for trouble. Do both and your skin will light up like Rudolph's nose. I'm
now so confident in my ability to contract poison oak at the Cal Salmon that I call my
doctor before my trip to schedule steroid injections for when I return.
Of course, don't let my babble dissuade you. Maybe your skin is tougher than mine.
Maybe you like playing connect-the-dots with your blisters. And maybe you're like me:
you're willing to itch a little in order to experience some of the best whitewater in the
West.
—Jeff Bennett
It's hard to pin-point a run known for poison oak in California. "There's no one run
notorious for it," maintains long-time Californian kayaker Lars Holbek. "That's because
there's poison oak on every river in California...it just depends on how much walking you
do." Nevertheless, at least one veteran paddler in every kayaking clique swears off the
Upper Tuolumne's Cherry Creek. "I never caught it there because I'm not allergic to the
stuff," says Jim Cassady, owner of El Sobrante, Calif.'s Pacific Water Sports and author
of Western Whitewater and World Whitewater. "But when we used to run it in the olden
days, everyone else would balloon up a day or two after the run and I wouldn't. It made
them all furious with me."
The epidermis damage, he says, usually occurs towards the end of the run at Flat Rock
and Lumpsen falls. If you don't run the Class V rapids, you have to portage on river left
through fields of poison oak. "It's notorious for the stuff," maintains Cassady. "And the
portage is at the end of the run, so you're usually tired and not really paying attention to
what you're doing and where you're walking." Of course, there's also the option of
running the Class V drops, which is perhaps the main reason poison oak cases have
declined in recent years: more people are running the falls. "I don't think people portage it
as much as we did in the olden days," says Cassady. "That keeps them from catching
it—but it's still there, waiting."
—edb
Before Idaho's John Wasson made the first descent of southeast Idaho's Blackfoot River,
he hired a plane and flew over the canyon to give it a cursory scout. What he saw was
eight miles of Class IV water with a 79 foot-per-mile gradient. It's what he didn't see that
proved more trying. "We couldn't see the poison ivy from the air," he says. "Turns out it
was all over the place."
That, of course, is a gross understatement. A steep basalt corridor marking the eastern
boundary of the Fort Hall Indian Reservation, the canyon gets its 500 cfs average
summer flow from the Blackfoot Dam upstream. The dam, however, prevents the canyon
from ever getting flushed, and the result, as one guidebook puts it, "is a huge forest of
poison ivy growing right up to and into the river." If you're caught on shore, there's no
getting around it. "There aren't any beaches, just poison ivy and brush right to the
waterline," says Wasson, who harbors an extreme allergy to the plant. "At first you try to
tip-toe through the stuff, but ultimately you end up wading through chest-high fields of it.
Making matters worse is that you're always hot and sweaty down there anyway."
How insidious is the Blackfoot's ivy? Wasson remembers one story of a kayaker who
paddled the section with a wetsuit so he could wade through the ivy fields without fear.
The tactic worked okay on that trip, but six months later he pulled out the same wetsuit
and caught a severe case of the rash; the stuff had been incubating inside all winter,
waiting for an unsuspecting victim.
—edb
They don't call this Hells Canyon for nothing. The various place names—Seven Devils,
Slaughter Bar, Suicide Point, etc.—suggest to the aspiring boater that some folks may
have found this place a tad inhospitable. Ivy, make no mistake, tops the list.
This is a big, rugged, arid canyon. Shade and fresh potable water are a premium to
boaters, and lamentably, the ivy has co-opted most of the shade and all of the
side-stream water sources. And most of the dense shrubbery that lines the river banks is
also ivy at its best. For those who like diversity, the ivy provides it. Both the upright, erect
forms, and climbing types are found here. Because of the dry heat, the ivy might be
glossy or dull, a lush green, yellow or vivid red. Quite an eye-catching palette.
For those lucky, prudent boaters who manage to avoid the volatile, resinous plant, and in
so doing are impervious to the temptations provided by conveniently located Suicide
Point, the canyon has other charms—110-degree temperatures in the summertime, with
rocks that radiate the heat long into the night, and abundant rattlesnakes, black widows
and ticks. It also has a local "mugger" bear population that is fond of, and adept at,
raiding campsites. Have yourself one helluva of a trip.
—David Regela
If a run's guidebook carries a warning about poison ivy, you can rest assured the section
has more than a stray patch or two. In their write-up on southwestern Idaho's Bruneau
River, Greg Moore and Dan McClaran, authors of Idaho Whitewater, go so far as to put
the warning in bold.
"I'd never want to fall out of a boat there," maintains Boise photographer Steve Bly, who
has made several poison ivy-dodging pilgrimages to the southwestern Idaho waterway.
"It's all over the place, right down to the river."
The Bruneau likely gets its name from a combination of the French words "brun" and
"eau," meaning "brown water." If its early explorers had been paddlers, they might well
have named it for a word meaning red skin. The 40-mile trip starts just below the
confluence of the Jarbridge River and the Bruneau's West Fork, taking paddlers down a
canyon carved deep in a rhyolite and basalt plateau created by volcanic eruptions. If
you're not careful along the way, however, your skin will erupt with as much force as the
ancient volcanoes. Fences of poison ivy block much of the bank from put-in to take-out,
making crawling out of the river after a swim the worse of two evils. Foot-wide trails
leading from the river to campsites are more or less free of the stuff, but step off the
beaten path and get ready for a scratch fest. When we paddled the Bruneau in 1997, we
played "Paper, Scissors, Rock" every morning to see who had to untie the raft's bowlines
from their nighttime anchors, pull them through hedges of poison ivy and then coil them. I
lost twice, and even gloves and long-sleeves didn't keep my skin from developing the
tell-tale Bruneau bubble.
—edb
"I don't know which is more dangerous," says slalom racer Abel Hastings of Bryson City,
N.C. "Running the rapid or portaging it."
Hastings, a veteran of countless runs down North Carolina's Green River, is referring to
the notorious Gorilla, a Class V waterfall that has itself been known to make people break
out in hives. It's the rash caused by plants flanking it, however, that often does more
damage. "There's definitely a lot of poison ivy everywhere around the rapid," says
Hastings. "Most people say you're better off running it than portaging it."
The horizon line to Gorilla shows itself after Chief, a rapid just upstream. At the entrance
to Gorilla, those deciding to brave the foliage get out on river left at a tiny beach. The
beach quickly gives way, however, to a rocky slope covered with poison ivy. Dodging it,
says Hastings, is futile. "Some people take a bottle of Dr. Bonner's with them to scrub-up
right after the portage," he says. "But that can be dangerous too because it's kind of
slippery." Hastings admits to having never gotten poison ivy on the run, largely because
of ritualistic body-washing immediately after every run. Those who don't follow this
practice are usually less fortunate than even those who have bad lines through the rapid.
—edb
While sightseers come to Highlands and Franklin, N.C., to marvel at 400-foot Cullasaja
Falls on the Cullasaja River, paddlers come to boat the two-mile, Class V section just
below the falls. The wise ones pay attention to more than the run's 600-foot-per-mile
gradient. Those who don't often wind-up with skin bubbling like the run's Class V
whitewater.
The culprit is poison ivy, which flanks a 300-foot descent down to the river at the put-in. If
you're lucky enough to avoid it there, next you have to deal with two Class V rapids called
Eclipse and Next Time. At low water, paddlers up to the task can escape unscathed by
running the drops. If they're not feeling up to the task, they can also portage along the
right bank at river level—away from the tentacles of poison ivy. Those opting to portage
both rapids at once, however, face a different hurdle; they have to follow a trail higher on
the bank that harbors hordes of the three-leafed vine. The same trail also has to be used
during high water runs when the riverside portage is awash.
"As soon as we start getting spring rains, the stuff starts coming out like crazy," says the
Nantahala Outdoor Center's Bobby Hartridge, who paddles the run regularly. "The poison
ivy there can be pretty brutal."
—edb
Chasing Guinness
Thinking they'd only be gone three months, a pair of
Brits take three years to set a new world canoe record
Story and photos by Neil Armstrong and Chris Maguiret
So you want to set a world canoe record? Start off by having no canoeing experience;
don't do any research about where you're going; get no sponsorships and go broke
before you reach halfway; begin each day late and end early; pick up some frostbite on
the Mississippi; portage—and battle heat exhaustion—75 miles with an armed guard
across a Colombian desert; crash into rocky beaches; get robbed; dodge bullets and
mosquitoes and biting flies and killer bees; and have an enormous amount of luck. Above
all, don't set out to set the record.
That's the way we did it. After 9,966,420 paddle strokes we set a new world record by
traveling 13,028 miles by canoe—from Medicine Hat, Alberta, to the mouth of the
Amazon River at Belem, Brazil. And it only took us three years.
We just drove to a canoe shop and bought what looked good and what folks told us we
might need. Verlen says he never carried a thing that wasn't essential and it had to be
the best. We just loaded up until we had 500 pounds of junk crammed into a 17.5-foot
Clipper Tripper—Neil's father called it “fitting 10 pounds of shit into a five-pound bag.” We
had about two inches of freeboard when we set out that gray morning July 12, 1993.
Not much thought went into leaving from Medicine Hat either. The original plan was to
leave from Winnipeg, where Don started his record journey. If we had retraced his route,
all we would have done was equal his record. By starting 847 miles further west, we
would break that record, but that wasn't the reason we started in Medicine Hat since we
had no idea at the time that we'd be going on to Brazil. The real reason was that Neil
doubted the canoe would survive on an old rack on an old car traveling the 800 road
miles from Medicine Hat to Winnipeg.
Neil believed we could get to Winnipeg on the water. The South Saskatchewan flowed
into Lake Diefenbaker and on the map it looked like the Qu'Apelle River might connect
the lake to the Assiniboine River into Winnipeg. Neil called parks officials to see if it was
possible. One ranger said although the Qu'Apelle was usually very low at that time of
year, recent flooding might have given it enough water to float on. It was possible, but we
wouldn't know for certain until we got there.
Originally, we were going to paddle from Alberta to the mouth of the Rio Grande in
Mexico. Everyone made such a big thing about our lack of canoeing experience. What's
so difficult about paddling? we thought. You just stick the thing in the water, pull it back
and do it again. By deciding to leave from Medicine Hat, though, we'd already altered the
original plan. That many more river miles meant an additional month of paddling. The
three-month holiday was suddenly four. Little did anyone know we'd be gone for three
years.
Even though we didn't know what we were doing, simply because we were doing it
people assumed we were experts on canoeing. It was unsettling to have bona fide
experts ask our advice on paddling matters when we didn't have a clue. We'd just kind of
laugh and turn the question back on them: "Well, how do you do it?" When people asked
why we were doing this, we had a difficult time answering. People wanted us to say it
was some life-long dream, or perhaps some other personal quest with soaring
aspirations. We really just wanted to have an adventure, to have a good time and do
something a little different. Canoeing is a sport, it's healthy, and it's a great way to meet a
lot of people.
That's all that gripped us. And for Chris, it wasn't even that important. His view of the trip
was just a couple months floating down a river, a little summer diversion. If he'd known
the three months would become three years, he might have said that it wasn't the sort of
adventure he had in mind. People were shocked when we talked about the distances,
even when we were still just going to Mexico. When we'd say we were paddling to
Mexico, there'd be complete looks of horror and amazement. Nobody could quite come to
grips with this distance in a canoe. And why in a canoe? Why not take the bus or fly.
Where's your motor? Why not a big boat?
People always said, "You'll never make it." Even when we were around hard-core
canoeists, people who we thought might have been a little more supportive, we'd hear
negative comments. Like the time we spent in Minneapolis, which has a great canoeing
community. Paddlers told us we'd get frozen in before we ever got out of Iowa. We
ignored them. It wasn't that we became arrogant, particularly, it was just that we'd heard
so much advice from so many people warning us about so many dangerous spots in so
many rivers, and yet most of the time that spot would be nothing. Maybe 10 years ago,
someone's best friend's second cousin went out and overturned a canoe, therefore that
spot's dangerous. It got to a point where we'd listen and be polite, but not pay much
attention. We had more faith.
Of course, we didn't believe the Mississippi River could freeze. Wasn't it too big and
flowing too fast? (Someone told us it flowed at 40 miles per hour. At that speed, what
barge would ever need a tugboat?) Then we saw these photos of barges stuck in the
middle of the river and we said, yup, it freezes, but still we figured it wasn’t going to
happen to us.
At first, we were still building up our stamina so as soon as one would suggest a rest stop
the other would instantly agree. That was especially true when we'd spy a "magic
Budweiser sign." We would meet people who would buy us a beer, and sometimes the
bartender would even give us a free six-pack. It's not that we'd ask for this, people were
just offering it to us all the time and we're very polite, very British. It's rude not to accept.
But that meant we were stopping early, drinking and telling tales until the bar would close,
then not getting back on the river until perhaps 11 a.m.
Through Canada and much of the northern U.S., we plied our "water trick" in an effort to
get the sort of creature comforts most folks take for granted. This is the way it worked:
When we got to a city, we'd look for a safe, comfortable campsite. We would go up and
ask for water. If we knew they couldn't see the canoe, we'd put our life jackets on just so
they'd know how we were traveling. Even if we had water, we'd empty it out and just go
up there and look pitiful. The husband would always approach us first and we'd ask him
for some water. When he'd give us the water, we'd ask if there was anywhere we could
camp, get talking about our trip and ultimately get talking about his yard. We'd ask if we
could camp there, and he'd go back and check with his wife. We'd kind of joke about it, to
see how long it would take the wife to come out. We knew if it was a long time, they
wouldn't want us there. But no one ever refused us. It was always just whether or not
they would invite us in for supper. Sometimes we'd spend a little longer putting up the
tent, just in case they did. Many times we'd even get a hot shower or invited in to sleep in
a real bed. We'd joke about it to ourselves just because it happened with such alarming
regularity, but we were very appreciative of it.
By November we were on the Mississippi and heading south. The weather was getting
very cold and we started to worry the river might actually freeze before we could get far
enough south. Waking up in the morning, we broke ice from the tent, packed up, and
cracked through ice with our paddles to make headway. We were miserable. Our original
plan called for us to be in Mexico by December, but in mid-December we were only at St.
Louis, where we stopped for a couple of days to get warm again.
Chris noticed his toes were swollen and one developed several interesting colors and a
disagreeable smell. We saw a doctor who said the problem was frostbite. Chris was
thinking the doctor was just going to inspect his toes and fingers, but out came a scalpel
and the doctor quickly sliced off bits of Chris's toe. He dug deep because you have to get
rid of all the bacteria that's in there. Then he grabbed Chris's finger and started cutting
bits off. Chris's only anesthetic was to grip the edge of the bench. Now Chris has
something to remember St. Louis by: no top to his big toe and a rather sensuous
indentation on his left index finger where flesh once was.
We arrived in New Orleans in February, and spent two weeks recuperating in the City
That Care Forgot. We were just in time for Mardi Gras, a celebration we had never seen
before. We attended several parades, just watching at first, but it wasn't long before we
were diving for those cheap plastic beads along with everyone else.
Once we left New Orleans, we had a leisurely paddle along the Inter-Coastal Waterway
to Houston where we officially became the British Canoe Expedition, deciding to see if we
could paddle to the Amazon. Why not continue into different cultures? We knew 11 more
countries lay ahead, and we could paddle the great Amazon River. All these countries
we'd probably never have the opportunity to see again, especially the small villages
inaccessible to regular tourists.
Our families back home thought going on was great. All the cold weather was firmly
behind us. We'd come about 4,500 miles with about 9,000 more to go—we were already
a third of the way there. So why not? All we needed was a lot of faith and a little bit of
ignorance. After all, ignorance had gotten us that far.
Spending time in Houston helped us significantly. First, Bruce Gillan, a canoe shop
owner, gave us much needed instruction, outfitted us with paddles of the correct size,
and helped install a rudder Verlen made for us. We went on a radio show and just read
off a list of things we needed. We got all we asked for, including vaccinations. We visited
the consuls of all the countries we would be passing through, and the British consul, to
get letters of safe passage. That idea came from Verlen, and it was probably the smartest
thing we ever did. We used those letters all the time, and they got us out of many serious
jams. One of them helped save our lives.
As we paddled away from Houston we had about $1,000 each. Not much, but we weren't
traveling like tourists. We carried our own transportation and lodging, and food was
relatively cheap in Central and South America. Many people thought we had rich families
subsidizing the journey, asking us, "Hey, where's your Daddy's gold card?" and all that,
but every penny we had we saved from working. In fact, we ran out of money in Mexico.
So we learned how to make hats from palm fronds, and that basically subsidized the rest
of the trip. Of course, people weren't just buying the hats because they were wonderful
hats—although they were quite stylish and well-made—but it was a way of giving us
donations and getting something back, a souvenir of our adventure, a way for each of
them to feel they were a part of it.
We made considerable money from those hats. Every day we'd go to a dock in Cancun
where we knew American tourists would arrive, and would sit in front of the canoe with a
big sign behind us that said, "British Canoe Expedition: World Record Challenge.
Donations Welcome," making it all quite official, so they could see we weren't joking.
We'd sit and weave hats and people would come up and give us money. We got some
$100 donations, which was kind of surprising. And some people actually liked the hats.
The first time we were robbed was in November along the Mexican coast when a man
came up to our tent at about 2 a.m., poking us awake with a stick and demanding
"Dinero! Dinero!" When we stuck our heads out of the tent to see what was going on, he
brandished a knife and repeated his demand for money. We'd never seriously thought
about robbery before this. Chris shook six pesos out of a bag, hoping the man would
leave, but the bandit put his knife to Chris' throat shouting, "Mas dinero!" We didn't panic.
We just kept asking each other how to get out of it, speaking in English, while the
stranger kept a knife poked at Chris, now almost piercing his side.
We wondered if we should use our pepper spray, but thought if we did, the man might
stab Chris in his panic. We thought of the flare gun and scrambled for it while Chris
shouted, "Shoot him! Shoot him!" But the thief jumped Neil. Neil slapped the man in the
face and fell away to avoid the knife, his heart thumping and his face flamed with anger.
Neil found the pepper spray and gave the robber a full dose. The robber and Neil ran off
in opposite directions, the thief turning his attention back to Chris. Neil found the flare gun
and tried to load it as Chris doubled back to camp. It seemed a comical sight, Chris
running by in his underwear yelling, "Shoot him!" as he's chased by a crazed bandido
with a scarf over his head.
Chris tired of waiting for Neil to save the day and ran down the beach toward a camp of
fishermen, trying to remember the Spanish word for help. What he got out was, "Socorro!
Socorro! Loco hombre! Bandido!" The fishermen ran the thief off. That robbery was
nothing compared to what happened in July near Sandy Bay Sirpi in Nicaragua, the most
traumatic events of our lives.
We camped back in the bush as rain fell. Three men approached in a motorboat, each
holding a machete and acting very suspicious. They asked what was in the canoe, what
was in our bags, demanding that we let them see. Our bright yellow camera cases held
their attention as they shouted something about marijuana and cocaine. We told them we
were waiting for friends who would return at any moment, but they demanded to search
our bags. They wanted everything we had, our waterproofs, watches, cameras, but we
kept refusing. Finally they left, saying they would be back.
We quickly loaded up and launched through surf. We had two options, paddle far off
shore to pass town or go back north and hide in the bush. A storm was quickly
approaching and they had a motor on their boat, so we knew we couldn't get by them.
We headed back up the beach, paddling like crazy against the current and wind, looking
for a clearing to hide behind. We dragged the canoe up the beach and about 300 yards
into a mangrove swamp. Our plan was to wait until dark, load up and sneak past them.
We sat in the bush, whispering, drinking coffee, and eating biscuits. The rain fell heavier
and we started shivering, then, as dusk arrived, so did the mosquitoes. We got the
parawing out and just laid it over us, huddling in the middle of that swamp, soaked, as the
temperature dropped. We heard a noise. Was it thunder or a gun? We sat up, frozen,
waiting, then all hell broke loose. We heard two more gunshots and saw the flashes. We
kicked off our shelter and ran.
As they chased us, firing their weapons, we got down on our bellies, crawling over
mangrove roots and struggling through vines in the blackness. Before long, we couldn't
move and huddled against the roots in six inches of water. “The expedition's over,” we
both said, assuming that even if we survived the night we'd have no equipment to finish
the trip.
We kept moving and praying, heading to the sound of the surf. We crawled down to the
water's edge, slid in like turtles and let the current drag us out. For the next two hours we
drifted, swam and crawled through the surf. Even though it was black, we were far from
invisible because phosphorus trailed from our shoulders. We were exhausted but had to
keep going.
We told our version of the story. We knew we had to be very diplomatic and didn't want to
raise tempers or show anger, but we didn't want to become victims either. Still, we were
in a Third World country, an Indian town, in the middle of nowhere, and these people
could do anything to us they wanted. Garcia said he was the chief of the Miskitos,
possessing a treaty signed by the British in 1915 giving him control over all Miskito
Indians and their lands, and his law states any vessel must get clearance from him. We
hadn't done that. We showed him our letter from the British consulate and once he saw
the stamp, the same seal as on his precious treaty, he listened to us.
Luckily, Garcia's Miskitos felt they had more allegiance to England than to the rest of
Nicaragua. After our lengthy explanation of our journey, the chief declared everything a
misunderstanding. They took us to our canoe, and what a feeling of relief we felt when
we saw it and all our equipment. We did an inventory, discovering some items missing,
but most was intact though a little waterlogged. Our wallets were returned with nothing
missing. Garcia insisted we stay and recuperate at his house. We saw little choice as the
condition of our hands meant we couldn't paddle for days. Once there, we stuffed
ourselves with turtle, rice, bread and Kool-aid. Then the chief insisted we had to pay for
gasoline, flashlight batteries, and other expenses his militia had incurred, about $30 in all.
We joked that maybe we could pay for the bullets they shot at us as well.
Our situation was so ironic it was laughable. We were staying in the house of the man
who had given orders to shoot us. They fed us, gave us a roof to sleep under, and had
even become our friends. After a few days, we continued on down the coast, deciding
this canoeing was not worth our lives. Why were we doing this? We wanted to meet
people, to have an adventure, not to dodge bullets and be robbed and hassled. “Let's just
think about this,” we thought, so we discussed measures to insure we wouldn't have a
repeat. Colombia would be one of them.
We decided to avoid the dreaded Guajira Peninsula. We could portage across the
peninsula, eliminating 210 miles of paddling through smugglers, thieves and murderers.
But the portage meant pulling a 500-pound canoe across 75 miles of desert. We had a
boat trailer modified so we could pull it, then hired an armed guard to escort us across
the desert. The four-day trek eliminated two weeks of paddling, but it turned out to be the
portage from hell.
We never sweated so much in our lives. We stopped for water every 15 minutes and
couldn't walk a full kilometer without a break. Neil was dizzy, headachy and at times
could hardly breathe, rapidly approaching heat exhaustion. Our armed guide was of little
help. His mileage calculations were always wrong, he never knew where the rest stops
were, and he didn't even have sense enough to wear a hat in the godforsaken heat.
At the end of the first day, after twelve hours of walking, we camped next to a family's
house. They invited us in for dinner but Neil was so exhausted he was cramped up,
shaking and couldn't even eat. Chris watched a Colombian football match on TV. We
crossed the peninsula successfully, then continued along the coast until the end of
December when we paddled into the Caribbean so we could spend Christmas in
Trinidad.
As 1996 began we entered the Orinoco River, ecstatic to be out of the surf even though
we knew we had 1,000 miles of upriver paddling ahead of us. For 16 months we'd
worried about surf and weather. No more. We saw our first toninos on the Orinoco, ugly
pink things that look like Elephant Man dolphins. We didn't look much better. We both
had multi-colored umbrellas up for shade, Cat Stevens, Phil Collins, Hootie and the
Blowfish, Van Morrison or Bob Marley blasting from the canoe. Our river coffee had
become T-shirt coffee, because regular filters were too slow. T-shirt coffee is an acquired
taste, a little salty and sweaty. When we passed people they would laugh and laugh. We
were a sight.
The river bank became a 10-foot vertical wall of green with a canopy of trees and long
vines reaching into the water. The sky was abundant with squawking macaws. This was
an area untouched by gringos. We were in paradise—if it hadn't been for the biting
blackflies, mosquitoes, fire ants and killer bees.
But we hadn't seen it all. In June, on the Amazon, the radio batteries were dead,
disappointing Chris who wanted to listen to an English football game that afternoon. We
saw a couple small huts, mostly just three-sided, built up from the river bank on stilts, and
stopped for water. Our first surprise was that the small community was Japanese. What
they were doing in the middle of the Amazon jungle we never did learn, but despite living
in primitive conditions, they had a power generator. And a satellite TV dish. And they
were big football fans, watching the England vs. Spain match Chris so wanted to hear.
On Aug. 1, 1996 we arrived in Belem, Brazil. We made it on our own, against the odds,
and there was no doubting our joy—but it seemed strange. Canoeing had been our
lifestyle for three years and now we didn't have to think about paddling the next day.
When we began in Medicine Hat, if we had known everything that we know now, if we
had known we would become the British Canoe Expedition, that we would have all these
information sheets printed up in Spanish, that we would be written up in dozens of
magazines and newspapers in several countries, if we had known we would be filling
several dairies, if we had known we'd set a new world's record, we would have laughed.
We might have never done it. We certainly would have had a completely different
outlook. We're glad we didn't know. If we had, we would have been under more pressure.
We would have had to be more serious; and we wouldn't have experienced half the
things we did. And we wouldn't have gotten into the Guinness Book of World Records.
Hotline Blurbs
A planned Triple Crown in the Southeast turned into a Triple Frown for event organizers
when April's low water forced two of three events to be canceled. Nevertheless,
organizers turned competitors' expressions right-side up by holding a modified Edge of
the World Triple Crown on the Nolichucky River April 10-11. "We planned to create a
Triple Crown, but we could only hold one event because of the drought," says event
co-organizer Spencer Cooke. "But we still had a pretty good event." The low flow
dilemma wasn't new. The rain-dependent streams of North Carolina and Tennessee have
long given organizers conniptions when trying to schedule events. To combat Mother
Nature's monkey wrench, Cooke and co-organizer Clem Newbold shifted the Watauga
event to Big Rocks hole on the lower Nolichucky, where even though flows were low,
competitors' spirits were high. Keeping them that way was a cash purse for the winners.
After the Men's finals, West Virginia's B.J. Johnson took home a first-place prize of $280,
with the remaining pro finalists splitting $2,000. "I think we started a good thing this year
by paying everybody," says Cooke. "Everyone who competed said they would return next
year."
—Daniel DeLaVergne
Those wishing to glimpse Bill Mason's treasured red, 16-foot Chestnut Prospector canoe
can now do so by visiting the Canadian Canoe Museum in Peterborough, Ontario. "The
museum had been asking about it for some time, and all of a sudden we decided it was a
good idea," says Mason's daughter, Becky. "I think dad would be very pleased." The
museum, which opened in 1997 and now has nearly 600 canoes on display, is also
happy with the new display piece. "We're incredibly excited about it," says the museum's
marketing coordinator Brittany Cadence, adding that it should help the museum see more
than 25,000 visitors in 1999. "We anticipate it will be much like a shrine."
The canoe's unveiling took place June 17, with several special events occurring in
conjunction with the ceremonies. Also new to the museum are several of Bill Mason's
paddling artifacts, including a beat-up lifejacket, canoe paddle, cookstove and what
Becky calls a "smelly old tent." "It's hard to believe they're calling everything artifacts,"
she says. "But the canoe is—he wrote a lot about it. He loved all canoes, but he
especially loved this one because it was so versatile...it could go in whitewater and also
tour in flatwater." Father Bill apparently wasn’t the only one attached to the 16-foot
Prospector. The family put one stipulation on the donation: "Becky will be able to use it at
any time at her request," says Cadence.
—For more information, contact the Canadian Canoe Museum at (705) 748-9153.
—edb
Long the home of sailboats, houseboats and powerboats, Canada's oldest National Park
east of the Rocky Mountains is now rolling out the red carpet for kayakers. St. Lawrence
Islands National Park management has discovered sea kayaking and already has
produced a brochure introducing prime areas for touring and camping. They are also
developing a comprehensive "Kayak Guide to the 1000 Islands."
From Cedar Island at the eastern end of Lake Ontario, St. Lawrence Islands National
Park extends 45 miles down the St. Lawrence River to Stovin Island near Brockville,
Ontario. Twelve of the 21 National Park islands have campsites ($10/site/night for two
tents and six campers). Best of all, the islands see only light use outside the peak
summer season of July and August. More than 150 islands are scattered throughout the
park between Gananoque and the bridge crossing into Canada from the U.S. Among
them, open bays, freshwater marshes, cliffs, and narrow channels with strong currents
are all close at hand for paddlers. Prevailing southwest winds often generate aggressive
surfing waves in the open water sections of the park. If you don't care for such sport,
there are endless day trips available under the lee of the overlapping islands. Complete
information about the park is available at www.parkscanada.pch.gc.ca, or call (613)
923-5261.
—Charles Sutherland
September
Permagrin's 3rd Annual Kayak Fiesta & River Cleanup, Lower Salt River,
11
AZ (602) 755-1924
17-19 West Coast Sea Kayak Symposium, Port Townsend, WA (414) 242-5228
October
18th Annual Sea Trek Kayak Regatta & Paddle-a-thon, Sausalito, CA (415)
2
474-7662
4th Annual Portland Bridges Marathon (Canoe & Kayak Race), Portland,
16-17
OR (503) 681-9023
Some video games have players blast asteroids. Now there's one where players can
blast waves—and surf and cartwheel and run slalom gates—all from the simulated seat
of a whitewater kayak. "We're creating a kayaking computer/video game that will have a
three-dimensional environment," says Mitch Norton of Minneapolis, Minn.'s Head Games
(a division of Activision), which plans to release its Extreme Whitewater video game in
July. "It should be pretty fun and realistic."
Already the creators of similar games for mountain biking, snowboarding, snowmobiling
and waterskiing, Head Games saw it as a natural progression to create something similar
for whitewater. To keep it realistic, the company went to the experts at Harriman, Tenn.'s
Dagger for advice. The result is a game where players drive to a dealership and choose
one of a number of Dagger kayaks—including such modern models as the Vengeance
and Medieval—and then click what event they want to participate in, whitewater slalom or
rodeo. Users can also select between practice and competition modes, and select venue
sites. Moves and strokes are controlled with the keyboard, mouse, joystick and/or
game-controller. "They gave us six different boat models to have users choose from,"
says Norton. "And it'll have multiple river venues for users to test their skills, with points
awarded for different moves. It will also have a section awarding points for technical
routes."
Although it has yet to see the final version, Dagger is as excited as a kid in a video
arcade about the venture. "It's a unique marketing gimmick," says Dagger's Tom
Windham, adding that Dagger sent the company J-Pegs and CAD drawings of its boats
to use in the game. "Being boaters, you want it to be as realistic as possible, so it was
nice that we could help contribute to it." Windham adds that Dagger had been
approached before by companies trying to create similar games, but that earlier efforts
fizzled out like a blown-up asteroid. "These guys were real aggressive and have a proven
track record," he says. "It wasn't too hard to get excited about it."
Everything about a Colorado River trip in Grand Canyon National Park is as grand as the
canyon. Especially for the folks who want to explore the park on their own, without the
services of a river concessionaire. Logistics for doing so range from packing food for up
to 23 days to transporting equipment and people across the country—not to mention the
daily effort of navigating the 277 river miles coursing through 1.2 million acres of
proposed wilderness. But what's the biggest obstacle of running the Grand? Getting a
permit in the first place.
Grand Canyon National Park established the current waiting list system and
commercial/private allocation ratio in the late 1970s. The concept was simple, like waiting
in line at the supermarket: first come, first serve—with private trip leaders lining up for
250 launches a year. Unlike the super market analogy, however, there is only one
checkout person in the Grand system; by the early 1980s, the noncommercial "wait" was
already five years long. It was obvious supply needed to stay close to demand for the
system to work. Unfortunately, supply was derailed with the rewriting of the Colorado
River Management Plan in 1981. Due to that Grand Canyon-sized snafu, folks who 10
years ago thought it would be nice to get on the waiting list (joining 3,000 others on the
list) are finally putting-in in 1999 and 2000. Behind them is a line of more than 6,000
future trip leaders. Anybody who gets on the list today better have their date planners
sorted out for the year 2020, because once the park awards you a launch, you'd better be
ready to go.
Applicants in the early '80s paid no fees to join the list. In 1989, the cost to join increased
to $25, and currently stands at $100. New applications must be postmarked between
Feb. 1 and Feb. 28. Then, every year between Dec. 15 and Jan. 31, those on the list
need to let the Park know they want to stay on the list by sending a registered
return-receipt letter. Nothing like getting a letter from the Park eight years into your wait
saying you have been dropped because you failed to send in your continuing interest
form. If this happens, it's back to the end of the line. To make matters worse, in 1997 and
'98, the Park charged folks $25 a year to stay on the list. More than 1,000 people
dropped off before the park, under considerable pressure from boating clubs, dropped
the fee. As future trip leaders wait, they are allowed to run the river on someone else's
private permit. Run it again, however, and they too are off the list.
But you know of people who run the river every year? Not anymore. People used to call
in for cancellations, which the Park allowed. Anyone who knew about the system could
get on the waiting list and then hit the phone, day after day, until they scored a
cancellation. This activity ended this spring as permit managers overbooked the launch
schedule for 1999 and 2000 to serve those who have been waiting the longest. This has
resulted in no cancellations being added to the phone-in system.
It's been 10 long years, and those who have waited are finally getting a chance at launch
dates. But wait! Just because you've waited all those years doesn't mean you'll get the
date you wanted. Every year, the next 300 trip leaders are told to choose 15 launch
dates. Those at the front of the list usually get the date they want. Those in the middle get
a close date. Those at the end better be flexible. Anyone who strikes out on all 15 dates
is deferred to the following year, essentially being assured a spot near the front of the
line. Imagine being awarded your fifteenth choice. If you can't launch on that day, you will
be forced to cancel your trip. Once you're assigned a launch date, you must pay $100 per
person 90 days in advance of your launch. Finally, the home stretch is near. Now it's time
to do the food pack, dust off the boats, hope a new job/kid/house/significant other is
ready to let you go or go with you, and you're finally on your way!
If you'd like to join the rest of us and wait, new additions to the waiting list are accepted,
with a $100 check, between Feb. 1 and Feb. 28. Write to Grand Canyon National Park
River Permits Office, P.O. Box 129, Grand Canyon, AZ 86023, or visit the park's home
page at www.thecanyon.com.
—Tom Martin
—Tom Martin is president of the Grand Canyon Private Boaters Association,
www.gcpba.org, and is currently # 6025 on the waiting list.
Walker started his students on the electric car project five years ago in his Applied
Technology class. As a part-time, recreational kayaker, the idea to turn a kayak into a car
came naturally, but his wasn't the only electric kayak entered in the event. "It was a
coincidence that there were two kayak cars entered," he says. Walker's Lite-Wave
electric kayak car was built from a donated Old Town fiberglass kayak. The other kayak
car, built by Charlie Holthausen and his kids Matthew and Laura, was made from a Wave
Sport Kinetic. He called his car Kinetic Energy. "The aerodynamics of kayaks are
phenomenal," says Holthausen. "If it can slip through the water smoothly, it can slip
through the air smoothly."
Constructing an electric car out of a kayak, of course, isn't easy. For the Sunblast event,
cars had to meet Formula Electrolite electric road-racer specifications, carry a designated
amount of weight and batteries, and many cost up to $2,000 each to build. The cars were
judged not for finishing position, but for how far they traveled in one hour. How did the
kayak cars fare against the more conventional car bodies? The Lite Wave crashed and
burned and is currently under reconstruction at the Middle School; and the Kinetic Energy
threw a chain halfway through the race.
—ahb
While the horse-racing world was abuzz this spring with its Triple Crown, last fall a group
of kayakers created a similar stir by completing a Triple Crown of whitewater. In a trip
sponsored by Men's Journal, the team—including Gerry Moffatt, Charlie Munsey, Wink
Jones and Reggie Crist—completed self-contained descents of Alaska and Northwest
Canada's Susitna, Alsek and Stikine rivers in a single month-long push. "Very few people
do any one of these," says Idaho's Rob Lesser, who joined the expedition for the Stikine.
"All of them are in very remote locations with very challenging whitewater. Each one by
itself is a major accomplishment...they are all of a similar nature and are all pretty testy."
The team's first run was Alaska's Devil's Canyon of the Susitna, dubbed the "Everest of
Whitewater" by one Alaskan guidebook. The Triple Crown team flew in and filmed a
descent of the canyon in just over two days. First run by Walt Blackadar in 1971,
Turnback Canyon of the Alsek came next, with the team spending several days paddling
to the canyon's brink before running the big-water, Class V gorge the final day. Next the
group headed for the climax: the 60-mile Grand Canyon of the Stikine in northern British
Columbia. "The Stikine is considered the pinnacle of big water rivers," says long-time
expedition paddler Doug Ammons, who joined the group on the Alsek and Stikine. "Only
10 teams have done descents of it since the first attempt in 1981, and seven of those 10
teams were represented by people on this trip. It was the most experienced team you
could have put together." Indeed, with Lesser and Ammons aboard, the team
encompassed the entire history of the run, with four generations of expedition kayakers
(Lesser, Ammons, Moffatt, Munsey, Jones and Crist). Like Secretariat in horse-racing's
Triple Crown, Lesser was the first kayaker to paddle all three rivers, with successful
descents of Devil's Canyon in 1977, Turnback in 1980 and the Stikine in 1985.
As well as packing experience, the expedition also packed technology, carrying digital
video cameras into each canyon. Footage will be used to create two films: one on the
Triple Crown; and a shorter one for network television on the Stikine. "We want to tell the
story of these rivers because they sum up much of the history of expedition kayaking,"
says team member Gerry Moffatt of Scotland. "We also want to make the rivers the stars
of the show, and tell the story of the pioneers who went before us. We had a great team,
we got great footage, now it's up to us to tell the story."
—edb
Becoming Deano
By David Regela
Everybody, it seems, wants to be like Mike. Michael Jordan, that is. Air Jordan. His
Airness? Everybody wants to be like Mike except me. I want to be like Deano.
I'm a realist—I don't have the preternatural leaping ability, the golden fall-away jump shot,
or that inimitable tongue thing. I am a boatman, however, and a pretty good one. I'm not
Deano, though. At least not yet.
Dean, Deano, is a consummate pro river guide who works mostly in Idaho. He
moonlighted a few years ago during the early Arizona boating season with Pablo and I
and a couple of other local guides. Nothing, absolutely nothing, shakes this guy. He's
calmer than a Buddhist monk. He'll screw up a difficult, technical run—and laugh. Snow,
sleet, frost on the proverbial pumpkin—he's laughing. Mountain lions in camp or
scorpions in his shoes. Hangover from hell. A flipped boat or two, some broken
equipment, no shuttle. Pissy clients. None of it makes any difference to Deano. He has
himself a real good time. He's my hero.
Perhaps I'm a tad too intense, but I hate surprises—in camp or on the river. I'm forever in
search of that perfect trip. Henry Hudson and the ghostly crew of the Half Moon may
have sailed off the edge of the known world, but I bet they had a sense of humor. The
mutiny on the Bounty was a small disagreement, hardly worth mentioning. The Titanic? A
glorified booze cruise that ran out of everything but ice. And Ahab and the boys were
simply out for a bit of sportfishing. How's that for a quick attitude adjustment?
So I get invited to do a Grand Canyon trip, providing raft support for a clutch of Austin,
Texas, kayakers. Cool. It's my chance to disappear. I can feel myself relaxing already.
Becoming Deano. Here I come. This is going to be easy. We have a cartoon character
crew: an honest-to-god, larger-than-life Texas Ranger; a stockbroker; the General; a big
blocky guy wearing a hat that says SWAT; a social worker; an old hippie named Thelma;
and Danny-boy, who says rather cryptically that he's "in the movie business." One of our
female kayakers has the style and attitude of a little Xena, The Warrior Princess. The
three lissome ladies who will be riding as raft passengers introduce themselves as the
"Tube Tarts." You getting the picture? Oh yeah—one of the other support rafts has a
beach umbrella hooked to a converted bug sprayer that is filled with river water and
connected to A/C tubing, to provide a constant, cooling mist.
I'm rowing great—a bit of bravado, a touch of finesse. I'm feeling so good I even
considered taking a bite of the sacred Datura plant that bloomed all around my bedroll
last night, but decided not to. Instead, I watched the meteor shower until two ringtails
staged a furry Armageddon right next to my pillow, with the victor winning the exclusive
right to pillage our kitchen. I am at peace. I've got the Deano business down pat. Heck,
yesterday Pablo insisted we move our assembled camp 50 yards down the beach. Didn't
bother me at all.
Each day is filled with laughter and the positive ions generated by moving water. Lunches
are spent cloistered in the ample shade provided by the cowboy hat of our personal
Texas Ranger. We are becoming a tribe. A family. The storm is a seminal event. A few
drops at Havasu Creek. Then chaos. The smell of ozone. An aerial artillery bombardment
that eclipses the siege at Stalingrad. Waterfalls, hundreds, plummeting from both rims. It
was frightening, humbling, exhilarating, like having a living window on the creation of the
world, featuring more abject power than the human mind can comprehend.
Maybe I short-circuited. One minute I was rowing grimly through the suffocating deluge,
then suddenly I began to howl. A feral bellow, equal parts joy and reverence and pure
electricity. My intrepid companions hesitated only briefly. We became a chorus. A mad,
berserk symphony of tiny voices unleashed in celebration; an acknowledgment of
something much more than the feeble course of human events. Liquid Epiphany. Deano
would have been proud.
In light of the roll I was on, my faux pas at Vulcan's Anvil didn't seem important. I fully
intended to venerate tradition and leave a coin, an offering in a niche of the volcanic,
mid-river pillar. Another boat got in the way. I blithely blew it off. We scouted Lava Falls
from the left bank. The ominous trench-hole at the top was deeper than the mercy of
God. It was a real nasty level. So, naturally, the last thing I said in the eddy above the
drop was something brash about "running closer to the trench than any living man would
dare." Sure. Good plan. Suffice it to say I got a teeny bit right. Just a few feet, but more
than enough. I had time for a very short speech. One word, actually. I carefully chose a
word that Deano would never utter, and despite my blasphemy, I had a Vision.
It has been scientifically established that the simultaneous injection of ice water into
every bodily orifice will produce vivid hallucinations. I beheld the beautific countenance of
Saint Deano on a white and chocolate background. Then I got hammered. Tore my
lifevest somehow. Got pummeled, got motivated, and arm-vaulted on top of the
overturned boat at my earliest convenience. Then I floated, sublimely blissed, comforted
by my vision, around the next bend in the river, with Xena and the SWAT guy in hot
pursuit.
These days I guess you could say I'm reformed. I understand now that different strokes
really do work for different folks. The experiment in becoming Deano was a dismal farce.
Zen is not my deal, apparently, and I've joined an obscure boaters group that's much like
Alcoholics Anonymous—take it one day at a time. If I can get through this article without
flipping, I'll have 37 dry days. Tomorrow will be 38. I've also learned to laugh at myself.
Ha, Ha. There. Now get off my back. And if they ever find Deano's battered, strangled
corpse, crudely covered in poison oak leaves—it wasn't me, honest. Deano is still my
hero.
Paddle Tales
Microscopic Canoeing
After five days paddling a 200-lb., 20-foot dugout canoe with our guide, Ernesto, out of a
base camp on Ecuador's Rio Napo, we decided to give it a try on the last day by
ourselves. My wife, Jean, was convinced we could get along fine without a guide, and
before we knew it we found ourselves winding through a narrow slough worming its way
into the thick jungle. Our destination for the day was a place called the Tower, a rough
spiral stairway built around a 150-foot-high Kapok tree. After arriving, we climbed up the
stairway's 13 stories and were rewarded with a unique perspective of Amazon tree-top
life: different plants, animals and even climates. Below us was a jaw-dropping view of the
jungle spread out in all directions. We also saw an eagle eating a monkey and a sloth
sitting in a Zen-like trance. Mesmerized, we stayed to see the birds roost for sunset and
then hurried down to find the canoe before the trail back to the waterway was cloaked by
the rapidly falling equatorial night. We just made it.
"You're gonna be mad at me," I said, fumbling around in my bag. "I forgot the backup
flashlight."
"That's okay," my wife replied. "I have mine right here...uh...you sure you don't have
yours?"
We would have to paddle back to camp without our headlamps. At first, it didn't seem too
big of a deal...we had been in dark places before, even in jungles. But between the black
water and the enveloping dark green foliage, we quickly passed any point in the "dark"
scale we had previously experienced. After paddling about a mile, Jean's white shirt was
not even remotely visible at the other end of the canoe. The test of the hand in front of
your face—nothing. The good news was that the watery burrow through the undergrowth
was narrow enough so we couldn't mistakenly turn around and go back the way we had
come. The bad news was that it was too winding to follow in the dark. The thump of vines
would be followed by "STOP..YUCK...BACKUP!" as the bow person, with visions of
snakes and spiders, was thrust into a bush. Without light, going on was impossible.
"Do think you could walk or wade and feel our way?" asked Jean.
"No way!" I replied, remembering the piranha we fished for earlier and the gators we saw
the night before. "I think we'll just have to lay down in the bottom of the canoe and feed
the bugs until morning. There's nothing else we can do."
As Jean reluctantly bailed out the canoe for our bed and fluffed her daypack to use as a
make-shift pillow, a hand connected a lump in the pack to the brain... "THE SCOPE!" A
pull at the zipper brought forth salvation—a small field microscope used to make army
ants into Godzillas through a 30 power lens with its very own ...LIGHT! When the tiny little
bulb flickered on, the absolute blackness was nicked with 2 volts of light. But it was
enough to paddle out into the lake and back to the lights of camp.
"You did that paddle in the dark?" asked Mike when we finally returned.
"Exactly how far do we have to actually paddle?" Anita asked skeptically. Anita was a
talented playboater, not particularly fond of flat water. "Only eight miles," I explained,
recounting scenes of bighorn sheep, hot springs and even a sauna cave at our
destination. What I didn't tell her was that we were going to paddle the eight miles
upstream. But the thought of soaking with her in an isolated hotspring was enough for me
to embellish a bit.
Finally, after a good bit of coaxing, Anita agreed to do a flatwater paddle through the
Black Canyon, a scenic stretch on the Colorado River just below Lake Mead. True, most
folks did Black Canyon the easy way, by floating a couple of miles downstream from the
base of Hoover Dam. But paddling the run upstream in sea kayaks afforded a much
better chance of seeing sheep, or at least catching some solitude in the stark desert
canyon. The trick was, you had to get an early start because the power authority usually
cranked up the flow by early afternoon. And more water meant stronger current, which
meant the paddle from hell if you happened to be paddling the wrong direction.
For starters, Anita's flight into Las Vegas was late. Then we missed each other in the
airport. Then we got lost on the way to the put-in. Finally, we rolled into camp at about 3
a.m. Luckily, we were up and on the water by the crack of noon. Unfortunately, several
dozen jet skiers and powerboaters immediately dashed any hopes of desert solitude. No
bighorns within 10 miles of the river that day. To top things off, the power authority turned
up the flow when we were only halfway up the canyon. The only way to make it upstream
was to desperately eddy-hop back and forth across the quarter-mile wide channel. With
all our meandering, eight miles became about 14. After what seemed like an endless
struggle against a formidable current, we made it to camp about dusk, exhausted and
glad to be off the water.
Anita was mostly her old self again after a couple days of hotsprings, day hikes and
cheap wine. I kept reminding her that the paddle downstream would be a leisurely float
(never mind that last-minute weather report). Unfortunately, an early winter storm blew in
on the way back, forcing us to paddle against a stiff headwind. If we stopped paddling
even for a second, we were blown back upstream. Choppy water, wind and cold weather
made the trip back miserable. Anita muttered something about feeling trapped inside an
M.C. Escher drawing where every direction was upstream. She was gracious, though,
despite our weekend of flat-water hell. She also got even: three weeks later we did what
Anita described as an "easy little creek run" in Northern California. A scenic run, I'll give
her that, although for me it proved to be more of a swim fest than a paddling trip. Truth
may indeed be stranger than fiction; it's definitely better paddling policy.
—Don Barrie, San Diego, California
An Unchivalrous Shuttle
After a group river trip some mysterious force arranged for the shuttle drivers to be
comprised of all of the "gentlemen" in the group, with the wives, girlfriends and children
all left waiting at the take-out.
The "gentlemen" had driven a hundred yards or so when one of our number declared that
he needed to use a restroom. "Oh, look, there's a tavern!" A warm, cozy tavern ("Let's
just stay for a beer and warm up"). With cheap pitchers ("Well, maybe one more"). And
free shuffleboard ("I'll play the winner"). Great juke box ("We can't leave yet, I've still got
three songs left"). When we finally departed we were shocked to discover that it had
gotten quite dark (we have since calculated that this is to be expected when you go into a
bar at dusk and come out two hours later). We might have gotten away with this if we had
coordinated our stories. Unfortunately, when we finally arrived back at the take-out (to a
very cold reception, not meaning the weather) we all blurted out a differing variety of
excuses ("We had a flat"; "We had to wait for a really looong train to pass"; "We were
abducted by aliens"; "It wasn't my fault, they made me do it").
Since that episode there is an unwritten understanding that the "gentlemen" are not
permitted to run shuttle without a lady present. And the "gentlemen" get somewhat
anxious when the ladies occasionally declare: "Oh, we'll run the shuttle...you boys just
wait right here".
—Mike McCrea, Freeland, Maryland
Anyone who spends much time in neoprene knows the all-star rivers of Idaho's
panhandle. Crack open a volume on wild rivers and there's sure to be a chapter on the
Middle Fork of the Salmon River, immortalized by Marilyn Monroe in 1957's River of No
Return. Look at a whitewater fanatic's wish list, and it will surely include the long
wilderness stretch of the Selway, where the one-party-a-day permits are tougher to get
than those for the Grand Canyon. Can't get a permit? Then head for the Moyie or the
Lochsa (a Nez Perce word meaning "Rough Water") rivers, or try one of the many steep
creeks that pour from the Selkirk Mountains.
With so much fabulous froth, it may surprise outsiders to learn there also are prime calm
water trips in the panhandle. Many of the same streams famous for their whitewater also
offer long stretches where the rapids don't intimidate and the scenery is spectacular.
There are quiet lakes set among public forests that have few rivals in size or beauty in
the Lower 48. A moose, black bear or pair of wood ducks might be around the next bend.
Or it could be a cedar-shaded campsite and an opportunity to cast flies to native trout.
Either way, visitors will begin to wonder why whitewater gets all the attention. Here are
four great trips that provide an introduction to the region:
The Native Americans who named the Lochsa as a warning gave its sister a name that
welcomes. Selway means "Good Canoeing" to the Nez Perce, but the name only fits for
the final miles below Selway Falls. Above the falls, the river flows through the largest
roadless area in the continental U.S. That wilderness river is bejeweled with Class IV
rapids run by relatively few lucky people each year, due to the restrictive permit system.
But no permits are needed below the falls, where the Selway is studded with Class II-III
waves. The biggest rapids are in the 11 miles between Selway Falls and Falls Creek, a
stretch that should only be attempted by experienced paddlers with proper whitewater
equipment. Below Falls Creek are 14 miles of river suitable for intermediate paddlers.
Forest Service Road 223 follows the river upstream from the town of Lowell to Selway
Falls, with numerous small campgrounds en route. Yet the river retains its remote feel as
it flows through a narrow canyon heavily wooded with Western red cedars, Douglas fir
and spruce. The southern shoreline is mostly undeveloped, and there is not a house or
cottage anywhere. In 1968, the Selway became one of the first eight rivers in the nation
protected under the Wild and Scenic Rivers Act. And this makes it prime for fishing as
well as floating. Thanks to the wilderness nature of its upper reaches, the Selway boasts
a healthy population of West Slope cutthroat trout, a once-ubiquitous and easy-to-fool
species that may be added to the Endangered Species List this year. Conscientious
fishermen use barbless hooks and gently release their catch. The typical season on the
Selway ends in mid-July.
If everyone could conjure up an image of the Moyie River, psychologists would go out of
business. The pools are deep and green, the riffles playful, and the surrounding forests
shady. Visitors might share the water with otters or wood ducks. Can't you just feel your
troubles float away?
That portrait is bound to surprise many Idahoans, who see the river only from U.S.
Highway 2 near Bonners Ferry. Far beneath the highway bridge, Moyie Falls sends the
river on a final, frantic run to the Kootenai River. Portions of the Moyie just above the falls
are favorite runs for local adrenaline junkies. The biggest of the rapids would turn a
Chestnut inside-out. But that still leaves 19 miles of the river in Idaho for the rest of us
(not to mention the 58 miles—including long, slough-like stretches—in British Columbia).
This trip covers 12 miles, starting at Copper Creek Campground, a mile south of the
Canadian border. The trip ends at Twin Bridges, a well-known landmark along Forest
Service Road 221. The water is interspersed with rapids that can reach Class II during
high water. At low water, expect to scrape rocks. Below Twin Bridges, the river steepens,
becoming progressively more technical. It boasts nearly continuous Class II+ water in the
seven miles between the bridges and Meadow Creek Campground. It is below Meadow
Creek that whitewater aficionados take over. The Moyie is best run in early summer.
In a region blessed with royal beauty, Priest Lake is undoubtedly the queen. Craggy
peaks reflected on placid water dotted with forested islands—it's a scene fit for the
calendars office supply stores hand out for free. Unfortunately, the queen is being
smothered with affection. Cabins and year-round homes nearly ring the lake, which
buzzes with powerboats in summer. The water remains pure, but only because there is
so much of it.
The river that drains the lake offers a respite from the chaos. Most of the land on the west
bank of the Priest River is managed by the U.S. Forest Service. To the east is a state
forest. Development—mostly in the form of modest cabins—is limited to a few pockets of
private land along this 28-mile stretch. Chipmunk Rapids is the only whitewater of note,
and it requires little maneuvering.
Although paddlers can find good boating on the Priest during late spring and early
summer, most wait until mid-October when the local power company begins the annual
draw-down of Priest Lake. The spilled water puts the river in prime shape just as Western
larch turn amber. Sometimes there's a backdrop of early snow. Visitors are apt to see
wood ducks and beavers, but nary a mosquito.
The trip starts about three miles south of Priest Lake, at Dickensheet Campground. It
ends at the Peninsula Road bridge. Between the two is just one other access, a wide
spot in Forest Service Road 334, where a trail leads about 100 feet to the river. Big Hole,
as this alternate access is known, is 18 miles downstream from the put-in and difficult to
spot from either the road or the river. Overnight visitors must pay close attention to
topographical maps to assure that they're pitching tents on public, rather than private,
lands. Priest River is named for early French missionaries. Native Americans called the
priests "Kaniksu," an Indian word for black robes. Most of the land in extreme northern
Idaho is managed under the Kaniksu National Forest.
Tourists swarm the north end of Lake Coeur d'Alene like mosquitoes to a nudist camp.
On summer days, they paraglide, rent jet skis or whack Titlists toward the world's only
floating golf green. On the rare rainy day, they browse shops that sell T-shirts, graphite fly
rods and titanium putters.
For those who prefer recreation with less commotion, the atmosphere 26 miles south is
altogether different. Here, pine-covered hills tumbling into the water are remarkably free
of development. There are fewer boats and more wildlife. Autumn is the best bet for
solitude and scenery—and usually offers the year's most pleasant weather.
Until 1906, the area was home to three small lakes: Round, Benewah and Chatcolet. The
St. Joe River threaded between them before spilling into Lake Coeur d'Alene. A dam at
Coeur d'Alene's outlet caused the lakes to merge, leaving 10 miles of St. Joe's banks
rising above the water. Cottonwoods still grow thick on the river banks, attracting the
Northwest's largest concentration of osprey. Waterfowl flock to the surrounding lakes,
where duck hunters planted wild rice three decades ago.
Canoeists have many options within 7,800-acre Heyburn State Park. A five-mile sampler
starts where state Highway 5 skirts Benewah Lake. Paddlers follow a serpentine channel
through the rice for a mile before ducking under a railroad trestle and heading for the line
of trees that mark the river. Occasional breaks in the trees allow canoeists to slip into the
St. Joe, where the current is felt only during spring runoff.
Depending on their pleasure, paddlers can stick to the river for a mile or two, then exit
through any break in the west bank and paddle across Chatcolet Lake. The goal is
beyond the marina and cabins at Rocky Point, where a rice bed marks the mouth of
Plummer Creek. There's a rough take-out at the bridge about a half-mile up the creek.
Depending on water flow, it's possible to explore about another half-mile upstream from
the bridge, which marks the transition from marsh to upland forest.
Coeur d'Alene (pronounced CORE-da-lane) is the name French trappers gave to the
region's Native Americans, whom they considered shrewd traders. Roughly translated it
means awl- or needle-hearted. In 1998, the Coeur d' Alene tribe won back control of the
southern third of the lake, which is inside their reservation boundaries. Although they
have made few management changes so far, the tribe may place speed restrictions on
boats using the river, a step that citizens' groups have long recommended, boaters have
fought and politicians have been afraid to implement. Powerboats that now use the river
unfettered create wakes that are eroding the fragile banks and causing cottonwoods to
topple.
A Recap on Rigging
Rigging a raft for a multi-day river trip is an art every bit as much as rowing and river
running. Unfortunately, many guide wannabes are inept at the skill, producing behemoths
of tangled ropes and straps that come undone as soon as the first wave crosses the bow.
And when that same boat flips in Lava's ledge hole, the result is a junkyard of debris that
settles to the bottom of Lake Mead.
One key, maintains Mike Bader, a long-time river guide and manager of Wheat Ridge,
Colo.'s Downriver Equipment Co., is to take your time in the rigging process. This will
ensure a package fit for rowing, while giving you the upper hand in the rigging game.
"Whether you're at the put-in or breaking camp, load your boat as slowly as you can," he
says. "That way your buddies will end up taking more stuff." Although it is a time-honored
tradition to try and pawn gear off on other boats, eventually you'll be faced with a pile of
gear that needs rigging. The jumbled pile of rope scenario can be avoided by following a
few simple guidelines.
Proper D-ring placement is integral to solid rigging. If your raft doesn't come equipped
with enough of them, add more. Although it can be expensive to retrofit a raft with D-rings
($15 a pop plus glue and time), they open the doors to more rigging options. "You can
never have too many D-rings," says Bader. "And add some low on the inside so you don't
have to tie your gear to floor lacing." If you do add D-rings, make sure to do so correctly.
D-rings are the weakest points in any rigging system, says Bader, recounting horror
stories of flipped rafts whose rigging pulled out at D-rings. "Water doesn't pull on the
straps carrying the load, it pulls on the anchors, or D-rings," he says. "They'll come off
before the straps break." To add them to your inflatable, he advises cleaning the material
thoroughly and using a two-part glue for greater bonding strength.
Rigging to D-rings
When securing the frame, use a minimum of six anchor points and camstraps (more for
catarafts) that are the proper length for the task. Don't use a 12-foot strap when a
three-footer will do the job. Make sure the strap is long enough, however, for an extra
wrap around the frame to provide slippage. Bader advises using 1.5-inch camstraps
instead of one-inchers for securing the frame. "They give you that much more extra
strength," he says. When rigging gear, try not to loop straps through D-rings already
securing the frame. "As well as making it difficult to slide a strap under, the frame is
already applying torque to the D-ring," says Bader. "Why add more?"
Hail to Hoopie
Even if you're a cam junkie, take a netbag full of rope, or hoopie, along for tying in odds
and ends. Rope is less expensive (a full range of cams can easily top $300) and more
versatile. It also causes less remorse when you lose a tie-down to someone else's strap
supply at the end of the trip. If you're a camaholic, protect your arsenal by color-coding
the buckles beforehand. When rigging, half-hitch the end of each strap in case of buckle
failure.
Whether you use rope or camstraps, always rig your equipment to minimize entrapment
potential, and daisy chain excess line with half hitches. "I prefer camstraps for rigging and
I loop each strap around the frame to minimize the risk of it falling into the river during
loading," says Peter Tassoni, a nine-year guide on western rivers. Tassoni adds that
sediment-laden rivers and dusty roads of the West can contaminate the spring
mechanism within the cam buckle. He advises to clean each spring thoroughly and
lubricate with a Teflon spray.
Bader prefers the hoopie approach. "I'm a big fan of rope because you can tie it off
anywhere," he says. "Cams are a little more restricting. It's also nice for last-minute
tie-downs." Although typical hoopie bags have ropes of varying materials, diameters,
colors and strength, make sure everything you use is in good shape and able to
withstand the force of a flip. If you do use rope, make sure to tie proper quick-release
knots. Many a guide has slapped hand to forehead at the end of the day trying to untie a
three-inch-diameter knot carefully crafted by an anonymous helper during the rigging
process. Perhaps the best knot for rigging is the trucker's hitch, a simple overhand knot
with a loop that, when threaded with a loose end, allows a mechanical advantage in the
tightening process. Above all, avoid square knots and grannies. For both rope and
camstraps, always have a lighter and knife along to combat frays.
Remove the raft's thwarts to create frame drops where you can suspend dryboxes and
coolers for added load capacity for multi-day trips. Make sure the box or cooler fits snugly
across the width of the thwart area to ensure lateral rigidity, but not so snug as to be
abrasive. Unless the box or cooler has specifically designed handles or ridges to rest on
the frame, dangle two loops of webbing or a specially made drop bag (sizes XS-XL) in
the thwart area to cradle the box. For longer trips, pull out both thwarts and suspend two
dry boxes while hanging a cooler behind the front box. The oarsperson can then sit on
the rear dry box with water jugs or rocket boxes amidships.
For rigging gear, use a suspended cargo platform and netting system to keep drybags,
toilets, firepans, lawn chairs, water jugs, tables and other gear off the floor in the bow and
stern. Hang the floors or nets off D-rings and the frame so gear is suspended three to
four inches off the floor (never put gear directly on the floor, even with self-bailers, unless
it is very soft and light). When rigging, make sure to lash each layer of gear
separately—with either camstraps or rope—and tie in each piece of gear individually,
even if the load is to be topped with a cargo net. Keep the load as low as possible,
rigging heavier items on the bottom and topping the mound with lighter gear. Pad sharp
objects (firepan corners, etc.) as best as possible. If possible, cover the entire gear
compartment with netting for added security. When rigging water jugs, rocket boxes and
other gear on platforms or in the middle compartment, make sure the rigging pull is
directed downwards to hold the gear in place. A good technique for ammo cans and
rocket boxes is to line them up side by side and use one strap per side passing through
each handle and back to the frame. This provides a snug fit while allowing the tops to be
opened in transit.
Keep your load suspended and centered. "This allows the inflatable to spin quicker
because of less draft," says Tassoni. "Too much weight in the back or the front exposes
the bottom to hydraulics and winds that may stall or upend the craft." Tassoni adds that
an asymmetrical load will create a momentum differential, with the heavy end trying to
constantly pass the lighter end. "I like my boats to have a 5-10 percent asymmetrical
load," he says. "I want the heavier load in back if I'm boating defensively, using ferry pulls
and crashing through eddy fences backwards. I put the weight in front for increased
downriver tracking and punching power into hydraulics when using push strokes for
acceleration." Bader prefers to keep his bow and stern loads more equal. "Sometimes
you're pushing, sometimes you're pulling," he says. "Because of that, I like to keep the
loads even." When rowing into stiff headwinds, the two veterans offer the following:
Tassoni often rigs gear directly on the floor for lower drag ("although you risk puncturing
your floor if you hit a submerged rock"); Bader opts for simply throwing a couple of drag
bags full of libations over the side to act as a sort of sea anchor.
With the absence of floors, catarafts require extra rigging precaution. Smaller catarafts
typically have frames that hold one mid-sized cooler; several rocket boxes or a small
drybox; a rowing seat; and a platform for drybags between tubes. Hanging a mesh or
wood floor below the frame will help minimize splash and can catch accidentally dropped
items. Larger catarafts can hold a second box, with most equipment lashed directly to the
frame or D-rings. Whether you're rigging a cataraft or standard inflatable, keep your
spare oars accessible. Don't bury them with gear and use quick-release knots or buckles
to grab them in a pinch.
—edb
• "PADDLE! PADDLE! PADDLE!" is frequently heard along the river, as beginners are
encouraged down their first rapids. This advice occasionally improves a beginner's odds
of making it through a drop successfully. However, the tip also encourages the bad habit
of flailing, and taking too many strokes. Neophytes are left unaware of proper stroke
timing and placement. A better approach is a systematic explanation of the places where
speed is useful, like for punching a hole or punching into an eddy once the boat is on the
right approach. In either case, three strokes of acceleration are all that is necessary.
Speed doesn't help much in waves; in fact, rushing to fit in extra strokes often throws a
paddler off balance. The next time you cheer a friend bouncing through a rapid, try
making noise. Pound on your boat. You are more likely to be heard, and less likely to
start bad habits.
• "Lean Downstream!" is another overused tip, offered to keep beginners from getting
flipped as they peel out of an eddy. It is good advice, if explained thoroughly. First, the
paddler has to understand the different types of leans. There is the beginner's instinctive
lean, which leaves the boat flat, while the paddler leans his body forward and a over the
water. For most whitewater moves you actually want a boat tilt, accomplished by curling
the body and head over the boat, and jutting out the ribcage. Understanding and
practicing this balance, without a paddle as a crutch, is the first step to stability.
• Next is the issue of how long to keep the boat tilted when entering current from an eddy.
I have diagnosed an amazing number of self-taught paddlers who have the disability of
trying to lean downstream all the time while on the river. Not only is this wrong, but it's
also hard to do. The proper boat tilt downstream advice only applies to a few moments in
the transition from eddy to current, and in a few miscellaneous instances, like floating into
a hole sideways. Imagine walking in an airport on a moving sidewalk. When you step
from solid ground onto the moving sidewalk you need a few moments of balance until you
adapt to the speed of the sidewalk. You would sure look funny leaning forward the entire
length of the sidewalk. The river is the same, except the look is tippy and awkward, and
not as obvious. Only tilt the boat for a few moments as you make a peel out, gradually
setting your boat flat as you adapt to the speed of the current.
• "Keep the Boat Straight!" is a third oversimplification that beginners often hear, and
follow to their own demise. It is the correct reaction for heading straight into a breaking
ocean wave, but rarely do whitewater paddlers keep the boat straight. A quick glance
around at expert boaters will confirm that floating sideways is a valuable part of paddling.
You can't get into eddies, or even avoid rocks, while keeping the boat pointed straight
downriver. Many of the best instructors teach spinning circles to improve students'
comfort levels. The ultimate comfort comes from developing boat control so it is easy to
be perpendicular for breaking waves or ledges.
The next time you hear one of these bits of paddling "wisdom," keep in mind it may be
well-meaning advice—but oversimplified. Do tilt the boat when making the momentary
transition across different-speed current. Do keep the boat straight for predictability in
curling, breaking waves. And paddle, paddle, paddle—but not in a frenzy.
—Author Kent Ford recently released The Kayaker's Playbook, a manual of stroke drills
designed for recreational paddlers. Find more tips at www.performancevideo.com.
THE EJ SERIES:
Mastering the Draw Stroke
This is the first part of a new Skills series by Olympian and former World
Kayak Rodeo Champion Eric "EJ" Jackson.
Whether you're racing slalom or simply catching an eddy on a local river, there are three
rules that govern how you should turn a kayak. RULE 1: Your head and body should lead
the boat in every turn. RULE 2: Control your turns with strokes on the inside of the turn. If
you want to turn left you should first get the boat spinning left with a sweep. Then
determine the radius of the turn, your forward speed, how much you slide sideways—all
with your left blade. Your right blade is used for forward strokes to help keep boat speed
up. RULE 3: Use a draw stroke to control your turns. It is this final rule we will discuss
here.
There are three elements to a proper draw: proper paddle position and movement; proper
body position and movement; and proper boat position and movement.
First let's learn what your paddle position should accomplish when doing a draw: 1)
Control your turn; 2) Convert your forward momentum from one direction to another; 3)
Harness spin momentum; 4) Harness the river's energy.
A draw is a centerboard for your kayak such as you would see on a sailboat. A sailboat
doesn't work without a centerboard and a kayak doesn't either. The job of a centerboard
is to keep a boat from sliding sideways. A kayak is inefficient in turning because it slides
and loses speed. If you use your paddle as a centerboard the boat will track, or carve, the
turns. Where does a centerboard go on a sailboat? At the center of longitudinal
buoyancy—the middle. Where does a draw stroke go? In the middle.
To learn the proper technique, grab a paddle and sit in a chair. Hold the paddle with your
right hand only, and put it one foot from the side of your pelvis. Hold the paddle there and
make it vertical. Face the paddle shaft (look in the direction of your turn). Rotate your
body to face the paddle and your head. Reach over with your left hand and grab the
shaft. This is a draw. Now look at where your blade is: Ooops! You've moved it forward.
Get it back to your pelvis.
Now, while keeping the blade vertical and one foot from where the side of your boat
would be, move the paddle up to your knees. This is a bow draw. Now move the paddle
back one foot behind your butt and vertical; this is a stern draw. Is your paddle vertical on
the stem draw? It should be.
Next look at blade angle. Remember that you are creating a centerboard with your
paddle. What does a centerboard look like? It is parallel to the boat and vertical. Make
sure your paddle is vertical, at your butt and that the blade is parallel to the boat. Now
you have a centerboard for your kayak. The draw stroke is incredibly versatile and
effective because you can use many different positions and angles to maximize boat
glide and to convert forward momentum from one direction to another.
Let's learn some more terminology: normal-faced, open-faced and closed-faced paddle
blade angles. For a normal-faced blade, put the paddle in at your hip in the draw position,
keeping the blade parallel to the boat so if you were moving forward the blade would be
slicing through the water with no resistance. For an open-faced blade, start in the normal
draw position on the right side of your boat and rotate your shaft clockwise about 30
degrees so the leading edge of the blade is further from the kayak than the trailing edge.
This is an open face. This is also the way most people do their draws, only the blades are
more like 45 degrees. The same goes for the left draw, only rotate it counter-clockwise.
For a closed-faced blade, start in the normal draw position on the right side of the boat
and rotate your shaft counter-clockwise about 30 degrees. This is a closed-faced
position.
There are several critical elements of the draw. The paddle blade must be at or slightly
behind your center of gravity—your butt. Common Mistake: Putting the paddle in at the
knee, or even slightly in front of center of gravity. The paddle must also be vertical.
Common Mistake: Holding the paddle at an angle by keeping the top arm over the boat. If
your paddle is at 45 degrees, 50 percent of your energy is used lifting the boat and 50
percent is used keeping the boat from slipping. The paddle blade must be parallel to the
boat. Common Mistake: Opening the blade angle so the paddle acts as a brake instead
of a centerboard. If you saw a sailboat with a centerboard near the bow, leaning over at a
45-degree angle and rotated out 45 degrees, you would say that centerboard was
non-functional. Would you want a centerboard like that for your kayak?
Forget everything we have discussed so far, grab a friend and try this test. Have your
friend face you and put his paddle on his deck. Now paddle up to his paddle and make a
tight turn around his boat and back to the paddle on the other side. Your goal is to do this
in a minimum number of strokes. Start counting the strokes when you cross the paddle
on one side of the boat and stop counting when you cross the paddle on the other side.
The average number of strokes is between four and five. It is impossible to do it in less
than four without some kind of a draw stroke.
Now do the same test again using proper draw position. Remember that the draw is only
a centerboard to keep your boat from sliding while it turns; it is not a primary turning
stroke. Paddle up to your friend's paddle and make your last stroke before you reach him
a sweep to initiate the turn. Immediately put the draw in the normal position and glide
around the boat's stern. Now slice your paddle forward to the bow and pull yourself
forward. If you do it properly you will be able to make the entire maneuver in one stroke.
You will also have more forward speed after one stroke than you did with five strokes the
old way. Every turn you do without a proper draw forces you to use four to five times the
strokes needed and take more time to do it. This is not only inefficient, but also
dangerous when you need to make a crucial move that includes a turn.
If—after trying the above steps to perfect your draw—you don't notice any major
difference in your paddling, you are probably making one of two mistakes.
1) You are putting the draw in front of your butt. The draw must go in at your butt or
slightly behind; it is easy to put it in too far in front. 2) You are using an open-faced blade,
a braking stroke that kills your momentum. Learn ways to apply the draw stroke to your
everyday paddling, and remember the number one rule for turning a kayak: Always
control the turn with strokes on the inside of the turn. The stroke for controlling these
turns is a draw.
Eco Blurbs
Floaters taking to Utah's Westwater Canyon of the Colorado River no longer need fear
confrontations with a Grand Junction miner. The miner, Ron Pene, relinquished his
claims along the river-left bank below an attraction known as Miner's Cabin as part of a
settlement with the federal government. The Bureau of Land Management, in return,
agreed to pay Pene $16, 850 (the amount Pene paid the BLM for 960 acres in 1986) and
cease legal action.
The settlement is pleasing to outfitters and private boaters as Pene had a camp trailer
visible from the river and used heavy equipment to work what was supposed to be a "pick
and shovel" claim. "We applaud the settlement 100 percent," says Tom Kleinschnitz,
owner of Grand Junction's Adventure Bound, one of several Westwater outfitters. "As
outfitters we're making money on public lands also, but we're using the resource in a
renewable fashion. Pene wasn't playing by the rules and it finally caught up with him."
Late last year, the federal government conducted an economic validity exam and
determined there was not enough ore in Pene's claims to make them viable. In complying
with the settlement, Pene has removed his mining equipment from the site, which the
BLM intends to reclaim this fall.
—edb
Perception Kayaks named long-time river activist Tim Palmer as its 1998 River
Conservationist of the Year. "We are proud to recognize Tim for his lifelong efforts in river
conservation," says Perception President Jim Clark. "This year's field of applicants were
all strong candidates but it was Tim's efforts over the past 30 years that made him shine
above the rest." Palmer's work dates back to a study of Pennsylvania's Pine Creek as
one of the first rivers to be considered under the National Wild and Scenic Rivers
System. He has authored 12 books, including Lifelines: The Case for River Conservation,
which has been used to aid conservation efforts all over the country. Palmer also has
worked on conservation campaigns by writing brochures, press packages, guest
editorials and Congressional testimonies. His conservation work includes efforts on the
Columbia, Snake, Yuba, Stanislaus and Oldman rivers. As part of this award, Palmer will
receive a $1,000 grant to continue the conservation effort of his choice. "Nobody else
comes close to the passion, deep knowledge and superb skills that Tim displays in
depicting our rivers and analyzing what we have done to them," says Kenneth Margolis,
president of Portland, Ore.'s River Network.
—ahb
In March of this year Congress designated 29 miles of the Sudbury, Assabet and
Concord rivers in Massachusetts to the National Wild and Scenic River System. Rich in
scenic, historical and recreational values, the three rivers are among the state's most
popular for recreation. The designation came about thanks to Representative Marty
Meehan (D-MA), who introduced the bill, and the 10 communities along the river who
sought the protection.
In other Wild and Scenic progress, a bill was recently introduced in the U.S. House by
Representative Cass Ballenger (R-NC) to designate North Carolina's Wilson Creek as a
Federal Wild and Scenic river. The designation would include wild, scenic and
recreational segments and has the support of the state's two U.S. Senators. Action is
expected to take place in October. Wilson Creek is a challenging whitewater run and
excellent trout stream that drains 5,964-foot Grandfather Mountain. Designation is being
supported by local residents, the American Canoe Association, the Carolina Canoe Club
and Trout Unlimited.
—dj
Paddlers can celebrate two victories over canoe and kayak registration legislation. In
what might be a first, Arizona paddlers got legislation passed that ended the state's
requirement to register and number canoes, kayaks and rafts. The bill was passed over
the objections of the Arizona Department of Game and Fish. In North Carolina, paddlers
were able to defeat a bill that would have required canoe and kayak owners to register
their boats at a fee of $25 per boat, and to place large hull numbers on them. SB 499 was
introduced at the urging of the North Carolina Wildlife Resources Commission, but was
withdrawn when paddlers—spearheaded by the Carolina Canoe Club, American Canoe
Association and Wilderness Systems—convinced the sponsor that the bill was a bad
idea. Paddlers felt the Commission would ignore the needs of paddlers and direct the
money raised toward the motorboat community.
—dj
Some rivers get their sucking sound from suckholes or whirlpools. On Alaska's Wild &
Scenic Fortymile River, the sucking sound comes from gold miners who are dredging the
river bottom with giant vacuum cleaners. Adding to this destructive form of
mining—allowed on a river segment classified as "wild"—this spring the Bureau of Land
Management proposed long-term camps on federal lands in the "wild" corridor to support
the suction dredge-mining operations.
American Rivers and the American Canoe Association quickly weighed in, objecting with
the threat of legal action. The groups pointed out that the BLM proposal was illegal under
the National Environmental Policy and Wild and Scenic Rivers acts. Even the BLM's
Environmental Assessment of the plan concluded that, "the outstandingly remarkable
values for which the wild designation was made, wildlife, scenic and recreational values
will suffer directly." As a result of the reaction to its proposal, the BLM has scrapped
plans for this summer and is pursuing alternatives. For ACA and American Rivers, the
only acceptable action is for BLM to stop suction dredging in the "wild" section of river
and uphold its responsibilities under the Wild and Scenic Rivers Act.
—dj
For some paddlers, the term "bad buzz" might seem like an oxymoron. For those used to
quiet communes with nature, however, the phrase is cause for complaint.
The complaints, brought to the recent attention of the American Canoe Association (ACA)
and various government officials, center around encounters with 130-horsepower jet skis,
or personal watercraft (PWC), capable of slicing through the water at 80 mph. Paddlers in
Maine, Minnesota and Michigan have complained about jet skiers harassing loons and
destroying nests; in California paddlers have witnessed jet skiers stampeding sea lions;
elsewhere across the country jet skiers have disrupted kayak classes, destroyed wildlife
habitat and engaged in other disruptive and dangerous activities.
The first federal agency to tackle the problem was the National Park Service (NPS). In
September of last year NPS issued a Notice of Proposed Rulemaking that would ban
personal watercraft on most NPS-administered waters unless the activity is specifically
authorized. The rule is expected to be finalized by early summer. Many NPS units
excluded from the national ban have chosen to ban or restrict PWC use. North Carolina's
Cape Hatteras National Seashore and Georgia's Chattahoochee National Recreation
Area are among the most recent to take action.
For the public that visits national parks for their beauty, solitude and wildlife, the NPS
action is welcome relief. The prevailing view seems to be, "finally an agency has provided
the public some refuge from these Hell's Angels on water." The opponents are PWC
users and manufacturers. The National Marine Manufacturers Association (NMMA) and
the Personal Watercraft Industry Association (PWIA) have responded to the NPS action
with a, "if we can't use it nobody can" approach. The two groups have lobbied Congress
to cut off funding to the entire Department of Interior, including the Park Service, Bureau
of Land Management, and the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service.
Battles between jet skiers and other user groups extend far beyond national parks.
Conflicts have erupted everywhere, including wildlife refuges, public lakes, rivers and
coastal areas—practically anywhere there is water. This has prompted state and local
governments to respond by adopting better measures to protect the public and the
environment. During the past year legislation has been introduced in more than 30 states,
from Alaska to Florida, setting restrictions on jet ski use. These lawmakers are
responding to more than just an annoyed public; they are also responding to an alarming
accident rate. According to data collected from state boating agencies, jet skis account
for only 8 percent of registered vehicles on the water, but 40 percent of all "boating"
accidents. In a number of states jet skis account for over 50 percent of accidents,
including Nebraska, where the rate is 85 percent.
Part of the safety problem is inherent in PWC design. Jet skis cannot be steered if the
rider lets off the throttle (like driving a car that only steers with the gas pedal depressed).
Victims of jet ski accidents and their attorneys see this as an inherent design flaw that
could expose the industry to lawsuits.
Paddlers often cite "fear for their life" in characterizing jet ski encounters, reports of which
are appearing increasingly in the media. In recent months Florida newspapers reported
on a Miami woman who was sea kayaking when a jet ski forced her into a sea wall,
capsizing her; and on a Boy Scout troop threatened by jet skiers while canoeing on the
Oklawaha River.
Paddlers are not alone in their dismay. Other recreational water users such as fishermen,
wind surfers, swimmers, divers, sailors, and even motor boaters also are reacting to the
jet ski problem. In New York two jet skiers were arrested for running down swimmers off
Long Island, and in New York and Michigan jet skiers were observed risking injury to
divers by buzzing dive buoys.
While recreational groups, waterfront property owners and environmental groups are all
trying to gain further restrictions, the jet ski industry is waging an increasingly defensive
battle to keep their craft on the water. Key to their strategy is making sure jet skis
continue to be considered "boats" by regulatory agencies, especially the U.S. Coast
Guard. Once agencies start treating them differently it becomes easier to restrict their
use.
According to Buddy Rake of the Association of Trial Lawyers of America, the jet ski
industry lobbied to be classified as boats in order to avoid the jurisdiction of the
Consumer Product Safety Commission (CPSC) which was instrumental in banning
three-wheeled All Terrain Vehicles (ATVs). He claims that their current classification as
boats under Coast Guard jurisdiction is particularly troublesome because "the Coast
Guard had to grant manufacturers 10 exemptions beyond normal vessel specifications
just to meet the definition of a boat."
While the battles over jet skis on the nation's waters is still going at full throttle, there are
increasing signs that their advocates are losing ground. Beyond the recent moves of the
National Park Service and other agencies, sales are declining. According to the NMMA,
in 1995 Americans bought 200,000 jet skis; last year sales slumped to 130,000. That is
still a lot of water bikes to contend with, but paddlers can take heart that the crafts'
annoying buzz may soon be silenced.
—For more information contact the ACA and the Coalition for Responsible Water
Recreation at (703) 451-0141, or visit the ACA website at www.aca-paddler.org.
—David Jenkins
Last summer, Hawaii's Donna "Kahi" Kahakui began a journey that had been attempted
but never completed: she paddled a record 73-miles from Kapalua Bay, Maui, to
Honolulu, Oahu, in a solo outrigger canoe. Setting the under-20-hour record was
secondary: her primary goal was to raise awareness and funds for ocean wildlife through
Hawaii's Kai Makana Foundation, a non-profit conservation group she founded to support
marine wildlife conservation.
Kahakui is far from resting on her record-setting laurels. In May she completed another
record-setting, fund-raising paddle: 131 miles from the tip of the Big Island at Opolu Point
to Waikiki Beach on Oahu. The records, however, are still secondary. "The purpose of
these paddles isn't about me setting new records," says Kahakui. "The primary reason is
to show that everyone has the potential to make a difference."
Kahakui grew up in Oahu and her love for paddling in both team and solo outriggers
began at a young age; she is currently on the Outrigger Canoe Club team and was
named the 1998 Tiffany & Company's Athlete of the Year. She holds several prestigious
women's titles for solo canoeing including O'ahu Champion and Hawaii State Champion.
Through her foundation, Kahakui has raised more than $40,000 for such projects as the
Waikiki Aquarium, The Endangered Hawksbill Sea Turtle Project, The Center for Whale
Studies Research, and The Hawaii Nei Dolphin Protection Project. As a subsidiary of the
Hawaii Wildlife Fund, the foundation's primary focus in 1999 is the Marine Debris Project,
aiming to clean up Hawaii's waters from pollution affecting marine wildlife and coral reefs.
Pollution, agricultural runoff and over-fishing is expected to destroy 25 percent of
Hawaii's coral reefs in the next 10 to 20 years. "Resource over-utilization has become a
significant threat to marine wildlife," Kahakui says, already planning her next
record-setting paddle for conservation. "Marine debris is killing our coral reefs, monk
seals, turtles, dolphins and whales. We need to address this problem before it's too late."
—For more information on Kai Makana call (808) 955-2282 or contact the Hawaii Wildlife
Fund at (808) 667-0437, wild@aloha.net. Donations may be sent to Kai Makana, P.O.
Box 22719, Honolulu, HI 96823-2719.
—ahb
Break out the tubas for the Yuba. In May, a bill to permanently protect 39 miles of
California's Class II-V South Yuba River by adding it to the state's Wild and Scenic Rivers
System was passed by the California State Senate. If the State Assembly also approves
the protection, the South Yuba would be the first addition to state's Wild and Scenic River
System in more than a decade.
The non-profit South Yuba River Citizen's League is leading the push for protecting the
South Yuba between Spaulding Dam and Engelbright Reservoir. The league's Board of
Supervisors in Nevada County, where nearly all the South Yuba is located, recently
proclaimed its support for Wild and Scenic status. Legislative refusal to designate the
South Yuba would leave the river open to further water development projects—an option
the Nevada Irrigation District and Yuba County Water Agency would like.
Several water development projects have been proposed, including a dam and tunnel
that would divert the river into a reservoir on the North Yuba, where the water would be
accessible to the Yuba County Water Agency. Another proposed dam would inundate 10
miles of whitewater between Washington and Edward's Crossing, the most popular run
on the river. Four-dozen historical sites, a state park, and the nation's longest wheelchair
accessible trail are also threatened by new dams.
The South Yuba drains the Sierra Nevadas just north of Lake Tahoe and is unique for its
scenery, recreation, geology, wildlife, flora and historical values. The river canyon is
virtually free of development, with rare pockets of old growth forest still found along
certain sections. Few rivers in the Sierras remain undammed for such a long distance.
A 1996 federal study found the South Yuba suitable for inclusion in the National Wild and
Scenic River System, and the Forest Service recently made a recommendation to add
the South Yuba to the national system. State-protected rivers can be added to the
National Wild and Scenic Rivers System upon the governor's request. Only 2 percent of
the nation's 3.6 million miles of river qualify for inclusion. To learn about how you can
help secure permanent protection for this threatened river, write the South Yuba River
Citizen's League at P.O. Box 841, Nevada City, CA 95959. Call them at (530) 265-5961
or visit www.syrcl.org.
—Scott Harding
Taking advantage of an eddy surge, Mitch was able to sink the putt for par.
● Hotline Blurbs
● Calendar of Events for Jul/Aug
● Long-time River Photographer
Bids Adieu
● Extreme Racing...Euro-Style
Why Wood?
By Chris Kulczycki
Just as they have for thousands of years, boat builders continue to use wood for a variety
of craft, whether the hulls form ships, sea kayaks or canoes. Recently, however, builders
have learned to use wood in new ways, combining it with epoxy, fiberglass and other
modern materials to form it into thin, strong, composite panels, and to build fast and
efficient computer-designed hulls. Wood has become a high-tech material, and one of the
best structural materials for kayaks and canoes.
My 19-foot sea kayak is a good example. It weighs 34 pounds and is faster than most
composite boats I've paddled. This model, in fact, wins many races-unfortunately, not
with me paddling. I built my boat from a kit that cost $619. Had I bought the boat
assembled, I would have spent $2,500. An equivalent Kevlar or graphite boat might have
set me back $3,000. Other companies offer kits that are even less expensive.
Why is wood again becoming the material of choice for some of the world's finest
sailboats, sea kayaks, sprint kayaks, canoes, dories and rowing shells? In short, it's
strong, light, stiff and beautiful. Wooden boats are often lighter than comparable glass or
plastic craft, so they accelerate quicker and are often easier to handle. These lighter
boats are better on shore too as they are easier to portage and lift onto roof racks. Wood
also is up to 10 times stiffer than fiberglass by weight, and nearly six times stiffer than
Kevlar/epoxy composites. Stiffness is important-energy should be expended moving the
boat, not flexing the hull. This miracle material also is resistant to fatigue. Wood retains
its strength despite repeated cycles of tension and compression from being wet and dry
and it doesn't get brittle with age, as fiberglass and plastic can. Wood is also strong;
when combined with an epoxy/glass composite, wood is stronger than fiberglass-only
boats of the same weight.
So why don't we see more wooden boats in paddle shops? The reasons are related to
time and labor. A mahogany plywood kayak requires 40 to 80 hours to build; and a
strip-built kayak or canoe can consume 150 to 300 building hours-not attractive numbers
to manufacturers accustomed to popping a plastic boat out of the mold every hour. But
there are plenty of professional boat builders who will gladly build you a wooden canoe or
kayak. For the most part they are artisans in small shops who would rather create a few
beautiful boats than trailer-loads of ordinary boats. Their output is low and their prices are
understandably high, but no higher than you would pay for a hand-laid Kevlar or graphite
boat.
A few decades back many thought wooden boats were in danger of disappearing. I like to
imagine that wood's revival is due to its aesthetics and our growing appreciation of it, but
the real reason probably has more to do with plastics and the development of epoxy.
Epoxy is a clear, two-part liquid plastic that's both a glue and a waterproof coating. It not
only revolutionized wooden boat building, it simplified it, spawning the second-growth
wooden boat industry in existence today. Epoxy allows wood to compete with fiberglass,
Kevlar and even graphite as a high-tech building material. Builders now saturate wood
with a tough plastic resin, sealing it to prevent decay and increase strength. An
occasional fresh coat of varnish is the only routine maintenance most wood/epoxy boats
require. Epoxy's amazing strength and gap-filling properties allow wood parts to be
simply glued together, replacing complex joinery. Fiberglass and other exotic fibers can
be laminated to wood to combine the best structural properties of both materials.
Another reason for the popularity of wooden craft is you can build a boat yourself.
Several companies manufacture pre-cut wooden kayak and canoe kits that require little
more than assembly and only basic woodworking skills. Wood construction is ideal for
home builders; the material is readily available, relatively inexpensive, and can be worked
with a minimum of tools and skills. It's satisfying to work with wood as its texture,
appearance and even smell is pleasant. A few hours of cutting, sanding, planing and
varnishing is a great way to spend a weekend. Whether you are planning to buy, build or
simply admire wooden boats, you should understand how they are built.
Stitch-and-Glue Building
The stitch-and-glue technique is one of the new building methods made possible with
epoxy, and it's the most popular home-building method. Stitch-and-glue kayaks and
canoes are built from a high-grade marine plywood of okoume, a type of African
mahogany. The builder, or kit manufacturer, first cuts the plywood sheets to precisely
shaped panels that will form the hull. Designers develop the panels' shapes using special
naval-architecture computer design programs to ensure the panels will bend exactly to
the intended shape when joined along their edges. Often the panels are cut on
computer-controlled cutting tables with accuracy to a thousandth of an inch.
The panels are joined along their edges with twists of thin copper wire-this is the stitching
part. A short piece of wire is inserted through small holes drilled every few inches along
the edges of adjoining panels and secured with a twist. As the panels are wired together
the boat assumes its shape. After checking a few measurements to ensure everything is
correct, seams are glued with epoxy, then covered with fiberglass and more epoxy. When
the epoxy cures, the wires are snipped off and an additional fiberglass and epoxy layer is
applied inside and outside the hull.
In kayaks, bulkheads and sometimes beams are installed to support the deck. The deck
can then be tacked to an inwale glued inside the hull. The deck may be made of several
flat panels or from a single panel bent over the bulkheads or deck beams. Once the deck
is in place, a coaming is glued on (on a canoe, the gunwales, inwales, thwarts and seats
are glued or screwed into place). Finally, the boat is sanded, painted or varnished and
the fittings, such as deck rigging, rudder and grab loops are installed.
Stitch-and-glue boats are the simplest type of boat to build and they are very popular with
amateur builders. There are limitations, however, to hull shapes that can be built from flat
sheets of plywood. Angles, or chines, form where the panels join. Many stitch-and-glue
boats have a V-bottom and a single chine, as in a Greenland-style kayak. This is a good
hull shape for sea kayaks, but is not as efficient for wider recreational kayaks and
canoes. Others designs overcome this limitation by using more panels to form a
multi-chine shape that approximates a round-bottom hull. Plywood panels may also be
bent to produce round-bottom or compounded plywood hulls, but these can be more
difficult to build. If you desire a true round-bottom hull, strip-planking is the logical building
method.
Strip Planking
The mold consists of a strongback and a series of plywood forms, or station molds, that
define the boat's cross section. The station molds are attached to the strongback at
intervals of a foot or two to create a form over which the boat is built. Wood strips are
stapled to the molds and glued to each other. Each strip has a hollow groove, or cove,
along one edge that mates with the rounded edge, or bead, on the adjoining strip, so no
gaps are visible. The builder might alternate light and dark strips and change the
alignment of the strips to produce patterns. With all the strips in place, the thousand or so
staples holding the strips to the mold are removed and the hull is planed, sanded and
covered with fiberglass cloth soaked in epoxy. Next the hull is removed from the mold
and sanded and glassed on the inside. In the case of a decked canoe or kayak, the deck
is built in the same manner and glued to the hull. Finally, the gunwales, inwales, keel,
thwarts and seats are installed and the boat is ready for varnishing.
A strip-built boat is strong and light-though not as light as a plywood boat. It is also
strikingly beautiful. Obviously, strip planking is far more labor and skill intensive than
stitch-and-glue construction.
Other Building Methods
Lapstrake (overlapping plank) construction is one of the oldest wooden boat building
methods, and one of the most beautiful. Many of the famous Peterborough canoes were
built using this method, as were Viking long ships hundreds of years earlier. A lapstrake
hull is built of overlapping planks, or strakes. The laps, particularly by the shadows they
cast, accentuate the lines of the hull. Lapstrake boats are built over molds like those used
to build strip boats. Each plank involves a great deal of joinery, shaping and beveling, but
since there are relatively few planks it is a fast way for an experienced woodworker to
build a canoe. With advances in computer cutting there are now lapstrake canoe kits that
have precut planks and the builder need only assemble them.
Wood and canvas canoes are favored by traditionalists, although they are not quite as
traditional as lapstrake. Wood and canvas canoes also are built over a mold and frames,
but the wood need not be watertight. Canvas is stretched over the hull and filled with
white lead, paint, or some other waterproofing. These are more difficult craft to build than
plywood or strip canoes, but they are more romantic. Paddling a wood and canvas canoe
lets you smell the great north woods - even if you're in Florida.
Buying a Wooden Boat
Buying a wooden kayak or canoe is more complicated than walking into a store and
picking the right model and color. Many of the best builders build to order, not for
inventory, and they are often booked months or years in advance. A few companies do
build for inventory, but most sell direct; the profit margins are usually too small to allow a
cut for the retail store. So how do you find a boat?
The best way to buy a wooden boat is to shop and compare by researching companies'
offerings through websites, brochures and showroom floors. If you can, try to take a
potential candidate for a test paddle before you buy. Another option to see what's
available is to attend a wooden boat show. Kayak and canoe symposia also attract
wooden boat builders. Oftentimes builders will bring a few boats to a show to sell; yet, if
you order a boat from the same builder you might wait months to get it. Many boat
builders cannot afford to advertise in larger magazines, so look for ads in such
publications as WoodenBoat, WaveLength and Sea Kayaker magazines. Other places to
find advertisements for wooden boats are Paddler and Canoe and Kayak magazines.
These publications also list boat shows, building classes and classified ads for used
boats. Consider the type of boat you want when looking for a builder. Some builders work
only with their own individual designs and building methods, some specialize in boats by
one or two well-known designers or in certain traditional types, and others will build any
design you want.
Building Your Own Boat
Wooden canoes and kayaks are built by many first-time wood workers. Pre-cut kits
contain all the parts, glue and hardware needed, along with plans, instructions and
technical help. You simply assemble the parts. If you need more help, search out classes
in canoe and kayak building. If woodworking is already your hobby, you can also build
from plans. Dozens of boat designers offer all types of canoe and kayak plans, from
world-class racing boats to children's models.
Most amateur woodworkers already own all the tools needed to build a boat. A drill is
usually the only power tool required; hand tools needed include a block plane, hammer,
small hand saw and clamps. A good place to work is sometimes the biggest challenge. A
garage, large shed or barn is ideal, but many boats are built in spare bedrooms with tarps
on the floor, and a few builders work outdoors and carry their craft indoors for the night.
Kits and Plans
Boat kits introduce thousands to boat building every year; with pre-cut parts and good
technical support, you're all but assured of completing a usable boat. Two main options
exist: hard chine stitch-and-glue kits and multi-chine stitch-and-glue kits. Both are well
within the capability of novice builders. The more experienced woodworker might try a
strip-built or lapstrake kit. If you're considering building a strip boat, particularly from a kit,
remember that it is fundamentally different than building a stitch-and-glue kit. Though the
kit contains precut mold pieces, strips and other parts, there is a great deal of cutting,
planing and shaping required. You are building a boat, not simply assembling one.
Talk to the manufacturer about what's included in a kit. Stitch-and-glue kits should
contain marine-grade mahogany plywood, not fir plywood. Joints are either pre-cut scarf
joints or butt joints. Strip kits will typically contain cedar strips, but other strips such as
Honduran mahogany may be added for accent. Ask for a sample piece of strip. When
looking at sea kayak kits ask about items such as hatches, bulkheads, seats and deck
rigging; are they standard or optional? With canoes ask about cane seats, bow strips and
wood for trim. Be sure that marine epoxy is included in the kit-it can be difficult to find and
expensive-and make sure to get a calibrated pump to dispense it at the required ratio.
Also make sure the required fiberglass and stainless steel or bronze hardware is
included. A stitch-and-glue kayak kit usually costs between $500 and $800. A strip canoe
or kayak kit can cost from $1,000 to $1,400.
If you're an experienced woodworker, you may want to build from a plan-set rather than a
kit, but if your only reason for building from plans is to save money, you may be
disappointed. Unless you skimp on the quality of materials you'll probably save less than
20 percent of the price of a pre-cut kit while doubling your building time. If you are
building from plans it should be because you enjoy woodworking and want the
experience of making your boat from scratch, not to save money. Plans should consist of
at least four or five large-scale sheets, typically 24 by 36 inches, and a step-by-step
building manual with photos and/or illustrations. Although they can be convenient for the
builder, full-size patterns are more expensive to produce and therefore cost more. Making
measurements from well drawn plans can be just as accurate as tracing eight-foot long
sheets of paper. You will want full-size patterns, however, in the case of station molds for
strip-built boats.
So there you have it: the high-tech boat-building material of the past has again risen to
the top. And whether you paddle a touring kayak or canoe, you owe it to yourself to at
least test paddle a wooden boat. Isn't progress wonderful?
- Chris Kulczycki is a wooden boat designer and founder of Chesapeake Light Craft, a kayak kit manufacturer in
Annapolis, Md. He frequently lectures and teaches courses in wooden boat build
In Your Dreams
Paddling Itineraries That Will Make You Drool
Patting yourself on the back for paddling every weekend last summer? Pat all you
want&_that's still peanuts compared to the 1998 itineraries of the following not-so-rich
and not-so-famous paddlers.
Eric "EJ" Jackson
Age: 35
Hometown: Glen Echo, Maryland-and wherever his RV is parked.
Days paddled: 340; with more than 100 two-session days.
Days home: I live in an RV at put-ins and take-outs.
Number of countries visited: 5
Number of rivers paddled: 46
Frequent flyer miles earned: I never remember to log them.
Most unique shuttle vehicle used: Riding a horse bareback for the Peralta section of
Costa Rica's Reventazon. The ultimate, though, is having my house (RV) at the put-in
and then waiting for me at the take-out.
Worst spanking traveling: In January with my new RV driving Hwy. 131 from the Wave
Sport factory in Oak Creek, Colo., to Interstate 70. A storm rolled in; it was dark, with zero
visibility and a cliff on my side of the road. We were stuck on a hill covered with black ice
and two cars and a truck slid into us. Suffice it to say it took us eight hours to travel the
90 miles to I-70.
Worst spanking paddling: Getting stuffed under a log on Jones Creek. My gut was on
the log, water was on my back, my stern was touching the bottom and my head was
under water. I pulled up on the log, which freed my stern, and I finally slid under and
hand-rolled up. Less than an hour later I got stuffed under a rock. Three pins in my life,
two in one hour.
Favorite destination in 1998: New Zealand
Next on hit list: Around the world in five months in 1999.
1998 Itinerary: There were only 25 days Eric "EJ" Jackson didn't cram himself into a
kayak-be it a slalom boat, creekboat or playboat-in 1998. And most of those were spent
behind the wheel of a 1997 Coachman Mirada RV getting somewhere where he could.
Marking one of the most unique paddling itineraries in history, EJ sold his Washington,
D.C., kayak school and sedentary possessions last year to pile his family-including wife,
daughter and son-into a 31-foot-long RV to tour the country to kayak. With a double bed
in back and beds in front for his children, the shuttle rig took his family across the country
and back again several times. In all, he racked up 55,000 miles and two fender-benders
in 15 months, all while home-schooling his kids on the road. "It worked out great," he
says. "They got an education and I got to paddle."
Work-wise, EJ used the time to visit with reps, teach clinics and meet with sponsors. His
main reason for turning road warrior, however, was to compete in rodeo and slalom
events and log as much time on the water as humanly possible. At one time he was
followed by a reporter from the LA Times doing an article about life on the road. "It was a
playboater's dream," says Jackson. "I got to paddle all over the country with a bunch of
great boaters and return every night to my house." EJ took advantage of his
home-on-wheels by paddling 340 days, or 93 percent of the year. And when he wasn't
pounding out miles on the pavement in search of paddling, he took to the air, squeezing
in international trips to Spain, England, Costa Rica and New Zealand.
John Hart
Age: 29
Hometown: Ventura, California
Days paddled: 200
Days home: 62
Number of countries visited: 4
Number of rivers paddled: 100
Frequent flyer miles earned: 29,000
Most unique shuttle vehicle used: Skateboard
Worst spanking traveling: The third day into a month-long, self-support sea kayaking
trip in the Bahamas I decided to get industrious and do some laundry. Afterwards, I
draped the wet clothes inside-out on one of the few bushes on our island base camp. I
later discovered the name of the bushes to be "poison wood" (a close cousin to poison
ivy). Two days later, my body turned into a red-swollen-oozing-itchy-irritated rash. The
only option was to ride it out; 20 days later it was gone.
Worst spanking paddling: During Gauley Fest I paddled ahead of two people
videotaping from a Shredder. I thought I'd catch the Room of Doom eddy, peel out and
amaze the crowd with stunts along Pillow Rock, but I got stuffed into the "closet." My
paddle got caught in the sieve and I flipped a couple of times, barely rolling up. People on
the rock lowered paddles for me to hold onto, but finally I was able to retrieve my paddle
and push my way onto the pillow. But I flipped again, rolled, got hit by a raft, flipped,
rolled, got flipped by VW rock, and rolled again just in time to get hit by a kayak. I flipped,
rolled again and slinked off to the nearest eddy. That night everyone, including myself,
either grimaced or laughed when footage of my display came up on the screen.
Favorite destination in 1998: Clark Fork of the Yellowstone, Wyoming.
Next on hit list: Devil's Post Pile, San Joaquin River, California.
1998 Itinerary: John Hart is the kind of guy Michelin or Goodyear would like to sponsor.
Instead of a tire company paying his way, however, it's Patagonia, which lists him on the
company docket as a traveling rep. The position takes him all over the country, and
paddling is just part of the job.
After paddling the El Nino winter runs of California and paddling more than 25 rivers in
Chile and Argentina to "proof a new guidebook," he returned to the U.S. in April to begin
a seven-month, 41-state, 30,000-mile road trip to rodeos and river festivals across the
country. He began out West, hitting events on the Kern, Merced, Bob's Hole and Canyon
Creek before touring Idaho, Wyoming and Colorado. From there he repeated the circle,
heading back to Montana, Idaho and Wyoming. His only three-day period away from
water came in August at the Outdoor Retailer tradeshow in Salt Lake City. "After a couple
days there, I couldn't wait to get back on the water," he says.
After a stop at the Gore Canyon race in Colorado and a run down the Black Canyon of
the Gunnison, he headed east to the Wausau, Wis., rodeo before turning north for
Ontario's Ottawa Rodeo. In September he crossed back into the U.S. for a boating tour of
Maine-including a stop at a tidal rapid at Sheepscott-before touring Maryland and West
Virginia. From there it was off for a little surf at the Outer Banks Surf Contest in Naggs
Head, N.C., and Gauley Fest before competing in Alabama's Coosa and Tennessee's
Ocoee rodeos. Next, it was back to New York and back south again to the Nantahala
Outdoor Center for its Guest Appreciation Festival. "That marked the end of my tour," he
says. "But then I drove back to Ventura and immediately flew to Japan for a squirt event
at a surf break." What did he do when all was said and done? Hart promptly returned to
Ventura in November and bought a surfboard.
Dan Gavere
Age: 29
Hometown: Salt Lake City, Utah
Days paddled: 200+
Days home: Not enough
Number of countries visited: 5
Number of rivers paddled: over 100
Frequent flyer miles earned: 15,000
Most unique shuttle vehicle used: In-line skates
Worst spanking traveling: When Chris Emerick, Ed Lucero and I got stranded on
Colorado's Schofield Pass because the ignition coil on my RV died. It was about as far
away from a service station or auto parts store as you could get. Five hours later we got
her fixed and were on the road again.
Worst spanking paddling: I got caught in a hole on the Hospital Rock section of the
Kawhea River that I thought I wouldn't get out of. To make things worse I was in a
Stubby. Chris Emerick and Jimmy Blakeney had already walked the rapid and as I looked
up at them they just screamed for me to hang on. After a couple of loops and power flips I
managed to claw my way out.
Favorite destination in 1998: Rio Gol Gol, Chile.
Next on hit list: A river near you.
1998 Itinerary: Like many with unfathomable paddling itineraries, Salt Lake City's Dan
Gavere began his 1998 season with a month-long trip to Chile, paddling 20 of 30 days.
Upon returning to the U.S. it was road trip time. He fired up his age-old RV, grabbed
some friends and headed to California for the Santa Cruz Surf Kayak Festival (which he
affectionately calls the Santa Cruz "Heckle" fest). Afterwards, he parked his RV and flew
west to Hawaii for two weeks of paddling, filming and surfing with partner Chris Emerick.
Back in California, fate kept him out of his boat for 10 days when he injured his ribs on
the Merced. He wasn't down for long, though, and he soon headed north for the Oregon
Cup and countless runs and rodeos in the Northwest. His RV took him through British
Columbia, Idaho, Montana, Wyoming and Colorado before appeasing sponsors with a
cameo appearance at the Outdoor Retailer tradeshow in his hometown of Salt Lake.
From there he abandoned the RV and flew to Wisconsin for the Wausau rodeo, hitched a
ride to Ontario for the Ottawa rodeo, then hooked up with some more paddlers who drove
him to West Virginia for Gauley season. After Alabama's Coosa and Tennessee's Ocoee
rodeos, he drove back to Salt Lake-tallying more than 100 different rivers and 200 days
paddling for the year.
Jamie Simon
Age: 28
Hometown: Englewood, Colorado
Days paddled: 275
Number of countries visited: 2
Number of rivers paddled: 60
Frequent flyer miles earned: I don't keep track, usually I drive.
Number of days home: About 30; although I am "at home" whenever I'm with my dog,
Jack.
Most unique shuttle vehicle used: Helicopter
Worst spanking traveling: When I crashed our RV in New Zealand.
Worst spanking paddling: Gore Canyon at 10,000 cfs between Gore rapid and Pyrite.
Favorite destination in 1998: South Island, New Zealand
Next on hit list: Nepal and lots of time in California.
1998 Itinerary: Jamie Simon isn't your normal elementary school substitute teacher-and
one look at her paddling resume shows why.
Her 1998 itinerary began with paddling the El Ni-o-swollen rivers of California before
heading north to British Columbia's Skookumchuck and other rivers of the Northwest.
Even a bad twist of fate couldn't keep her from racking up paddling days. "My truck was
stolen in Portland, but we still surfed at Bob's because they didn't steal our paddling
gear," she says.
Simon settled down-if you can all it that-in February and March by pursuing her substitute
teaching duties in Colorado, but when the rodeo season started in April, she was quickly
lured back to California. She stayed there until June before working her way north again
to Oregon and eventually back to Colorado. Then it was on to festivals in New York,
Washington, D.C., Ontario, Connecticut and Massachusetts, before repeating the same
multi-state circuit. After a two-month stint in the Southeast, she returned to California in
November before heading to New Zealand for two months of competing, filming and what
she calls, "having just too much fun." Final tally? Sixty rivers and 275 days paddling.
Clay Wright
Age: 32
Hometown: Rock Island, Tennessee
Days paddled: 200 + (I didn't record park n' play or Ocoee-type runs)
Days home: 50
Number of countries visited: 5
Number of rivers paddled: 75
Frequent flyer miles earned: Don't keep track.
Most unique shuttle vehicle used: Josh Lowry's ambulance in Chile. It looks like a
4WD Hearse, drives like the dead. The cow skull as a hood ornament seemed
appropriate.
Worst spanking traveling: I arrived at the gate in Atlanta two hours early and got in line
three times, but it was always another flight leaving from the same gate. Suddenly I'd
missed the flight, but got transferred to another airline and was assured I could meet the
connection to Chile. I got to the gate just as they were closing the ropes. Chest heaving
and covered in sweat, I was told I had to go back to get the ticket stamped. The desk was
28 gates away and when I arrived it was closed. I spent 24 hours in the Miami airport
before getting my apology. Then I lost my return ticket clearing customs in Santiago.
Runner up: the 14 flat tires while traveling there.
Worst spanking paddling: Lost my boat in a sieve on California's San Joaquin River.
Almost lost more. See Driftwood's Thirst video.
Favorite destination in 1998: Chile: The weather and rivers of California without the
strip malls.
Next on hit list: Not telling. Too good to share...yet.
1998 Itinerary: Clay Wright's year didn't start off looking like a contender for a top
paddling itinerary. In January, after dislocating (and relocating) his shoulder on
Alabama's Johnie's Creek, he then trashed his back on Real Mann's Creek in West
Virginia, forcing him to rethink travel plans to Chile. After several massages, numerous
narcotics, and a doctor visit with X-rays, he canceled his ticket. "But then I tried a
chiropractor and ordered a new ticket the next day," he says. That attitude set the stage
for a whirlwind year. "Ninety-eight was a great paddling year for me," he says. "While I
only took a couple of big trips, I racked in a lot of 'new' runs. There are no real borders
anymore-just time, plane fare and customs checks between us all. Thanks, everyone, for
all the floor space and showers."
After a raging month in Chile, he returned in March for rain-fed runs back East before
hitting the rodeo and Class V scene in California and the Northwest. In June, his crew of
Pyranha paddlers piled into a company RV and headed to Colorado before venturing
back to California for numerous first descents and high-water hair. Fall brought him east
again for the Gauley Festival before a rodeo clinic had him heading for Japan. From there
it was back east again before heading to England for an actual five-day indoor workweek
helping design Pyranha's new Zone series. He arrived back in the U.S. just in time for the
last weekend of running the Tallulah Gorge. In all, he managed 75 different runs-
including 49 personal first descents; four first descents; and 14 new waterfalls over 20
feet high. So how did Wright end the year? Just as you might expect...drying out with a
Christmas in Cozumel, Mexico.
Corran Addison
Age: 30
Hometown: Montreal, Quebec
Days paddled: 200+
Days home: 100
Number of countries visited: 4
Number of rivers paddled: 48
Frequent flyer miles earned: No idea. I fly around the world on average four times a
year.
Most unique shuttle vehicle used: Rollerblades, donkeys and a dog sled.
Worst spanking traveling: Got eaten alive by ticks and fleas in a backpackers' hostel in
New Zealand at the Rodeo PreWorlds. I was itching and scratching for weeks.
Worst spanking paddling: Thunderball hole on the Lachines (45 seconds of high-speed
cartwheels in a 007): the hole is as big as a two-story bus with 500,000 cfs going through
it. Runner up: Mavericks in California-got busted up good in the surf.
Favorite destination in 1998: France
Next on hit list: Japan again
1998 Itinerary: Although boat designer Corran Addison is busy running his Riot Kayaks
company in Montreal, that hasn't stopped him from racking up countless travel miles in
search of places to test his wares. "I did waaaay too much traveling last year," he says.
"This year I'm staying home as much as possible because I miss my girlfriend and my
bed."
Addison began his 1998 season with a quick jaunt to Japan, doing some ocean surfing
and attending various tradeshows and kayak clinics. February found him on the rivers of
the Northwest before March brought him back to Montreal. He wasted no time, however,
before heading west again in April. Destination: California-for rodeos, extreme paddling
and clinics. "It was super high water," he says. "The locals called us idiots." In May it was
back to the Northwest, followed by a road trip through Montana and Colorado for more
rodeos and river running. "I spent a lot of time during those months working on the Glide,"
he says, attempting to justify his travel time.
He returned to Montreal in July to paddle the Lachines, refining the Glide design and
working on big-water playing techniques. After a showing at the Outdoor Retailer
tradeshow in August he was off to France for, "the best rodeo ever-the Rabioux. It
featured nocturnal finals, a loud PA system, hot French chicks, disco, and big screen TVs
showing the finals live." In September he returned to Montreal to train for the Rodeo
PreWorld Championships, taking a break only in November when he swapped his kayaks
for Riot-made snowboards. December saw him in New Zealand taking third at the Rodeo
Pre Worlds, taping a new instructional video and rolling the occasional shuttle vehicle.
Then it was right back to Montreal to prepare for another paddling trip to Japan and a
three-week kayak tour of Greece. Not bad for a guy with a full-time job.
Arnd ScHaeftlein
Age: 33
Hometown: Mittelstetten, Bavaria
Days paddled: 300
Days home: 30
Number of countries visited: 18
Number of rivers paddled: lost count
Frequent flyer miles earned: Enough for free round-the-world ticket.
Most unique shuttle vehicle used: Joshua's ambulance in Chile.
Worst spanking traveling: Usually I only get spanked on the river. I always have a plan
B.
Worst spanking paddling: Can't remember-there are too many.
Favorite destination in 1998: Tough one...Alps, Norway, New Zealand, California
Next on hit list: Chile, Nepal, Africa and more in Europe
1998 Itinerary: Bavaria's Arnd Schaeftlein doesn't bother subscribing to his home-town
newspaper. Why should he, when in 1998 he was only home 30 days to read it? Perhaps
the most traveled paddler in the world, Schaeftlein paddled in more than 18 countries last
year, racking up a whopping 300 total on-water days.
The epic began with a two-month, multi-river trek to New Zealand, where he guided and
ran rivers at every chance. By March he wrapped it up Down Under and headed for the
U.S. to take advantage of El Ni-o in California. Two months and countless high water
runs later, he headed back to Europe, hooking up with the legendary Kern brothers for a
whirlwind, four-month kayaking rampage-using a motorhome the group rented from his
parents-that took him to Corsica, Italy, France, Slovenia, Switzerland, Germany, Austria,
Czech Republic, Wales, Norway and Sweden. After drying off from that road trip he
headed back to the U.S. in September for Gauley season, and then traveled back to
Europe in October to design the new Zwo playboat for Eskimo. Following an epic surf
kayak trip to Hawaii, he ended the year the way it began-joining the migration of kayakers
to the crystal clear waters of New Zealand for the Rodeo PreWorld Championships.
Scott Shipley
Age: 27
Hometown: Poulsbo, Washington
Days paddled: 346
Days home: 200
Number of countries visited: 9
Number of rivers paddled: 18
Frequent flyer miles earned: 18,000+
Most unique shuttle vehicle used: Police car (no boats involved).
Worst spanking traveling: After flying from Munich to Atlanta, I drove straight to Dagger
to pick up a race boat and then sped to the Knoxville airport to fly to Portland for the
Gorge Games. Upon arriving in Portland, I compounded my jet leg by waiting three hours
for a ride that never showed.Then I saw a group of windsurfers walking by and I bummed
a ride, stuffed in the back of a van where I could barely manage to dilute their pot smoke
with van exhaust sucked though the vent. After they dropped me off at a hotel with a No
Vacancy sign, I found a racer's car parked out front and tied my boat onto it, and then I
snuck into the hotel behind a few late arrivals. I tried several options before ending up in
the hotel laundry room on the first floor, where I made a bed out of sheets and towels.
Three hours later I was awaken by someone yelling at me. Once he left, I ran out of the
hotel with my three bags (no, I didn't steal a towel). Five hundred yards later, I ducked
into a McDonalds to see if the Hobo Police were coming. Then I heard the same voice
yelling at a person at the counter-turns out it was the same bum who ran me out of the
hotel.
Worst spanking paddling: At the rock at the bottom of Oceana in Tallulah Gorge.
Favorite destination in 1998: Hood River, Ore.
Next on hit list: Spain
1998 Itinerary: "I was stuck in school full-time last year," says three-time World Cup
Slalom Champion Scott Shipley, "so it wasn't such an impressive traveling schedule." If
visiting nine countries and paddling 346 days a year isn't impressive, we'd hate to see
what is.
Shipley's numbers stem largely from his training regime. He trains on the water 10 to 12
times a week in spring and summer before cutting down to a leisurely eight times per
week in the winter. In conjunction with training, he also keeps an active traveling
schedule. Shipley began his "unimpressive travel" year in Bakersfield, Calif., paddling on
the Kern River and Pacific Ocean. By February he was down in Atlanta and North
Carolina hitting such rivers as the Chatahoochee, Chattooga, Nantahala, and such
low-volume runs as Soap and Rottonwood creeks. He stayed in Atlanta, studying and
paddling, until heading north in May for the Team Trials on Wisconsin's St. Croix River.
June saw his first international foray of the year as he trekked overseas to Europe,
Slovakia and Slovenia for the first three World Cup events of 1998.
July was just as hectic, with various obligations taking him to Hood River, Ore., for the
Gorge Games; Wausau, Wis., for World Cup #4; Pheonix, Ariz., for training; South Bend,
Ind., for the Nationals; and Atlanta again for training. In August it was back to Europe to
join an Australian training camp at Spain's La Seu D'urgell ("It gets me free coaching and
free water," he says); a trip to France; and World Cup #5 back in Spain. Afterwards, he
actually relaxed for four non-paddling days on the beach. October and November, believe
it or not, were devoted to school in Atlanta (although he still trained) with December
bringing him back to the Northwest to train with Canadians on the Chilliwack. "This year
should be better," he says. "I'll probably travel 10 months and my frequent flyer miles
should exceed 75,000."
Buffy Bailey
Age: 26
Hometown: Vero Beach, Florida
Days paddled: I don't keep count.
Days home: 39
Number of countries visited: 13
Number of rivers paddled: I don't keep track.
Frequent flyer miles earned: Enough for a free ticket around the world.
Most unique shuttle vehicle used: Riding on top of a local Nepali bus with our kayaks
and a bunch of chickens.
Worst spanking traveling: I haven't been spanked traveling internationally, which
means it's still coming!
Worst spanking paddling: I don't like to talk about my spankings.
Favorite destination in 1998: Nepal
Next on hit list: Zimbabwe, Africa
1998 Itinerary: Team Perception's Buffy Bailey began her year as would any normal
international hair boater: with a trip to South America to paddle in Chile, Argentina and
Bolivia. She returned home to Florida briefly in March before heading West for spring
boating in California. This was interrupted by a flight overseas to Europe for the 1998
Teva Tour, which took her paddling in Germany, Corsica, Italy, Switzerland and Austria.
To complete the circle, she returned to Germany for the European National Rodeo
Championships on Augsburg's Eis Kanal. In September she flew to Nepal, guiding for
Ultimate Descents on a variety of rivers through November. "I finally came home in
December," says Bailey, who paddled in 13 countries in 1998. "It was great. I was home,
happy and dry in Florida for Christmas."
Brennan Guth
Age: 29
Hometown: Missoula, Montana
Days paddled: 260
Days home: 80
Number of countries visited: 7
Number of rivers paddled: 45
Frequent flyer miles earned: 20,000
Most unique shuttle vehicle used: Jet Ranger Helicopter
Worst spanking traveling: Figuring out a way to convince an angry Corsican Nationalist
not to push our shuttle vehicle into the Golo river with his bulldozer.
Worst spanking paddling: Missing a boof on the Ritzanaza river in Corsica and ending up
in a small cave behind a slot waterfall. Not too bad for me, but I put my paddling buddies
watching from shore in a bad place as I couldn't figure a way out for five minutes.
Favorite destination in 1998: Argentina
Next on hit list: If I told you I would have to kill you.
1998 Itinerary: Like many of his ilk, Brennan Guth, owner of Missoula, Mont.'s Tarkio
Kayak Adventures, began 1998 in South America-guiding in Argentina and Chile and
pulling off a couple of notable waterfall firsts, namely the Salto Los Alerces in Argentina
and Salto del Indio in Chile. Returning in March, he immediately embarked on Teva Tour
'98, taking him to Corsica, Italy and Germany. Back in the U.S., he spent the rest of the
summer leading kayak trips in Montana and Idaho for Tarkio before heading to Alaska to
run a first descent of the Bremner River in Wrangell St. Elias National Park-billed by
some as "the last great problem" of North American whitewater. Not to waste any time
that could be spent paddling elsewhere, Guth's group knocked off the supposed five-day
descent in six hours. October and November saw him back in the Lower 48 running his
kayak school before December brought him south again to Venezuela to paddle and
scout new runs. In all, he notched 45 different rivers in several countries, racking up more
than 260 paddle days.
Davey Hearn
Age: 40
Hometown: Bethesda, Maryland
Days paddled: 287 (400+ paddling sessions)
Days home: 246
Number of countries visited: 11
Number of rivers paddled: 25+
Frequent flyer miles earned: 27,220
Most unique shuttle vehicle used: Oxcart, Upper Pacuare River, Costa Rica. Runner
up: Pullman Motorcoach Bus-boats fit underneath diagonally.
Worst spanking traveling: Picked up a parasite in Costa Rica diagnosed as
blasto-systus hominus, which made me pretty weak for awhile. On the same trip, I also
had my boat broken by an "unnamed" airline on the way home.
Worst spanking paddling: On the slalom course in Liptovsky, Slovakia, I flipped to my
offside onto a rock and tore my paddling jacket. Still, that pales in comparison to getting
arrested in 1996 for surfing the Potomac at flood and getting dumped in the parking lot
upside down in my boat by the National Park police.
Favorite destination in 1998: Returning to the 1992 Olympic Whitewater course in La
Seu d'Urgell, Spain.
Next on hit list: Sydney, Australia, for the 2000 Olympics.
1998 Itinerary: You can't get in more than 400 paddling sessions in one year without
having a paddling itinerary that reduces your shoulders to rubber. Even though Olympic
C-1er Davey Hearn notched the majority of these days near his home in Bethesda, Md.,
he definitely put in a few miles traveling. "It wasn't as big of a year as some-especially for
air travel," he says. "But I still managed to get out a lot." The final days-paddled tally
came after he sat down in April and filled out his tax forms. The total for 1998 came to 60
days on foreign trips and 52 days on domestic trips, with in-between days filled with
training locally.
After training at home on the Potomac River through January, Hearn headed to Costa
Rica's Rio Reventazon for the National Team Training Camp. From there it was back to
the U.S. and the Southeast for the Nantahala Doubleheader and training on the Olympic
course before rallying north to New England for a series of races. The pace continued in
May with the U.S. Team Trials in Wisconsin, a downriver race on the Potomac and the
Potomac Whitewater Festival. June saw training at home interrupted by a flight to
Germany for the World Cup circuit. After driving to Augsburg to practice on the 1972
Olympic course, he headed to Slovakia for World Cup #1, Slovenia for World Cup #2 and
back to Augsburg for World Cup #3. In between, he squeezed in a trip for "fun" on the
Soca River.
July's routine of Potomac training was sidetracked by a drive to Wisconsin for World Cup
#4, followed by a visit to South Bend, Ind., to win his record 16th National Championship.
Naturally, he ran the Upper Yough on the way home. The harried itinerary resumed in
September when he flew to Spain to train for the 1999 World Championships and final
World Cup, before returning home for Gauley Fest-the first time in recent history he had
been in the country to do so. Although the arrival of his first child, Jessie, in February
might slow down his travel plans somewhat in 1999, he doesn't plan to let any grass grow
under his wetsuit booties. "I should be real busy in 1999," he says. "Especially with the
Olympics coming to Australia."
Dunbar Hardy
Age: 29
Hometown: Durango, Colorado
Days paddled: 215
Days home: 55
Number of countries visited: 6
Number of rivers paddled: 70
Frequent flyer miles earned: 50,000
Most unique shuttle vehicle used: Porters...we carried our own boats with self-support
gear up Nepal's Modi Khola River for two days before hiring porters who strapped the
boats onto their heads and took off barefooted.
Worst spanking traveling: While wearing sandals, I jumped onto a crowded bus and rode
hunched-over in the aisle. At one stop people in back sprinted towards the exit and one
guy stepped on my toe in combat boots. I got off a few stops later and saw that my
toenail had been ripped off and was bleeding everywhere. Moral: ride on the roof.
Worst spanking paddling: I'm currently healing from breaking three vertebrae while
running a 50-foot waterfall in Ecuador. I had to get carried out on a wooden bench,
transported 6.5 hours to Quito in a 40-year-old, push-started ambulance with broken
windows. I've now officially retired from running really big drops.
Favorite destination in 1998: Views of Annnapurna I and II while hiking into Nepal's
Upper Modi Khola; and the whitewater of Nepal's Upper Marsyandi River.
Next on hit list: Canadian Rockies
1998 Itinerary: Seventy rivers and 50,000 frequent-flier miles in one year-that's a new
river every 5.2 days and 136 airline miles every 24 hours. "Without a doubt it was a big
year," says Dunbar Hardy, who traveled and paddled most of the year with accomplice
Polly Green. "We definitely traveled and paddled a lot."
The odyssey began in January when Hardy headed south for a 25-river tour of New
Zealand, many of which saw him guiding for up to 10 days at a time. He returned to
Durango in March to train for slalom, but left for California soon afterwards for the rodeo
circuit. From there it was just the usual: a tour through the Northwest that landed him in
British Columbia for a photo shoot; a multi-river, multi-month jaunt through Idaho,
Montana and Wyoming; a swing back through Idaho to teach and guide; and finally a
10-day paddling tour through Canada. He then returned to Montana to guide before
drying off at Salt Lake City's Outdoor Retailer tradeshow. A teaching stint at the
Nantahala Outdoor Center brought him east for six weeks of hair, rodeo and surf
paddling and then it was off to Nepal for two months of multi-day trips (he ended the year
by competing in the first-ever Bhote Khosi Rodeo). After laying-over in Thailand, he
returned to the States Dec. 20-just in time to wash his clothes, buy a plane ticket and
head down to Ecuador.
ying handles and eyelet straps, with backrest, rudder system, hatches, thigh straps and
tank straps available as extras. "We don't just build what's convenient and then try to find
a market," says Cobra president Warren Aitken. "We go into the field and find out what
paddlers want and how we can help them have the ultimate good time."
The high kneel is a canoe that looks like a kazoo: the fastest, least stable, and most
incongruous of all canoes; surely the most confounding of all boats to paddle. (Its formal
name is the Olympic canoe because its whole purpose is for racing in the Olympics.) It's
an extreme, preposterous hull that feels weightless, disdains equilibrium and requires a
paddler to be up on one knee, teetering at wobbly heights.
Zibi, a Polish paddler who now makes his home in Chicago, is the fastest high-kneel
canoeist in this country, at one time the 12th fastest in the world. And he is on a mission
to win an Olympic medal in Australia in 2000.
He's come a long way since he first tried and flipped such a boat 10 years ago on a cold
November day as a Polish schoolboy named Zbigniev Wadzynski. His coaches saw
possibilities after he flipped all winter-and still paddled in February. Now he paddles with
a presence that conjures images of heroic figures in WPA murals of the 1930s; he makes
the boat seem just a technicality, hardly noticed, like shoes on sprinters. He makes it look
that easy.
Zbigniev took to calling himself Zibi when he came to Chicago five years ago. He spoke
no English, which Chicago spoke relentlessly (though it has the largest Polish population
of all cities except Warsaw). He worked as a roofer and carpenter and began picking up
tradesman's English and TV idioms. Early on he learned that Americans resolutely
balked-culturally, cognitively, collectively, phonetically-at enunciating the clashing
consonants of his full name. "I said Zbigniev," he says. "Guys said 'What?' So I said 'OK,
Zibi'. It was easy for me to spell."
He didn't like Chicago. He came because he was the only son and youngest sibling in a
close family committed by circumstance to shuttle back and forth between Poland and
Chicago; his passage to Chicago was exceedingly ill-timed because at the time he was
the Junior High Kneel Champion in Poland. He had been winning Polish nationals,
finishing high in the World Championships, and had prospects of full subsidies to train in
the high-kneel utopia of Eastern Europe. He had to leave all that because family ties
were stronger.
"I was not happy here," he says. "I didn't speak English. I didn't have friends. I didn't
paddle. It was winter and I worked construction. Then I went back to Poland to finish
school and came back to Chicago, which was worse than coming the first time. I started
thinking about a new life in Chicago, which I didn't want. One day I was riding in a car on
the freeway next to Lake Michigan, and we went past a lagoon; I saw a canoeist, and had
to find him."
He found Steve Bornhoeft, a college student who was the only active high kneeler of 7
million people in the Chicago area. He found the Lincoln Park Boat Club, which occupied
a cavernous old boathouse by the lagoon and had a dozen brittle old high kneelers: a
laggardly and decadent fleet but the only one in mid-America. He had abandoned hope of
ever paddling in Chicago and had long since despaired the fantasy of a boat club existing
in America. At first glance this one looked like a sanctum for scullers, kayakers and urban
dilettantes who would shun high-kneel canoes like Slavic consonants. But it was real, and
in this foreign country he would not be disheartened that it was not utopian. From then on
he liked Chicago. (He was in fact one in a long procession of paddling champions who
came from Eastern Europe-up to six each year-who chanced upon the Lincoln Park Boat
Club. Zibi, however, was the most tenacious and talented in a long while.)
Zibi and Steve became friends and training partners, ignoring a language barrier that was
unimportant on water though bothersome on shore. They raced in a club regatta that also
served as the 1994 Midwest Regional. They were the only high kneelers and finished first
and second in all high-kneel events, qualifying for the national championships in Seattle.
Zibi said he wasn't ready. Steve persuaded him to go along just to look around. Zibi said
he wouldn't really be competing: he'd just be paddling for fun. He'd be the stranger from
Lincoln Park, somebody nobody knew. Just for fun he finished fifth in the 1,000 meter
and sixth in the 500, and soon everybody knew him.
"Guys came over and wanted to talk to me," he says. "They said, 'Hey, who are you?
What's going on?' They didn't believe I had been training without a coach. My problem
was I couldn't understand them: all I could do was shrug and smile. But I began to think I
could compete for America. I thought about it all the way back to Chicago. My mom said,
'OK that's your choice, that's your life.'"
In Chicago he trained. He did carpentry. He practiced his English. In the 1995 nationals
he finished third in the 500 and fourth in the 1,000. In 1996 he was second in the 1,000
and third in the 500, in both the National Championships and U.S. Team Trials. In 1997
he was on the National Team training at Olympic training centers in Colorado Springs,
Colo., and Chula Vista, Calif., working with Polish coach Jerzy Dziadkowiec. He won the
1,000 and finished second in the 500 in both the National Championships and the U.S.
Team Trials. He competed in the World Championships and came in fourth in the
1,000-meter semifinals, one place short of the finals. He was now the best high kneeler in
the country, full of raw talent and power and showing every sign of going faster. He was
catapulted into sudden stardom in an arcane sport, which made things stressful.
"I'd had deep feelings about the World Championships," he says. "But now it was all
about the big, big games-the 2000 Olympics-and not just making the games, which is
what the Americans think about, but winning the medals, which is what the Europeans
think about. I was 100 percent focused on training and competition, but I was always
needing money. My parents had been my sponsors for two years, but I couldn't ask them
for more money. I got some money, not much, from an insurance agent in the Polish
community and some from my girlfriend's beauty salon. I moved to Chula Vista and tried
the American program, but after three months I didn't feel good about the training. And I
was running out of money and needed work and couldn't find any. So I went back to
Chicago."
Zibi had become (even by his own reckoning) the enfant terrible of the U.S. Canoe and
Kayak Team (USCKT). He didn't like the training plan, or understand much of it. He was
disillusioned with his coach, who was a first-rate coach for kayakers but only improvised
training in the abstruse technicalities of world-class canoeing. And Zibi was sorely
disappointed with the USCKT, which required him to pay most of his own way and then
said it couldn't afford an actual high-kneel coach. He brooded on what might have been
had he stayed in Poland and received bountiful subsidies and world class coaching to
refine his technique-without which he saw no chance for Olympic medals.
"In competition on this level, technique is 80 percent of the difference between winning
the medal and trailing back with the other guys," he says. "On the American team we're
all very strong. We've got good endurance. But all of us-including me-have very bad
technique. I told the guys I'm going back to Chicago because I know myself, and I want to
train so I feel good about it afterwards: I want to do my own program. The director told
me if I leave Chula Vista I'll never be very fast, but it's my choice, so just go and they'll be
looking for me."
In Chicago he ate health food and dedicated himself to workouts-paddling, running, lifting
weights-twice a day and all alone. After a month he called USCKT and withdrew from the
European tour, largely because he couldn't afford it. He competed reluctantly, and poorly,
in a minor regatta: his coach and teammates thought something was wrong, like his plan
wasn't working. He told them he'd be ready in three months; he'd see them at the
nationals.
"I know I'm a difficult guy," he says. "USCKT has a problem with me because I'm not
quiet when I don't understand some plan. But this time I just felt good. I had a new
strategy. I was in control. And I won by so far that I forgot about everything. I didn't care
about the medals. Everybody said, 'Zibi, you're the man.'"
"He knew better," says Zibi's sister Marzena Wadzynska, who is closer to him than
anybody. "I have to say he was irresponsible. He knew what he did was stupid. But I
could feel the tension in him; so could my father. He was all alone. He was crying for
help."
Then things began looking up. A new boat of revolutionary design emerged from Poland.
It looked less like a kazoo than a whistle with dragonfly wings, and it proved incrementally
and significantly faster-10 seconds over 1,000 meters; it won all nine events in the world
championships-though it was so tippy that it had the best high kneelers in Europe either
breaking records or flipping like novices. Zibi paddled the new boat just long enough to
know that he would have to change his whole technique to make it fast. And he resolved
to master it.
The Polish community in Chicago threw a fund-raising banquet which covered most of
the price of the new boat. USCKT hired a canoeing coach named Marek Ploch, who
came from Poland by way of Canada and proved wise and resourceful in the nuances of
high kneel technique. His guidance was subtle but pointed; he revealed critical insights
that no one else had ever shared. "I believe this guy," Zibi says-the highest compliment
he pays anyone.
Zibi went back to the national team, and his technique soon began to improve. He began
to paddle faster. "I know he was a problem child," says Ploch. "He was upset because no
one here could make him faster. When he went back to Chicago he was looking for
different ways to make himself faster. He was almost ready to go back to Poland when he
found I was going to coach
Hotline Blurbs
Paddling for...Votes
As if campaigning from the back of a railway caboose had become passé, Democratic
Senate candidate David Osterberg last year staged a Canoe Campaign across Iowa.
Osterberg's campaign consisted of four "river journeys" across the state to highlight
concerns for the environment, regulation and water quality. Along the way he pitched tax
breaks and other incentives for property owners who practice environmental
responsibility and sustainable agriculture techniques along the state's waterways, which
could be "economic development engines," capable of drawing tourists from within and
outside Iowa. "I've been struck by how different the water quality can be on one stretch of
river," says Osterberg. The canoe campaign took him on stretches of the Big Sioux, Des
Moines, Missouri, and Mississippi rivers, meeting with groups in cities along the way to
discuss the environment, social security, the farm economy and regulation. Apparently
his ideas-and paddling campaign-didn't hold much water with Iowa citizens. Osterberg
was defeated by incumbent Charles Grassley in a landslide election. -ahb
Win a Raft Trip on the Wheel
Whitewater rafting in Idaho isn't the normal prize you'd expect from one of the longest
running game shows in the country. But if you look closely, you'll see Whitewater Rafting
on a Wheel of Fortune wedge-land there and you'll be whisked away to Riggins, Idaho,
where you'll join Idaho Afloat for a trip on the Lower Salmon River. "They got our name
because we were the first whitewater rafting company in Idaho on the Internet," says
Idaho Afloat co-owner Jeanne Howard. The Wheel touts the trip as a $2,200 value, and
picks up the tab for airfare and half of the company's expenses on the giveaway. Since
joining the show's sponsor list in 1995, Idaho Afloat has been approached by The Dating
and Newlywed games for similar promotions, but it has shied away. "We're a little unsure
about the audience of those shows," says co-owner Bruce Howard. "We didn't know if
those would be the people you'd actually want on a river trip." -ahb
Award-winning outdoor adventure filmmaker Lynn Clark, 35, of Forester Falls, Ontario,
drowned while working and playing on the ice-choked Ottawa River earlier this year.
Clark was kayaking an open stretch of rapids on the Ottawa near Beachburg, Ontario,
and was preparing to film two other paddlers when she capsized, was trapped beneath
the ice and drowned. "The world is going to miss Lynn's work," says Veronica Griner of
Easley, S.C.'s Perception. "Fortunately for all of us, she left her mark on everyone she
met and left behind enough reminders so she will never be forgotten."
Clark's work can be seen in a series of half-hour whitewater paddling shows on national
networks in the U.S., Europe and South America. She was the recipient of a number of
honors from the National Paddling Film Festival, Waterwalker International Paddling Film
Festival and Banff International Festival of Mountain Films. She had recently returned
from a month of filming in Chile. "She was a pretty incredible woman," says Ken Whiting,
former Ottawa resident and current World Rodeo Champion. "She developed a lifestyle
for herself in which she made a living and gained the respect of all who had seen her
work. A lot of people would never consider trying many of the things she succeeded in
doing." -ahb
Olympic Course Preview
If George Jetson were a kayaker, he would feel right at home on the new 2000 Olympic
Whitewater Course under construction in Australia. Housed at the International Regatta
Centre west of Sydney, the course is only the second slalom site in the world-joining
Barcelona, Spain's La seu d' Urgell-to have a mechanical conveyer belt, connected by
ponds at each end of the course, to ferry racers back to the start. "I think the competitors
will really like it," says U.S. Canoe and Kayak Team spokesperson Lisa Fish. "They won't
even have to get out of their boats-they can paddle right onto the conveyor and get
shuttled back up." Upon completion, the course will fall 18 feet in its 975-foot length, and
will be between 26-46 feet wide with artificial beaches. Course designers will place
boulders to create race features. The icing on the artificial cake are six
three-foot-diameter water pumps located adjacent to the tail pond that will re-circulate
565 cfs back to the head pond to create the course's current.
-For more information, including a virtual reality tour of the course, visit www.slalomsite.com/index.html. -Peter Stekel
Cussing Canoeist
Profanity and paddling don't usually mix. At least that's the feeling in Standish, Mich.,
where a sheriff's deputy recently ticketed local Timothy Boomer for using foul language
after capsizing his canoe. According to Associated Press reports, Boomer was paddling
his canoe on the Rifle River, and after upsetting the boat he upset a woman and her two
children with a lash of profanities. An officer heard the commotion and ticketed Boomer
under an 1897 Michigan law that prohibits cursing in front of women and children. A
judge then upheld the archaic law, ordering Boomer to stand trial. Although Boomer's
defense attorney William Street argued that the defendant was within his First
Amendment rights, County Judge Allen C. Yenoir didn't buy it. "This cannot be what the
framers of the Constitution and the First Amendment intended to protect," he told
reporters. The case had not gone to court as of press time. -edb
Minneapolis Gets Preliminary Nod for Whitewater Park
When early Voyageurs passed through present-day Minneapolis, they were confronted
with a 70-vertical-foot rapid. A group of whitewater enthusiasts hope to return it to its
original glory, using it for paddling instead of portaging. The Mississippi Whitewater Park
Development Corporation (MWPDC), which last year got Minnesota state legislature to
appropriate $100,000 for a feasibility study headed by Ocoee Olympic course designer
John Anderson, is going full steam ahead with plans to create a whitewater park at lower
St. Anthony Falls in downtown Minneapolis. "I am fairly confident the study will say it's a
good idea," says MWPDC chairman Bill Tilton. "Then all we'll have to do is raise the
necessary funds." Tilton estimates the course will cost around $5 million to construct, and
adds that the first step is to go to the table with the site's two landowners-a local power
company and the University of Minnesota. "We hope to be on solid ground within the next
couple of years," says Tilton. "It's an interesting case as it combines urban paddling with
the reclamation of a river. After all, the area where we want to build the park used to be a
giant rapid."
For more information, contact: MWPDC, 2220 Firstar Center, 101 East Fifth Street, St. Paul, MN 55101; (651)
224-7687. -edb
What do fish swimming upstream have in common with slalom racers vying for a berth on
the next U.S. team? Apparently, not enough. Fishermen on Maryland's Savage River, the
proposed site of the 1999 National Slalom Team Trials, had reservations about raising
the water level enough to make a slalom course. Rightly so-the trials occur when the fish
are spawning, and too much flow could spell a mass-kill. So, the fish were granted a stay
of execution and Tennessee's Ocoee River landed what it considered a great catch. With
last minute juggling, the Ocoee Whitewater Center hosted top paddlers from around the
nation May 14-16 for the team trials. "We're finally reaping the rewards of being a
world-class competition site," says 1996 Olympic Team Manager Lisa Jacobi. "Hosting
the team trials means we have a shot at securing the 2000 Olympic Trials. And we are
already the host site for the 2001 World Championships." -edb
No-Octane Regatta Welcomes Paddlers
Held every Father's Day since 1991, the No-Octane Regatta for Wooden Boats, held on
New York's Blue Mountain Lake, welcomes all wooden boats propelled by person or
wind. This year's event was no exception, with countless canoeists and sea kayakers
paying homage to wooden craft of all shapes and sizes. Sponsored by the Adirondack
Museum and the American Canoe Association, the Regatta mixes serious paddling
competitions with recreational events like the hurry-scurry race, dump race and jousting
competition-all of which are designed to help spectators and participants appreciate the
uses and forms of wooden boats. "It's the only event of its kind where people can enjoy
an early summer day in the Adirondacks and experience the beauty and joys of wooden
boats," says museum public affairs director Ann Carroll. Toy boat building, guided tours
of the museum, demonstrations and workshops, a life-sized Street Puppet Theater,
children's workshops, a barbecue barn dance, and guideboat cruises are all part of
Regatta Weekend. Info.: (518) 352-7311. -ahb
A True Boat Test
Sometimes the best feedback comes from the field. In a testament to boat durability that
could never be duplicated in a testing facility, England's Guy Baker recently dropped his
Pyranha Acro 275 kayak 1,000 feet into the Humbo Gorge while hiking into Peru's Colca
Canyon. According to reports, the kayak slipped from the back of a pack mule and
bounced down a 70-degree precipice of scree and rock. It took more than five hours to
recover the boat from the gorge, with damage restricted to a few scrapes and two
missing end caps. As fate would have it, the rescue and ding-test was in vain: the
kayak-loaded with three days' supplies, a digital video camera and a sleeping bag-was
lost two days later when Baker swam on a Class V section on the river. -Heather Gunn
Thinking Ahead
Those wondering when Montreal, Quebec's Riot Kayaks is planning to release its new
Saiko kayak are advised to keep their helmets on. Marking one of the most foresighted
production schedules in paddlesports history, company co-founder Corran Addison
blanketed the market last fall with a press release announcing the debut date for the
kayak to be 12:01 a.m., Jan. 1, 2000. "Can you think of a better way to define a new
millennium than with the most radically advanced kayak ever conceived?" he asks. "The
20th century is not capable of handling it." -edb
Travel Discounts for Paddlers
If international expeditions and competitions have left you cash-poor, look into the new
Fitness Travel Card (FTC) discount card which, among other things, offers a 50 percent
discount on canoe and kayak passage on airlines for boat-toting paddlers. For a $74.95
annual fee, FTC members receive unlimited access to RacePlanner.com, the largest race
information and registration website; members also can book travel reservations directly
through the FTC Ticketing Desk. Continental, TWA and Delta airlines, as well as Alamo
and Avis car rentals and over 10,000 hotels all provide additional benefits to paddling
cardholders.
Visit www.fitnesstravel.com for more information. -ahb
Having a child is a rite of passage every bit as much as sticking one's first combat roll.
Unfortunately, I was all too aware from friends reaching this milestone that kids and
kayaking don't always go hand-in-hand. So with my wife due in February, I did what any
expectant father would do: I called a few buddies to go kayaking down in Mexico. A last
hurrah of sorts, I figured, before paddling gave way to parenting.
Timing, of course, was still an issue. I would return, I told my well-endowed wife, on Jan.
10-in plenty of time should she experience a premature runoff. Hall pass granted, I then
pitched a few paddling friends on the last hurrah angle and booked reservations with
Agua Azul Adventures in the heart of Mexico's aptly named Sierra Madre. And the trip
wasn't entirely self-serving; to help justify the time away from wife and zygote, I vowed to
not just run waterfalls but also to polish up on the nuances of parenthood.
To help with the latter, I enlisted the help of the renowned Dr. Spock and his timeless
Baby and Child Care book. If anything could help prepare me for fatherhood as much as
a boating trip to Mexico, this was it. Bringing it along meant exposing my jugular to my
boating buddies, but I was willing to risk jeers from my peers if it meant becoming a better
father.
Like my wife disguising her pregnancy with maternity clothes, I tried my best to hide the
book on the plane, stuffing it inside an in-flight magazine to serve as a shield. Inevitably, I
was discovered. "Hey! Look who brought a baby book!" said my rowmate Dave when he
glimpsed the cover. "I bet you only get 10 pages read the whole trip."
Soon my remaining friends joined in; the heckling had begun and we hadn't even touched
ground. Vowing to prove my detractors wrong, I ignored their remarks and attempted to
digest the good doctor's advice. My reading plan, I quickly learned, was ambitious-almost
as ambitious as our plan to paddle six of the next seven days. It would take a few shuttle
break-downs to get through the book's 939 pages. But I absolved to put my head down
and punch through it-just like powering through a hydraulic.
Like negotiating a long rapid, it didn't take long to get disoriented-especially when I turned
to the 14-page-long Table of Contents. Subheads such as "The Parents' Part," "Common
Behavior Problems" and "First Year Feeding" soon had my head swirling as if I were
upside-down in a whirlpool. But then I saw it, the first Spockism I could relate to: "Many
fathers feel they're being called on to give up all their freedom and former pleasures.
Others forget their hobbies and interests. Even if they do occasionally sneak off, they feel
too guilty to get full enjoyment." Is that the way I would feel at the brink of my first
waterfall? Before I had time to answer, my reverie was interrupted. Sitting next to me,
Dave broke out a battered copy of Tom Robey's A Gringo's Guide to Mexican
Whitewater, dangling it like a carrot in front of a horse. I put Dr. Spock away.
After changing planes in Houston, I gave the doctor another chance. Once again his
words struck home: "For too long fathers have gotten away with the clever ruse that they
lacked the intelligence, manual dexterity and visual motor-skills to change a smelly
diaper." What better way to enhance one's intelligence, manual dexterity and visual
motor-skills, I reasoned, than by paddling? I made a note to apply the skills I learned on
this trip to my baby's bottom back home.
After taking a bus to Ciudad Valles, a few miles from our basecamp on the Rio Micos, we
pacified ourselves by sucking down a few Coronas while waiting for our pick-up. We used
the time to meet the rest of the clients, getting to know one another like couples in the
Lamaze class my wife and I had just finished back home. This, however, was a markedly
rougher crowd. When I used my limited Spanish to say "I am happy," Jeff, a return client
from Washington, saw the opening and pounced. "Yeah, well you better enjoy it," he
chided. "Your life's over." Heckle session round two had begun. Naturally, I countered.
"How do you know?" I asked. "Do you have kids?" His response put an end to the
subject. "Nope," he replied. "I had a vasectomy when I was 20."
At camp we settled around a fire with another pacifying round of Coronas, and I took the
time to assess what I was up against. The respective kid-factors of my cohorts didn't look
promising. Homer, my cousin from Salida, Colo., was the only one with child. The rest
were staunch birth control boaters: John: kidless; Jeff: kidless for life; Dave: kidless,
wifeless and dogless; 21-year-old Annie: still a kid; Mike and Dion: married seven years,
no kids. I wasn't going to find much sympathy from this crew.
Retiring to my palapa, I sought advice from the venerable doctor, glancing through such
subheads as "The Reluctant Weaner," "The Important Sucking Instinct," and "Breast
Engorgement Due to Plugged Ducts." As I read, I noticed baby reminders everywhere.
Outside, the lapping of the river took on the metronome of a wind-up baby swing. Above,
mosquito netting hung down like a mobile. And in the cot next to me, John's raspy
breathing painted a future of having to share a room with another body. The reminders
continued as I awoke to parrots squawking the next morning. "Better get used to it," said
John, unable to resist an early morning jab. "Soon that'll be your baby."
After breakfast, we chose from a line of kayaks in a rack, pointing fingers like fathers in a
nursery. The selection process evoked a not-too-flattering image of my wife. Eight
months into it, she was beginning to look a lot like Perception's Mr. Clean-skinny on the
ends and rather bulbous in the middle, like the snake who swallowed an elephant in The
Little Prince. Pushing the image aside, I piled into the shuttle rig with the rest of the group
and headed for the Micos, which means "monkey." "You know...those cute, small cuddly
things," said Dave from the backseat. "Like a baby with hair."
The water at the put-in was baby-bottle warm. "Might want to test it by slapping some on
your arm," said John. Dave threw the next punch, handing me a tube of Water Babies
sunscreen. My only escape lay in the river. Cinching my PFD as tight as a Snuggly, I
paddled off the first drop, severing my umbilical cord from the eddy above. As soon as I
landed I wished I hadn't snipped it so soon. I also yearned for some of my wife's belly-the
extra forward weight might have kept me from a flat landing.
Like a toddler taking a few stove touches to learn the word "hot," we ran the drop again
and again, even after experiencing less than perfect lines. Child psychologist Jean Piaget
calls the first two years of development the "sensori-motor period, where infants learn by
doing..." We too were learning by doing. When someone landed flat, everyone else
adjusted their behavior by leaning forward. When someone landed too far forward,
everyone else leaned back. It was operant conditioning at its finest, and if my newborn
was capable of learning half as quickly, she would be in fine shape.
On the paddle out at the end of the day, we ran into another group from Colorado, here to
film a video. Their ringleader quickly explained why producer Paul Tefft wasn't with them:
he was saddled down with newborn twins back home. Vasectomized Jeff pounced.
"Better enjoy it," he said again. "You probably won't be getting out much after this either."
Another harbinger reared itself farther downstream; just before camp a large stork stood
pretzeled in the middle of the river. "Might want to call your wife," said John. "It could be
an omen." That night I took his advice, borrowing the camp's satellite phone. She wasn't
home.
The harassing continued that night when I took off my shorts and exposed an adult
version of diaper rash. Drying the offending neoprene in front of the fire, I felt like target
practice for a Hecklers Anonymous meeting. "You won't be needing to keep that part of
your body warm any more," said Jeff. "It can freeze up now-it's served its purpose." To
escape similar barbs, I retired to my palapa and sought solace from the benevolent
doctor. Tonight's lesson: How Human Beings Get Their Aspirations. "A man may react to
his wife's pregnancy with various feelings. There can be a feeling of being left out, which
may be expressed as...wanting to spend more time with his men friends." Not if they treat
you like this, I thought. Then again, maybe there was something to the doctor's words
after all. The passage could be loosely interpreted to mean paddling is a natural reaction
to fatherhood. Intrigued, I continued. The next chapter was entitled, "What Kind of
Delivery Do You Want?" For my wife, it boiled down to one word: epidural. I was simply
hoping for a painless delivery off of the next day's 25-foot waterfall on the Rio Salto.
At the fall's brink the next morning, I felt a few Braxton Hicks-like contractions as my
stomach tightened with nerves. Luckily, I had another Spockism to rely on: "Trust
yourself...you know more than you think you do." Helping me gain the necessary
knowledge was Dave, who missed his line, exited his boat like a c-sectioned baby and
swam at the fall's base. Armed with his miscalculation, I stroked for the left and sailed off
into a perfect delivery, my bow bouncing up at the bottom like a baby in a jumpy-seat.
Eventually we reached the take-out, located at the brink of an 85-foot waterfall called El
Meco. On the shuttle home, I asked our driver what it meant. The answer shouldn't have
been surprising: The Sperm.
The remainder of the week was filled with more rivers, more heckling and more
reminders of my impending date with parenthood. On our last night I called home again
and finally got through. Four weeks before our due date, I wasted no time in finding out
the crucial information on everyone's mind...the Broncos would face Miami in the
playoffs. Returning to the fire, I shared the news to a loud cheer. To celebrate the
playoffs, my wife not going into labor and a successful week of waterfalls, we sang and
gave toasts until we all crawled like babies to bed. The next morning, I felt better
prepared for fatherhood than ever-at least for the sleep-deprivation part. I felt even more
prepared when I strolled over to the campfire site, which looked like a band of toddlers
had ravaged someone's living room. Chairs were overturned, clothes were strewn about
and bottles lay in disarray.
After cleaning things up and saying our good-byes, we caught a bus to Tampico and
hopped on our plane. On the flight home, I again pulled out Dr. Spock, this time settling
into a chapter on ear infections-an especially pertinent one, I thought, since my own were
hurting from time spent upside-down. "Still reading that?" interrupted Dave from across
the aisle "How far did you get?"
Not very, I replied. But if Dr. Spock was a paddler, I'm sure he would understand.
Unbridled development is one of the most pervasive and menacing threats to the nation's
rivers, according to Washington, D.C.-based river conservation organization American
Rivers, which recently released its 14th annual list of the nation's top 10 most
endangered rivers. "Never have our nation's rivers been more in need of attention," says
American Rivers President Rebecca Wodder. "American Rivers has been compiling the
Most Endangered Rivers report for
14 years in order to rivet the nation's attention on the crises of our waterways and to
inspire and mobilize communities to save them." Of particular concern, she says, is
unplanned growth. "We've all seen and felt sprawl," she says. "But few people
understand the impacts of unplanned growth on rivers. We have made great progress in
cleaning up our rivers since the Clean Water Act was founded 25 years ago, but urban
sprawl is threatening to reverse those gains." Following are the organization's top 10
endangered rivers for 1999.
1) Lower Snake River: Washington
Threat: federal dams. Dams on the Lower Snake River have brought salmon and
steelhead to the brink of extinction. Since the early '70s, its fish populations have
dropped by nearly 90 percent. Yet, year after year, administrators use the same
approach to try and save them: on their way downstream, young fish are loaded in trucks
or barges and carted around the dams; on their way upstream, adult fish must climb
hard-to-find ladders. Many fish fall back through the hydropower turbines and are killed.
Scientists believe many fish that survive the journey to their spawning grounds are too
exhausted to reproduce successfully. "A terrible hoax is being perpetrated on American
taxpayers," says American Rivers' Wodder. "Every year we spend millions on bizarre
schemes to try and save these fish and every year fewer and fewer return to spawn." By
the end of 1999, the Clinton Administration will be required by law to produce a Snake
River recovery plan, which must dictate removing a portion of four dams on the Lower
Snake to let the river flow more naturally and enable fish to swim around the dams. "It's
cost-effective and straight-forward and will provide enormous environmental and
economic benefits," maintains Wodder.
2) Missouri River: Midwest
Threat: channelization, dams, bank stabilization, poor grazing practices. Once one of the
world's most dynamic rivers, the Missouri has been channelized into barge canals,
blocked by dams, and cut off from its floodplain by levees. Now the river's few remaining
wild sections are in trouble from stabilizing banks by lining them with rock, overgrazing
fragile riversides, and disrupting the river's flow with dams. Several key opportunities
exist this year to restore large stretches of the river. In particular, the Army Corps of
Engineers will propose long-awaited reforms in the way Missouri River dams operate.
3) Alabama-Coosa-Tallapoosa River Basin: Georgia, Alabama
Threat: urban sprawl, water withdrawals, pollution. The water wars of the West have now
moved east. Atlanta, the most sprawling city in the country, is growing so fast it threatens
the health of nearby water-sources. The city's rate of land consumption is eight times
greater than its population growth. As its boundaries grow, outlying towns are swallowed
by sprawling suburbs whose demand for water is increasing. One of the area's primary
water sources are the headwaters of the Coosa and Tallapoosa rivers, which feed a
major river basin in Alabama-one of the most ecologically diverse areas in the world.
Water managers now want to build a dam on one of the last remaining free-flowing
stretches of the Tallapoosa that will create a storage reservoir to serve Atlanta suburbs.
In addition, major industries and communities along the rivers are already pulling too
much water out of those rivers, making it difficult for the rivers to dilute pollutants.
4) San Pedro River: Arizona and Sonra, Mexico
Threat: urban sprawl, groundwater pumping. Arizona's San Pedro River is home to an
amazing number of bird, animal and fish species (it is one of the country's most important
flyways for migratory birds that winter in Mexico and breed in the U.S. and mid-Canada).
Urban sprawl around the river is destroying their habitat. The nearby communities of
Sierra Vista and the U.S. Army's Fort Huachuca are pumping water out of the region's
aquifer-which maintains the river's year-round flows-faster than it can be replenished.
Groundwater feeding the San Pedro is already down by 30 percent.
5) Yellowstone River: Montana, North Dakota
Threat: bank stabilization, flood control. The Yellowstone, one of the nation's last freely
meandering rivers, is becoming a rock-lined channel. The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers
is permitting property owners to stabilize the river's banks with rocks and build flood
control levees. The result impacts the river's wildlife. In just two years (from 1995 to
1997), the Army Corps doubled the number of permits given to property owners for bank
and flood control projects over the previous 12 years. As the river becomes channelized,
wildlife habitat is destroyed. In two years, trout populations in a section impacted by bank
projects and levees dropped by half.
6) Cedar River: Washington
Threat: urban sprawl, water withdrawals. Seattle sprawl may destroy one of Washington's
largest runs of salmon and steelhead. The Cedar River contains some of the highest
quality fish habitat left in the Lake Washington watershed, and the city's plan for
allocating water among competing needs (from endangered species to suburban
customers) may actually cause more damage to river wildlife. The plan will allow the city
to more than double its water withdraws from the Cedar to meet water needs of suburbs.
No studies have been done, however, on how flow changes will affect fish runs. The plan
will also exempt the city from sanctions under the Endangered Species Act if, in the
process, endangered fish are harmed.
7) Fox River: Illinois, Wisconsin
Threat: urban sprawl, pollution, agency inaction. The Fox River is becoming a showcase
for two of the most significant threats to our nation's rivers-urban sprawl and the failure to
enforce clean water regulations. Treated sewage released into the river from wastewater
treatment plants-already ill-equipped to handle Chicago's growth-is expected to increase
50 percent by the year 2010. Because the Fox drains into the Illinois, which drains into
the Mississippi, Chicago's sewage and runoff find their way all the way to the Gulf of
Mexico. The Fox is one of the most heavily used recreational sites in the Midwest,
producing almost $40 million in revenues for a five-state area. It also supports many
nature preserves. State officials, however, have failed to take action to clean up the Fox,
have been lax in regulating the plants, and have proposed weakening limits on certain
sewage plant discharges.
8) Carmel River: California
Threat: urban sprawl, water withdrawals, dams. The Carmel River is losing its battle
against central California's sprawling population and thirst. Monterey County, one of the
fastest growing counties in the state, is developing the watershed at a rapid rate. As a
result, more water is being pulled out of the river to serve exploding populations-much of
it illegally. The county is responding to the water supply problem by trying to build one
new dam and retrofit another without considering other cost-effective and more
environmentally sound alternatives like water conservation. The dam projects would cost
taxpayers millions of dollars, increase residential water bills by 60-80 percent, and
permanently alter the river and its wildlife.
9) Coal River: West Virginia
Threat: mountaintop removal coal mining. The Coal River is threatened by the largest
mountaintop mine ever proposed in West Virginia. The 3,000-acre mine would be located
at the Spruce Creek watershed, which the Environmental Protection Agency now calls
"near-pristine." Coal would be extracted by decapitating the mountains and dumping
leftover rock and soil into the valleys and rivers below. Mountaintop mine operations have
already buried hundreds of miles of West Virginia streams. In 12 years, almost 500 miles
of state streams have been lost to mountaintop removal mining.
10) Bear River: Utah
Threat: urban sprawl, water withdrawals, proposed dam. Salt Lake City is consuming
water faster than almost any other urban area in the country. Because of low water prices
throughout the state, much of the region's limited water is being used wastefully-almost
50 percent goes to lawns and golf courses. As a result, flows in the Bear River have been
dramatically reduced, threatening a bird refuge that supports one of North America's
largest populations of migratory fowl. Instead of creating incentives to control wasteful
water practices, the water district wants to build a dam that would cost taxpayers millions
of dollars and further reduce water flows to the refuge. -edb
Sea kayakers with Greenpeace bumper stickers and Earth Day T-shirts would seem
unlikely enemies to the preservationist movement, but wary environmentalists in one
Northern California community are watching the kayaking boom closely.
In West Marin county, kayakers are being accused of disturbing wildlife and
contaminating water in what has been called America's cleanest bay. "We may have to
have kayaks banned," says Barbara Salzman, an Audubon Society activist concerned
about the birds of Bolinas Lagoon. Salzman and other Auduboners are calling on
authorities to limit paddling in a lagoon that has been called one of the top 10
birdwatching sites in North America.
The Lagoon is one of a half dozen major stopovers for migrating birds on the West Coast.
Getting flushed into the air can cut short their stay at a time when it's crucial for them to
regain strength. "If there's a lot of disturbance, the birds can't rest; the birds can't feed,"
Salzman says. That same lagoon also is a rookery to dozens of harbor seals. Shy seals
and curious paddlers don't mix. A study of human/seal interaction showed paddlers
flushed the seals off the beach 26.8 percent of the times they were observed in the study
area.
Maria Brown, executive director of the Gulf of the Farallones Association (which
conducted the study), says kayakers are not giving predator-sensitive seals enough
room. "The mean distance for there to be a flush from someone on the water is 120
meters," Brown says. That's 93 feet more than a football field, a difficult distance for
curious kayakers and all but impossible at low tide.
A dozen miles north, in Tomales Bay, environmentalists are also worried about the birds
and the seals. And they are worried about something messier: human waste. Oyster
farms punctuate the long narrow bay that separates the designated wilderness area of
Point Reyes National Seashore from the rest of Marin County. The oyster farmers
depend on pure water to stay open. When 171 people fell ill with Norwalk Virus last year,
the farmers started looking for culprits. Kayakers, the fastest-growing user group, were
obvious suspects. "It only takes one person with human waste," says Terry Sawyer at
Hog Island Oyster Company, one of the oyster farms closed by the viral outbreak. "That's
all it takes." Oyster farmers and environmentalists admit there is no smoking gun and
authorities are looking closely at septic systems to trace the Norwalk outbreak. Still,
paddlers can camp on any tent-sized stretch of beach above the high-tide line in the
National Seashore and fears exist that not everybody is packing out what they packed in.
Environmentalists are calling for a requirement that kayakers carry portable waste
containers and National Park Service officials are beginning their first-ever permit
process for campers in the area. So far, a spirit of cooperation exists on the waters.
Commercial outfitters are going to meetings with environmental groups and park officials;
everybody wants to keep kayaking clean and green. Bob Licht of Sea Trek pioneered the
sea kayak business in California. He wants sea kayaking to stay the low-impact,
environmentally friendly recreation he knows it can be. "The outfitters know that their
business is at stake," he says. "They have to pay attention to these issues."
Michael Jeneid, a 50-year paddler and professional kayak guide who lives on the edge of
Bolinas Lagoon, voluntarily suspends his business during the winter waterfowl migration.
"Ducks have no tolerance whatsoever for kayaks," he says. "They take off, literally, when
you're a quarter of a mile away. You don't have the right to flush the waterfowl off what is
very specifically a duck sanctuary."
At least some of the conflict rests purely in the numbers. Paddlers, at least in large
numbers, are a relatively new user group and local residents, including the
environmentalists, have had less time to adjust to them. Residents complain about
shouting and sport utility vehicles with roof racks taking up the prime parking spots.
Kayaks can be a jarring presence, one that has gone from occasional novelty to daily
disturbance in less than a decade. "When I moved here, you never saw more than one or
two of them at a time. Now there are three services on the bay and two or three more that
come in every weekend with huge trailers with dozens of kayaks," says Mark Dowie,
president of the Environmental Action Committee of West Marin. "It just looks like a
whole flotilla of them."
So far, officials in both areas are opting for education over enforcement. Commercial
outfitters are being told to teach their clients to avoid wildlife and pack out waste. Signs
are going up along the water's edge. Local groups like Bay Area Sea Kayakers are being
contacted to spread the message. Both sides are calling it a fixable situation. "They're not
jet skis," Licht says. "It just takes some awareness on the part of the paddlers." -Rick
Polito
Eco Blurbs
To remind the government that paddlers want Ontario's wilderness protected, hundreds
of canoeists and kayakers-armed with boats, PFDs and sign-holding paddles-hosted a
high-spirited Portage for Wilderness around the Ontario Legislature Oct. 24. About a
hundred canoes-20 of them covered with signatures-were positioned to form a giant pine
tree in front of Queen's Park during the political portage. Many participants drummed on
canoes to enhance the show and many held signs taped to their paddles reading "Land
for Loons Not Logging," "These Cuts Will Not Heal," and "No Wilds-No Soul."
The event was organized by Partnership for Public Lands, a coalition of the World Wildlife
Fund, Federation of Ontario Naturalists, Wildlands League and 38 other conservation
organizations. "We used to think wild space was infinite, but not anymore," says event
coordinator Ric Symmes. "The end of nature is in sight, with 40 million hectares up for
grabs. The government-initiated round tables were dominated by industry and they
proposed only a 1.6 percent increase in protected areas over the 6 percent now
protected." The Partnership wants to protect 15 to 20 percent of government lands in
northern (much of it boreal forest) and southern Ontario.
- For more information, visit www.web.net/wild. -ahb
Paddlers taking to Idaho's Main or Middle Fork of the Salmon rivers should plan on
packing along a few extra five-spots in their drybags. A $5 per person per day
fee-demonstration project for both rivers went into effect Jan. 1, 1999. The fee applies to
all boaters using the waterways, including commercial clients and private paddlers.
According to the Forest Service, money collected will be used for a variety of river
corridor improvements, including repairing launch facilities, resource protection,
Wilderness and environmental interpretation efforts, annual operations and resource
mitigation. Users of the waterways will also be asked for suggestions as to how the
money should be allocated. Approved by Congress, the fee project was enacted to test
the idea of allowing money generated by user fees to be used at the site where they were
collected. -edb
Logging in the Grand Canyon
Next time you're in the Grand Canyon, you might hear the roar of chainsaws echoing off
the canyon walls as well as the roar of whitewater. Marking one of the few times a
tree-clearing project has been proposed for a national park, the Grand Canyon National
Park Service recently announced plans to free the Grand Canyon of dried-out old growth
accumulation on the forest bottom. Paddlers, however, don't need fear extra driftwood
floating alongside them. "It's not at all close to the river," says Grand Canyon Trust
spokesperson Brad Ack. "It'll be 6,000 feet above up on the rim."
Ack is quick to explain that the action shouldn't be construed as logging, but as
restoration. "It's cutting to thin unnaturally dense stands of trees," he says. "They're
dense because fire, a natural controller, has been suppressed in the area." Many
conservationists feel such a move might set a precedent that could encourage similar
actions in America's other national parks. Ack, however, feels the action is supported by
science. "I don't think they (opponents) have a scientific leg to stand on," he says.
"Science favors active restoration." He adds it's not the first time scientists have gotten
involved in restoration efforts for the park. The artificial flood releases from two years ago
are an example of the same attempt to save an ecosystem. "Suppressing fires is just like
putting in a dam on a river," he says. "All of a sudden the natural flow of the eco-system
gets stopped, and everything else is affected by it." -edb
Chetco River Spared from Gold Mine
Vancouver, B.C.'s Brooks Wetsuits announced a contest last fall to promote clean-ups at
popular recreational sites along North America's oceans, lakes and rivers. More than 20
groups participated in clean-up programs in the last half of 1998, removing debris and
garbage from popular waterways and submitting 500-word descriptions outlining the
site's location, organizers and participants, and demographics of the site's user groups.
"We saw a lot of variety in sites," says Brooks business manager Angela Lee. "It was
about 50/50 between paddlers and scuba divers. The paddling entries were broken down
to about half whitewater sites and half touring sites." A winner gets announced each
month, with participants receiving a variety of small prizes.
For more information, call (604) 986-3441 or visit www.uniserve.com/brooks. -edb
Washington, D.C.'s American Rivers recently released a proposal to restore the Missouri
River in time for the Lewis and Clark bicentennial in 2004. "Voyage of Recovery:
Restoring the Rivers of Lewis & Clark" calls for the restoration of riverside wetlands and
forests, dam operations that aid wildlife and recreation, revitalized riverfronts and better
livestock management. In particular, it calls for the restoration of side channels where
river wildlife can feed and reproduce; and for dams to release more water in the spring to
aid fish spawning and sand bar creation and less in the summer to aid nesting shorebirds
and recreation. "Lewis and Clark would not recognize most of the Missouri River today,"
says Chad Smith, Missouri River regional representative for American Rivers. "We can't
recreate the river they saw, but if we start now we can create a handful of places they
would recognize by 2004."
- For more information, visit www.amrivers.org. -edb
"You guys take as long as you like to figure out shuttle...the meter's running."
Exploring Ecuador
By Bryan Clark
When Spanish conquistador Francisco de Orellana first saw the Amazon River, he came
through this valley after leaving Quito and crossing the Andes. He wasn't a kayaker, but
you can rest assured that if he were he would have been a little tardy reporting back to
the Queen.
The blue morpho butterfly danced and flitted around Mark’s white helmet, its iridescent
wings flashing in the sunshine. Flashing just as brilliantly was a huge waterfall cascading
into the river nearby.
So it goes in Ecuador, one of the newest world-class playgrounds for kayakers. With
mountains like 20,702-foot Chimborazo and abundant Amazon rainfall, the country is
loaded with gradient and water, providing the core ingredients for a classic whitewater
vacation. Pioneered only recently, scores of streams course down the Andes into the
Amazon basin, offering everything from small technical runs similar to California’s Sierra
Nevada to large-volume jungle rivers unique to South America.
"It’s a candy jar down here," says Don Beveridge, 32, who has guided kayak trips in
Ecuador for four years. "Ecuador has wonderful topography. It’s only the size of
Colorado, but goes from nearly 21,000 feet in the center down to sea level on the Pacific
and nearly that on the Amazon side. I’ve never been anywhere where there was so much
good boating in such a close area."
After our run on the Misahualli, our group of seven returned to a rustic lodge where we
nursed a few cervezas, dipped chips in salsa and watched blankets of mist float through
the cloud forest. Even though we had just finished one of the best rivers any of us had
ever paddled, Beveridge and Small World Adventures (SWA) owner Larry Vermeeren
continued to enlighten us with stories about Ecuadorian rivers. The Misahualli, we
learned, is just the tip of the iceberg. Beveridge said his favorite is the Quijos, which
tumbles through a valley far below the town of Baeza, where SWA bases many of its
trips. "The Quijos alone has five different sections that offer everything from steep creeks
to large-volume waves," he said, gesturing with a bottle of Ecuadorian lager. "And there
are countless other rivers like it not far away. Better still, the people are friendly and
helpful."
The beer-waving Beveridge was quickly interrupted by Vermeeren, who had his own
thoughts to share. "I like the east side of the Andes because it only contains 10 percent
of Ecuador's population," he said. "You have your pick of incredible boating in a relatively
small area. Within an hour or so, you can choose from about two dozen wonderful runs
on eight rivers. It all depends on what you feel like doing that day and, of course, how the
rivers are behaving."
On our trip, we sampled seven different sections of whitewater is as many days, from the
Misahualli and Oyachachi to various sections of the Quijos and Cosanga. Along the way,
we ran into other groups of kayakers--some private some guided--with eyes equally as
large as ours. Some, like us, were down for a week while others had put work and family
aside and come for months. No matter our time frames, we all shared awe for the country
and its kayaking. For those wishing to explore one of the world's newest whitewater
playgrounds, here's a blow-by-blow rundown on the country's main boating regions and
their respective rivers.
At 6,000 feet, this part of Ecuador has a special feel — the water and air are cooler than
in lower-elevation parts of Ecuador, and there are fewer bugs and less humidity. When
Spanish conquistador Francisco de Orellana first saw the Amazon River, he came
through this valley after leaving Quito and crossing the Andes. He wasn't a kayaker, but
you can rest assured that if he were he would have been a little tardy reporting back to
the Queen.
Rio Quijos, Class III-V
The Quijos starts out technical and steep and quickly grows in size as feeder streams
pour in out of the Amazon. The majority of its runs are located upstream of 475-foot San
Rafael Falls, the highest waterfall in the country. The river's lowest run starts a few miles
below the falls and involves a two-hour walk for a three-day Class III-IV wilderness run. In
all, the river offers about 100 miles of whitewater. All of the river's runs have good
access, except the headwaters (Class IV-V) which involves a nine-hour,
machete-wielding walk into the wilds of the Andes. "Don and I did the first and probably
only descent of it two years ago," says Vermeeren.. Most of the bigger-volume sections
below the confluence of the Rio Cosanga have great play spots and are pool/drop in
nature. Vermeeren likes the Quijos area so much that he recently built his company’s
lodge right beside it, just east of the town of Baeza.
Rio Papallacta, Class IV-V
The upper section of the Rio Papallacta, above Cuyaja, is usually too low to be much fun
(although some swear by it for low-volume Class V creeking) or so high that it is too scary
even for big-water boaters. Rarely, it seems, does its flow fall in the perfect medium
range. If you decide to tackle its upper reaches, note that just above the put-in is the
Papallacta hotsprings and lodge, offering great views of snowy volcanoes and gourmet
food. The lower run is a great Class V day trip, but it is steep and technical. The rapids
are continuous and steep; if you are unfamiliar with the run, plan on lots of scouting.
Rio Cosanga, Class III-IV+
This river is south of Baeza on the way to the jungle town of Tena. It’s best to catch it
when it is flowing between 400 and 1,800 cfs. Vermeeren and his crew have kayaked
three runs on this river, including a hard-to-find section just above the town of Cosanga.
The lowest and hardest section of the river starts off with a bang, with the most difficult
rapids coming in the run's first half mile. As with most rivers in the area, there is also the
possibility of another run higher up the drainage
Rio Oyacachi, Class III+-VI
This river flows into the Quijos from the west and is a continuous, technical, clear-water
run. Even when the Quijos is a muddy mess, this stream was remains pristine —
probably because its watershed remains relatively untouched. It can be boated from 200
to 2,000 cfs. The entire run from the town of Oyacachi was first done (and probably not
repeated yet) by Beveridge, Adam Carter and Vermeeren in 1997. This is a very remote
and difficult four-day run starting high in the Andes and ending up at the Rio Quijos. The
normal run is a fun Class IV+ section above the confluence of the Rio Quijos. It has
beautiful, clear water with big, granite rocks and continuous technical rapids. Other
creeks in the area also have been boated, but they are small, have poor access and are
only runnable when there is "just the right amount of rain."
Quijos Valley to Tena
Running out of the Macaw mountains off the flanks of the Sumaco volcano, the Jondachi
offers continuous, creek-like kayaking. It has two sections divided by a bridge. The upper
section is more difficult of the two. Though both sections have a remote feeling, the lower
portion, says Vermeeren, is in a world of its own. This was the first Ecuadorian river
Vermeeren ran when he arrived in the country in February 1994. "I couldn’t find anyone
else to boat with," he says. "The only other kayaker I knew left the day after I arrived, so I
ran it anyway and instantly became hooked on Ecuador. Halfway down, I began plans to
phase out running trips in Chile and begin offering them in Ecuador."
Rio Hollin, Class III-IV+
The Rio Hollin starts out small with a creeky feel, but it can be a raging torrent by the end
of the two-day trip if it's raining. Be prepared for water levels of all walks, and don’t be
lulled by the river's initial creekiness. Though the run doesn’t have many places to camp,
the ones available are beautiful, offering everything you would expect from a jungle
campsite. Most campsites are close to the water, so if it rains be prepared to retreat to
the rainforest to escape high water. Above the put-in are a few waterfalls that have been
run occasionally, but most paddlers stick to the tried and true section. The run's highlights
include a 10-foot waterfall and the chance to paddle a Class IV rapid through a cave.
Tena/Baños Area
If you're looking for hot weather and warm water, this is the area for you. The rivers here
fan out around town and the availability of local transport makes the Tena/Baños area the
country's most popular region for kayaking.
Rio Misahualli, Class II-IV
The upper runs on the "Meesh" are steep, tight, boulder-choked and technical--you need
to have your wits about you to tackle them. You can boat above the end of the road but it
is a horribly muddy walk for the same paddling you get below. Between the take-out for
the upper runs and the town of Tena is a Class II run that makes a nice warm-up. Below
Tena, the Rio Hollin joins the Misahualli and the run becomes a Class IV big-water,
pool-drop river with lots of playing, wonderful rain forest and one tricky portage.
Depending on where you put in, the river offers boatable flows of between 200 and 7,000
cfs.
Rio Jatunactu, Class III
As with your first glance of 19,347-foot Cotopaxi outside Quito, your first impression of
the Class III Jatunactu is that it is big. And it is--it's one of the largest-volume rivers you're
likely to paddle in Ecuador. Catch it at high flows and it will take on a Grand Canyon-like
feel. But don't be alarmed by its size; the rapids are spaced out and most have very clear
channels. And the river's beauty matches its size, with great views of the rainforest,
Andes and riverside villages.
Rio Anzu, Class II-IV
The upper portion of the Rio Anzu is hard to find, but when you do you'll be rewarded
with a great Class IV paddle. This river gets easier the lower down you go, with the
lowest run offering a few miles of Class II before mellowing out and joining the Alto Napo
near Puerto Napo. The river usually runs clear, with boatable flows ranging between 500
and 2,500 cfs.
Rio Topo, Class IV-V
This run is closer to Banos than Tena and offers a long day of powerful, technical rapids.
It was first run by Jeff Pflueger and Gynner Coronel and has since emerged as one of
Ecuador's classics. But pay attention to flows. If it looks high from the take-out bridge
don't bother driving up to the put-in; you'll never make it on the muddy road. And if you do
venture there, take someone else's vehicle; the road to the put-in is one of the worst
shuttle roads in the country.
Rio Pastaza, Class III-V
You can see much of this run from the road. The river is big and pushy, and the rapids
are powerful with plenty of big holes. Even the stretches between the rapids are exciting
because the river is cruising at a fast clip. Unfortunately, the Pastaza is dirty from silt and
pollution, keeping it from being a true classic.
Santo Domingo Area
Located only a three-hour drive west of Quito, this is the most commonly rafted area of
the country. Most of the companies offering trips in the Santa Domingo area are based in
Quito.
Rio Blanco, Class III+
Local raft guides love this run for its great bird and wildlife. The river is straightforward
with kilometer-long wave trains at higher water. After the confluence with the Toachi it
becomes more pool-drop and contains more rapids. The upper put-in is near the town of
San Miguell de los Bancos, with several access points available below the river's
confluence with the Toachi.
Rio Toachi, Class III-V
The higher you go on this cloud forest river, the harder and more technical the runs
become. The water quality deteriorates somewhat below the town of Santa Domingo, but
even this section boasts several fun rapids. The most common run is through a canyon
called Sapo (Frog) Gorge.
Rio Caoni, Class II+
This is a rocky warm-water run with good access and easy rapids. It is a good place for
beginners since the flow is usually low and the environment so inviting.
Macas Area
This area, located south of Tena, is more out-of-the-way than Ecuador's other river
offerings, but it is well worth the traveling time. The weather is hot and humid, the water
warm and the scenery beautiful. Rio Upano, Class III-IV
The normal run starts near Macas and is usually done in four to six days. With planning,
you can run sections of this big-volume river as day trips. Warm water and a spectacular
gorge are the river's main attractions, as are the Shuar Indians—once headhunters—who
still live in the region. You're likely to see them paddling homemade craft as you make
your way through the waterfall-lined gorge. The section above Macas is more difficult and
suitable only for kayaks.
A Look at Larry Vermeeren
Larry Vermeeren, 44, bears a strong resemblance to actor Ben Kingsley, who starred in
the movie Ghandi. And like Ghandi, he has an easy-going nature that draws people to
him. Vermeeren began boating in 1975 on Colorado's Arkansas River and taught
kayaking since 1983, working for the Rocky Mountain Outdoor Center, NOLS and the
Nantahala Outdoor Center. Vermeeren first traveled to South America in the mid-1980s,
taking a paddling tour through Chile. There he met an Ecuadorian raft guide named
Alfredo Meneses who told him about Ecuador. "He told me I should visit his country
because it had really good rivers too," says Vermeeren. "He said there was a lot of virgin
territory to explore." After forming Small World Adventures in 1989, Vermeeren continued
to guide in Chile until 1993 when he first visited Ecuador and paddled the Jondachi River
near Tena. He was sold for life. "It was a two-day Class IV run," he says, "and it was all
beautiful jungle. It showed me the area's potential for paddling." Vermeeren has been
returning to Ecuador ever since, and last year build a kayaking lodge on the banks of the
Quijos. Sidebar2: Outfitters
·Small World Adventure offers nine-day kayaking trips to Ecuador ($1,370, including
kayak rental). For more information, contact SWA at P.O. Box 3214, Crested Butte,
Colo., 81224; (800) 585-2925; www.bewellnet.com/users/~kayakswa .
Endless River Adventures offers eight-day paddling trips ($1,295) and a 12-day
adventure ($1,695). For more information, contact Endless River Adventures, P.O. Box
246, Bryson City, N.C., 28713; (704) 488-6199; www.endlessriveradventures.com .
Yacu Amu Rafting offers customized kayaking and rafting trips in Ecuador. For more
information, contact Steve Nomchong, Yacu Amu Rafting, Amazonas N24-03 Y
Presidente Wilson, Quito, Ecuador; yacuamu@rafting.com.ec www.ecua.net.ec/yacuamu .
River Odysseys West offers 11-day trips to the Rio Upano ($1,895). For more
information, contact R.O.W., P.O. Box 579-BU, Coeur d'Alene, ID 83816; (800)
451-6034. · Nantahala Outdoor Center (NOC) offers paddling trips to Ecuador through its
in-house adventure travel program. For more information, contact NOC, 13077 Hwy 19
W., Bryson City, NC 28713; (704) 488-2175; adtrav@noc.com; www.nocweb.com .
For help with private trips and/or custom itineraries, contact Gynner Coronel at Rios
Ecuador, P.O. Box 17-07-9762, Quito, Ecuador; 593-2-588-264 (phone), 593-6-887-438
(fax), info@riosecuador.com or rios@uio.satnet.net.
It’s upstairs, where he’s been visiting with a fellow lodger, that I actually cross paths with
him. It’s March of 1998, four months since he completed his marathon journey from
Montreal, on the St. Lawrence River, to a point just 300 miles shy of the Pacific Ocean. A
total of 4,750 miles, accomplished in just one seven-month space, between break-up and
freeze-up. You’re expecting an individual of mammoth proportions.
A stringy 32-year-old with long, straggling blond hair, Taggart looks less like a
continent-conqueror than a combination of Neil Young (the young) and Kurt Cobain. It’s
an impression his attire--faded jeans, equally well-laundered flannel shirt--only serves to
reinforce, as does his later announcement that he plays guitar and sings. Whose songs
does he like to play and sing? Among others', Neil Young’s. Right now, during the
opening moments of our first meeting, he’s not singing, but talking. Only he isn’t talking to
me. He’s talking to a dog.
Before you conclude that Taggart’s a touch wacky, or perhaps still ‘bushed’ from
spending 200 days alone in a canoe, there are a couple of things you should know about
him. One, he loves dogs. Two, he probably is still a bit ‘bushed.’
Not that this is necessarily what’s going on here. The dog, a gregarious black lab pup,
belongs to the upstairs neighbor. Presently, the pup has managed to slip out into the
hallway, where he’s expressing himself, puppy-style. He’s leaping on me, and then
leaping on Taggart, licking, wriggling, his rubbery hind quarters a-swivel with excitement.
"I know how you feel buddy," Taggart says in a soothing voice, patiently putting up with
the pup’s antics. "I was like that too."
Here, the canoeist extricates himself from the dog long enough to let his eyes go wide
with the memory of some shape glimpsed on a shoreline--on some point or delta, some
piece of land somewhere in Canada. A figure, or maybe just the mirage of one; a hint of
civilization. And he makes as if he’s paddling vigorously towards that image. "People!" he
exclaims.
It’s a moment which says a lot about Taggart, and the massive trip he undertook in 1997.
On the one hand, he’s joking, deliberately overstating the degree to which he craved
human contact during his voyage; ever since his introduction to canoeing as a
teen--when he’d invariably be the ‘odd man out’ during fishing trips and end up having to
commandeer a canoe by himself--Taggart says he’s mostly preferred going it alone. But
at the same time it betrays a part of him which truly does hunger for companionship.
It’s an area in which he’s not had a whole lot of luck. His dogs--he’s had three--all died
young, victims of freak accidents. Worse, both his mother and his adoptive father died
prematurely, leaving him alone by the age of 26. His biological father is a person he’s
never met, although he believes he might have glimpsed him once. And his last
relationship with a woman, someone he says he truly did love, was called off just prior to
the trip. It’s a decision Taggart says he in many ways regrets, but the course he had
charted for himself simply didn’t coincide with the one that she had in mind. She wanted
children, stability, a person who would be around. Taggart wanted to cross the country by
himself. The two seemed mutually exclusive.
Above all, though, Taggart’s identification with the dog serves as a reminder that,
whatever the wider significance of his trip--setting a new mark for solo travel, breaking
the Rockies, calling attention to a route first blazed by Alexander Mackenzie in 1793--the
main thing was the process he had to go through on his own. In the end, Taggart’s epic
journey was less a date with history or even the country, than a kind of extended
appointment with himself.
For the record: Taggart appears to be the only individual to have ever tackled--and all but
wrapped up--the famous Voyageur route across Canada in such a short time frame.
Verlen Kruger and Clint Waddell did it (and then some) in a single season in 1971, but
they were a team. In more recent memory, the McGuffins, Gary and Joan, also made the
transnational odyssey--spreading it out over a 'comfortable' two-year period. Taggart put
in at the head of the Lachine Rapids in Quebec on April 16, and with two paddles, a pee
bottle, no ground support other than 10 prearranged food pick-ups, a tent, some pots,
and a single calendar in his head, began paddling. By November he was in British
Columbia. He crossed the Great Divide--an awesome feat in its own right--and entered
the Pacific watershed.
Ironically, this should have been the easy part: for the first time in two months, he was
heading downstream. Another 20 days and he'd be in Bella Coola, on the Pacific Coast,
adding his own name, perhaps, to the rock so famously autographed, two centuries
earlier, by Mackenzie. But winter had a different agenda. While in the Rockies, Taggart
had gotten his first taste of ice--a series of small lakes at the height of land had already
seized up. He was able to negotiate those by a combination of dragging, ramming, and,
at one point, hacking his way forward with his hatchet.
A 10-pound maul couldn't have helped him with the McGregor River. There, after a few
days' giddy ride on open water, he ran smack up against an ice-jammed canyon. It was
four miles long, high sided, impossible to crack. Taggart spent eight days holed up in his
sleeping bag, occasionally crawling out to attempt a fire, or to clear an SOS sign in the
snow, or to check on the freshness of some nearby grizzly tracks. Possibly he prayed. On
the ninth day a helicopter search and rescue team from Prince George appeared in the
sky above him.
"People!"
Taggart's basement: it's actually just one room of the basement, a tiny paneled space
crammed with camping gear, maps, a ratty couch, what appears to be a raccoon tail,
paddles, a banner he was presented with by friends on his return to Sudbury, his guitar,
and a painting by a local artist--a gift from his uncles--depicting a lone canoeist. Its title:
"When I Was Alone."
"I still think it's possible to get to the Pacific in one season," he says, leaning forward from
the couch, hands spread on his knees. "Looking back, there were a few times I took a
day or two off to rest up, thinking I'd save my energy. If I didn't take them off, I might have
been more successful getting to the ocean." As well, with what he knows now, he says
he could afford to push a bit longer on certain days and be confident he'd still find a
camping spot.
But you can only push so much, he admits. "When I read back through my journal, I can
see the times when I was exhausted," he says. "If I'd gone much harder, I might have just
wasted myself before the finish line. It's kind of a tortoise and the hare scenario." As
Aesop has it, of course, the slow but steady guy always wins; but then his tortoise wasn't
up against a country which happens to freeze solid five months out of the year. Taggart
throws his hands up.
Those hands, though they look okay now, took a real beating during his journey. Taggart
estimates he took a total of 4.8 million paddle strokes; his knuckles were regularly
swollen, and at night, he says, his fingers would "close up like flowers." He also dropped
15 pounds en route, largely because of the giardia he contracted on the Athabasca River
in northern Alberta. At that point, he was still 125 miles out of Fort Chipewyan, the
nearest town, and had to battle intense stomach pains before reaching a doctor. Although
he recovered relatively quickly--it took just four days of rest--he never did put the weight
he'd lost back on. It didn't help that his next test was the 700-mile-long Peace River,
which he had to battle upstream for 45 days. Shortly thereafter, while clawing his way up
the fast flowing Parsnip River in the Rockies, Taggart says he actually called it quits.
At least, he thought he had. "I couldn't go any further; it was too much for me," he recalls.
"I stashed the canoe and hitchhiked into Prince George--I had given the trip up." After
thinking it over for a few days, though, he realized how terrible it would be to pack it in
with the height of land so close within his grasp. "I regrouped, and got back in the canoe,"
he says.
Simple to say, harder to do. But Taggart can barely express how glad he is that he did
take up the struggle again. Breaking the Great Divide proved the literal 'high point' of his
entire journey. "I stood there at the height of land, where the Arctic waters switch over to
the Pacific, and just soaked it in for about an hour. I felt like the most fortunate person in
the world. I couldn't stop smiling...I still can't stop smiling," he says.
It was a long way to come for a person whose exploits as a canoeist were, until that
point, mostly limited to a small chain of waterways within the Rainbow District of Ontario,
an area couched within the LaCloche Mountain Range. Mountains in name more than
stature, these bare quartzite hills, a favorite subject of Canada's Group of Seven painters,
lie on the north shore of Lake Huron, within sight of the place Taggart considers his true
home: Manitoulin Island, the largest freshwater island in the world. It's there that his
mother stemmed from, and also where he spent most of his summers as a youth. As a
teen he delivered milk for Farquhar's Dairy, a Manitoulin institution, and it was through
that job, indirectly, that he got his first taste of canoeing. He and his co-workers would go
fishing on the weekends, venturing out into the North Channel or among the myriad small
islands of McGregor Bay. Often, Taggart would end up on his own in a canoe--but that
was okay with him.
"I actually liked being alone most of the time, and if I had the option to take a canoe, I
would take it," he says. "It's quiet. You have the opportunity to smell everything. It's
peaceful." So that accounts for his fondness for the "poor man's yacht"; the question
which still needs be asked is: at what point does a weekend fishing trip permutate into a
grueling lurch across the country? Taggart shrugs. "You get deeper and deeper into the
sport, and next thing you know, you're crossing the continent."
He's skipping a few parts, and he knows it. Some are rosier than others. "I wasn't on the
right track for quite a few years," he allows. While he always kept his passion for bass
fishing and canoeing, there was another part of him that hungered for the faster life of bar
hopping, highways. "Sex, drugs and rock'n'roll," he says, grinning in a way which might
have once been unapologetic, but now contains a flicker of embarrassment. Taggart
traveled widely, but not so much by canoe: those trips were by car, or thumb--wild trips to
New York, LA, Daytona. When he worked, which wasn't all that often, it was as a
construction laborer. He once came to blows with a friend and was charged with assault,
although Taggart says it's not how it might seem. "I had actually started to get back into
canoeing by then; that's partly what the fight was about. My friend was saying, 'What, you
don't like us anymore?'"
Taggart did, but he also realized he liked canoeing more and more. From there, it didn't
take much to begin dreaming about a trip across the nation, he says. The idea had
actually been in the back of his mind for almost a decade, ever since one pivotal fishing
trip. After exhausting the bass opportunities in McGregor Bay itself, he and a friend
began portaging into smaller, more hidden lakes, going deeper and deeper into Rainbow
Country in search of new fishing holes. And that's when it dawned on him. "I bet you
could make it clear across the continent like this," he recalls thinking. "There are trails
leading everywhere."
"After a couple years of the study, the hobby of it, I realized there was one trail which
went right across Canada. I asked myself, is it possible to do this in one year? That's
when the challenge started," Taggart says.
Travelling with him were memories of past paddling companions, primarily of the canine
variety. In the corner of Taggart's basement is an urn containing the ashes of his latest
dog, Sonny, which he hopes to soon scatter at McGregor Point, in the North Channel.
The dog before that, Chester, who was run over by a truck, is buried on a hill at Grace
Lake, in Killarney Provincial Park. Garf, his first dog, was shot by a farmer on Manitoulin
Island; he's been laid to rest at Killarney Lake. Taggart canoes all his dogs to these
beautiful spots. His pets' remains provide a kind of macabre key to the places he's
always been happiest.
It didn't take long for him to amass memories of other animals on the trip as well. During
his journey he saw an ample representation of what the country has to offer. "It's a zoo
out there," he says, laughing. "But it's good. We were all neighbors." Elk, caribou, moose
and deer all came within range of his tent. He also heard plenty of coyotes. "They'd holler
at night--that very chippy sound, almost like laughing and crying at the same time." It was
Taggart's turn to laugh and cry when a black bear bowled over his tent in the middle of
the night. "I was camped on an animal trail, and the whole tent came crashing in at about
2 a.m.," he says. "I didn't see him, but the prints were there in the morning." (Fortunately,
neither Taggart nor his tent was any worse for the wear.) Other bears came within view of
his campsites, but generally Taggart was able to discourage them from coming closer.
"I'd just use a few choice words in Italian or French that I picked up from the construction
sites," he says.
Portages were less avoidable, and became increasingly arduous. After the 9-mile Grand
Portage, Taggart faced an even 'grander' one in northern Saskatchewan--the 13-mile
Methy Portage. Being on the water, though, wasn't always a preferable option. Especially
the big water. The North Channel of Lake Huron, parts of which he knew by heart, was a
literal 'breeze' compared to what he would encounter on Lake Superior. There, in order to
get a jump on the wind, Taggart was getting up at 3 or 4 in the morning, and was often
done paddling by noon. "I don't recommend crossing Superior by canoe," he cautions.
"You should really use a kayak." Taggart lucked out on the west side of the lake, though,
where he says that for a good week or so it was perfectly calm. It's something Taggart
still marvels over. "It's amazing that such a big lake like that can be so still." The smooth
conditions allowed him to make large fetches of 5 to 6 miles; he was able to jump the
Nipigon Straits, for instance, and thus cut off a lot of the distance between Wawa and
Thunder Bay.
Perhaps the most uncanny part of Taggart's whole trip, though, occurred during his very
first day on Superior, near Sault Ste. Marie. There, at the end of a spit of land, the
canoeist says he believes he saw his biological father. "I actually knew he lived on Point
DeChenes, but I'd never seen him before," he says. To this day, he's still not sure if he
has; but as he paddled past Point DeChenes that day, he saw a man standing on a dock,
watching him. "This fellow gave me an over-exuberant cheer, a kind of
two-arms-in-the-air motion. It was like, 'go do it.'" So Taggart did.
That he didn't stop to confirm the man's identity might sound curious, but Taggart wasn't,
after all, on that kind of mission. When he set out to do this trip, he says, "I didn't want to
think about family too much, because you just worry about things. You have to just put
that wall up, and consider yourself alone."
It's a tough approach that not many would be prepared to take. For Taggart, it was
essential to the journey--the physical one, of course; but also the more inward journey.
And, because of it, he believes he's come out a better man. "I feel better about
everything," he says. "Up until a couple years ago, I was still enjoying the excitement of
being carefree. But now, with the things I've learned, it's tempered a lot of my
adolescence. It's been a real moral awakening. The discipline I learned, that strength--I
can use to conduct myself in society as well. I don't have my folks anymore; now it's me
that I have to answer to."
One of the biggest questions Taggart would put to himself in the months following the trip
wasn't so much ethical, however, as spiritual. Could he live with having completed 95 per
cent of what he set out to do? Part of him--the part that knew he'd given it his all, even
forced himself back into that hunk of wobbly-bottomed Royalex at the very moment when,
underweight and exhausted, and with winter setting in, all he'd really wanted to do was
call it quits--said 'yes.' But another part of him was haunted by what could have been. By
those final 300 miles that, monstrously, maddeningly, denied him the Pacific.
This past spring, Taggart set out to confront his nemesis, stuffing some supplies in a new
pack and hitchhiking from Sudbury to the West Coast. There he met up with Max
Finkelstein of Parks Canada, a river enthusiast he'd encountered during the '97 tour. The
two agreed to tackle B.C.'s Grease Trail--the famous overland route between Bella Coola
and the Fraser River, named for the eulachan (candlefish) oil that once literally soaked
the path, as leaking crates of the precious trade good were hefted over the mountain
passes by the Nuxalk Indians--together, but with a couple twists. Instead of attempting
this route from east to west, as Mackenzie had done when he discovered it, and as
Taggart himself originally intended to do, the pair would do the reverse. And instead of
hiking the full 225 miles, as Mackenzie and most sane individuals have done since,
Taggart and Finkelstein would do just a third of that distance on foot. The rest would be
by canoe.
It's now January 1, 1999, and the slide show Taggart's giving me on the wall of his
room--cluttered, as always, with camping gear--is proof positive that the duo's mad
scheme actually worked. After a seven-day, 75-mile slog uphill, over the Mackenzie and
Caribou passes of the Coast Mountains, carrying 50 pounds apiece, Taggart and his
partner reached the headwaters of the Blackwater River, where they'd arranged to have
a canoe flown in. "The top part of the river meanders through plateau country, but then it
gets into 200- to 300-foot canyons and is whitewater all the way," Taggart says. "When
we talked with people about the lower Blackwater, they said 'don't do it.'"
Nine thrilling days later, the pair was spit out, slightly rattled but surprisingly dry, onto the
Fraser River. Taggart was now just 60 miles downriver of Prince George, the place he'd
ended his trip the previous year. He was three days away from closing the loop. Taggart,
a relative novice when it came to whitewater, had let Finkelstein command the stern
during the duo's heady ride down the Blackwater. Now he assumed that post for himself.
Grinning, he steered the 17.5-foot foot Helman steadily forward until he reached his goal.
In all, Taggart had spent 20 days tying up the portion of the country that had eluded him
the year before.
Having a partner along certainly made last year's grudge mission easier, he admits, and
he enjoyed the camaraderie. Yet when describing future mega-routes he has planned for
himself--his goal for 1999 is to trace a wide, 3,000-mile arc through Ontario, following the
province's border and crossing the Hudson Bay watershed twice--Taggart really does
mean, 'for himself.' "I've found my little niche," he says, shrugging peacefully. "I'm a solo
tripper."
It's the kind of line that demands a bemused half-smile. Solo tripping, a niche? Taggart
will be in no danger of achieving hockey or movie star status any day soon for choosing
this curious occupation; for many winters to come, he can surely count on being the
same Sudbury subterranean he is now. But it's also, of course, a better conception to
have of himself than the ones he might have had previously--weekend bass fisherman,
milkman, party animal.
And heck, when it comes right down to it, what better pedestal is there than a height of
land?
At the 1997 Eco-Challenge in North Queensland, Australia, two U.S. Navy SEALS and a
U.S. Navy diver had to be rescued when Team Odyssey's boat capsized during the
79-km sea kayak leg.
On day two of the 1997 Raid, paddling inflatable canoes down the Senqu River in
Lesotho, South Africa, Corran Addison and Philippe Lepoul led Team South Africa past
21 teams in eight hours, moving from 33rd place to 12th. The next water leg proved less
fortunate. In the rafting portion, they passed seven boats in the first hour before a slow
leak forced them to shore, where they waited for six hours while a helicopter fetched
them a pump
They started as small community get-togethers, celebrations of spring, or, in some cases,
simply an enjoyable, active fundraising event. And in many places, that's what they
remain. But the explosion of multi-sport, multi-dimensional, adventure races around the
globe has grown to include everything from leisurely two-mile canoeing contests to
multi-day death marches designed for those looking to map out new parameters in
discomfort.
Whether you're looking for an ironman event with a solo sea kayaking leg or a
team-oriented race involving canoeing with the kids and family pooch, following is a
rundown of some of the nation's finer multi-sport, paddling races.
The Big Three
Founded in 1989 in New Zealand by French journalist Gerard Fusil, the Raid was
originally intended less as an athletic challenge than as a historic re-enactment. "The
whole idea was to re-create that expedition feel," says Marty Dugard, who has competed
in the past three Raids, held in Patagonia in 1995, South Africa in 1997 and Ecuador in
1998. "But it's definitely become more competitive over the years. A lot of that has to do
with the Americans. There was only one American team in 1994 and last year there were
seven."
The paddling portion of the race has always been an enormous factor where both skills
and a good amount of luck are necessary. On day two of the 1997 race, paddling
inflatable canoes down the Senqu River in Lesotho, South Africa, Corran Addison and
Philippe Lepoul led Team South Africa past 21 teams in eight hours, moving from 33rd
place to 12th. But the next water leg proved less fortunate. After a two-day pony ride and
an excruciating mountain leg, Team South Africa hit the rafting portion of the route. They
passed seven boats in the first hour before a slow leak forced them to shore, where they
waited for six hours while a helicopter fetched them a pump.
Dugard adds that while the whitewater portions of the event can be the most hair-raising,
it's often the flatwater stretches that enable teams to advance. "If you have a good
whitewater guide you're not going to lose or gain ground," he says. "It's usually the
endurance paddling that makes a difference." The importance of endurance took on a
whole new meaning during the 1993 race in Oman, when paddlers kayaking across the
Arabian Sea were forced to outrun an approaching storm bringing powerful winds and
six-foot swells. Then there was the 1991 event in Borneo, where competitors shared the
waterways of the Tutoh and Kubaan rivers with resident crocodiles and cobras.
Dugard calls last year's race in Ecuador "probably the toughest one yet," due largely to
the event taking place at over 13,500 feet. Apparently, organizers were simply preparing
competitors for the next Raid, scheduled for the year 2000 in the friendly, high-altitude
confines of the Himalayas. Contact information: Nelly Susil-Martin, (310) 271-8335.
The Eco Challenge
A spin-off of the Raid Gauloises, the Discovery Channel Eco-Challenge is a 300-mile,
seven- to 10-day grind founded in April 1995 in Southern Utah, when former British
Special Forces Red Beret Mark Burnett decided the U.S. needed its own version of a
multi-sport adventure race. Burnett was captain of the first U.S. team to compete in the
Raid in 1989, and the idea was to hold the Eco-Challenge event annually on American
soil. That idea faded quickly, however, when U.S. liability concerns and TV viewing
audiences got factored into the equation. "They're similar, but the Raid and the
Eco-Challenge are definitely different races," says Dugard, who covered the
Eco-Challenge for three years as a journalist. "The Raid is French and the Eco-Challenge
has much more of an American feel to it--probably a third of the teams are from the U.S.
and it's much more of a made-for-TV event."
A second Eco-Challenge was held later that year, in June, when an adventure race in
Maine was used as part of 1995's ESPN Extreme games. And it was strong ratings
during the broadcasting of those games that first get television executives interested in
adventure racing. The 1996 Eco-Challenge was held near Whistler, British Columbia, and
the 1997 event took place in North Queensland, Australia--where two U.S. Navy SEALS
and a U.S. Navy diver were among those who had to be rescued when Team Odyssey's
boat capsized during the 79-km sea kayak leg. At last year's race in Morocco, North
Africa, competitors were introduced to an entirely new twist on travel: crossing desert
sand dunes on a Dromedary Camel. Strong winds and pounding surf aided in the
disqualification of six teams during the sea-kayaking leg along the Moroccan coast.
These one-day competitions are made up of three-member teams that combine outdoor
activities such as running/hiking, kayaking, mountain biking and teamwork. One of the
significant differences between this race and others like it is the existence of special
"mystery events" intended to make teams work together in solving a particular problem.
"We call them the great equalizer," Arakelian says. "That's what sets our race apart,
because no matter how strong a runner or a paddler you are, you must work as a team to
put together a puzzle, get over a wall, whatever."
The events remain a mystery until competitors encounter them on the course, and
Arakelian says they've found this often creates a nice balance between serious
competitors and weekend warriors. Like the Raid and Eco-Challenge, teams must start
and finish together. Each race includes five to eight miles of trail running, 10-15 miles of
mountain biking, and one hour of kayaking--though the term "kayaking" is used loosely,
since many competitors are clambering into Sevylor inflatables for the first time. "It's
paddling in the sense that you have a paddle," says Joe Glickman, who competed in The
Bronx race at Orchard Beach Park in 1998. "But a lot of the people are just doing 360s."
Contact information: Michael Epstein Sports, (818) 707-8867; www.mesp.com
Starting near the top of Mission Ridge Ski Area, racers cross country ski three miles
before handing off to an alpine skier who must first hike 75 yards uphill, with skis, before
starting the descent. The downhill is followed by a 4.5-mile run, which leads to a 19-mile
bike ride, which leads to the river leg--an eight-mile paddle to Riverfront Park on the
Columbia River. Boaters paddle their way through five miles of Class I and II water on the
Wenatchee River, before finishing with a three-mile flatwater sprint to Riverfront.
The original five-member Ridge to River organizing committee has grown to become a
40-member race committee with a 14-member board of directors. Though it remains a
fundraiser for local groups, the list of beneficiaries has risen from two to 30 and in 1998
the organizing committee doled out over $8,500. Contact information: Sue Frese, Race
Director, (509) 662-8799; sue@r2r.org; www.r2r.org
Put on by the Mt. Bachelor Ski Education Foundation (MBSEF), the PPP begins with an
alpine ski leg down the slopes of Mt. Bachelor, followed by an 8-km cross country ski, a
22-mile bike ride into the town of Bend, an 8-km run along the Deschutes River and a
mellow, two-mile river leg. An added obstacle in this year's race will be a portage
required at the beginning of the boat leg. "They're replacing some grass in the park and
things will be pretty muddy down there," says organizer Lea Hart.
Boise, Idaho's Brad Page is reigning champ of the event, but as MBSEF Director Kevin
Burnett points out, the overall mellowness of the contest gives everyone a chance. "None
of the legs are overwhelming, so that makes it more competitive for more people,"
Burnett says. "We have winning times of an hour and a half and I think that's why it
continues to grow."
The 1998 PPP involved 2,700 competitors, 6,000 spectators and 600 volunteers. The day
of the race, the Drake Park area of Bend transforms into a festival of food, music, suds in
the Bud Light Beer Garden and sponsor booths. Contact information: Lea Hart, race
director, (541) 388-0002; mbsef@bendnet.com; www.bendnet.com/ppp
The event is based on the Mt. Baker Marathon, which used to take place in the early part
of the century. "It began in 1911 but ended in 1913 when a guy fell in a crevasse up on
the mountain," says race organizer Jeanette Brennan. "But we still maintain the spirit of
that marathon by making racers climb up the north face of Mt. Baker before skiing the
alpine leg."
The race re-started in 1973 and has been going strong ever since. "We have a team
come every year from our sister city in Japan," Brennan says. "And we had a team come
one year from our sister city in Russia." The race always takes place over Memorial
weekend and Brennan says wind figures prominently into the outcome. "The road bike
leg is 36 miles, the canoe stretch is 18 miles and the sea kayaking leg is five miles," she
says. "If it's windy, those three legs can be brutal." Contact information: Jeanette
Brennan, race director,(360) 734-1330; www.bellingham.com/seatoski
The race is as big as its acronym. The STOKER begins with a 900-foot climb to the top of
the Loup Loup Ski Bowl, on Loup Loup Pass, where competitors put on their skis and
race 1,500 feet back down to the Nordic exchange. "It's kind of like a Chinese Downhill,"
explains race director Scot Stuart, a 13-year ironman veteran of the race. "So the climb
helps spread things out a bit."
The Nordic leg isn't your usual 5K, it's an agonizing 16-mile journey, climbing 1,500 feet
to Buck Pass in six miles before dropping 2,500 feet back down to Peacock Meadows.
"We don't mess around," Stuart says of the lengthy cross country route. "It's the best
downhill on Nordic skis you can imagine." After the Nordic jaunt, racers face a 4.2-mile
run and a 20-mile bike ride, before finishing up with a 10-mile paddle to Omac down the
Okanogan River. "It's only Class I water," Stuart says. "But with a headwind you're bustin'
through whitecaps the whole way." Race rules allow only individuals to use kayaks.
Teams must go in canoes. Six-year winner Scott Holman, from Wenatchee, is the man to
beat. Contact information: Scott Stuart, race director, (509) 422-0800 ext. 123.
Gap to Gap, Yakima, Wash., June 6, 1999
Designed as a way to simultaneously show off and raise funds for the Yakima Greenway,
the Gap to Gap has been taking place annually since 1985 and has drawn competitors
from as far away as Australia. The race includes two biking legs and two running legs,
with one of each taking place on the 10 miles of paved trail that is the pride of the Yakima
Greenway. One of the runs is a cross-country race through a field. The paddling leg is the
third stage of the race and consists of a 10-mile paddle down the sometimes snag-filled,
Class II Yakima River. The day before the big race, always held the first Sunday in June,
organizers put on a junior race, for kids aged 8-14. "It's basically a scaled down version
of the Gap to Gap," says Cecelia Vogt, Executive Director of the Greenway. "Instead of
the field race, they run through an obstacle course, and instead of the Yakima River, they
have to paddle a couple times around a pond." Contact information: Al Brown, program
director, (509) 453-8280; www.yakimagreenway.net .
Other Contenders
Early April is still winter in the Tetons and on more than one occasion, competitors have
added snowstorms to their list of event obstacles. The race routinely sees over 500
competitors yet the winner's circle has been dominated in recent years by the husband
and wife team of Mike and Jana Freeburn, who make the trek up from Durango, Colo.
Like many other multi-sport events around the country, Jackson's PPP offers a multitude
of both racing and recreational divisions, including a fun class for those willing to dress up
and go for the "having the most fun" award.
The water leg is generally mild, but the temperature of the Snake in April can turn even a
short dip into a dreadful experience. Some of the fastest water comes right after the finish
line at the Astoria Bridge, and each year at least a few paddlers dump it in front of
everyone as they're trying to make it to shore. Contact information: Amy Critz, race
director, (307) 733-6433.
Wolf River Triathlon, Langlade County, Wis., August 21, 1999
The Wolfman Triathlon, now in its fifth year, offers Midwesterners the chance for a
multi-sport competition without having to head to either coast. The river leg comes right
off the bat, a 3.5-mile paddle down the Wolf River, a course that can offer some low
water challenges in August. "It's a boulder garden," says race director Patrick McCabe,
"with a few Class II rapids as well."
The paddling section is followed by a 12-mile bike ride and a 3.5-mile run, neither of
which is as difficult as the transitional stage from boating to biking, when competitors
must carry their bikes on a major crossing of the Wolf. "The racers are really toast after
that," McCabe says. "That's where everybody gathers to watch." Like many multi-sport
get-togethers, a lot of participants come just for the party, which at the Wolfman includes
a big pig roast and free microbrew. Contact information: Patrick McCabe, race director,
(715) 882-5771.
The Subaru Tsali Challenge, Bryson City, N.C., May 21-23, 1999
Put on by the Nantahala Outdoor Center (NOC), this event is now in its 12th year and
starts with a four-mile flatwater race on Fontana Lake. Any and all types of boats are
allowed and the NOC, Perception and Dagger provide boats for the boatless. NOC media
director Craig Plocica says race organizers try to arrange the boats to give everyone a
fair chance. "We handicap them as much as possible," Plocica says. "Sea kayaks in
back, sit-on-tops in front, that sort of thing."
The paddling leg leads to a five-mile single track run, and it can be pretty funny watching
people try to scramble up the bank in the transition zone after their legs have stiffened up
out on the lake. The run leads to a 12-mile bike race, along much the same sort of trail as
the run. This race used to include a paddling leg on the Nantahala River, but now it takes
place entirely inside the Tsali Recreation Area, about 12 miles southwest of Bryson City,
N.C. Contact information: Craig Plocica, (888) 662-1662 ext. 600; www.nocweb.com
Started in 1976 by NOC founder Payson Kennedy, former Olympic paddler John Burton
and Russ Callen (a professor at Georgia Tech), the Outdoorsman Triathlon takes place
over two days, with the individual racers competing on Saturday and the relay teams
racing on Sunday. In addition to the regular race divisions, a cash prize is awarded to the
top three college teams, each of which has to include at least one female. Sponsored by
the First Citizens Bank, the $300 prize is awarded to the winning team's Outdoor Club.
The second and third place college teams receive $200 and $100, respectively, also for
their Outdoor Club. The river leg down the Tennessee is limited to canoes only. Contact
information: Kirk Havens, (804) 684-7386.
Hotline Blurbs
Slalom paddlers tired of crowds at the Nantahala Outdoor Center take heart: a new
slalom venue recently opened on the French Broad River 10 minutes downstream of
Asheville, N.C. "It's always been a place for local boaters to go after work," says Steve
Thompson, an Asheville kayak instructor who helped design the course. "The NOC
course has really been the only slalom site in the area, so the reception for this new one
has been really strong."
More than 200 people showed up for the opening ceremonies at the Ledges Park
Whitewater Center Nov. 14, including such notables as Scott Shipley, Scott Strausbaugh
and Horace Holden. Thompson says the quarter-mile, Olympic-caliber course--built for
$30,000 by local contractor and kayak instructor Steve Zarnowski--hopes to host such
sanctioned races as the Junior Nationals in the future. "It's been a long, eight-year
process," he says. "Different people have carried the torch at different times, and it's all
come to reality now."
--For more information, e-mail River Link, a non-profit river improvement organization in Asheville, at
wwraft@mindspring.com --edb
On Oct. 17-18, up to 20 inches of rain fell in southcentral and eastern Texas, much of it
coming in a few hours. Water-surface elevations and streamflow discharges peaked at
record or near-record levels in the San Jacinto, San Bernard, Lower Colorado, Lavaca,
Guadalupe and San Antonio river basins. Scattered along these waterways were several
outfitters forced to brave the storm. None were hit as hard as New Braunfels' Rockin' R
River Rides, one of the largest rental liveries in the country. "Our offices, restaurant, boat
barn and vehicles are now in the Gulf of Mexico," says company manager Kevin Webb.
"We took a huge hit." Located on the banks of the Guadalupe River, Rockin' R runs a
fleet of 450 rafts it rents to customers who float an 18-mile section of the river. Half of
those rafts, nearly 250 in all, says Webb, were lost in the flood. "We keep everything in a
two-story boat barn, and that building had 13 feet of water in it," he says. "Pretty much
everything washed away."
The trouble started Oct. 17 when Webb went down to the Gruene Bridge at 11 a.m. and
saw the river running at about 600 cfs. It then rose 10 feet an hour and hit 30,000 cfs by 1
p.m. According to the United States Geological Survey, the river rose 35 feet and crested
at 130,000 cfs, a 100-year high. "It came up so fast we couldn't get anything out,"
continues Webb. "We moved two vans, a computer and a copier before it hit."
Vehicle-wise, the company lost 12 trucks, nine large school buses and 10 mini-bus vans.
"It took them and just twisted them around trees," adds Webb. "The next morning the
river was back to about 1,200 cfs, but it was Ground Zero everywhere." The company is
aiming to be back in operation by March 1. --edb
A True Boat Test
Sometimes the best feedback comes from the field. In a testament to boat durability that
could never be duplicated in a testing facility, England's Guy Baker dropped his Pyranha
Acro 275 kayak 1,000 feet into the Humbo Gorge last summer while hiking into Peru's
Colca Canyon. According to reports, the kayak slipped from the back of a pack mule and
bounced down a 70-degree precipice of scree and rock. It took more than five hours to
recover the boat from the gorge, with damage restricted to a few scrapes and two
missing end caps. As fate would have it, the rescue and ding-test was in vain: the
kayak--loaded with three days' supplies, a digital video camera and a sleeping bag--was
lost two days later when Baker swam on a Class V section on the river. --Heather Gunn
Water Cycling Association Formed
Bystanders passing San Diego's Mission Bay January 22 might have noticed some
peculiar, larger-than-normal water bugs skimming across the surface. As part of a press
conference announcing the formation of the North American Water Cycling Association,
more than 12 manufacturers--including Meyers Boat Co., MicroCAT Marine and Hobie
Cat--debuted a new breed of water-cycling craft to the public, giving attendees a chance
to pedal rather than paddle across the bay. "Water Cycling provides all the benefits of
bicycling without the inherent risks of pedaling on the road," says John Howard, a
three-time Olympic bicyclist and partner in HydroCycles Inc., manufacturer of the
pedal-powered Wave Walker. "I believe water cycling will be the next big revolution in
recreational sport--you don't have to learn any special skills, or be a great athlete to enjoy
it." Designs on hand ranged from pedal-powered catamarans to craft resembling compact
power boats.
--For more information, contact the North American Water Cycling Association at (619) 259-8972. --edb
If kayakers can get together to create an association like the International Rodeo
Committee, it's only natural that rafters could do the same. Following last September's
World Rafting Championships in Costa Rica, inflatable aficionados worldwide did just
that, banding together to form the International Rafting Federation (IRF), based in Cape
Town, South Africa. "It will become the governing body for rafting competitions
worldwide," says IRF administrator Sue Liell-Cook. "Its aim is to develop the sport of
rafting to the benefit of all involved, while not getting caught up with bureaucracy."
Bureaucracy, however, comes with the territory. As one of its first orders of business, IRF
released its official IRF Racing Rules, an eight-page document outlining international
race categories, competition schedules and qualifications. And, of course, administrators
will have to contend with more than 20 teams of rafters--all speaking different
languages--planning to attend upcoming World Championships.
--The 1999 Camel Whitewater Challenge (CWWC) will be held Aug. 15-21 on South Africa's Orange River; the 2000
CWWC will be held the last two weeks of February, 1999, on Chile's Rio Futaleufu. For more information, call (800)
467-6827 or visit http://members.aol.com/intraftfed. --edb
Harriman, Tenn.'s Dagger introduces the world's first paddling-specific endurance grant,
offered to support exploration of ocean and river via kayak and canoe. The $5,000 grant
will be awarded in June and applications are due by May 1, 1999. Qualified applicants
should visit dagger.com for a Grant Application and detailed listing of rules and
qualifications. "The grants will be awarded to modern day explorers who have a taste for
adventure and a talent for organization," says sponsorship program manager Mike Steck.
"The purpose of the grant is to help people paddle in places they would otherwise only
dream about."
Info.: www.dagger.com , (423) 882-0404 --ahb
The 2000 Olympic Whitewater course in Sydney, Australia, will be 975 feet long, 26-46
feet wide and include a conveyor belt to transport racers back to the start.
If George Jetson were a kayaker, he would feel right at home on the new 2000 Olympic
Whitewater Course under construction in Australia. Housed at the International Regatta
Centre west of Sydney, the course is only the second slalom site in the world--joining
Barcelona, Spain's La seu d' Urgell--to have a mechanical conveyer belt, connected by
ponds at each end of the course, to ferry racers back to the start. "I think the competitors
will really like it," says U.S. Canoe and Kayak Team spokesperson Lisa Fish. "They won't
even have to get out of their boats--they can paddle right onto the conveyor and get
shuttled back up." Upon completion, the course will fall 18 feet in its 975-foot length, and
will be between 26-46 feet wide with artificial beaches. Course designers will place
boulders at will to create race features. The icing on the artificial cake are six
three-foot-diameter water pumps located adjacent to the tail pond that will re-circulate
565 cfs back to the head pond to create the course's current.
--Peter Stekel
Having trouble finding financing to attend the Whitewater Open Canoe National
Championships (WWOC) in Colorado this July? Help is on the way. The Whitewater
Open Canoe Committee of the American Canoe Association (ACA) is offering $2,000 in
grants to ACA Paddle America Clubs, paddling schools and college/university canoe and
outing clubs to help cover travel expenses to the event. "We're just trying to help paddling
and college clubs and youth attend the event," says WWOC National Chair Kirk Havens.
"It's a win-win for everyone." For information, contact Havens at (804) 684-7386 or (804)
785-2107, or email kirk@vims.edu. --edb
Thinking Ahead
If international expeditions and competitions have left you cash-poor, look into the new
Fitness Travel Card (FTC) discount card which, among other things, offers a 50 percent
discount on canoe and kayak passage on airlines for boat-toting paddlers. For a $74.95
annual fee, FTC members receive unlimited access to RacePlanner.com, the largest race
information and registration website; members also can book travel reservations directly
through the FTC Ticketing Desk. Continental, TWA and Delta airlines, as well as Alamo
and Avis car rentals and over 10,000 hotels all provide additional benefits to paddling
cardholders.
Visit www.fitnesstravel.com for more information.--ahb
Calendar
May
1-2 Eastern National Surf Kayak Team Trials, Nags Head, NC (800) 948-0759
8-9 U.S. Surf Kayak Team Trials, Nags Head, NC (800) 948-0759
22-23 3rd Annual St. Louis Dragon Boat Festival, St. Louis, MO (314) 725-1907
29-30 East Coast Team Trials (Rodeo), Rock Island, TN (423) 756-9861
June
5-6 Potomac Whitewater Festival and Race, Great Falls, VA (202) 965-1917
5-6 Sotar Whitewater Cup, Clear Creek Whitewater Festival, Golden, CO (800)
GO-SOTAR/ (970) 923-3955
Although it's hardly cause to pack mousetraps in your drybag, you might want to give
paramiscus eremicus a little wider berth next time you paddle the Grand Canyon.
Last July, a commercial river guide developed the canyon's first reported case of
Hantavirus Pulmonary Syndrome (HPS)--a respiratory illness transmitted by
rodents--after sleeping beneath an overturned raft at Mile 19 Camp. "In the middle of the
night I was awoken by a mouse running around on top of me," says the guide, who chose
to remain anonymous. "Then I noticed a little moisture on my face--my reaction caused it
to urinate."
Although he didn't think twice about it at the time, a week after the trip he became
extremely ill, confusing doctors with a high fever, aches, pains and swollen lymph glands.
"It fools a lot of doctors," he says. "The symptoms are a lot like the flu--they tested me for
everything under the sun." Eventually, a blood test confirmed Hantavirus and the victim
remained in intensive care for four days before recovering. He was lucky. According to
Dr. Tom Myers of the Grand Canyon Clinic in Grand Canyon National Park, the survival
rate for victims of HPS is only 44 percent. And the disease has been responsible for six
deaths in Arizona since it was first discovered in 1993.
After the case was confirmed, two studies were conducted to determine the virus'
prevalence in the canyon. Larry Stevens of the Grand Canyon Monitoring and Research
Center set 100 traps at mile 19.5--where the victim was camped--and brought 43 live
mice back for testing. Four tested positive. Last September, the Arizona State Vector
Control, a division of the state health department, conducted another study, this time
gathering 98 mice from seven different sites along the canyon. After sending specimens
to the Infectious Disease Lab, two tested positive. "I don't know if we'll ever be able to
determine how long it (the virus) has been there," says Dr. Myers. "It's probably been
there a long time...the circumstances were just right this time for it to finally surface."
Helping it surface was last year's abnormally high mouse population, which many
attribute to increased moisture from El Niño. "But I don't think people need to lose sleep
over it," adds Dr. Myers. "What happened was such a fluke it would be rare to see it
happen again. But it does pay to be cautious."
Those wishing to be extra cautious can do so by planning their itinerary; while it might not
mean anything, says Myra Leslie of Arizona's State Vector Control, all of the positive
tests came from river left. --edb
In a day and age when most multi-month canoe expeditions rely on sponsorship, it's
comforting to know there are still a few Huck Finns who resist the corporate calling.
Such was the case last summer as Tom Delman, 25, and John Jolley, 27, took 80 days
and just $2,000--including boat, gear, food and travel--to become perhaps the first people
to canoe down the Snake and Columbia rivers from Jackson Lake, Wyo., to the Pacific
Ocean. "We were doing it for our own personal glory," says Delman. "We did it
completely unsponsored--although we did get a lot of help from people along the way."
For those who noticed and/or helped them, their lack of sponsorship was as obvious as
the route to the Pacific. Apart from their Kevlar canoe and K-mart jackets, all of their
trappings hinted of Lewis and Clark. They wore long-sheathed knives on their waists,
fished for most of their food, cooked over an open fire in a cast-iron skillet, carried a rifle
and a pistol, drank from a jug of whiskey, rolled their own smokes, and dribbled Bleach
into river water for drinking. Documentation-wise, all they brought were two disposable
cameras.
Naturally, onlookers gawked, and Delman kept a list of the things they were called along
the way: crazy, certifiable, stupid. People on shore screamed warnings of their impending
death, to which Delman and Jolley would smile and lean into another stroke. The farther
they traveled, however, the more acrimony turned into awe. "I knew right away these
were two good kids," says Don Mays, a Twin Falls, Idaho, outfitter who was guiding a raft
trip on the Snake when Jolley and Delman tied up to his raft. "They had a goal and were
fulfilling their dream."
To reach their goal, however, they first had to survive the Class IV-V Milner Mile and
Murtaugh Canyon sections of the Snake. And neither of them had ever seen that kind of
whitewater before (their first foray with water above Class II came Day 2 in the Snake's
Alpine Canyon). After honing their skills--and through Lewis and Clark trial and
error--they made it through Murtaugh in four days, lining only one rapid. It was in
Murtaugh, at a wave called The Idaho Connection, where they had their first broach,
spilling Delman into the Snake.
Hell's Canyon was "Disneyland" after Murtaugh, says Delman, although they punctured
their canoe at Granite Creek during the trip's only flip and received a $200 citation from a
ranger for paddling the canyon without a permit. The next 30 days were spent paddling
against relentless winds along the Columbia. They portaged dozens of dams and
paddled through endless reservoirs with ever-elusive horizons. They even survived the
Cascade Locks just west of Hood River, Ore., eventually landing at Washington's Fort
Canby State Park.
On the drive home, the two spoke little as exhaustion blended with a creeping realization
of their feat. "We were sitting up on the hood of the truck at this gas station and a guy
walked up and asked what we were doing," says Delman. "We kinda shrugged. Then he
said, 'Where you guys been?' Then John just looked at him and said, 'Now that's a damn
good question.'"
Rusty wasn't rusty in New Zealand. Taking the time Down Under to go up and over the
competition, 17-year-old junior Rusty Sage of Orangevale, Calif., took home the rodeo
crown at December's 1998 Rodeo PreWorld Championships on New Zealand's Waikato
River. "The whole reason I decided to compete with the seniors was just to humble
myself and learn something," he says. "I knew I was pretty good on a national scale, but I
wanted the experience of getting my ass kicked by the big boys. I guess it kind of
backfired."
That could well be the understatement of his here-to-now short-lived kayaking career.
Held on a giant breaking wave on the Waikato's Full James Rapids, the PreWorlds are
the dress rehearsal for the Rodeo World Championships, to be held at the same site this
December. Because of that, it drew a Who's Who of top-notch rodeo paddlers the world
over, each trying his or her hardest to wind up on top. But it was Sage, a decade younger
than the majority of attendees, who stole the show. And he did so the same way
competitors in other classes wound up on the podium: consistency.
A new finals system required competitors to push themselves while still playing it safe.
For the 90 male competitors, the 20 semi-final spots were selected on scores from the
best three out of four rides. The top 20 then took two rides each, which whittled the field
down to 10. The system continued until just two exhausted paddlers were left, Sage and
Germany's Ollie Grau. "Ollie had a great ride in the finals," says Sage. "But I had a
routine going and I just stuck to it. I can't even remember what I did in the ride--I just kept
moving.
"The key to the new system," he adds, "was being average. Not being the worst, but not
being the best. You didn't want to do too good on one run because then you would be
exhausted for the next."
That fate might well have been what kept 1993 World Rodeo Champion Eric Jackson
from the podium. In the preliminaries, he had by far the best run of the weekend, racking
up a whopping 750 points with the judges' new multiplicator point system. In contrast,
Sage's final run tallied 259 points compared to Grau's 237. "Eric had by far the best,
single-highest scoring ride of the entire event," says Sage. "He doubled, tripled and even
quadrupled other people's scores."
It's not the results or rule changes, however, that most competitors will remember. More
likely it will be New Zealand's friendly people, gorgeous countryside and, of course, the
nearby Kaituna River--which competitors flocked to after surviving their energy-depleting
heats. "It's a mile and a half of pure play," says Sage, who ran it up to three times a day
once the competition was over. "I was pretty pooped after the competition, but after
resting up I paddled it everyday--it was nice to just hang out and not worry about
competition."
--The new Rodeo Worlds rules are available at www.worldkayak.com. --Paul Villecourt
RESULTS
Men's K-1
1 Rusty Sage USA
2 Olli Grau GER
3 Corran Addison RSA/CN
Women's K-1
1 Deb Pinneger GBR
2 Brooke Winger USA
3 Jamie Simon USA
Junior Men's K-1
1 Helge Westeraas NOR
2 Aiden Lynch IRL
3 Skay Arne Randen NOR
C-1
1 Allen Braswell USA
2 Eric Jackson NZL
3 Paul Eames USA
OC-1
1 Mark Scriver CAN
2 Schorschi Schauff GER
3 Paul Eames NZL
Soul Boaters
In fact, if the Godfather of Soul was a kayaker, chances are he would be right alongside
Ed Lucero, Chris Emerick, Tamara Robbins and Brennan Guth this year as they embark
on their first annual Soul Tour to river festivals across the country. The idea, says
ringleader Lucero, is to promote safety and good judgment while providing a venue for
people to test new products. "I started thinking about it after Chuck Kern's death in 1997,"
says Lucero, whose original plan was to tour the country in a bus with the back chopped
off to serve as a stage platform. "The whole purpose is to give people something to look
for safety-wise and get them psyched about river running. I want to get old-school
paddlers into new school products--which are better and safer--and at the same time
bring old-school ethics to the new schoolers."
Sponsors seem open to the idea, with such companies as Surf the Earth, Orosi,
Mountain Surf, Riot, Dagger, Eskimo, 5.10, Patagonia and Salamander all signing on to
align themselves with soul. "I think it's a great concept," says Eskimo's Terry DelliQuadri.
"That's the essence of what kayaking's all about. Our slogan is 'Spirit of Kayaking' and a
soul-boating tour fits that perfectly."
Each event the group attends will feature free demos, a booth, pamphlets, sponsor
banners and, of course, a whole lot of "I feel good" soul. It's this soul that Lucero hopes
will convince more people to join the tour and follow it throughout the year. And, of
course, it's hard to ignore the tour's hidden agenda: "It's going to be like Endless Summer
was for surfing," says Lucero. "And naturally we'll get to paddle a lot of great rivers along
the way."
--For more information, surf www.mountainbuz.com/soulboating --edb
No mother deserved this fate--not even mine. True, my mother did some unforgivable
things to me as a child. Things that inspired permanent, smoldering resentment. Like the
morning in sixth grade when she flagged down my school bus as it pulled away from the
stop across from my house. At first all I heard was a woman's wild screaming--probably
some incoherent street person, I thought, or a hysterical neighbor whose Terrier had just
been flattened under our wheels. And then--oh the horror--my mother marched up the
front steps of the bus carrying the brownbag lunch I had forgotten. She held it up like a
dead rat for all to see, her eyes blazing with triumph. I died a thousand deaths when I
saw her: she was wearing her pastel blue nightrobe with matching slippers and hair net.
But searing memories like these, even the burden of massive therapy bills as an adult,
are hardly an excuse for drowning one's mother--which is essentially what I was doing at
the moment. I could see her frail form huddled in the front of the raft, ducking to keep
from being decapitated by the overhanging rocks. At the same time muddy, frigid water
rose swiftly around her as our overloaded boat began to flood. The situation looked grim:
in a moment she would either be beheaded or drowned.
The canyons were indeed spectacular, but the Dolores was not even remotely
intermediate. Granted, under normal conditions most of the rapids would rate Class III,
but a record snowpack had transformed the river into a raging torrent of icy brown water.
Our raft was a puny speck of flotsam, swept along like a dead cow in a flash flood.
Strike Two: Our Crew: Myself, my parents and my two sisters. Five was a pretty slim
number to paddle our 16-foot raft. To make matters worse, two of us were not what you
would call able-bodied: my father had the metabolism of a hyperactive squirrel and the
physique of an anorexic; and my mother, though we told her otherwise, was a totally
ineffectual paddler, in part due to her unnerving tendency to stop paddling at critical
moments--just above a massive, knife-edged boulder, for example--to relate an amusing
anecdote or point out an interesting bird. I tried to balance these twin parental handicaps
by placing them on opposite sides of the raft, each assisted by one able-bodied sister.
Meanwhile I sat in the stern yelling commands and pretending I knew what the hell I was
doing.
Strike Three: Our Load. For a five-day outing we had packed enough baggage, food and
sundries to outfit an Everest expedition. All this paraphernalia was piled amidships in a
mountainous heap, making our overburdened raft sag like a swaybacked pack horse.
Three Strikes and we were out. Way out. Custer's point-spread with the Sioux looked
better than our odds against the rampaging Dolores. Yet in a surfeit of bad luck, we faced
...
Strike Four: Snaggletooth. Meanest rapid on the run. Normally a challenging Class IV,
Snaggletooth was now a raging Class V gauntlet of towering waves and churning holes.
Even my inexperienced eyes could plainly see that any attempt to run Snaggletooth in
our overloaded ark would be promptly and unequivocally fatal. So we portaged--an
experience only marginally preferable to drowning. For half a day we groaned and
sweated like recruits at some malicious fat farm, struggling to lug our immense pile of
gear around the rapid and then laboriously relash it to the raft.
I was just finishing retying the load when a guide from a commercial raft trip paused in his
scouting of Snaggletooth and sauntered over with disturbing news: Snaggletooth was
only the first hurdle. Directly downstream lay Cannonball Wall, a series of violent waves
and fearsome holes plunging straight into a menacingly undercut rock wall. Anything that
got sucked into the undercut would be pinned helplessly by savage currents, squashed to
jelly by tons of water pressure.
Prudence clearly dictated a second portage around The Wall. But the portage around
Snaggletooth had cost us the better part of a day and exhausted my family's waning
reserves of strength and patience. So, turning a deaf ear to my better judgement, I
committed my own flesh and blood to a watery doom.
We shoved off. The guide had cautioned me to skirt the initial holes and waves so that
our boat would not swamp with water--because a swamped raft, he confided with a
nervous snicker, wouldn't stand a snowball's chance in hell.
It took us precisely three seconds to swamp to the brim. We slammed into the first wave
broadside, and from then on we were history, careening downriver sideways, our world
flashing wildly from murky darkness to blinding sunlight as we were alternately smothered
by tons of falling water, then lofted to the peaks of massive waves. Each time I tried to
shout a command the Dolores rammed a quart of foamy brown snowmelt into my mouth.
I felt like some team of sadistic nurses was giving me ice-cold enemas in every
conceivable orifice at once. And all the while the river kept sucking us relentlessly to the
right, straight into The Wall.
All efforts to escape our fate were in vain. My father, awash in an internal flood of
adrenaline became a paddling fiend, his blade a blur as he lashed the water in a spasm
of short, jerky strokes. But it was sound and fury signifying nothing, for though he huffed
and puffed like a crazed steam engine, his paddle barely touched the water and he
merely whipped the top couple of inches to froth. My sisters fought a gallant but losing
battle against the Dolores. And my mother, paddling in the bow, did what she usually did:
stopped paddling altogether and turned to face the rest of us, smiling reminiscently as
though she had just been reminded of a story.
Suddenly, like an elephant at full gallop, we hit The Wall. Instead of being pinned against
the undercut we were dragged along beneath it, trapped between a rushing sheet of
roaring brown water and an angled roof of jagged red sandstone. The pocket of air in
between rapidly narrowed as our raft slid deeper into the dark, wedge-shaped slot. The
right bow--my mother's corner of the boat--was taking the worst of it, being stuffed like a
sock into that crack of doom. Razor-sharp sandstone teeth tore at us from above,
shearing gear off the top of the load. Our rapidly dwindling mountain of baggage was now
the only thing keeping some clearance between the rocks and the river, the only thing
standing between my mother and a watery grave.
It was a ghastly sight, almost as horrible as the image of Mom in her nightie at the front of
the school bus. I was just beginning to ponder the karmic connection when, in a giant
version of the Heimlich maneuver, the full force of the Dolores River in spring flood
blasted us out the downstream end of the crack like a mangled piece of sirloin. In a flash
of blessed sunshine we burst free! But lo, we had been changed mightily: our raft, so
recently the picture of family fun, now emerged from Cannonball Wall as the Ghost Ship
of the Dolores, trailing shards of gear and streamers of frayed rope.
And that's the truth. It really was an accident. No matter what Herr Doktor Freud might
say. Why would I try to drown my own mother? Just because she scarred me for life by
parading around in front of my sixth-grade class in her nightgown? Listen buddy,
sometimes a cigar is just a cigar: I may be neurotic, but I'm not crazy.
Snaggletooth - A Portage Too Far, Bill Cross.
There's a small, ragged band of local boaters that know this canyon and the
river that runs through it. They're mostly an eclectic bunch of pirates, and if
they talk to you at all, they'll tell you stories, they'll exaggerate. They'll tell
you lies.
The San Francisco River remains an outlaw kind of place--elusive, forgotten, forever on
the frontier. The 'Olde English' cartographers, when they exhausted their charts of the
known world, simply scrawled 'Heare There Be Dragons' to fill the empty space. This is
what they meant.
Born of snowmelt in the Mogollon rim country of Eastern Arizona, the San Francisco flees
headlong into New Mexico for more than 90 miles, before whimsically stealing back
across the line to ambush the Gila River in its reluctant odyssey to Pacific waters. The
'Frisco and its sometimes runnable tributary, the Blue, are not near any settlement of
size. Straddling two states, the area is administered by two different National Forests.
One side of the forest is sanctioned Wilderness. The other is designated 'Primitive'--the
last such legislative compromise in the continental United States. All this makes it perfect
for paddling.
In 1536, Spain's Cabeza de Vaca and three broken companions limped out of this area to
proclaim that untold riches lay just beyond the proverbial rainbow. His eight years of
wandering, and many abandoned dead, enhanced the exotic fantasy. The veiled promise
of the 'Seven Cities of Cibola' became fixed in people's imagination. Other expeditions,
including that of Francisco Vasquez de Coronado, staggered up and down the San
Francisco River corridor to embrace an uncertain destiny.
Slightly less than 300 years later, James Ohio Pattie, a fur trapper, was perhaps the next
non-native to sojourn hereabouts. Pattie stalked beaver, playing hard at that game until
the fur market crashed. Many of the region's contemporary landmarks--Angel's Roost,
Hell Hole, Do Nothing Canyon--are owed to his legacy. Stockmen enjoyed a halcyon
decade in the 1880s and built some sizeable herds. But rainfall in this region is a
crapshoot, and the boom didn't last.
Today, everyone is gone once again. Human habitation is limited to a few heartbreak
ranches on the fringes of the wilderness. Along the river, the stone ruins and fanciful art
of the archaic Mogollon people ignite curiosity, but confide no more to us than they did to
the legions of Coronado. Paddlers taking to the San Francisco can't help but become
absorbed in the region's history.
But they also have to pay attention to the river. The current here is quick. Negotiating the
many tortured bends and braids in the river channel is a full-time occupation. Rapids are
frequent. The canyon walls seek to enmesh, enfold, obstruct; and then, the wildly
dissected ramparts ebb unexpectedly, revealing grandly cobbled boulevards like the Mule
Creek Box and the confluence with the Blue. It also is a place of contrast. The thirsty
watershed can transform the San Francisco from a whispering trickle to a psychotic flood
of 15,000 cfs in mere hours, sculpting creative routes, rearranging rocks and rapids.
Twisted logjams of century-old cottonwoods that demand a careful portage, disappear in
a heartbeat--only to be replaced by some future storm. Gila conglomerate rock, a
volcanic stew, rubs shoulders with limestone and sandstone, with more resistant granite
and basalt. The formula results in highly stylized 'hoodoo' spires. Everything is vertical,
jutting, naked. Once-molten trysts are rudely exposed.
A three- to five-day run down the 60-mile, uninterrupted middle-reach of the San
Francisco has hosted weddings, anniversaries and informal retreats of our tribe. These
events are sometimes graced with the vibrant new-green of early spring, sometimes they
are garnished with new snow. A favorite lay-over on a broad, grassy bench, is dominated
by a single somber cliffdwelling. Holes that once contained supporting roof timbers, watch
over camp with the vacant stare of a pair of empty eye sockets. Curious Bighorn
approach warily. There's a huge, grandfather tree that serves as night-roost for a flock of
resident turkeys. Sequentially, they catapult from the surrounding cliffs to flutter jarringly
into the uppermost branches, with all the panache of a score of discarded sack-lunches.
Tonight, at moonrise, I strain to hear the far away, yapping chorus of wiley coyote. The
melodic competition is soon to have a new player, for this river ecosystem and the
surrounding Apache and Gila National Forests are the chosen release site for U.S. Fish
and Wildlife's Mexican wolf reintroduction. The ambitious project calls for an eventual
density of 120 experimental animals dispersed over a 6,000-square-mile habitat.
It seems the bureaucrats have gotten something right this time. That first low, protracted
howling will be a watershed moment, synonymous with wilderness, enriching the San
Francisco River basin for all of us who care to listen. It is the very reason that modern
man goes back to the woods, builds a campfire and watches the night sky.
San Francisco Facts
The put-in for the wilderness run is just above the locked gate on USFS Road 519, a mile
south of the farming community of Pleasanton, N.M. Takeouts can be at any of several
beaches adjacent to the river road (USFS 212), upstream of Clifton, Ariz., or at the
Highway 191 bridge. The river has two main sections. The 53-mile San Francisco Hot
Springs to Clifton section is Class III and drops 21 feet per mile. From Clifton to Bonita
Creek of the Gila River is 25 miles of Class II paddling. Recommended flow levels are
300-2,000 cfs, with a minimum flow of 600 cfs for rafts (for Hot Springs flow information,
call USGS in Albuquerque at (505) 262-5388; for flow levels at Clifton, call USGA in
Tucson at (602) 670-6671 and ask for gauge # 09444500). The river is usually runnable
during a brief snowmelt period in March and April, or after a long rain. No permits are
required. Info.: Western Whitewater by Jim Cassady, Bill Cross and Fryar Calhoun, North
Fork Press, P.O. Box 3580, Berkeley, CA 94703-0580; (510) 540-0800.
With only 900 or more canoe models to choose from--and with each manufacturer having
its own classification system--what could be easier than picking out a canoe? And don't
forget that canoes can be made from cedar strips, wood and canvas, aluminum,
fiberglass, Kevlar, carbon fiber, polyethylene and Royalex. It's no wonder so many
people end up buying the wrong canoe--which means enjoyment and safety are
compromised. Following is a way to choose the appropriate craft for your intended use.
Starting the Decision Making Process
Ask yourself how you will use your canoe. This will make your final decision easy
because shape, size, and construction all suit different performance requirements.
Answer the following: Do I want to lake paddle, river paddle or both? Will I paddle solo,
tandem or triple? Do I want to do extended journeys? Will I be portaging, and how heavy
a boat can I carry? How much maintenance am I willing to perform? Is my primary
interest whitewater playboating and rodeo paddling? Will I use my canoe mainly for
fishing or hunting? Do I want a canoe for casual use around the cottage?
You should now be able to place yourself in one of the following categories: Lake Touring
(Examples: Old Town Camper, Navarro Sundancer, and Mad River Malecite); Flatwater
Sport--wildlife viewing, fishing and hunting (Examples: Old Town Discovery Sport canoes
and Katahdin 16, Mad River Missisquoi, Navarro 16' & 14' Otter); Expedition Paddles
(Examples: We-no-nah Itasca 19'0, Old Town169, Appalachian, Tripper and Penobscot,
Dagger Venture 17, Mad River Revelation); Whitewater Touring (Examples: Dagger
Dimension and Legend 16', Mad River Synergy, Old Town Appalachian); Whitewater
playboating and rodeo (Examples: Mad River Outrage & Rampage, Dagger Ovation,
Rival, Caption and Quake; Mohawk Probe 10 and 12).
Once you know the category of the canoe you want, it is simply a matter of knowing how
to recognize what length, width, shape and construction your hull should be.
Construction
Expedition and whitewater canoes must be strong to withstand the rigors of river
environments, whereas lake touring and sport canoes must be strong enough to carry the
desired load but light enough to be portaged. A nice combination of materials for touring
and sport canoes is a hull made from Kevlar with wood gunwales, thwarts and seats to
keep it light. Expedition and whitewater canoes are best made from Royalex,
polyethylene, or Kevlar--with vinyl-clad aluminum gunwales to ensure they can take
abuse.
Shape
The flatter the bottom, the more primary stability (steady when flat) the canoe has, but
you give up hull speed. The more rounded the bottom, the less initial stability, but the
swifter the hull. Flat-bottomed hulls are used in sport and cottage-type canoe hulls
because their stability makes them good for fishing or for novice paddlers. A moderately
rounded bottom is more maneuverable and capable of better speed; it is used in touring
and expedition canoe hulls. Lake canoes should have a keel or v-bottom to help the
canoe track; and river canoes should not have a keel, for maneuverability.
Tumblehome (the width between the gunwales is less than the overall width of the canoe)
allows the canoe to be paddled without giving up hull displacement--which determines
weight carrying capacity (burden). The greater the displacement the greater the carrying
capacity. Tumblehome is often achieved in whitewater playboats by using a gunwale tuck
(a method of molding materials like Royalex to create tumblehome). Secondary stability
(the canoe gains stability as it is heeled over) is created by flaring the sides of the
midsections. This allows the paddler to heel the canoe over to carve turns--an important
hull shape for whitewater boats. Tumblehome is also found in some recreational hulls.
Rocker is the amount the hull curves from bow to stern. Rocker slows hull speed
decreases the accommodation of large payloads. Lake and touring canoes should have
conservative amounts of rocker to increase hull speed. It is not critical for river hulls to be
fast but it is important that they have rocker for maneuverability (5-6" is good for a 16-foot
whitewater canoe). Touring and expedition canoes should have some rocker as well (2"
is good for a 16- or 17-foot canoe).
When choosing a touring, expedition or sport canoe that will be paddled tandem and
solo, the hull should be symmetrical (the shape of the canoe is identical fore and aft) and
the bow seat located twice as far from one end of the canoe than the stern seat. When
paddling solo, sit in the bow seat facing the stern, which gives the best mechanical
advantage for strokes and trim (canoes should have the bow running slightly higher than
the rest of the hull). The bow is what cleaves the water, so it is important that the shape
suits the use.
Whitewater boats need high volume bows and sterns for buoyancy-- assuring their ability
to go over large waves and giving the canoe more buoyancy over shorter lengths. More
rounded ends in whitewater playboats make it easier to change direction in upstream
maneuvers as well. Touring and expedition canoe hulls need to take lake waves (and
moderate whitewater) and still have good hull speed. This is achieved by shaping the
bow and stern with a slight flare to direct water away. The bow and stern should have low
enough volume, however, to cleave waves easily.
Size and Carrying Capacity
Length and beam (the widest portion of the canoe at the mid section) will determine
weight, carrying capacity, maneuverability, speed and the number of people that can
paddle the canoe. The amount of freeboard (the amount of the hull that sits above the
water line) is greater with longer, wider and deeper hulls-increasing carrying capacity.
Know the carrying capacity of your hull. Will it meet the load requirements for the
intended use and still maintain its performance?
Depth also determines a canoe's ability to carry a load. Touring canoes (usually about 16
feet) are often 13.5 inches deep, while 17-foot expedition canoes are often 15 inches
deep. Whitewater playboats (11-feet or so) are also about 15 inches deep. When loading
rockered playboats and river runners, maneuverability is more quickly lost. Flat-bottomed
canoe hulls are least affected by loading, as they remain stable and slow.
The canoe's width and its effect on speed is related to length. Beam can be greater with
longer boats and not adversely affect speed. Touring and expedition canoes need to
maintain length-to-beam ratios so as not to compromise speed or load-carrying capacity.
Sport boats tend to be wider to create stability and increase payload. A good ratio
between beam and length for a touring canoe is 16 feet long with a 33-inch beam. A good
length-to-beam ratio for an expedition canoe is 17 feet long with a 36-inch beam.
Whitewater playboats of 11 feet have beams of about 28 inches.
Seating Configuration
There are three basic seating configurations for canoes. Traditional lake and expedition
canoes have the bow seat set almost twice as far from the bow end as the stern seat is
from the stern end. A 17-foot expedition canoe will have the back edge of the stern seat
about 30 inches from the stern end, and the front edge of the bow seat about 55 inches
from the bow end. This is ideal for longer canoes that are often paddled tandem or three
in a canoe. The bow seat location gives the bow more buoyancy in waves.
Tandem whitewater touring canoes (16- to 14-feet long with four-plus inches of rocker)
are often outfitted with seats placed equidistant from the ends. This provides space in the
midsections for gear and a better paddling position for the bow person. The whitewater
tandem playboat is best outfitted with seats placed in the Gemini position--paddlers sit
equidistant from the bow and stern of the canoe in the midsections of the craft.
Solo whitewater playboats need their pedestal or saddle mounted so that, when the
paddler is sitting in the canoe with his or her accessories stowed in their normal places,
the hull is trimmed with the bow riding 1/2" to 3/4" higher than the stern. Saddle or
pedestal height also is critical (the average seat height is about eight inches).
The Final Tactic
Paddle as many canoes as possible before you purchase. Demo the boats in the same
kind of water you intend to use them in. Try performing the same maneuvers in each hull
to ascertain the responsiveness of each boat. Load the craft and see how it changes
performance. Choose a dealer who is experienced in canoeing so you get professional
input and not guesswork. If you choose the right canoe it will spend more time on the
water and less time under the front porch.
--Douglas Wipper, former director of the National Canoeing Schools of Canada, is the owner and director of the
Steamboat Springs Canoeing School in Steamboat Springs, Colo. He has instructed canoeing for universities and
private camps for more than 30 years.
In many parts of North America moving water is the norm. Whitewater and tranquil ponds
may be hours away, but gently moving current is often right at paddlers' fingertips.
Coastal areas like the Southeast have waterways that remain motionless until a big rain;
as rainwater drains, however, their once docile waters become alive with flow. With no
great rocks to dodge or hydraulics to negotiate, moving water lies in that often-neglected,
in-between world of not quite being one type or another.
Moving Water
It's a black and white world: most canoeists describe themselves as either whitewater or
quietwater paddlers. A lot of fun can be had, however, on water in between these two
extremes--water that is not aerated and dotted with obstructions, or still and featureless.
Moving water, the wayward stepchild of whitewater and pushy cousin of quietwater,
allows paddlers a chance to exercise high-level skills; it can be more forgiving than
whitewater, and more interesting than quietwater.
It's also easier logistically. Equipment is simpler, with most moving water paddlers using
lighter quietwater canoes and paddles: no flotation bags, no reinforced, rock-proof
paddles. Throw bags are optional, as are helmets and river knives. There also are fewer
items to transport from the car down to the river, and shuttles are frequently a
convenience, not a necessity. Many moving water rivers are easily paddled upstream,
yielding more time on the water. Advanced quietwater technique can be put to good use,
with moving water allowing paddlers to still move around in their boat. With no pedestal
or straps locking you in place, a variety of kneeling positions-- high kneel, cross high
kneel or transverse--helps eliminate fatigue and sore muscles.
Unlike whitewater, most moving water is forgiving enough to allow paddlers to play with a
decreased probability of mishap. This gentler character gives time to practice skills at
handling current with little fear of swimming; basic eddy turns, peel-outs and ferries can
be perfected. Moving water encourages experimentation and helps paddlers gain
confidence.
One technique that will help you stay dry on moving water is to heel (lean the boat)
downstream. As in whitewater situations, it's best to heel downstream (down current)
during a turn or a ferry. Most paddlers can get away with a level or slightly
upstream-heeled boat on moving water, but moving water can grab the upstream side of
the canoe.
Helpful Techniques
Combining an appropriate heel with a few static placement turns will make life easier. An
easy first move is called an axle (Photo 1). Use an axle to turn into an onside eddy, a
cross-axle to turn into an offside eddy. Frequently, eddies in moving water are not well
defined; a rock, stump or bend in the river may simply create a gentle back flow that can
provide a restful pause.
Think offside for a cross-axle (Photo 2), which will help get the canoe into an offside
eddy. As with an axle, paddle downstream and head for the top of an offside eddy. As the
bow crosses the eddyline, start the turn with a hard forward stroke or a sweep, heel the
canoe to the offside and plant a cross-turning high brace. Conclude the turn with a cross
bow draw.
Mid-current Turns
Most moving water provides the luxury of mid-current turns, enabling paddlers to turn
back upstream without getting into an eddy. Keeping in mind the need to lean the boat
(not your body) down current, use a post (Photo 3) to complete a mid-current turn to your
onside. A post is similar to an axle: same initiation, static placement and conclusion. It is
different in that the canoe is heeled away from the paddle, to the offside. The post usually
produces a sharper turn than an axle, and it keeps the boat heeled downstream.
To execute a mid-current turn to the offside, use a cross post (Photo 4). The elements of
the move are the same as in the cross axle, just heel the boat away from the paddle
placement toward the onside. Again, the canoe will be leaned downstream. Mid-current
turns paddling upstream are accomplished using axles for onside turns and cross axles
for offside turns.
For faster, more acute mid-current turns, try using a wedge (Photo 5) or cross wedge
(Photo 6). A wedge combines a downstream boat heel with a static placement called a
jam, executed by placing the blade in the water against the side of the canoe at the
onside knee. The leading edge of the blade should be angled in toward the hull about 20
to 30 degrees. The control hand thumb can be pointed forward toward the bow or back
toward the shaft hand shoulder. Use a wedge for a mid-current turn to the offside. Start
the turn by doing a hard forward stroke or a sweep, then slice the paddle into a jam. The
canoe will turn sharply upstream. Complete the turn with another hard forward stroke or
sweep.
--Mark Molina is a two-time North American Freestyle champion, and an American Canoe Association Instructor
Trainer Educator with over 15 years experience teaching open boat technique.
When you fall off of a wave or miss a move through a rapid the frequent culprit is an
inadvertent, barely perceptible wobble. If this wobble is enough to force you to brace
rather than paddle proactively, that alone can cost the move. But even smaller wobbles
can cost a move.
Here's the deal: the hull of a kayak or canoe slows significantly when it bobs front to
back, or rocks side to side. A barely visible wobble or bob, say one-half inch, is like
dragging a coffee cup-sized anchor on each side of the boat. Even small wobbles (side to
side) reduce boat speed. You also should avoid bobbing (an abrupt dip of the bow) and
zig-zag wag.
Instead, strive to find a smooth, gliding sensation, especially in your forward strokes. In
general, this is more efficient than trying to paddle faster. If pulling harder makes you
wobble, you won't necessarily go faster. Learn to disconnect your lower body, so you can
maintain a perfectly steady boat, even during strokes.
Try this drill
Know your enemy! On a flatwater paddle, exaggerate dip and rise, zig zagging wag, and
side to side wobble. Then you'll feel extra smooth and fast when you eliminate these
motions.
Haste makes waste
Be efficient. Use only the strokes needed to get the job done. We all tend to flail when
trying too hard. This increases the chances of misplacing a stroke, or losing the glide in
the hull. That in turn reduces our chances of making any given move. There are times
when our adrenaline will have us wind-milling away. These strokes may be doing very
little to actually move the boat. Stroke in a purposeful manner to accomplish your goal.
The optimum stroke rate is not the fastest stroke rate. Think of riding a bicycle. Too low a
gear and you're pedaling quite rapidly, but you're not going very far or very fast.
Now add Power
Imagine your boat with wheels sitting on a smooth sidewalk. Parking meters line the walk,
alternating sides every three feet. Reach forward by twisting your upright spine and grab
a parking meter. Now fling yourself forward driving your hips forward, translating the
power through to your feet. This is the same transfer of power you want in a kayak. In a
canoe you drive your hips forward, driving your knees forward. There is a lot of power to
be gained by translating this torso power into your legs and boat. However, there is a lot
to be lost if you rock the boat in the process of each stroke.
Try this drill
Start paddling ahead slowly. Then, on one stroke, stop, poised in the wound-up position,
just before the blade touches the water. Did the boat wobble any, or glide smoothly
forward? Follow through with a strong stroke, watching and feeling for a smooth boat.
Repeat on your next stroke watching for zig-zag or bobbing. Continue for a few minutes
until you feel a smooth glide between strokes.
Focusing on glide with a careful catch and application of power will go a long way
towards improving your paddling. You'll miss fewer moves and enjoy longer surfs. And it
all adds up to more fun on the water.
--Author Kent Ford is host and lead instructor for several instructional videos including "Performance Sea Kayaking,"
"Retendo" and "The Kayaker's Edge." These titles are available through whitewater shops and catalogs; or by calling
(800) 259-5805. Find more tips at www.performancevideo.com.
Attendees at last summer's Kipawa River Rally in Quebec got something they might not
have bargained for: a chance to fight to save the festival's river.
Formed at the Kipawa River Lodge during the festivities, Les Amis de la Riviere Kipawa,
one of Quebec's newest river advocacy groups, is taking it upon themselves to save "one
of Eastern Canada's greatest whitewater runs" from a 130 megawatt generating station
that would dry up the drainage. Proposed by Hydro Quebec, the project would use water
that normally flows down the two outlets draining Lake Kipawa: the Kipawa and Gordon
Brook rivers. Dams were built on these two waterways between 1909 and 1911 to control
flooding along the Ottawa River. If Hydro Quebec carries out its plan, it would create a
new outlet from Lake Kipawa by digging a canal to two small lakes, effectively
de-watering the Kipawa. The dam would be located on the Quebec side of Lake
Témiscamingue.
"We have grave concerns for the future of the aquatic ecosystem on the Kipawa River
and for the future of the Kipawa as beautiful and valuable recreational paddling venue,"
says group spokesperson Heather Whiting. "The hydro project would change everything."
The grassroots group has already made itself heard. Last summer it worked with Hydro
Quebec to secure a series of water releases as part of Hydro Quebec's efforts to
determine the impacts its project would have on recreational values. It also sent a survey
to people who have paddled the Kipawa so their thoughts can be brought to the table.
"Our mission is simple," says Whiting. "We want to protect the ecological and recreational
values on the Kipawa by staying at the table with Hydro Quebec and working through
their public consultation process to protect the river. We also want to convince locals that
there are other options for the Kipawa that can provide the region with a more lasting
value than a hydro electric generation station."
Those who have paddled it don’t need convincing. Dropping an average of 30 feet per
mile for 10 miles, the river has 16 named rapids, ranging from Class III-IV, with two short
portages. Depending on runoff, its flow ranges from 750 to 13,000 cfs. It is such a classic
that it has hosted the Kipawa River Rally for 12 years, drawing hundreds of paddlers from
Quebec, Ontario and the eastern U.S. "It is, plain and simple, one of the best, and
perhaps even the best, intermediate whitewater run in Eastern Canada," says Whiting. "It
needs all the help it can get."
--Les Amis de la Riviére Kipawa is a registered non-profit organization based in Témiscaming, Quebec. For more
information, call Daniel Marinier at (819) 627-3230 or (819) 627-9893, or visit www.lakeheadu.ca/∼n . Donations can be
sent to: Les Amis de la Riviere Kipawa, c/o Dan Mariner, 550-B Kipawa Rd., Box 1287, Temiscaming, Quebec, J0Z
3R0 CN.
--edb
Paddlers have plenty of reason to rejoice: during last year's 105th Congress, the
American Canoe Association, Wilderness Society, National Parks and Conservation
Association and other conservation organizations successfully thwarted attacks on
wilderness, parks and public access. But the victory party may be short-lived. Many of the
same issues are expected to reemerge this year during the 106th Congress. At the top of
the list: new roads through wilderness areas; commercial fishing legislation; mining and
oil exploration; public access; regulatory reform; recreation fees; outfitter/concessionaire
legislation; and reauthorization of the Clean Water and Endangered Species acts.
Following is an inside look at a few issues of particular concern to paddlers.
Public Lands
In what the Wilderness Society characterized as "a major step for wilderness and
wildland protection," President Clinton recently introduced his "Land Legacy Initiative," a
plan to invest $1 billion a year in land protection. Clinton’s plan calls for an additional 5
million acres of Wilderness and $150 million in matching grants for land and easements
in parks, greenways, outdoor recreation, wetlands and wildlife habitat. Senator
Murkowski (R-AK), Chairman of the Senate Energy and Resources Committee, and
Senator Landrieu (D-LA) have introduced a bill directing federal revenues from oil drilling
to coastal states and conservation programs, including the Land and Water Conservation
Fund. Representative Young (R-AK), Chairman of the House Committee on Resources,
is expected to sponsor a similar bill in the House. Senate Minority Leader Richard
Gephardt (D-MO) is expected to propose a more environmentally friendly alternative bill.
Expect the final version to be a compromise. The groundwork has been set, establishing
public land funding as a major issue for the 106th Congress.
More attacks on public lands in Alaska also are anticipated. Last year two riders nearly
slipped through allowing roads through sensitive Alaskan habitat; the legislation is
expected to be resubmitted this year. The Izembek road rider would have allowed a road
through Alaska’s Izembek National Wildlife Refuge, ignoring legislation in the 1964
Wilderness Act. The Chugach River road rider would have given Chugach Alaska Corp
permission to build a 25-mile, 250-foot-wide road across the Bering and Copper Rivers.
Mining will also continue to be of concern, with reformation of the 1872 mining law to
protect public lands and waters once again coming to the table (the Ocoee and Cheat
rivers are two examples of waterways affected by mining). Environmental groups have
long advocated for changes in the law, including establishing fair royalties, granting
federal land managers the authority to protect sensitive areas, and ensuring the cleanup
of mine sites. More than 500,000 abandoned mines exist in the U.S., requiring an
estimated $32 to $72 billion in clean-up costs. During the 105th Congress, Clinton
arranged to buy out a mine site on sensitive lands two miles from Yellowstone National
Park to protect the Clarks Fork. Recent public objection to proposed mines on the
Blackfoot River in Montana and the Taku River in Alaska may serve as a catalyst for
further reform efforts.
Expect other regulatory issues to focus on the Forest Service, as many legislators are
unhappy with the Forest Service’s emphasis on watershed protection, fish and wildlife
habitat, and recreation. Murkowski and Young are expected to again lead the charge.
Last year, rather than reauthorize significant environmental legislation like the Clean
Water or Endangered Species Act, Congress amended regulatory procedures, often
hampering efforts to enforce and administer environmental laws as originally intended.
No major Clean Water Act ("CWA") reauthorization legislation was introduced, even
though CWA was last amended in 1987 and authorizations for most of its programs
expired in 1990. Representative McIntosh (R-IN) has introduced a bill to waive civil
penalties for first-time violators of reporting and record keeping requirements.
Recreational Fees
Congress first authorized the recreational fee demonstration program in 1996 on a limited
basis. Agencies are permitted to collect fees for admission or use of sites, facilities, visitor
center, equipment or special services, as long as the fees are based upon cost recovery
or fair market value. Eighty percent of the fees collected remain within the administrative
unit in which the fees are collected. A recent Interior Department study found that most
visitors support the fees, although there is concern that fees exclude the economically
disadvantaged. There is likely to be a move during this Congress to enact permanent
fees on all public lands to increase revenues.
Outfitter/Concessionaire Legislation
Paddlers also should be concerned with the Outfitter Policy Act, sponsored last year by
Craig (R-ID). Although this bill died in the Senate, efforts are underway to re-introduce it,
with some minor changes. Private paddlers and environmental groups argued that last
year's version granted outfitters and concessionaires allocation advantages over private
paddlers; reduced competition; and tied the hands of agency managers in facilitating and
overseeing outfitter operations on public lands. Opponents maintain that legislation is not
necessary and that any changes in regulation can be improved at the agency level.
--Scott Bell
Eco Blurbs
If you plan on paddling in mid-May, stow a trashbag in your boat: the ninth annual
National River Cleanup Week is slated for May 15-22, 1999. "The purpose of National
River Cleanup Week is to demonstrate the importance of clean waterways and to
encourage constituencies to preserve a community’s streams, rivers and lakes," says
David Brown, executive director of America Outdoors (AO) and national coordinator of
the event. National River Cleanup Week is coordinated by AO with the assistance of
American Whitewater, the Professional Paddlesports Association, American Canoe
Association, Trade Association for Paddlesports and the Water Environment Federation.
Last year 34,000 volunteers—including private groups, outfitters, boy scouts,
conservation groups and schools--participated in more than 300 registered cleanups
nationwide, scouring more than 6,850 miles of rivers and shorelines. Since the event’s
inception, nearly 250,000 volunteers have cleaned more than 65,802 miles of waterways.
Groups interested in adding to these numbers should call AO at (423) 558-3595 or visit
www.americaoutdoors.org. A detailed video, "Organizing a Successful River Cleanup,"
($10.95) is also available from AO with all proceeds benefiting National River Cleanup
Week. --ahb
Hog King Ordered To Cut The Crap
U.S. District Court Judge James C. Fox granted the American Canoe Association's
(ACA) motion for a preliminary injunction Dec. 15 ordering the nation's largest hog
producer, Murphy Family Farms of North Carolina, to apply for a federal Clean Water Act
permit. Fox gave Murphy Farms until Jan. 4 to apply to the North Carolina Division of
Water Quality for the permit. The ruling could ultimately require North Carolina to utilize
the Clean Water Act permitting process for the state's other hog farms, many of which
have proven to be detrimental to the state's waterways.
The judge's ruling comes on the heels of a recent Environmental Protection Agency
(EPA) decision to join ACA's suit. In explaining EPA's siding with ACA, Adam Kushner,
senior counsel for the U.S. Department of Justice, says that EPA intervened because the
facts of the case show the failure of the state to follow the law. As for the judge's ruling,
David Bookbinder, Legal Counsel for the ACA, says it could lead to an important
precedent. "Thousands of farms could face tighter scrutiny of illegal waste discharges
under a permitting system similar to that already required of sewage plants, factories and
other facilities that pump wastewater into rivers. The permit will require them to monitor
and make the monitoring results public," says Bookbinder. "This is big."
ACA filed the lawsuit because of illegal discharges of hog waste into Six Runs Creek and
the farm's failure to obtain a National Pollution Discharge Elimination System permit. The
farm in question is a 4,400-sow farm called Magnolia 4, located southeast of Clinton,
N.C., near the Duplin County line. In November 1996 and July 1997, North Carolina State
inspectors discovered sewage spills from the farm's spay fields into Six Runs Creek, a
tributary of the Black River which flows into Cape Fear. --dj
Moose River Ruling Supports Recreational Use Test for Navigability
In a landmark ruling, New York's highest court recently decided that a river's recreational
uses should be a factor in determining if a river is navigable. The court was ruling on a
navigability question involving the South Branch of the Moose River. The case originated
from a trespass case brought by the Adirondack League Club, a private hunting and
fishing club, against the Sierra Club for an excursion on the river in 1991. "This is a great
victory because now we can use recreational travel, the ability to support canoe use, to
establish the navigability of a stream," the Adirondack Mountain Club's Neil Woodworth
told Associated Press. "That was a test that the landowners contended did not exist." The
ruling supported the position taken by the American Canoe Association, American
Whitewater, Appalachian Mountain Club and New York Rivers United in an "Friend of the
Court" Brief filed by the groups in July. The decision also adopts positions taken by the
Sierra Club and Adirondack Mountain Club as defendants in the case.
Paddlers regard this case as a crucial judicial test of the public's right to take canoes and
kayaks onto waterways flowing through private land. The court concluded that because
rivers and streams are now more likely to be used for recreation than commerce, it
makes sense to consider a waterway's ability to carry recreational boaters when
determining navigability. The court also concluded that the "existence of occasional
natural obstructions do not destroy the navigability of a river" and that boaters have a
right to portage around rocks, timber and other obstacles in the waterway. --dj
Proposal Hopes to Open Yellowstone's Rivers
Paddlers used to poaching whitewater in Yellowstone National Park might not have to
pursue clandestine kayak tactics any more. In November, American Whitewater (AW), a
non-profit river conservation based in Silver Spring, Md., submitted a proposal to the Park
Service recommending that Yellowstone National Park open four select river
The recommendation includes the Black Canyon of the Yellowstone (which local Ron
Lodders calls "the premier multi-day whitewater run in any National Park in the U.S."),
and portions of the Gardner, Lamar and Lewis rivers. "Yellowstone has over 400 miles of
incredible rivers which are off-limits to boating," says AW Access Director Jason
Robertson. "This is not consistent with National Park Service policies, which are
designed to promote human-powered recreation such as kayaking and canoeing."
The proposal addresses the rivers' unique values as whitewater resources; the Park's
need to balance use and resource protection; paddling's minimal environmental impacts;
and the ability of Park personnel to manage the resource on a limited basis, with the
ability to open or close additional rivers in the future. "The original ban on river recreation
was inherently flawed because it was implemented to address over-fishing rather than
river voyaging and recreation," says AW Executive Director Rich Bowers. "There are
better tools for managing anglers without banning boater access to Yellowstone's rivers."
--For more information, contact AW at (301) 589-9453 or the ACA at (703) 451-0141.
--Jerry Nolan
Editor's note: In October and November of 1998, two well-known kayakers died paddling Class
V--Doug Gordon on the Tsangpo (see First Descents) and Scott Bristow on the Potomac. As Charlie
Walbridge, former chairman of the American Canoe Association's safety committee, puts it, "There
have been a lot of Class V deaths is the last couple of years. These two most recent ones certainly
reinforce that it's dangerous business." The following is not meant to glamorize or encourage such
exploits. Rather it is meant as a report on what's happening on the cutting edge of the sport. Please
be careful out there.
Like it or not, people are running harder and harder rapids--and there's nothing we, nor
anyone else, can do about it. It's as natural as climbers scaling more difficult peaks and
skiers flocking to steeper slopes. And just like the extreme side of many sports, when the
envelope gets pushed the stakes get raised.
The phenomenon is nothing new--paddlers have one-upped one another ever since John
Wesley Powell first ran the Grand Canyon. But now, with technology and skills at an
all-time high, the ante has been upped. Paddlers are trudging farther upstream to
steeper, more obscure tributaries; they're running conventional Class V at higher flows;
and they are freeing virgin runs of wood to make paddling "somewhat" possible.
Dangerous as these runs may seem, they represent the cutting edge of kayaking. And
because of this, we've decided to bring a few of last year's hair-raising highlights to your
attention. We're by no means condoning or glamorizing them, but we also can't ignore
them. And they'll continue to happen whether we write about them or not. With that in
mind, following are a few examples of paddlers upping the ante in 1998.
"Look, the little white lambs are free again and running across the sea!" --said by Chilean
fishermen when Antarctic storms lash the sea into foam.
Last night a violent storm from Antarctica swept into Fiordo Cahuelmo on the coast of
southern Chile. Now with the dawn, bird songs announce that peace has returned,
enticing me from my warm tent. I gaze upward into the rainforest canopy, inhaling deeply.
Through a luminous corridor where vines and bamboo have been cut away with
machetes, I can see mist swirling across the surface of the fjord. I yearn suddenly to be
out there, beneath the open sky. I carry my foldable kayak to the water's edge and slip
away from the sleeping camp.
The fjord is narrow here in its uppermost reaches, squeezed between lush green
palisades rising steeply on both sides, the westernmost flanks of the Andes. The bow of
my kayak slices cleanly through the thick mist clinging to the water's mirror-like surface.
High above, a waterfall shimmers down in the soft pre-dawn light. The tide is ebbing, and
I can feel the grip of sea-bound current against my boat. Ahead, I make out a maze of
barnacle-encrusted boulders. A sweep of the paddle swings me back on a parallel course
with the rugged shoreline. I move from one eddy to the next, much as I would on a river,
until the rock labyrinth plays out in deeper water. The fjord grows wider and the first rays
of the rising sun stream down to warm me.
I rest my paddle across the cockpit and relax, allowing the current to sweep me towards
the mouth of the fjord. My mind travels back over the series of events that led me here.
Several years ago, reports filtered back to the States about an American named Rick
Klein, a radical young forest advocate who had gone to South America to search for
specimens of the legendary alerce tree. For millenniums these gigantic conifers
flourished in the coastal rainforests of Chile. But in just a few generations, early European
settlers, coveting the alerce's beautiful and durable wood, cut most of the great trees
from their accessible lowland habitat. Klein was intrigued by rumors of cathedral groves
of the ancient trees said to exist in remote Andean valleys. Eventually his quest to find
the lost alerce ignited the interest and support of others, and in the late '70s he emerged
as the founder of a grass roots environmental organization called Ancient Forest
International (AFI).
A series of exploratory expeditions followed. Klein argued that proving the existence of
cathedral groves of ancient alerce would encourage the preservation of their remaining
habitat. Yet he and his followers soon learned a few hard lessons about getting around in
the Bosque Valdiviano, the temperate rainforest sprawling along the Chilean coast south
the 40th parallel. A glance at a topo map reveals why even today the region remains
nearly roadless. Beyond the quaint town of Puerto Montt, southern terminus of the Pan
American Highway, a series of fjords cut deeply into the coastal mountains. The coastline
begins to crumble and form thousands of islands, the beginning of a vast archipelago that
extends all the way to the end of the continent. On an early AFI expedition, someone
brought an old folding kayak which proved invaluable for reaching areas inaccessible by
foot. From then on, Klein encouraged sea and river kayakers to bring their boats to help.
When I met Klein, he was in the midst of planning yet another ambitious eco-expedition
to southern Chile. The possibility of paddling to help save the wilderness proved
irresistible, and I talked two of my long-time kayaking friends, John Weed and Bob
Stender, into joining me. For months, we honed our expedition and paddling skills along
rugged sections of the Pacific Coast from Alaska to Baja. Then on a winter day in
California, we boarded an Aero Peru jet bound for the southern hemisphere.
We reached Puerto Montt in early February, at the peak of the austral summer. The town
had a frontier spirit, like Jack London's Seattle during the Yukon Gold Rush, with a dash
of Gaugin's Tahiti thrown in for good measure. For two days, we gathered provisions and
information. On our final afternoon in town we lingered at the Cafe Central, where pretty,
dark-eyed girls served us steaming cups of te con leche. Mountaineers who had just
returned from climbing Aconcagua and fishermen from the costa del sur fueled our
enthusiasm with stories of the great wilderness surrounding us.
Early the next morning we crowded aboard a local bus bound for La Frontera. The
pristine seacoast and rainforest we passed appeared as our own Pacific Northwest might
have looked a century ago. Periodically the road ended at a deep fjord, where a ferry
eventually arrived to transport us to the other side. Between fjords, the narrow road
wound up and over steep coastal mountains. Guardrails were nonexistent, and when the
spectacle of sheer cliffs dropping away to the sea got too intense, we sought solace in
the plastic saints adorning the dashboard. "Compared to traveling this road, " John said,
"kayaking the coast must be muy tranquilo. "
We disembarked near a fishing camp named Picicolo. On our way down a steep path to
the sea, we passed rows of rustic cabins whose walls were covered with fish and animal
pelts hung up to dry. A group of ruddy-faced pescaderos gathered around an equally
weathered boat on the beach, tamping caulking into its seams. Children swarmed around
us, wearing hats fashioned from sealskin. "This feels like places I've flown into on the
coast of Alaska," said our bush pilot Bob Stender as we assembled our folding kayaks.
The sun had fallen low by the time we spotted an opening in the green coastal mountains
and slipped into Fiordo Cahuelmo, the place of the dolphins. Shadows gathered on the
verdant slopes flanking the vast, water-bound canyon, while the ice-crowned Andes
above turned deeper shades of purple. Silence settled over our group as everyone
soaked in the beauty. Klein had hardly exaggerated when he described Cahuelmo as a
sacred and holy place.
We paddled deeper into the Andes, towards the head of the fjord. A full moon rose over
the mountains by the time we pulled up on grass-covered beach near camp. Dozens of
faces smiled at us from around a roaring fire, and the soulful sound of a Chilean folk song
filled the air. "Bienvenidos, welcome to Cahuelmo!," everyone shouted, and a young
Chilena passed plates of freshly steamed mussels.
After dinner, we hiked the fjord to another long-anticipated treat--Las Termas, the natural
hot springs of Cahuelmo. Here a series of pools had been painstakingly carved into rock
over the years, legacy of a vanished race of nomadic seafolk known as the Chonos. I
sank into a steaming pool and felt the tensions of the long journey begin to melt away. A
few feet away, the flooding tide streamed into the fjord, awash in moonlight. The
Southern Cross shown brightly in an obsidian sky. "Ah, gracias a los Chonos," I sighed.
The next morning we learned that several expedition teams, including one led by Klein,
were off searching in the cordillera for alerce. Already, nearly a hundred folks from 11
different countries and many diverse disciplines had come and gone from our remote
basecamp. Everyone seemed excited to share what they had seen and experienced
since arriving at Cahuelmo. Backpackers and kayakers arrived and departed daily on
exploratory missions; scientists studied the ecosystem; teams foraged for food and
firewood. Ami, part of the Ancient Forest vanguard from Northern California, ran the
kitchen where meals for a hundred hungry expedicionarios were prepared each day over
an open fire. She paused from shouting orders long enough to admit, "Cahuelmo is as
much about self-discovery as it is about alerce discovery, and hopefully I've lost some
ego in the process."
Cameras, notebooks and tape recorders were everywhere, as journalists and filmmakers
attempted to document what was going on. A crowd gathered around a Chilean
ornithologist named Luis when he returned from his nets with a brightly-colored native
bird, which he carefully measured and then released. A biologist produced a "Darwin's
frog," with its distinctive hooked snout, as well as a handful of huge beetles.
Other sea kayaking friends from California arrived. Rich Warren, along with newlyweds
Jim and Linda Sheldon, paddled back from Quintupeu, another fjord a few miles north. Its
narrow entrance made it an ideal hiding place for the beleaguered German battleship
Dresden during its historic attempt to escape from allied forces during WW II. "It was like
paddling into a half-submerged Yosemite Valley," said Rich. "The mountains surrounding
Quintepeu are even higher than here at Cahuelmo, and the waterfalls were awesome.
There was wildlife everywhere, seals and birds, that I've never seen back home. We also
saw a huge sea otter sunning himself on a rock at the head of the fjord."
Charles Darwin, after visiting this coast, promised "indescribable rewards for those who
would persevere through the Chilean rainforest." Yet listening to the backpackers
bemoan the leeches that clung to their ankles, the injuries they received from machetes,
and other agonies of bushwhacking through the trail-less, overgrown rainforest, we felt
fortunate to have come by sea.
Still, one morning we decided to let others use our boats while we joined an exploratory
party heading up into the cordillera. We followed the river to the head of the fjord for
about a kilometer, and then a tributary that rose steeply into the bosque antiguo, the
ancient forest Klein had described with such enthusiasm. We came at last to a waterfall
cascading hundreds of feet over a succession of moss- and vine-covered ledges. Our
Chileno companions informed us that the falls had been named Cascada Libertad de
Mandala by a previous expedition, in honor of the South African leader. Near the base of
the falls, a young girl named Pancha led me to a niche in the cliffs where she had
discovered a tiny nest containing two baby hummingbirds.
One morning with the high tide, an official-looking steel-hulled lancha arrived at the head
of the fjord near our camp. The smartly uniformed Chilean federal police who
disembarked stood in sharp contrast to the expedition members, most of whom by now
had taken on a decidedly rustic appearance. Yet Capitán Felix Vargas, leader of the
carabineros, smiled warmly after learning the purpose of our visit. His gaze swept out
over Fiordo Cahuelmo and then back over the sea of sun- and wind-weathered faces.
Vargas strode up to Klein, who had just returned from the mountains. Extracting a small
vial of gold from his pocket, Vargas presented it to him, explaining he had gathered it
from a nearby river. "Gold has great importance to man," he said. "But this value is
nothing compared to the ecology of our planet."
On our last evening in Cahuelmo, Klein called everyone into a circle around the fire.
Lightning flashing on the horizon added to the feeling of expectation. Alternating between
Spanish and English, Klein spoke about the discoveries his group made in the
mountains. Then a kayaker named Carlos stepped forth and reported that while paddling
south of Cahuelmo, his group spotted a big valley rising up from the sea that could be
prime habitat for 4,000-year-old alerce trees. A resolution was made to organize a
backpacking trip to investigate.
More lightning flashed, closer now. Kiko Andersen, from the Seattle Mountaineering Club,
presented a vivid account of his party climbing an unnamed peak, which they christened
Siempre Salvaje (Forever Wild). A biologist named Miguel then spoke in Spanish, and
Klein translated: "Struggling for three days through the jungle, following a river, we came
to a 1,000-foot waterfall. Two days later, we reached the summit, the roof of the visible
world. Now my body aches all over, but it was well worth it." Pisa, who came from Europe
to participate in the expedition, added, "The climb was like giving birth, it was that difficult.
But then we found this hanging canyon, filled with alerce!" A lean, dark eagle of a man
named Hernan Verscheure, a leader of Chile's environmental movement, moved up to
the fire and chimed in. "At 550 meters above sea level, we accomplished our primary
objective of finding untouched groves of alerce," he said. Then Klein joined the
conversation. "We know that cathedral groves of alerce, possibly the oldest living
creatures on earth, have escaped the onslaught of civilization and are thriving in the
valleys above here," he said. "We have the photographs, the documentation needed to
help secure this magnificent wilderness for future generations."
Lightning exploded directly overhead and raindrops began to fall, hissing as they hit the
fire. Everyone ran for their tents. As always in this wild land, nature had the final word.
--Conservationists are continuing to help secure protection for one of the last relatively
intact, temperate rainforest ecosystems remaining in the world. Exploration of this
little-known wilderness area is crucial to its conservation, and paddlers will continue to
play an important role in future expeditions. For more information, contact: Ancient Forest
International, P.O. Box 1850, Redway, CA 95560, (707) 923-3015; or Fundación Lahuen,
Orrego Luco 054, Providencia, Santiago, Chile, 011- 56-2-251-7506.
--Michael Powers, a photojournalist who engages in eco-expeditions around the world, lives in Northern California with
his Chilean wife, Nani. He and fellow Tsunami Ranger Eric Soares recently finished a book about extreme sea
kayaking, to be published this spring by Ragged Mountain Press.
If you look past their paddling backgrounds, the members of the U.S. Women's
Whitewater Rafting Team seem an odd bunch. One's a sophomore at Cal State, one's a
former crew rower, one's a former member of the military police, one's an avid sailor,
one's a retired cook.
But for Kelley Kalafatich, Sue Norman, Julie Munger, Juliet Wiscombe, Brooke Winger
and team captain Beth Rypins--the best women's rafting team in the world as decided
last September at the Camel World Championships in Costa Rica--their pursuits off the
river are secondary. It's the more than 100 years of paddling experience between them
that sets the stage for their success.
Being the best, however, isn't easy--especially when each team member is used to
calling her own shots. Putting six women accustomed to picking their own lines together
in one boat could easily turn into a cat fight. But if those six unite as one, as is the case
as the U.S. women's team, the results speak for themselves. The team has rallied for two
consecutive world championships, one on Africa's Zambezi in 1997 and the most recent
on Costa Rica's Rio Reventazon.
Their biggest advantage, the team readily admits, is their collective experience and ability
to work as a team. "Everyone has something to contribute," says Rypins. "And what we
lack in brute strength, we make up for with in technique and teamwork." That, says Joffe,
is an understatement. "By winning at both Gore and Costa Rica--and at the Zambezi a
year ago--the U.S. women have showed they are a step above all the other women's
teams," he says. "They even beat a lot of the men's times by simply working as a team."
Still, it hasn't been easy. Ask any one of them what the hardest hurdle to overcome was,
and the answer is learning to work together. "Our biggest problem is figuring out how to
communicate with one another," says Wiscombe, who joined the team in 1997. Although
their individual resumes fill reams of paper, their experiences as team players are
minimal. "The most remarkable thing about this crew," says Norman, who won the
National Slalom Championships in 1982, "is that it is building a team among women who
are used to being leaders. It's one of the most challenging, enjoyable and sometimes
frustrating things I've ever done. But it proves the whole can be greater than its parts."
Some of the team's parts have been together longer than others. The team has existed in
one form or another since 1986 when Rypins and Munger founded a group called All
WET (All Women's Exploratory Team), which quickly claimed first descents on
California's Clavey, South Fork of the Stanislaus, and Upper South Fork of the American
rivers. It also notched a first descent on the Boh River in Borneo. A 1989 version of the
team, the Amazonkis, which included Munger, Kalafatich and Norman, raced in Russia's
Chuya Rally, taking second twice against men's and co-ed teams.
Eight years later, four of the original team members were back at it, and their experience
working together showed. But they weren't guaranteed a berth at the World
Championships until they proved themselves; the team had to first win the National
Championships in Colorado's Class V Gore Canyon. "That was real good training for us,"
says Kalafatich, who spent the first two training days, as well as the ride to Colorado, flat
on her back, which she had injured wind-surfing. The team practiced with only five
members the first two days, and had to quickly adjust from their roles as commercial
guides to team players. "That was the hardest thing we've done as a team," says
Munger, adding that the steep, rocky nature of the river was a far cry from the big water
of Africa's Zambezi the previous year. "It was perhaps the hardest run we had ever raced
together."
Naturally, not everything went according to plan. During training, Rypins swam three
times in two days, which played into her psyche. "I'm not used to getting trashed," she
says. "I'm a Class V guide, and usually not the swimming type. But once we got on the
river and saw it was within our ability, I was able to relax."
Norman echoes the psychological difficulties the team had to overcome. "It was intense,"
she says, adding that sometimes people responded to their fear with anger. "Sometimes
we would snap at one another, but we had to keep that in check." Eventually, the team
relaxed and put together a solid training run the day before the race. During the race,
they came together even more, keeping everyone in the boat and staying strong during
all three disciplines--sprint, slalom and downriver. "That's the way it is with a lot of things,"
says Munger. "You're afraid of it until you understand it. Then you can let go of the fear."
Their teamwork prevailed, and the six ended up beating the other five women's teams
and taking fifth out of the 12 men's teams--a strong enough showing to earn them a trip
to the World Championships a month later in Costa Rica. And people were quick to
applaud their efforts. "People recognize the amount of work we put in," says Norman.
"When we get going, we're like a well-oiled machine. We've elevated ourselves so we
have a unique technique and rhythm."
Costa Rica's Rio Reventazon was another story. The 1998 Camel Whitewater
Challenge's course included complex Class IV-V rapids on the Catie and Peralta sections
of the Reventazon, which was running big and brown from heavy rains.
The U.S. women out-paddled the Slovakia and U.K. women's teams without much
contest, and they did well among the men in the slalom, taking 11th out of 18 ("We were
psyched about that, but our goal was the top 10," says Rypins). The sprint was based on
teams' finishes in the slalom, and the U.S. women started against three-time World
Champions Slovenia. "We had no delusions about beating them," says Rypins, "We were
psyched just to be starting with them."
The start for the downriver race was based on teams' standings overall. Racing in the
third of four heats, the U.S. women got off line in the section's biggest rapid when three
rafts ahead of them stalled out and forced them to change course. "We went into a
monster hole that should have flipped us," says Kalafatich, adding that it washed Rypins
and Wiscombe into the river. At day's end, the U.S. women finished 15th overall in the
downriver race, beating one men's team.
In both the national and world championships, the U.S. women made good on their
three-pronged goal: to spread the word about rafting as team sport; to inspire fellow
women competitors; and to set a charge under the quickly growing sport. But their job is
far from over. "There are a lot of places where raft racing is way ahead of us," says Glenn
Lewman, owner of Grants Pass, Ore.'s Whitewater Manufacturing, which sponsors the
national and world championships. "It's new in America. The sport needs a shot in the
arm to enlighten folks about how fun it is, and the women's team is doing just that."
It was Lewman, a member of the board of directors for the International Rafting
Federation, who petitioned to include women's events as part of the world
championships. And he doesn't want to stop there. In 1998, organizers paid all the U.S.
women's expenses except airfare; this year, he'd like to have them fully sponsored when
the world championships head to Uganda's Nile.
Members of the U.S. women's team, naturally, would like that as well. And they realize
they have something to give prospective sponsors. "We're a great marketing tool
because of the increase in
popularity of women's sports," says Rypins. "That, combined with whitewater's growth,
makes us a very visual vehicle for anyone who wants to use us as a billboard."
The Team
Beth Rypins, 35
Julie Munger, 36
"I like to know what can go wrong, plan for it, and deal with it," says Julie
Munger, who has worked as a commercial guide since she was 18.
"There's no fear once we push off from shore."
Munger was on the All WET team in 1986, and has guided in Russia, Nepal
and Tibet. She teaches swiftwater rescue for Rescue 3, is a trip leader and
guide on the Tatshenshini and Alsek rivers for Alaska Discovery
Expeditions, and guides in the Grand Canyon for Arizona Raft Adventures
(AZRA).
This experience has landed her in the guide seat position for the team. "But
it's a team effort," she says. "I'm really just watching everyone." The team's
four-point system, she adds, is key to their success. They use front and
back positions, not merely one power point in the back. "That way, we
make sure everyone's head is into it," she says. She's also the team
cheerleader, making sure they're where they need to be in the river. If
they're not, she'll bark out a command even though everyone already
knows what the raft needs to do. "It really is magic when you have six
people paddling toward the same goal," she says. "It's an example of how
to work with something instead of controlling or overcoming it."
Kelley Kalafatich, 37
Sue Norman, 41
Sue Norman learned to kayak 28 years ago in Kernville, Calif., from Tom
Johnson. At 17, she began slalom racing, but went into the army on her
18th birthday to help pay for college. "I had hoped to train and race," she
says. Instead, she was sent to Germany where she worked with the military
police. She also taught kayaking for the Armed Forces' recreation center.
After a three-year stint in the army, she taught kayaking in Colorado and
reconnected with Cathy Hearn and John Lugbill, with whom she had
competed earlier in life. She also saw "Fast and Clean," a video focusing on
Lugbill and Hearn at the 1979 World Championships. "It was about those
kids in D.C. who had worked really hard," she says, "and I had a flash that it
could have been me. I said to myself: 'I wonder if I can do this. If so, I need
to do it now.'" She went to D.C. and trained, and won the qualifying race for
the World Championship slalom team. "My whole life turned around," she
says. "I borrowed money from my dad, and went to Wales that year." She
competed through 1986, winning the U.S. Nationals in '82.
For the Amazonkis, she was the kayaker, competing in downriver and
rodeo events. "But we have Brooke do all that now because she's young
and tireless," she says. Her role on the U.S. women's team was cemented
in 1990 at the Project RAFT Championships on the Nantahala when their
team, including Munger, Kalafatich and Arlene Burns, took second. "It
happened when another woman and I discussed how to apply wildwater
and slalom to raft racing," she says, adding that it introduced her to the
team dynamic. "It's a neat feeling to do well in a team."
Juliet Wiscombe, 25
Brooke Winger, 21
"I learned a lot from the team," says Brooke Winger, a Cal State/Long
Beach sophomore who is the number one ranked woman on the U.S.
whitewater rodeo tour." It's weird being the youngest and the newbie, but
this year is much better." Sponsored by Wave Sport since last spring,
Winger learned to kayak with her brother Ethan on the American River with
Tom Long's kids club. She started rafting in the spring of '97. "For me, it's
not only unity with water, it's unity with the whole team," she says. "We're
out there for a single goal. We learn from each other, and we learn from the
water. That's something very few sports let you do." And, she concludes,
"We all agree there's nothing better than being on the water all day."
--Next year's Camel International Whitewater Challenge will take place in Uganda on the White Nile in July, while the
2000 event will be on the Futaleufu next February. The 1999 rafting series will have three selection races (Ocoee
River, Tenn., April 10-11; Kern River, Calif., April 24-25; and Clear Creek, Colo., June 4-6) and a National
Championship on Colorado's Gore Canyon Aug. 21-22. Selections for the Uganda event will take place on the Kern,
while the Gore Championship will determine who goes to Chile.
The Hydro-Bronc
Whitewater on a Gerbil Wheel
Philip Chauvet and Rod Blair, owners of Virtual Sports Inc., don't necessarily have an
affinity for gerbils. But you wouldn't know it by looking at their latest product, the
Hydro-Bronc.
Letting participants walk on water like gerbils running in a wheel, the Hydro-Bronc is a
geodesic dome of seven inflatable pontoons that has found a home on everything from
Class V whitewater to the flats. And sales are spinning as fast as its users. After one
recent article on the invention, Chauvet fielded more than 700 phone calls at his Salem,
Ore., office from people wanting to try it out. "The public is sold on the idea," he says,
adding that more than 100 units are circulating in waters worldwide. "There's tremendous
interest in the thing." The media also has picked up on the new-fangled contraption, with
stories appearing in Focus, Outside, People, Popular Mechanics and Men's Health
magazines, as well as NBC's Extra and the Fox Network's Action TV. "We've been
inundated with interest," adds Chauvet. "For some reason, it's taken off media-wise."
That reason could well lie in its oddity. At nine feet in diameter and capable of floating
500 pounds, the unit sticks out like, well, a gerbil wheel on water. And it has drawn stares
from San Francisco Bay, where someone used it to walk from Alcatraz to the mainland,
to California's American River where an inspiring soul used it to run Class V Tunnel
Chute. This past December a group even used it to tackle the Batoka Gorge on Africa's
Zambezi River.
Learning the ropes is easy--if you can walk, you can Hydro-Bronc. Users stand on a
mesh, trampoline track and grab onto swivel handles located on each axis. Then they
simply walk or run wherever they want to go, shifting their body weight to steer.
Whitewater walkers are harnessed in with a quick-release buckle, and by design the unit
can't tip over. "You put all that together and weigh it against a kayak or raft, and it's
safer," maintains Chauvet. "It has gone in holes rafts won't go in and has done fine."
Its novelty is one reason the Hydro-Bronc appeals to outfitters. Jason Wingert, owner of
Edgewater, B.C.'s Water's Edge Ventures Inc., recently purchased 20 of the water
walkers and plans to run them five at a time commercially this spring. "I think they're
going to do great," he says. "Every time I've seen them people have been climbing all
over them." Other outfitters aren't so sure. "They're very physically demanding," says
Tom Moore of Kernville, Calif.'s Sierra South. "It's an aerobic nightmare. And I don't think
we have the right river for them. But in the right place, and on a less-technical river, they
would be pretty fun."
Chauvet maintains that he and Blair, a computer-aided design teacher who came up with
the idea in 1991 and put it on the market in late 1996, are not trying to take away from
conventional river trips, but rather add to the sport by creating a new ride. "It's creating a
new niche that will bring new blood and money into the industry," Chauvet maintains. And
the money isn't gerbil food. The unit carries a suggested retail price of $1,999, with
add-on options running another $440.
--For more information, contact Virtual Sports, 6644 Rippling Brook Dr. SE, Salem, OR 97301, (503) 363-0013,
www.virtualsportsinc.com.--edb
Calendar
March
6-7 Mulberry Fork Canoe & Kayak Race/Dixie Division Open Boat
Championships, Garden City, AL (205) 982-4946
12-14 14th Annual Santa Cruz Kayak Surf Festival and U.S. National Wave Ski
Championships, Santa Cruz, CA (408) 425-4886
13-14 ACA Red River Division Canoe Poling Championships, Martindale, TX (409)
693-3249
April
12-14 14th Annual Santa Cruz Kayak Surf Festival and U.S. National Wave Ski
Championships, Santa Cruz, CA (408) 425-4886
16-18 35th Annual Kern River Festival/Wildwater Team Trials, Kernville, CA (805)
871-6790
17-18 Georgia Canoeing Assoc. 31st Annual Southeastern U.S. Slalom &
Wildwater Championships, Wesser, NC (404) 351-8208
24 1999 Nanticoke River Canoe & Kayak Classic, Mardela, MD (410) 543-1244
24-25 South Yuba Gathering, Chuck's Race and Peddle-Paddle, Nevada City, CA
(530) 265-9653
25 Run of the Charles Canoe & Kayak Race, Boston, MA (978) 532-5131
If this year's Gauley River Festival in Summersville, W.V., was any indication, whitewater
and Woodstock have more in common than previously thought. Although it only
headlined one band (The Barefeet and Co.), last fall's 13th annual festival--representing
the largest concentration of whitewater boaters in the country excluding the
Olympics--saw more than 4,500 people converge on a vacant field in Nicholas County for
a weekend of boating and debauchery unparalleled in paddlesports. "This one was
definitely the biggest one yet," says Phyllis Horowitz, who organized the event as a
conservation fund-raiser for American Whitewater. "It was pretty much a whirlwind
weekend." Attendee Skip Brown, who drove down from Washington, D.C., goes one step
farther, calling it "by far the largest gathering of boaters in one spot that I've ever seen."
Horowitz attributes the festival's success to two things. One was the weather. "I think the
attendance was due in part to Mother Nature cooperating," she says. "This was the best
weather we've had for it yet." She also notes that the Army Corps of Engineers didn't
announce additional Gauley water release information until the following Tuesday,
causing many paddlers to think it was their last chance to paddle the river for the year.
As happens when any sizeable group of boaters gets together, there did develop a need
for some control. But even though some attendees complained of roadblock checkpoints
and liberal car-towing practices, local law enforcement officials were happy with the
boaters' behavior. "There were a lot of people there this year," says Nicholas County
Deputy Sheriff Bob Hennessey. "And naturally the parking got pretty limited so we had to
tow a few. But I've worked this festival every year and we couldn't ask for anything
better--these are the friendliest people you could have to stage such an event. It wouldn't
bother me if they held it 52 weeks a year."
It wouldn't bother American Whitewater either. With fees from attendees and more than
70 exhibitors, this year's event raised a record $55,000 for the organization's
conservation efforts. And as well as raising record funds for a worthwhile cause, it had
one other thing going for it that its counterpart in the '60s didn't. "This year was a boater's
Woodstock without the mud," says Horowitz.
--This year's Gauley Fest will be held Sept. 25-26, 1999. For more information, contact American Whitewater at (704)
645-5299.
How long do you think it would take you to build a canoe? At Philadelphia's Six-Hour
Canoe Challenge last September, various teams attempted to do so in under six hours by
fitting, glueing, planing, screwing, sanding, sawing and sealing marine-grade fir into
finished canoes. The exercise in boat building was the marquee event of a fundraiser
benefiting the Philadelphia Wooden Boat Factory, a non-profit organization teaching
sailing and boat-building to at-risk youths.
The winner was the first to finish--and paddle--a 15-foot, flat-bottom canoe using only
materials supplied: instructions, wood, glue, screws, power driver, handsaw, sawhorses,
plane, tape measure, putty knife, sealant, sandpaper, bevel, drill bit and caulk gun. "The
inspiration for the event was a book called Building the Six-Hour Canoe, written by
Richard Butz," says Geoff McKonly, who co-founded the Wooden Boat Factory in 1996.
"The kids in our program have to measure and cut the wood themselves, but to save time
in the competition we decided to give competitors pre-cut wood."
At the 11 a.m. start, the team to beat appeared to be the one representing Burlington
County, N.J.'s 4-H Plane and Simple Boat Building Club, whose 28 members had already
built 15 canoes. Consisting of four teenagers and captained by Wendy Byar, the 4-H
squad was the event's youngest team, but clearly one of the most experienced. By 1:50
p.m., however, the front-running 4-Hers had been passed by Philadelphia's PNC Private
Bank team, which finished its boat-building project in just under three hours. What
happened to the 4-Hers? Since each team had already made a charitable contribution to
the Factory in order to participate, some of its members scattered before their entry was
finished in order to help the shorthanded. But they didn't seem to mind coming in second.
The contest was more about a good cause than serious rivalry, and having fun building
was more important than the results.
--Linda Riggins
Stone-age Rafting
By Ann Vileisis
Tim and I are old-school boaters. We pump up our raft by hand, bolt together four planks
to make a wooden frame, and then tie it on with a motley assemblage of webbing and
rope. An old piece of luggage carries our pots, and we still use leaky black bags lined
with plastic to store food.
Each time we rig the raft for a trip, our humble outfit seems more and more archaic in
comparison to other rafts at the put in. This time, our boat is laden with gear for a 40-day
adventure-a 470-mile trip through the Green River in Colorado and Utah. Just upstream,
a group of more-modern boaters rigs a fleet of blue rafts gleaming under aluminum
frames, pumpkin-orange dry bags, and a suite of metal boxes and calf-sized coolers. I
have forgotten how primitive our little gray raft looks with its shoestring-tied-on bail bucket
until I see these elegant self-bailers bobbing next to us. As I crank down on a rope to tie
off a trucker's hitch, I hear the other boaters chuckle at our set up.
"Hey, don't you guys even have a cam-strap?" one good-natured, beer-bellied fellow
finally asks as he pulls at a scraggly graying beard sprouting from his chin. I smile and
point to the only cam strap we own, an orange one-found half-buried on a beach-that now
belts our tiny cooler shut. "Is THAT the only cooler you have?" he asks. "If you don't mind
me asking, what are you going to EAT?" He belly laughs.
"Lots of catfish and sand," I jest back. After his chortling subsides, I explain that we've
brought simple but hearty fare.
"Well, that's cool," he concedes as he pulls a beer from his drag bag, pops it open, and
then lifts the can in a mock toast. "Me, I like my creature comforts!" He howls
uproariously with infectious good humor that prompts us to join in his laughter.
After we push off and wave good-bye, our modest outfit once again grows in my
estimation, unimpeded by comparison to other craft. From my banana-yellow, Prijon
T-Slalom kayak, just as archaic as our raft, I watch how easily our stone-age raft
responds to Tim's masterful oar strokes, moving deftly through the first rapids below
Flaming Gorge Dam. We pass through Red Canyon, Swallow Canyon, 40 miles of
meanders to the crimson walls of Lodore Canyon, then through Whirlpool Canyon and
Split Mountain Gorge, where we shoot out into a hundred-mile, flatwater reach.
There's nothing like flatwater for inspiration. While whitewater engages a boater in the
present moment with the need for quick moves, rowing flatwater-several long, windy days
of flatwater-provokes thought. It starts the mind wandering. No matter how burley and
strong you are, no matter how your pectorals bulge, after several days of rowing into
wind, you begin to daydream about how it might be easier. If only you could set up
bicycle pedals hitched to a propeller or jerry-rig a sail to tack directly into the wind. Maybe
using the bail bucket as a sea anchor would help. Flatwater is the mother of all invention.
This morning, a long stretch of flatwater compels Tim to scheme up a new idea. "Do you
see any rocks on that cobble bar about six inches long and two inches in diameter?" he
calls over to me. I could tell he'd concocted a plan by the precision of his request and the
crinkled lines on his forehead.
I paddle my kayak over to the bar, hop out and manage to find two red stones of similar
weight and shape. I rinse off the silt and stonefly carapaces, place the rocks on my spray
skirt and ferry them downstream to the raft. As I hand the cobbles up to Tim, I ask, "What
are they for?"
"You'll see," he says with the smile of a kid who can barely wait to tell a secret.
I watch as he sets blade angles, suspends the rocks with parachute cord on the
underside of the blue oar shafts-just beside the handles, and then duct tapes the hell out
of them. "Look Annie," Tim exclaims. "Counter-balanced oars!"
Because oarlocks support oars one-third of the way down the shaft, two thirds of the oar
and its blade hang heavily beyond the raft. While this imbalance gives a rower good
leverage, holding up the oar on every return stroke can also tire a rower out. Offsetting
the weight of the blade with a counterbalance near the oar's handle makes rowing easier.
Tim's idea isn't entirely original. Years before at a boating shop, we'd drooled at the
pricey, counter-balanced oars Sawyer sells. Tim had decided that someday, when he
reached geezerhood, he'd indulge and buy them. But after four pensive days of flatwater
rowing in the middle of nowhere, he had to have them NOW.
To try out the oars, Tim turns the boat and pulls downstream. After three vigorous pulls,
he's flying. "I can't believe how much easier this is!" he shouts with the delight of a
crackpot inventor. "Why didn't I do this twenty years ago?"
I now have to paddle my kayak harder to keep up with the raft. "You see," he explains as
he pulls, "twenty percent of the effort of rowing is the return stroke-moving the oars back
into position to pull again-but these rocks take the weight off my arms. The return stroke
is nothing! You're going to flip when you try these!"
I have to admit that, despite the physics, I'm suspect of those river cobbles duct-taped to
our oars. They make our boat look even more primitive, in fact, downright Flintstonian.
But when I take my turn rowing into the wind later that afternoon, I'm sold: "These rocks
make the oars feel weightless in my hands! What a great innovation!" Our rock-weighted
oars propel our raft through the blackfly-infested flatwaters of Ouray National Wildlife
Refuge and the splendid canyons of Desolation and Gray. We muse about the
appropriate nature of our stone-age technology in the stone-encrusted landscape
surrounding us.
On day 21, at the boat ramp in Green River, Utah, where we stop to buy
groceries-including one of the town's famous watermelons--we are once again anchored
next to a fleet of sleek, self-bailing rafts rigged for a five-day trip through Cataract
Canyon. This time, a Hawaiian-shirted boater comes over with a grin and says, "I've been
admiring your counter-balanced oars."
Tim beams as he packs onions into a recycled bag. "They're the greatest, simplest
invention!" he explains. "And the best part is I made them myself-for about 2 cents worth
of duct tape!" The Hawaiian-shirted boater laughs and nods. "I've got duct tape," he says,
"so I think I'll stop at the first cobble bar and pick up some rocks."
Through the hundred, gorgeous, flatwater miles of Labyrinth and Stillwater Canyons, Tim
pulls on the rock-weighted oars and enjoys his weightless return stroke thousands of
times each day. Then after the Colorado River adds its muscular flow, he rows through
Cataract Canyon before the final push through 30 miles of flooded river in Lake Powell.
The wind gusts fiercely, so we anchor up in a shady alcove to wait it out as powerboats
and jet skis scream by. Then after the sun drops low, we take turns rowing through the
quiet, starlit night. "You know," Tim reflects, "it would have taken thousands of years of
tumbling for these rocks to make the trip they've just made attached to my oars."
When we reach Hite Marina, we face the sad task of packing up our wonderful wilderness
adventure into the back of the van. We also confront civilization at its motorized worst.
One fume-belching truck after another backs down the ramp and unloads a powerboat or
jet ski right next to us. I think I might get sick. When it comes time to pack up the oars,
Tim pulls off the duct tape and removes the elongated cobbles. I watch as he puts the
stones down on the concrete boat ramp and then, after a few moments consideration,
picks them up and nests them in the back of the van. "Are you going to save those
rocks?" I ask.
"No," he answers, "I'll find two more at the next put in. But I can't quite leave these river
rocks here at the edge of Powell Mudhole. They've served me so well, I want to at least
return them to a real river where they can keep on being cobbles."
After driving about two hours from Hite, we come to the San Juan River. Tim pulls over
just beyond the bridge, turns off the engine, opens the van's back doors and extricates
the two river cobbles from beneath the mountain of gear. We each take one and walk
down to the silty river's edge. With cottonwood leaves rustling overhead, we hurl the
stones into the current. With two sonorous kerplunks they disappear, two pieces of
perfect gear, recycled to tumble once again in a flowing river. "Thank you." Tim says.
Stone-Age Boating, Vileisis, P.
Paddlers wishing to combine hiking with their rafting need look no further than Banff's
Canadian Mountain Holidays (CMH) Heli-Hiking Multi-Adventure Trips, combining
whitewater rafting and canoeing on the Fraser River with remote wilderness heli-hiking. It
also includes a four-night stay in the deluxe Valemount Lodge. The first two days it's into
the whirlybird and off into the heart of British Columbia's wilderness for guided
backcountry jaunts. Hikes take land-lubing paddlers across flowered alpine meadows,
rugged glaciers, and high ridges and peaks; hikers are grouped by experience from day
hikers to mountaineers. Paddlers are then treated to whitewater rafting, horseback riding,
wildlife viewing river canoe trips and guided fly fishing on the Fraser River. Trips run in
July and August and range from $1,375 to $1,830 CN. "We've focused on providing a
premium vacation with the priority on minimal impact to this majestic yet fragile
environment," says CMH President Mark Kingsbury. "Our guests have told us that our
trips are indescribable." Accommodations are billed as stylish and comfortable and most
lodges' staff includes a chef, baker and masseuse.
This trip combines two of the best ways to experience the 280 million-year-old sandstone
of Utah and Colorado's canyon country from top to bottom-whitewater rafting and
mountain biking. Holiday Expeditions guides three bike/raft combo options from May to
September, offering flexibility and a range of experiences for riders and paddlers of all
abilities.
The Yampa combo in Dinosaur National Monument (seven days; $1,095) is wild and
beautiful and features 46 miles of desert biking followed by 71 miles of paddling through
the Yampa River Canyon. Holiday's other seven-day option ($1,195) is the White Rim
Trail-Cataract Canyon Combo, with three of those days spent riding the classic 65-mile
White Rim Trail along the Green and Colorado rivers. The next four days are spent
floating Cataract Canyon through Canyonlands National Park with its side canyons,
waterfalls and ancient Pueblo ruins. The third combo is a four-day Moab, Utah, adventure
($685) featuring two biking days in the La Sal Mountains and two paddling days down
Westwater Canyon of the Colorado-a canyonlands classic all the way around. All trips are
fully inclusive from Holiday's launch site in either Vernal or Green River, Utah.
--Contact Holiday Expeditions, 544 East 3900 South, Salt Lake City, UT 84107; (800) 624-6323, www.bikeraft.com.
--ahb
Many towns offer scenic railway tours, but only in West Chester, Pa., do the train station
and paddleshop share the same piece of property and offer a combination canoe
trip/scenic railway ride on the Mid-Atlantic's only canoe train. It's quite a shuttle, riding by
rail along the Brandywine River from Northbrook, Pa., to the launch site at Harvey's
Bridge. "It gives each of our operations something unique to the area," says Brandywine
Scenic Railway general manager Maurice Cannon. "The tracks run right up and down the
river and it's a pretty piece of railroad." Rails to the River is the brainchild of Northbrook
Canoe's Zeke Hubbard, who has been selling and renting canoes in the area for more
than 20 years. Excursions are priced per boat and include equipment and continental
breakfast for two served on board the train (barbecue lunch is optional upon your return).
For paddlers wishing to visit the historic Brandywine Valley, a 30-minute scenic train ride
followed by a leisurely paddle (about two and a half hours) among blue herons and the
natural tranquility of Chester County's Brandywine River is the perfect solution. Trips run
May through October; cost including meal and canoe rental is $46 per couple, with trips
offered in the morning and afternoon. Reservations required.
--Contact the Northbrook Canoe Company, 1810 Beagle Rd., West Chester, PA 19382; (610) 793-2279 or (610)
793-4433. --ahb
Although Terlingua, Texas' Texas River Expeditions offers trips ranging from gourmet
wine tasting to Virgin Island sea kayaking, paddling astronomers will want to visit this
desert town to take advantage of two trips revolving around the night time sky. Full Moon
Over Boquillas is a two night/three day adventure down the Rio Grande's 33-mile
Boquillas Canyon, offered every month of the year during the full moon. This is the
deepest canyon in Big Bend National Park and guests will experience moon shadow and
nighttime side hikes the likes of which most diurnal paddlers can only dream of
($395/person).
The other after-dark trip is an overnight, star gazing raft trip down the Rio Grande's
19-mile Santa Elena Canyon--accompanied by experts from nearby Ft. Davis's McDonald
Observatory. "The folks from the observatory set up their telescopes and we literally have
a star party," says Texas River Expeditions owner Greg Henington. "This trip is ideal for
the lay person who wants an intimate look at astronomy, with the opportunity to ask lots
of questions." Star Parties ($295/person) are offered in the spring and fall with part of the
proceeds going as a donation to the McDonald Observatory. Meals, river equipment,
guides (both river and astrological) and telescopes are included. And while you're in the
Big Bend region and in the mood for natural lights, don't fail to visit the nearby town of
Marfa, Texas, and the Marfa Mystery Lights (www.marfalights.com).
--Contact Texas River Expeditions, P.O. Box 583, Terlingua, TX 79852; (800) 839-7238, www.texasriver.com. --ahb
The Classical Music Journey is a five-day Epicurean's delight on the Dolores River in
southwestern Colorado. String quartet performances by the Los Angeles Philharmonic
Orchestra, Anasazi ruins, exceptional food, desert canyons and robust whitewater
highlight this enriching adventure. The music is artfully performed, the guests are
graciously treated and the food is creatively prepared.
The difference between this river trip and others becomes apparent as the guides
mindfully unload sheets of yellow-brown music from their river-worn ammo cans. They
transform a bucolic meadow on the banks of the Dolores into an acoustic performance
area, setting up musicians' chairs and silver music stands. The musicians gather with
their river-journeyed instruments and discuss the evening's performance with the guests.
The meadow is silent as the first bow connects with the viola's strings. The cello and
violins quietly introduce themselves, and then create bold melodies in persistent
succession. The stringed instruments' climactic crescendo recalls the day of rafting. "So
this is what life is all about," echoes through rafter's minds as they sip Cabernet
Sauvignon while listening to Vivaldi's Four Seasons accompanied by the sounds of
rustling pines, the river and the wind.
--Dvorak's Kayak & Rafting Expeditions in Nathrop, Colo., guides two Classical Music River Journeys each summer.
For reservations and information call (800) 824-3795. --Stacy Volker
If whitewater and white sheets sounds like the package you are looking for, consider
lodge-to-lodge rafting with Warren River Expeditions on Idaho's Main Salmon River. This
is the only way to paddle the River of No Return and sleep indoors at the same time with
a hot shower and other creature comforts. Beginning 10 years ago as a way to specialize
raft trips for retired folks, the idea took off quickly. Lodges are all private, pre-existing
holdings within the Frank Church Wilderness Area and vary from rustic homesteads with
no electricity to plush, renovated mountain lodges. "The owners vary from good old boys
to newcomers," says Warren River Expeditions owner Dave Warren. "It's a fun trip.
Instead of camping, you're staying at a lodge." Each night you'll be greeted with cocktails,
hors d'oeuvres and homestyle dinners including baked chicken, prime rib, filet of salmon
and game hen. "The lodges end up competing to outdo each other with the food," says
Warren.
Trips run six days with four days of paddling. After rendezvousing in Salmon, Idaho,
paddlers travel by land to Salmon River Lodge. Days two through five are on the
river--whether you're paddling one of Warren's inflatables or your personal kayak. And if
you're sore on day five don't worry-the rapids are milder and you'll be rewarded that night
with western hospitality and a hot tub soak at Shepp Ranch. Your shuttle after breakfast
on day six is a backcountry air taxi to Boise or Jet Boat service back to Salmon.
--Warren River Expeditions runs three- to five-lodge trips and specialty lodge trips in the spring, summer and fall (6
days/5 nights $1,525). Contact them at P.O. Box 1375, Salmon, Idaho 83467; (800) 765-0421, www.raftidaho.com.
--ahb
Gentle trade winds rustle through the rain forest of Hawaii's Kohala Mountain and the air
is rich with the sweet fragrance of ginger and guava. As our inflatable kayak floats past
tall, flowering Albizia trees, we hear the songs of native Hawaiian birds ringing through
the lush, tropical foliage. We have just begun our kayaking trip on the Kohala Ditch--an
historic irrigation system built more than 90 years ago to bring precious fresh water from
mountain streams to the thirsty sugar-cane crops planted in the area's arid lower
elevations.
Our guides turn on the headlamps on their helmets and we enter the first of 10 tunnels,
the longest of which is 1,800 feet. We also cruise six open ditches and five flumes, the
most impressive passing over a waterfall named Pu`u Waiole, Hill of Never-Ending
Water. "When we have kids come on our system and say it's better than Disneyland,
that's what really brings a smile to my face," says Naungayan. "The best thing is, this ride
is real."
--Cruises run daily (morning and afternoon) except Thanksgiving, Christmas Day and New Year's Day ($75 adults, $55
children). Contact Kamuela Kayak Corporation/Kohala Mountain Kayak Cruise, P.O. Box 660, Kapaau, HI 96755; (808)
889-6922, www.kohala.net/kayak. --Peter von Buol
If you've ever been caught in rough water, you'll appreciate Maine Island Kayak Co.'s
Lighthouses of Maine sea kayaking trips, which showcase an important part of coastal
history while leading paddlers on a tour of famous Maine lighthouses. Based in Peaks
Island, Maine, since 1986, owners Tom Bergh and June O'Neill lead lighthouse tours
ranging from self-supported expeditions with camping on neighboring islands to bed &
breakfast day trips to the famous ship-guiding lights of Maine's coast. "One thing unique
about these trips is that you're going to outer island environments which are generally not
protected," says Bergh. "People are attracted to lighthouses; there's something about the
protection, the safety, amidst the wild of the sea." The series, offered from June to
September, includes guided lighthouse tours in Southwestern Casco Bay, Southwestern
Penobscot Bay, Eastern Penobscot Bay and Western Penobscot Bay. Trips are
all-inclusive and range from $225 to $575.
--For more information, contact Maine Island Kayak Co., 70 Luther St., Peaks Island, ME 04108; (800) 796-2373,
www.maineislandkayak.com. --ahb
Angels Camp, Calif.'s OARS is known for its high-end specialty trips, from its Head to Tail
Salmon River trips to its once-in-a-lifetime Millenium Trip to Fiji. So naturally paddlers
turn to them for the most unique way to paddle with whales. Those who can afford it will
be paddling with orcas in the Johnstone Strait for four days and four nights-maximizing
whale time with helicopter shuttles each day from the world famous, five-star Nimmo Bay
Resort. "Essentially you're using a helicopter shuttle to paddle with the bay's 300-odd
resident killer whales," says OARS' Eric Grathwol. "You get guaranteed time with the
whales, phenomenal paddling, and you're coming home each night to a five-star resort
with amazing meals." Of course, heli-kayaking with orcas doesn't come without a cost:
trips are available upon request from June to July (the trip is new for 1999) at a cost of
$3,495 per person. Included is professional guiding services, all equipment, all meals
(including beer and wine with lunch) and helicopter transfers. The cedar-fringed bays and
archipelago islands of the Johnstone Strait at the northeast end of Vancouver Island are
known as the best place in the world to see orcas in the wild; and retiring to the Nimmo
Bay Resort each night will give you plenty of time to reflect as you dine on gourmet meals
and soak in the waterfall hot tub before retiring to a personal chalet.
--Contact OARS, P.O. Box 67, Angels Camp, CA 95222; (800) 346-6277, www.oars.com --ahb
Anthropology buffs will not find a more intimate-or remote-wilderness and cultural
experience than River Journeys' Tatshenshini-Alsek interpretive trips. James Katz has
been guiding trips on the Tatshenshini-Alsek River for 21 years and his interpretive
excursions are some of the most unique trips in the world. "We started offering it after we
explored the river and found it has everything we wanted in a wilderness trip, from
challenging whitewater to serene flats in an intact watershed," says Katz. "It's got a
unique draw."
The 11-day rafting expeditions (four departures in 1999 ranging from $2450-$2550)
feature natural history lessons each day by John Kipping and Roger Luckenbach,
naturalists, conservationists and guides with over 25 years of experience. Paddlers will
hike rugged side canyons and glacial moraines to discuss plant succession and
glaciation as well as learn about the bears, eagles, goats and other species encountered
along the way. The July 21, 1999, departure-entitled "Tlingit Tales, Bear Mythology,
Alaskan Wilderness Literature and Natural History"--features Nora and Richard
Dauenhauer, two of Alaska's most highly regarded anthropologists who have collected
and translated Tlingit oral history for the past 25 years. Their presence turns the ultimate
Alaskan river experience into a state-of-the-art wilderness literature experience. Richard
also joins the Aug. 25 departure for a visit to Tlingit summer fish camps and an
exploration of the area's native history.
Prices include lodging in Haines and Juneau, all meals, guides, instruction by
naturalists/anthropologists, equipment, and transportation from Haines to Juneau. "There
are few places on earth that compare for spectacular beauty and wildlife," says Katz.
"You go up there and you're going back 20 to 30 thousand years."
--Contact James Henry River Journeys/Wilderness Journeys, Box 807, Bolinas, CA 94924; (800) 786-1830,
jhrj@riverjourneys.com --ahb
Most canoes and kayaks can be better maneuvered with a simple, effective technique:
heeling or leaning the paddlecraft. Heeling effectively and consistently is a key to
advanced boat handling. Well-controlled boat leans will help you achieve faster, more
complete spins and turns with a minimum of effort. A precisely controlled heel is also
essential for efficient ferries, peel-outs, and eddy turns.
For many paddlers, heeling is a scary affair. Leaning a boat during a turn seems an
unnecessary risk--albeit an essential one for eddy turns. Once mastered, a solid heel or
boat lean becomes automatic and actually adds to the safety and efficiency of a turn.
Developing the skill is not hard. A few hours of practice can lead to a lifetime of better
boat handling. The following exercises can enhance your ability to achieve and maintain
a smooth, predictable heel.
Shore Practice
Use a paddle as a brace against the shore and practice heeling the boat (new canoeists
may want to start with a standard three-point kneeling position and a J-lean). Another
useful practice is to use one's hands to brace against a dock or other stationary object.
Assisted Practice
Practicing with someone's help is the safest way to learn how to heel. One method is for
the person helping to stand in the water next to the boat to guard the high gunwale. The
guard places his or her hands a couple of inches above the rail to keep the paddler from
turning the boat over. This same procedure can occur with two paddlers in boats taking
turns as guard.
Unassisted Practice
After practicing with assistance, cultivate a confident, controlled heel with two additional
exercises: the heel and hold and the heel and paddle.
Heel and Hold
To practice the Heel and Hold, heel the boat to the onside using any kneeling position
(start with the three-point kneel). Have the paddle extend over the gunwale in the low
brace position. Be ready to execute a low brace if needed. Hold the heel for one minute,
trying to minimize wobble. Then roll the boat back to level in one smooth, controlled
motion.
Next, heel the boat to the offside (high kneel positions are difficult with an offside heel).
Extend the paddle over the rail in the high brace position. Be ready to execute a high
brace if needed. Hold the heel for one minute. A slight sculling movement with the paddle
may help maintain this position. Then roll the boat back to level in one smooth, controlled
motion.
Try the same exercises while in the cross low brace and cross high brace positions.
Heel and Paddle
To get the feel of a moving, heeled boat, try keeping the boat heeled to the onside while
paddling straight. Try to maintain the heel while paddling for at least three minutes.
Paddle slowly and smoothly, and have a brace ready. Practice variations of this exercise
heeled to the offside and heeled away from the offside using cross forward or compound
cross forward strokes.
Land Practice
Even when the weather is cold or it is inconvenient to float, these practice exercises can
be accomplished on land--even in a garage or carpeted living room--by using the Peppe
Method. American Canoe Association instructor trainer Jackie Peppe, who teaches in
Maine, helps students practice heeling their canoes or kayaks by having them place their
boats on partially inflated inner tubes instead of water. This makes practice possible even
in the dead of winter or if you have to stay home to baby-sit.
--Mark Molina is an ACA-certified instructor trainer from Ft. Pierce, Fla.
Punch or Pull?
Use Higher Pivots for Longer Power
by Kent Ford
As a teaching trick, instructors often advocate punching out at eye level during a forward
stroke. While this is useful for developing torso power and blade position, it isn't exactly
correct for ultimate power. In each forward stroke you want to extend the tip of the blade
forward, rather than reaching both arms forward for the plant. You'll pull yourself further if
the tip of the blade enters the water farther forward.
Reach with your bottom hand and bend your top arm slightly. Then use your top arm to
drive the blade into the water. This gets the blade fully submerged and ready for power.
Once the blade is in the water, minimize how much you punch with the top hand. Instead,
pull primarily with the lower arm and drive the top hand forward with your top shoulder.
Funded by offshore oil and gas leases, the fund's concept is to use revenue from one
natural resource to pay for the protection of another. The fund is the principle source of
revenue to acquire land for National Parks and Forests, Wilderness and National
Recreation Areas, and buffers along Wild & Scenic rivers.
For the past 19 years, however, paddlers and other outdoor users have lost funding
needed to keep pace with growing demand for outdoor recreation. Since 1979 LWCF has
been funded well below its annual authorization of $900 million, its moneys diverted for
other programs. In 1996 LWCF hit an all time low, receiving less than 15 percent of its
authorized amount. Because of two high-profile acquisitions in 1997--Headwaters Forest
in California and the New World Mine in Montana--LWCF was fully funded in 1998, but
many legislators viewed this as a one-time political necessity. "We are supposed to be
getting a certain amount of money and we haven't been getting it," maintains Dave
Jenkins, director of conservation and public policy for the American Canoe Association.
Last spring, any hope that LWCF was out of the woods was dashed when the House
Republican's '99 budget, spearheaded by Representative John Kasich, proposed to zero
out all funding for federal land acquisition. The proposal also stated that all future land
acquisitions would be accomplished through land swaps, not purchases (in other words,
no net increases in public land would be allowed). Making matters worse, Ralph Regula
(R-OH), chairman of the Interior Subcommittee which oversees natural resource
spending, has not supported LWCF funding at the authorized level.
Dire Consequences
Outdoor user groups, environmental groups and resource managers are predicting dire
consequences if this trend does not change. Resource managers and environmental
groups envision having to go to greater extremes to protect the environment from the
impacts of overcrowding. There is concern by user groups about a future where many
existing National Parks, Wilderness Areas and rivers will be so overcrowded they will
have to be managed like DisneyLand, with other areas becoming so overly protected that
few people will have opportunity to enjoy them. "While various recreation interests,
environmental groups and resource managers are at each other's throats--fighting over
the few scraps Congress has thrown to us--development will continue to eat away at the
remaining undeveloped land," maintains Jenkins. "We will have failed to protect the
critical open space we need." Jenkins acknowledges that such a scenario may seem like
a stretch, but maintains that anyone involved in outdoor recreation can see the problems
already. "Overcrowding is here today, as is increasing tension between user groups and
growing conflict between recreation and environmental protection," he says.
Turning Things Around
Obtaining funding for LWCF is an issue overlooked by many, but there is hope. Groups
like the ACA, Outdoor Recreation Coalition of America (ORCA) and American Hiking
Society (AHS) banded together in 1997 to form Americans for Our Heritage and
Recreation (AHR), an organization dedicated to securing LWCF funding. "We're fully
committed to the revitalization of LWCF in 1999 and are contributing significant resources
to that end," maintains Dave Secunda, executive director of ORCA.
In addition to AHR's efforts, new legislative proposals also hold promise. House Minority
Leader Richard Gephardt recently introduced a bill that seeks to ensure LWCF is fully
funded at $900 million per year. Senator Mary Landrieu (D-LA) also introduced a bill that
would take 50 percent of offshore oil and gas lease revenue (over $5 billion in 1998) off
budget so it is less vulnerable to the whims of appropriations. Under the bill, 23 percent of
that money would be used to fund conservation programs including LWCF. This plan has
also been introduced in the House of Representatives and appears to have bipartisan
support.
For now, however, funding for LWCF must still come through the normal budget process.
The key to success is for outdoor enthusiasts to make their voices heard by contacting
members of Congress and submitting editorials to local newspapers. "Special interests
are making their funding needs a priority in Congress," says Jenkins. "In an era of lean
budgets, this success has often come at the expense of outdoor recreation. The fact that
these interests can succeed while outdoor interests cannot is because many outdoor
enthusiasts are not fighting for this funding.
"Outdoor recreation is more popular than ever," he adds. "Every city and county in the
nation cares about tourism and recreation dollars, yet we continue to lose our funding. If
things are to change, there must be a political price to pay for officials who ignore land
acquisition needs."
--For more information, contact the ACA conservation and public policy department at (703) 451-0141; or the AHR at
(202) 429-2663. --Scott Bell
"It's a no-win situation for managers and boaters--there's eight chefs trying to cook one
cake, and it's gonna fall."
The lower Deschutes River is the culmination of the Deschutes' journey from its
headwaters in the Cascade Mountains through Bend, Ore., and beyond Lake Billy
Chinook, where it mingles with the Crooked and Metolius rivers behind Pelton dam.
Below Pelton, the lower river flows 100 miles without obstruction to the Columbia,
through the communities of Warm Springs and Maupin, Ore. Thirteen miles of that run,
above and below Maupin, are especially well-known for their whitewater and therein lies
the problem. The lower Deschutes is accessible and easy to run, so everybody does.
This has caused growing pains for boaters, fishermen, regulatory agencies, communities
and the river itself--including a Bureau of Land Management (BLM) plan to staunch
weekend use.
The problem is crowding; but it should have been foreseen, say commercial outfitters.
They claim that for too many years it was too easy for people to obtain permits to operate
on the river, and that too little management of commercial use existed. "Up until recently,
pretty much anybody who came to the table got a permit from the BLM," says Dennis
Oliphant, owner of Sun Country Tours, a Bend, Ore., outfitter. "They should have stopped
it years ago."
Destruction of riparian habitat, campsites and property has raised complaints. According
to Brian Cunninghame, natural resource planner for the Confederated Tribes of Warm
Springs, one of the area's landowners, complaints from private boaters about "rude
behavior" by commercial passengers are also common. "We're dealing with a lot of
anti-social behavior on the weekends," he says. "Families are being forced to put up with
obscene behavior and nudity, and unwanted attacks from rowdy groups with huge water
cannons."
Before the implementation of the BLM plan two years ago, the lower Deschutes was
known for an "Animal House" atmosphere during busy weekends. According to veteran
Deschutes guide Larry Firman of Bend, years ago the circus even included an obese
man who routinely floated the river with a gas-powered bilge pump he'd converted into a
boat-mounted, mega-pressure water weapon. "There were days when you could literally
walk from one side of the river to the other on top of rafts," he says.
Commercial outfitters aren't arguing there wasn't a problem, but claim that they are being
held accountable for more than their share. In 1996, when the number of commercial
permits available was capped, the river had 135 commercial operators. The new
management plan increases weekend "boater pass fees," which every boater must pay
to float the river, in an attempt to displace users toward the less-crowded mid-week. But it
also targets outfitters by holding them to a maximum level of weekend user-days and
requires them to reduce this number by 5 percent each subsequent year until an
undefined "target level" is reached. "It's really a fascinating evolution for the river," says
the BLM's Tom Mottl, who helped develop the new regulatory system.
The plan calls for targeted levels of private and commercial river use, which must be met
on an annual basis. If it isn't, private boaters and outfitters will face a "Limited Permit
System" which would require each user to apply for a lottery-style permit prior to launch.
This possibility does not please outfitters who rely on walk-in customers. "It's a bad
system," says Kent Wickham, owner of Bend's Ouzel Outfitters. "It's a no-win situation for
managers and boaters--there's eight chefs trying to cook one cake, and it's gonna fall."
The plan has indeed seen most of its criticism come from commercial operators in and
around the river, but not for the same reasons. One rental operation noted that business
was down simply because law enforcement officials had become more stringent in citing
boaters for alcohol-related violations. Many guides, however, feel the last two seasons
have been much better than previous years. Firman actually left the industry for a few
years due to the Deschutes' past problems and returned last year. "I was disgusted," he
says. "Disgusted by the masses on the water, the alcoholism and some folks' disregard
for other people. It was insanity."
Dave Simms, also of Bend, guided on the lower Deschutes for the sixth summer in a row
last summer and noted a marked change from two years ago, when the crowding was at
its worst. "This summer there were a lot less people," he says. "It's a completely different
scene now."
--Mark Elling
Like climbers, some hand paddlers have learned to place protection at certain crux
moves.
With 20/20 hindsight, Harold finally figured out how to avoid taking a
mulligan everytime he hit his ball in the water.
West
Upper North Fork, Fish Creek, Steamboat Springs, Colo.
There's only one person to credit for venturing up the obscure upper north fork of Fish
Creek in Steamboat Springs, Colo.: 17-year-old Charlie Beavers. "I had been thinking
about it since the year before," says the prodigal hairboater. "Then, when I got back from
boating in California last May, I decided to walk up and check it out. The next day we ran
the whole thing."
Following Beavers down the Class V-VI run were elder statesmen Waylon Rife, Craig
Frithsen and Joel McBride of Steamboat Springs. The foursome ran pretty much
everything, says Beavers, except for the last drop, which has still yet to be run. Beavers
estimates the one-and-a-half mile section to drop at least 400 feet per mile. "The whole
thing's a rapid," says Beavers, who ran it six times in '98. "The major Class Vs are
definitely distinct, and the in-between stuff is all Class IV." In an odd way of paying
homage to Beavers' pioneering descent, the run's rapids stick to a Leave it to Beaver
theme, from the first drop named Wally to the last drop named Eddie Haskell ("But I had
nothing to do with naming them," maintains Beavers). Others quickly found out about the
run, with as many as 20 different people running it in '98 when flows were right. "It was
one of the hardest things we ran all year," says Daniel De La Vergne, an eastern boater
who went on a coast-to-coast boating rampage in 1998. "It was a little higher than Charlie
thought, and the whole thing was one giant rapid." Just like the Beav in Leave it to
Beaver, the ever-humble Beavers shrugs-off the accomplishment. "It's definitely a real
Northwest Colorado-style classic," he says. "It's well worth doing. There's a lot of
whitewater packed in there." --edb
As if Meatgrinder and the Crystal Gorge weren't enough, last July a group of paddlers
spearheaded by New Mexico's Ed Lucero ventured higher upstream to the Upper North
Fork of the Crystal near Marble. What they found, according to Crested Butte's James
Lozeau, who photographed the run, "was way more rad than the Crystal
Gorge--everything was pretty hairy with lots of wood and undercuts." Lucero, who made
the first descent with Boone, N.C.'s Raymond "Bubba" Cotton, Bo Wallace and Daniel De
La Vergne, is quick to agree. "It's definitely a classic park and pray kind of run," he says.
You won't find the run in Colorado Rivers and Creeks, the tell-all guidebook to Colorado
boating. Not because the authors didn't know about it, but because it was a little too
obscure. "We had the option of putting it in there, but decided not to," says author Gordon
Banks. "It's too dependent on flow. They just linked a bunch of its drops together."
After surviving "an intense Class V 4WD road" to get to the put-in, Lucero and company
put in at the top of a 20-foot cascade with the river running at the perfect level of about
200 cfs. From there it was on to a second 20-foot cascade, separated from the first only
by an eddy, then on to a 15-foot waterfall and a weird drop Lucero describes as "a
waterfall with a 90-degree bend." Then the river entered a deep gorge requiring a move
unique even to Lucero. "You had to boof off this rock going in one direction," he says,
"but then you had to change your direction in mid air to avoid getting stuffed under this
log at the bottom." The 1.5-mile section ended with another 15-foot waterfall right at the
take-out. "It's definitely Class V from the put-in to the take-out," says the mild-mannered
Lucero, who ran the run while trying out a new boat for the first time. "It never eases up.
There's a lot of wood, but it's not really super, super gnarly. I had heard it was a first
descent, but I'm not sure." --edb
As if this was the year for north fork first descents in Colorado, the Falling Down
Productions gang from Lansing, W.V., discovered this run while hanging out in Crested
Butte last July and running the local classics: Oh-Be-Joyful, East and Slate Rivers and,
this year, Daisy Creek. "As with most things in CB, this run was found in a bar," says B.J.
Johnson. "Our first glimpse of the falls left all the kayakers weak in the knees and the
vultures drooling." Access to this little-known creek is down Slate River Road, and luckily
the run is only four miles out of town, considering the whole thing is just three-quarters of
a mile long. That three-quarters, however, packs a wallop, dropping 250 feet in a gorge
with 100-foot-high scree slopes.
Slate Falls is a series of seven teacup-type drops ranging from four to 24 feet in height.
"Although the main drops looked surprisingly clean, our scouting position revealed an
entrance slot no more than a boat width wide; and this was at the lip of five continuous
vertical drops," explains Johnson. After scouting it, the next morning BJ and company
decided to give it a go and set up safety and cameras, a difficult task in the steep gorge.
Johnson ran the creek first without incident, followed by Shannon Carroll, who almost lost
her paddle at the kayak-wide entrance slot and rolled up just before the second drop.
"There is definitely no room for paddles there," says Johnson. Look for both runs in
Falling Down Production's new video, Over the Edge! --ahb
Don't even think about pronouncing the Popo Agie River near Lander, Wyo., as it sounds.
If you do, your cover as a hairboater will be blown. It's pronounced "Poposia." More
importantly, don't think about paddling its upper reaches unless you're ready for a
hair-raising, rock-'em-sock-'em ride. "The Upper section is definitely Class V plus, plus,"
says Jackson, Wyo.'s Aaron Pruzan, who has run it three times. "It's incredibly steep and
is pretty out-on-control. It's one of the most continuous pieces of whitewater I've seen and
is right on the limits of what's runable."
The run, located a throw bag's toss from the climbing Mecca of Wild Iris and Sinks
Canyon, was first done at low water in 1996 by Olaf "Olie" Koehler, Jim Curzon and Pete
Jenkins. In 1997 in was done at a slightly higher flow by Olie, Pruzan, Pat Libi, Greg
Goodyear and Mike Berris. Last summer, the ante was upped when Pruzan, Ward
Blanch, Mike Werner, Andy England and a boater known only as Crazy Nate ran it at
nearly twice its earlier level. "Last year was a much more outrageous flow," continues
Pruzan. "In the past, whenever there has been enough water for the main section,
everyone thought the Upper was too high. This time we did it anyway."
What makes the run so outrageous, adds Pruzan, is its gradient. The
mile-and-a-half-long section doesn't have any real waterfalls, yet it drops more than 600
feet per mile. And the action starts right away, requiring you to peel out into "Class V
plus" as soon as you put-in at the base of a large waterfall. In keeping with the Jackson
tradition of never naming drops, none of the rapids have been named. But Crack in the
Head might work for the second drop, which Pruzan says is one of the run's cruxes; last
year the rapid cracked Crazy Nate's head open above the eye and forced him to walk the
sidelines the rest of the trip.
If you have any adrenaline left after the Upper section, you can paddle two hours down
the Middle Fork to the take-out at Sinks Canyon State Park, where the river disappears
underground. But don't pat yourself on the back too early after finishing the Upper
section. "The Upper section is a very intricate piece of whitewater," says Pruzan. "You
have to bite off one little chunk of it at a time. But even the main Middle Fork is still Class
V." --edb
When Royal Robbins, Reg Lake and Doug Tompkins made the first descent of
California's Class V+ Middle Fork San Joaquin in 1980, they described more than 50
portages, some of them a mile long, coupled with intense rock climbing. Since then, only
two other groups have summoned the courage to follow their wake: an expedition in 1996
by Hayden Glatte, Mark Kocina, Mark Hayden and Scott Lindgren; and another last
summer by Willie and Johnny Kern, Brandon and Dustin Knapp, Mark Hayden, Tim
Keggerman, Clay Wright and Lindgren.
There's more than one reason for the run's limited popularity. It's 32.5 miles long,
meaning anyone who attempts it has to paddle a loaded boat, and its average gradient of
165 feet per mile soars to 480, 360, 340 and 310 in the more difficult sections. Then, of
course, there's the Crucible, a 200-yard-long crux with several Class Vs you have to run
blind and at least two rope-involved portages that take up to five hours to pass. "It's one
of the most demanding trips around," says Lindgren. "It takes four days of paddling with
80-lb. boats, and has endless vertical wall gorges with big portages, big whitewater and
big exposure." Gauging the run's flow beforehand and committing yourself to the
Crucible, he adds, is the first obstacle you have to overcome before even putting on.
The 1998 expedition managed to whittle the portage fest to 35, and broke them down into
small single-rapid sections so the group could stay near the river bed. Still, it tested the
mettle of the nation's best, and will continue to do so for anyone who attempts it. "It
requires all the key elements of expedition boating," says Lindgren, one of two paddlers
psycho enough to have run it twice. "It's a balancing act between your brain, your body,
your stamina and your willingness to expose yourself in a place that allows no exit." --edb
Northwest
North Fork Bremner River
Alaska
When Dean Cummings, 1995 World Extreme Skiing Champion and owner of Alaska's
H20 Heli Adventures, first flew over an unrun, 12-mile section on the North Fork of
Alaska's Bremner River in 1997, he couldn't help but let out a whistle. "We were 7,000
feet above it and it was still frothy and white," he says. "Anytime you can see white from
that high up, you know it's serious water."
Last summer he decided to do something about it. Taking advantage of one of the
coldest summers on record--causing the glacier-fed river to drop to a manageable
level--Cummings rounded up Brennan Guth, Dustin Knapp and Scott Lindgren and hired
a bushplane to drop them off on a gravel bar four miles upstream of the canyon deep in
the heart of Wrangell-St. Elias National Park and Preserve, the largest national park in
the country. "We were all still pretty freaked out when we flew over it," he says. "We didn't
even decide we would do it until we got down to the river."
Compared to runs the group had been paddling earlier in the year, the run proved easier
than expected, though still hair-raising. And they ran everything except for a 50-foot
section where the river dropped 15 feet into a huge river-wide hydraulic. "That hole
wasn't happening for any of us," says Cummings. "I don't know if you could have gotten
out of it." Their successful descent owes itself largely to Mother Nature and her
benevolent flows. "It's still hairball Class V, no question," says Cummings. "It was just low
flows, probably the lowest that anyone's ever seen it. And the low flows were good
because it meant we could do it. Another thousand cfs in there and we would have ended
up carrying a lot of it."
If anyone can appreciate the descent, it's Alaskan guidebook author and doctor Andy
Embick, 48, who scouted the run by air in 1987 and ran portions of the Bremner's middle
and south forks. "It's definitely a tough one," says Embick, who spent thousands of
dollars taking flights over the canyon to scout and photograph the gorge. "It was a step
beyond anything I or my compadres could do. Even when we were in our prime and
feeling extremely capable we didn't think it was feasible. It's probably the last great
Alaskan problem." You can't put your finger on any one thing that makes it so tough, he
adds. "We call it the river of the 10 B's," he says. "It has big, brown water, bears, bugs,
bushes, bad weather, big boulders and big walls--and it's in the boondocks and takes big
bucks. Everything is against you. Dean-o deserves a lot of credit for going in there. He's
a brave boy." --edb
If there was one three-second period when the ante was upped in 1998, it could well
have come on July 31 when Shannon Carroll of Hico, W.V., ran 78-foot Sahalie Falls, a
popular tourist attraction on Oregon's McKenzie River 40 miles outside Eugene on Hwy
126. With the waterfall's height recently confirmed by Dustin and Brandon Knapp, Carroll,
a member of Team Pyranha, bested the United Kingdom's Shaun Baker and his former
World Freefall Waterfall Kayak record at Greenland's 64-foot Aldeyjarfoss. "We were on
our way to California and stopped in Eugene to break up the trip and surf at Red Sides,"
says the 20-year-old Carroll. "We read in the Waterfall Lover's Guide to the Pacific
Northwest about this waterfall just up the road. The book said it was 60 to 100 feet, so we
had no idea how high it really was."
Carroll was the only one who ran the section, which she estimates was flowing at
approximately 400-500 cfs. "It really wasn't that big of a deal, or as crazy as that sounds,"
she says. "But it was phenomenal. It looked perfect with a rolling tongue at the edge of
the drop." To get to the lip Carroll had to run a rapid about 50 yards long dropping 25 feet
over several ledges. From there it was fast current to the rolling lip and 78 feet of air into
the punchbowl below. And unlike Baker's previous record, this one was only caught by a
single 35mm exposure, the rights to which were quickly purchased by Teva. "It's the
sickest photo I've ever seen," says Driftwood Production's Scott Lindgren, who has filmed
and run his fair share of big drops. "It's probably the biggest thing that's ever been run."
--ahb
Southeast
Upper Fork of the Catawba
As of press time, the Upper North Fork of the Catawba near Linville Caverns, N.C., had
only been run five times, most of the descents taking place in spring 1998. And for good
reason. The section, which starts two miles from Linville Falls, occupies the extreme
upper reaches of the Catawba and rages towards sea level at a whopping 450 feet per
mile. With the entire Catawba watershed beginning only a mile upstream, the section
runs maybe twice a year, requiring at least seven or eight inches of rain.
The run was pioneered in the fall of '97 by Banner Elk, N.C., locals Doug Helms, Brent
Meadows, Franklin Smith, Jim Little, Quinn Slocumb, Chris Sumrell and Sherwood
Horine. The group put in below the first falls, a 50-foot slide into an undercut wall and
large hole, which was run last spring by Daniel De La Vergne, Brad Kee, Eamonn
McCullough, B.J. Johnson and Katie Nietert. The main gorge below the 50-footer
includes four series of falls. The first is called Shotgun Willie, consisting of a four-foot
entrance drop into a six-foot slide into an eight-foot slide into a 12-foot vertical drop into a
20-foot stairstep drop. As if it needs more, the river then courses through a log-strewn
boulder garden before entering the next rapid, Elephant Ear, a 15-foot drop into a
must-make eddy. Colt 45 comes next, the section's only unrun rapid, which local Spencer
Cooke describes as "a big meat cleaver with a bony entrance and a recirculating hole at
the bottom in a four-foot-wide area in a cave." The section's final waterfall is THC,
featuring a six-foot-wide entrance into a 25-foot drop. --edb
Although Gulf Creek near Steel, Ala., was first run in 1996 by Richard Vest and his sons
Matt and Rich, it wasn't until last year that interest in the run picked up among Alabama
hairboaters. In the first place, it takes a good four to five inches of rain to bring it up to a
runable level. Secondly, its access isn't necessarily boater friendly. Lastly comes its
gradient: dropping nearly 800 feet per mile, the section only appeals to a certain ilk of
paddler.
Personifying that ilk as well as anyone is Alabama's Brad Hinds, 27, a wireless
communications consultant by workday and hairboater of highest persuasion by
weekend. "I've probably been down it 10 times," says Hinds. "But it's definitely cutting
edge. Anything with that much drop is pretty consistent."
Although the section is solid Class V to V+, what causes the most consternation on the
mile-and-a-half run is a four-part rapid called Terminator, complete with trees, undercuts
and hydraulics (often all at the same time), and a 200-foot section known as Godzilla, a
mandatory portage capped by a 22-foot waterfall cascading into a three-foot-deep pool.
Last summer the falls were run for the first time by Gulf Creek guru Scott Byler, followed
by Hinds. Both admit there is not much room for error. "You have to boof it hard, or you
pay the price," says Hinds. "It's definitely balls-to-the-wall boating." --edb
Employees at Banner Elk, N.C.'s Edge of the World paddling shop have long known
about the Upper Upper Elk River. After all, the put-in at the dam outflow of a local duck
pond is only 100 yards from its doors. For the most part, however, they, and others of the
hairball fraternity, have been content with the "mellower" Class V- run downstream on the
Upper Elk. "From what I've heard, the Upper, Upper is pretty intense Class V+," says
Clem Newbold, whitewater manager for Edge of the World. "No one's really ever
ventured in there."
Until now. Last April a group of three decided to see what all the fuss was about for
themselves. "The run only took about 30 minutes of total paddling," says Boone, N.C.'s
Spencer Cooke, who ran the 300-vertical-foot, mile-long section with locals Daniel De La
Vergne and B.J. Johnson. "We scouted each rapid thoroughly, but it was still very
chaotic, unpredictable and butt-clenching." The threesome found 250 cfs coursing
through a 10- to 30-foot-wide streambed with three major rapids. The first rapid, says
Cooke, which they christened Beyond Hope, is a 15-foot-wide, 40-foot-long stairstep slide
littered with sideways-breaking holes that flipped two of them. The next rapid has two
stair-stepping drops with a tight entrance and a triple drop move around an undercut. The
final rapid features a sticky hole flanked by undercuts and branches. "We all took
different lines," says Cooke, "and we all came out pretty clean. But it was a hairy run.
There were lots of boulders, undercuts, trees, sieves and overhanging branches to deal
with." The trio didn't name any of the drops, but Undercut, Tree-Clogged, Sieve Fest
seems to have a nice ring. --edb
Gulf Creek
Alabama
Although Gulf Creek near Steel, Ala., was first run in 1996 by Richard Vest and his sons
Matt and Rich, it wasn't until last year that interest in the run picked up among Alabama
hairboaters. In the first place, it takes a good four to five inches of rain to bring it up to a
runable level. Secondly, its access isn't necessarily boater friendly. Lastly comes its
gradient: dropping nearly 800 feet per mile, the section only appeals to a certain ilk of
paddler.
Personifying that ilk as well as anyone is Alabama's Brad Hinds, 27, a wireless
communications consultant by workday and hairboater of highest persuasion by
weekend. "I've probably been down it 10 times," says Hinds. "But it's definitely cutting
edge. Anything with that much drop is pretty consistent."
Although the section is solid Class V to V+, what causes the most consternation on the
mile-and-a-half run is a four-part rapid called Terminator, complete with trees, undercuts
and hydraulics (often all at the same time), and a 200-foot section known as Godzilla, a
mandatory portage capped by a 22-foot waterfall cascading into a three-foot-deep pool.
Last summer the falls were run for the first time by Gulf Creek guru Scott Byler, followed
by Hinds. Both admit there is not much room for error. "You have to boof it hard, or you
pay the price," says Hinds. "It's definitely balls-to-the-wall boating." --edb
Northeast
Big Niagara
Nesowandehunk Stream, Maine
The Gillman Falls Rodeo in Old Town, Maine, was the perfect excuse for several
cutting-edge kayakers to notch a few first descents in a state known for the Kennebec
and Penobscot Rivers-not their tributaries. "We'd heard that Maine was good to the
whitewater fiend," says Katie Nietert of Lansing, W.V. "And we had seen some interesting
geography in Wayne Gentry's video Creekin' USA."
After warming up on Class V Gulf Hagas Creek, Nietert, B.J. Johnson, Shannon Carroll
and Brent Toepper, guided by a couple of locals, headed north out of Millinocket to
Baxter State Park and Mt. Katahdin. Little and Big Niagara falls on Nesowandehunk
Stream were first, the latter a first descent and the former run once before by Scott
Underhill. Carroll was the first to tackle Big Niagara, which featured 100 yards of twisting,
exploding water before the lip of a three-tiered 40-footer. Toepper and Johnson then
followed suit, with the rest of the crew joining them for the remaining Class IV creeking to
the Penobscot. The firsts in the Penobscot watershed weren't over; the following day the
group did an exploratory run of log-choked Katahdin Stream featuring many grueling
portages followed by a half-mile rock slide and a 20-foot cascade. Then it was off to the
Kennebec side of Maine.
After receiving much needed directions from locals, the Falling Down gang continued
living up to its name by running Parlin Pond with its 60-foot rock slide and three-quarters
of a mile of Class V. "The next stop was Pierce Pond with a known three miles of
200-foot-per-mile gradient and a rumored gorge with large waterfalls," says Nietert,
adding that the rumors were justified as they found four drops from 10 to 30 feet dropping
deep into a gorge. These steep, shale drops were a warm-up for Johnson's next act: an
unrun 30-foot falls with a large shelf rock protruding three-quarters of the way down.
Carroll followed, and the rest of the group joined them for two more miles of whitewater
that dumped them into the Kennebec. Six days of paddling including several first
descents, a rodeo and lots of steep creeks-not bad for a hairboating spring Maine
getaway. --ahb
Hair Perspectives
People are definitely upping the ante. Some of the most difficult stuff that's ever been run
was run last year (1998). The gear has gotten better, which has allowed people to push
themselves more and has spread out the area of where you can find runs. There are runs
all over the country now in places people would never expect. A run that was your basic
Class V a few years ago is now becoming a play run. People are also upping the ante by
running familiar runs at higher and higher flows. Last year we paddled the Silver Creek of
the American at 2,000 cfs into Golden Gate section, which was running 6,000 cfs. It was
absolutely huge.
Scott Lindgren, 26, Auburn, Calif.
I think the sport has grown in two different ways. Boat design has enabled people to run
harder stuff more safely; and the people out there boating have brought it to new levels.
In the old days, only a handful of people were pushing it to the limits. Now there are a lot
more people doing it. Also, people are now boating 300 days a year. I don't know too
many old-school people who ever did that. And there's a whole entourage of young
athletes boating 300 days a year who have learned the skills in a tenth the time in took
the earlier paddlers. I've spent six years in a row putting in 250 to 300 days per year. A
lot of people are conveying us as a group of young people out to kill ourselves, but that's
not it at all. People don't understand because they're not out there doing it. We're not a
bunch of psychos out there trying to kill ourselves.
Lars Holbek, 41, Coloma, Calif.
Paddlers, mostly lads in their 20s, are definitely running harder and more dangerous
rapids nowadays, and lots of them are vying for recognition and sponsorship in an
increasingly crowded pool. Some, it seems, are perhaps swayed by cameras to run big
stuff, which is understandable given the competitive nature of the rodeo and Class V
scenes. But I've paddled with the best of these guys and they are truly impressive. They
will run stuff and take hits and risk spinal injury to a level I was never willing. And for the
most part they pull it off perfectly, showing me, as always, that the difficulty line can be
pushed a little further and still be executed flawlessly.
There are still wipeouts, and way more destroyed or lost gear, and more paddlers are
dying, although I question if the relative death rate has changed. It seems, of late, that
perhaps some of the older paddlers (40+) are charging like the youth, but missing the
move and paying big. I say this only because I notice in myself a decline in paddling
prowess; partly a shift in focus to areas other than paddling, part physical and mental
slowing, and largely due to not paddling as much as I used to. Still I paddle just as hard
as ever, and keep up with almost all the youngin's, although I'm not leading all the time
like I once did. I can't help but wonder if some of the deaths of my peers is due in part to
failing to stay in touch with the aging body, the slower response time, the slower boats
and weaker arms. I can only assume the difficulty I have realizing I'm not as quick as
when I was 20 is true for others experiencing the same changes. I might call it the
"geezer syndrome."
Dan Gavere, 29, Salt Lake City, Utah
A lot of people have been paddling for so long and doing the same rivers year after year
that they're starting to look for new runs, which is causing them to up the ante. Every year
you're finding out about new runs, and last year especially. It's the natural evolution,
especially with new boats and techniques--the better paddlers get, the more difficult
water they want to paddle. Unfortunately, it's a sport where you can crash and burn so
when you do push the envelope and get in a bad situation, you pay a big price--much
moreso than in sports like snowboarding and mountain biking. But it's getting harder and
harder to find new challenging runs that are within reason and have access.
Brennan Guth, 32, Missoula, Mont.
Kayaking's different than other sports. On a difficult climb, you have to be at a certain
level to even get on it. Kayaking's not like that--you can try to run things even when
you're not really ready. People can get at the top of a rapid, decide to run it, screw up and
still end up at the bottom okay. This gives a lot of people a false sense of security. And
the number of people doing runs like this is growing rapidly. People can run hard stuff
real quickly now because skill levels are rising so fast. You used to be able to name on
one hand how many people did a certain difficult run. Now you don't even know who
everyone is. And it might start catching up with people. I think some people's invincible
attitude got a reality check when Chuck Kern died because he was the best there was.
Brad Hinds, 27, Birmingham, Ala.
A lot of boaters are pushing the envelope on a regular basis, running drops they never
thought they would run. A lot of it is equipment--even down to improved PFD
designs--and a lot is increased skill. But bigger drops have bigger consequences. And a
lot of people are boating stuff they shouldn't be on. A lot of up-and-coming boaters watch
videos and see people make stuff look easy. They have big balls but their paddling skills
aren't up to their bravery level. They haven't paid their dues and oftentimes don't respect
whitewater. I learn a lot every time I go boating with people like Dan Gavere, Clay Wright
and the Kerns. If they can't run something with style, they'll walk. And it's okay to
portage...they often even respect you more when you do. Everyone has on days and off
days, and you have to realize this and act accordingly. Some of the younger crowd, it
seems, is just out trying to make a name for themselves.
Dean Cummings, 32, Valdez, Alaska
People are definitely running harder stuff now, but it's no more radical than what people
have been paddling all along. It's a lot like skiing. People are out there finding new lines
in places that were considered death zones. But it's getting to that point faster now.
People are learning more quickly. In three years, someone can be running some pretty
hard stuff. And this can have a downside. A lot of Class Vs are now being run without
scouting and things, and that's what's getting dangerous. We need to get back to good,
Class V river running safety ethics. But the sport's on fire right now and people are
starting to realize that there are runs everywhere.
Aaron Pruzan, 30, Jackson, Wyo.
People are absolutely upping the ante. We were in South America last year on the Rio
Manzo, and there was this waterfall that had never been run, even though people had
been running the river for years. All of a sudden it was run 10 times in one week. Things
like that show what is happening in the sport. You can also see the trend by looking at
runs that used to be considered somewhat fringe, like the Clark's Fork, and now they're
getting done all the time. All of a sudden people are looking at stuff and starting to find
lines that are doable. People look at things differently, and a lot of times all it just takes is
just one person who sees a way through, and then everyone else will follow suit. What's
helped fuel it is technology. Creek boat technology lagged behind playboat technology
until just recently, and now it's caught up. It's come a long ways in a short time.
While some people are content to up the ante locally, at least one group last year made a
road trip out of it. And they did so in style by converting a white, 1981 Thomas-built,
full-sized school bus into a shuttle rig fit for a king. After buying it for $1,200 from a school
auction in North Carolina, Team Riot paddlers Daniel De La Vergne, Bo Wallace,
Spencer Cooke and Raymond "Bubba" Cotton took the seats out, replaced the driver's
seat with a red corduroy armchair, welded a dog house on the back for team dog Disco,
gave it an industrial-sized kayak rack, and rigged a hair-raising stereo system through an
isolator borrowed from the phone company. When all was said and done, the front half
boasted carpet, couches, closets, TVs and a VCR, and the back half housed two
motorcycles for running shuttle, assorted paddling gear and a bunk bed. The core four
first took it to the Watauga Gorge Race, then backfired their way to Big Fork, Mont.,
Calgary, Alberta, Wyoming and Colorado before returning three months and 14,000 miles
later to North Carolina. Along the way, they notched several first descents and gave
cross-state rides to more than 20 paddlers. And the only major repair team technician
Bubba had to deal with was replacing the brakes in Kingfish, S.D. --edb
● Women to Watch
Virginia's Russell
Fork: home to a
three-day
celebration of the
river, its mountains
and its people.
● Canoeing for Culture
● Okefenokee Threatened
One of 22 native
canoes making the by Gail Krueger
pilgrimage from British
Columbia to Tacoma,
Washington.
If so, shuck your day-to-day responsibilities aside and head south to one of the world's
Top Jungle Rivers. Each waterway listed below can be run in a variety of craft, from
inflatables to hardshells, and is guaranteed to put you in some of the best bush on the
planet--the type where your alarm clock rings from high in the rainforest canopy and you
can pick fruit as you float by the banks. You'll also be able to mingle with monkeys, chime
in with parrots and swing from canopy vines until your work cubicle fades into a distant
memory. Of course, the main attraction of these rivers is boulder-strewn, jungle-lined
whitewater, ranging anywhere from cricket-chirping Class II to snake-hissing Class V.
Listed alphabetically by continent, the following runs include simple day trips,
overnighters in thatched-roof huts and week-long outings where you can camp like Dr.
David Livingstone under the rainforest canopy. And who knows, after spending time in
the jungle, you might just unleash that hidden Tarzan or Jane that's been waiting to break
out of its city-locked shell. Just don't blame us if you come back to work growling.
Women have hit the mainstream in whitewater kayaking. No longer are they just running
shuttle and working part-time at retail shops. They are competing in rodeos, exploring
new rivers and creeks, and working at top positions within the industry. Look around at
any playhole, surf wave or difficult rapid these days and chances are you'll find a flotilla of
females right alongside their male counterparts. Turn the pages of any national
magazine, from ESPN to Shape, and you'll find an increasing number of women paddling
across their pages. Just as they have done in countless other sports, women have
surpassed the gender barrier in kayaking. No longer are they looked upon as lessers;
they are running the same, if not harder, drops as men and are competing at a
near-equal level.
Who are they, what drives them and how did they get involved in such a demanding
sport? To find out, we tracked down some of the leading women kayakers across the
country. And in looking at their answers, it's clear kayaking is no longer just a man's
world.
Paving the Way
Today's top female kayakers would not have gotten to their current positions without a
die-hard group of women setting the pace before them. But they have grabbed the baton
and are taking it full speed ahead. Many of the women who paved the way for today's
women kayakers are still in their boats today. Two-time Olympian Cathy Hearn is still
competing on the World Cup, and just two years ago Dana Chladek took the Olympic
silver on the Ocoee. Other women like Bunny Johns, president of the Nantahala Outdoor
Center, long-time rodeo competitor Risa Shimoda Callaway, four-time Wildwater
Champion Mary DeRiemer and Nancy Wiley also helped lay a solid foundation for today's
female kayakers.
Just as this new batch of women have had to pay their dues, so too did their
predecessors. DeRiemer, 41, has been paddling more than 20 years, and now helps
others accomplish their dreams as a kayak instructor and international guide. (She also
holds the distinction of being the first woman whose name appears on the Expediciones
Chile outhouse wall-an honor bestowed to those who had upright runs through the
Futaleafu's Throne Room, Zeta and Terminator and surfed the wave at Himalayas.)
While Mary was honing her skills abroad and in North Carolina, Nancy and her sister
Amy had already been kayaking in Colorado for some years. "I started kayaking when I
was 13," remembers Nancy, who with Amy attended Roger Paris' kayaking school in
Carbondale, Colo., in the mid-70s. "At that time (1974), my father was one of the first
kayakers in Durango, and he wanted a boating buddy." While Nancy went on to a
successful slalom and paddlesports retail career, Amy pursued freestyle. She placed
second in the 1997 East Coast Rodeo Team Trials at Rock Island, Tenn., and took fourth
at the 1997 World Championship in Ottawa, Canada.
The New Breed: Goals and Drive
Many of today's women kayakers might have started just as young as their foremothers,
but innovations in equipment have enabled them to climb the ladder faster, and higher,
than the women before them--especially in the world of freestyle and hairboating. Team
Pyranha member Shannon Carroll of Lynchburg, W.V., started paddling when she was
11 and turned 20 this past summer while in Colorado competing at Salida's FiBArk
Festival. In July, she wowed the crowd with a lightning fast time at the Gorge Games'
extreme race on the Upper White Salmon, and in August she ran one of the highest
waterfalls ever recorded on film. As with the Wiley's beginnings in the sport, she credits
her father for getting her on the water. "One day he came home with a bunch of kayaks
on his trailer and said I could pick one out for myself," she says. "That's how it all
started."
Benton, Tenn.'s Aleta Miller, who at 16 became a member of the 1996 Junior National
Slalom Team, has similar roots, with her parents taking her on canoe trips before she
could even walk. Now 18, Aleta, who won 1997 rodeos at the New, Ocoee and Ottawa
rivers, has even bigger dreams. "I want to be an Olympian," she says, clearly idolizing
such women paddlers as Chladek and Hearn, "and a World Champion. But most of all
what drives me is the people within this sport-they are so much fun!"
Other women comprising this new breed of boater have shown you don't have to start
young. Katie Nietert, 32, and Deb Ruehle, 30, both members of the 1997 U.S. Freestyle
Team, were well in their 20s before they put on their first spray skirt. But that hasn't
dampened their desire in the least. "In all the sports I've done in the past, my goal has
been competition," says Deb, who won the squirt boat division at 1997's Ottawa Rodeo.
"But now it's self satisfaction and adrenaline. I accomplished my largest goal by
becoming a member of the U.S. Freestyle Team last year; now what drives me is the
opportunity to meet people across the country and all over the world."
Others on the top rung of the women's ladder have simpler goals. "What keeps me
driven," says Buffy Bailey, one of the leading female kayakers on Team Perception, "is
the feeling you get after you clean a challenging rapid-when your adrenaline is pumping
and you are celebrating with your friends in the eddy below." Buffy stars in numerous
whitewater videos and searches every corner of the world for the perfect river. Her
positive and light-hearted attitude make her a favorite among both women and men
paddlers alike. "I'm doing exactly what I want to be doing at this time in my life and have
reached the level of kayaking I dreamed about when I first started," she maintains. At 25,
she has already traveled to more countries than many of her male counterparts will visit
in their lifetimes. Although she has paddled everywhere from New Zealand and Nepal to
France and Canada, she says her favorite trip was last year's Teva Tour of the U.S. and
Europe, available on video in Driftwood Productions' Liquid Lifestyles. Smithers, B.C.'s
Jodee Dixon, 24, winner of several rodeos in 1997 and '98 and a member of Team
Pyranha, has an equally modest drive. "For me, it's just to paddle to my potential," she
says. "I'm an all or nothing girl. If I'm going to do something, I want to do it right. With this
sport there is always a new challenge, and that keeps me interested and driven. I love
the satisfaction of meeting those challenges."
Tonya Shuman, 26, has only been paddling for four years but has already become
something of a glamour girl of freestyle kayaking, illustrated by her appearances in
various catalogs and Shape and Women's Sports & Fitness magazines. She also is one
of Team Wave Sport's up and coming female paddlers. Her competitive
nature--stemming from a 19-year soccer career and captaining her NCAA Varsity squad
at Villanova University--showed itself in full force last summer in the finals at Durango's
Animas River Days rodeo. "I have so many goals," she says, adding that one is linking a
40-point cartwheel. "There is so much to learn about this sport, you can never stop
learning. Anyone who boats understands that once you're on the river all worries are
gone and it is time to have fun. What drives me is that big fat smile I get each time I am
out on the river."
Competition
Whether the drive is having a clean run down a steep creek or winning a rodeo, all of
these women share the urge to compete. And no where have they shown their stuff more
than in the world of freestyle. Their approach, however, is markedly different than that of
male competitors. "One of my best memories is sitting in the eddy at Washington's
Canyon Creek Festival in 1997," says rodeo competitor Whitney Lonsdale. "All the
women were in one heat and we were all excited and rowdy. Every time someone went in
the hole we all cheered louder than anyone on shore." That camaraderie and support
wasn't just a fluke--it happens everywhere women get together to compete. But these
women also turn dead serious when they are called out of the gate. "We're not just out
there cheering for our friends and having a good time," adds Lonsdale. "You're sitting in
an eddy with people who are serious about doing well. It's a good balance."
Twenty-seven-year-old Jamie Simon is one of many women who takes her competition
seriously. She was featured in September's ESPN magazine and is one of the gender's
highest profile kayakers. Sponsored by Wave Sport, Red Bull, Werner Paddles and
Planetary Gear, among others, she is also one of the few that has managed to eke
somewhat of a living out of the sport. And for good reason. At 24, she won the 1995
World Rodeo Championships and two years later took the silver. She has also appeared
in a variety of whitewater videos--including Dashboard Burrito, Wet Ones and
Aphrodisia--and appeared on a special on the Outdoor Life Network. "The rodeo scene is
wild--like a traveling family all over the world," she says. "It's all the best people doing
their thing. I learn so much from just watching and trying to mimic moves, and I'm always
asking better boaters how they do this or that."
The woman who beat Jamie at the 1997 Worlds, 24-year-old Nicole Zaharko of Canada,
also knows what competition is all about. For Nicole, making up her mind to do well at the
Worlds was the turning point in her paddling career. "After a disappointing Pre World
competition in 1996, I felt it was time to assess where I wanted to take the sport," she
says. "Until then I was very much a recreational paddler who liked playing in holes."
Learning from her showing in 1996, Nicole realized she had to step things up a notch in
order to succeed on the rodeo circuit. "A lot of contenders had the advantage of being
able to paddle year round," she says. "so I hit the rodeo circuit with my partner Ken
Whiting. In April we drove across the U.S. and Canada paddling different rivers and
competing in various rodeos. Back home, I worked as a kayak instructor and raft guide
six days a week and trained in the evenings. I also did a 45-minute bike or jog everyday
and finished with 500 abdominal crunches. By the time the event came, I knew I was
ready physically which gave me confidence mentally." Nicole felt so good that she didn't
even warm up. She just paddled into the hole and let her training take hold. "Everything
felt right," she says. "I was calm and focused on the hole. My goal was to go out there
and look like I was in control, even if I didn't place well. To my delight I accomplished
both."
Facing Fear
A common thread in kayaking is fear and addressing it is no different for women than it is
for men. "I funnel fear into focus," says Jodee Dixon . "If I can't do that, then I don't run it."
Mary DeRiemer feels the same way, learning the lesson on a trip through Lava South
rapid on Chile's Bio Bio in 1987. "We chose a challenging line where it was easy to get
lost," she says. "But I nailed it and broke through in control. I came to realize that much
what I felt was fear of the unknown."
Just like men, these cutting edge women have varying techniques for dealing with fear.
"First of all you have to address it," says Katie Nietert, one of West Virginia's premier
female creekers. "When I wake up in the morning and it's pouring down rain I think about
where I might find myself that day. If I imagine myself scouting a waterfall in the rain with
the thermometer at 35 degrees, it's not as shocking when I am actually there. Some
people say if you are afraid you shouldn't be there. I've done lots of things while I was
afraid and most of them have turned out to be really fun. Deep breathing, visualizing my
line and smiling all help. I've learned that if I'm overwhelmingly afraid, it's a good day to
walk the dog instead of kayak."
Buffy Bailey--who paddles some of the hairiest runs around, raises a few eyebrows and
happily walks her share of rapids--has her own techniques. "To deal with fear, first
recognize it and then put it in perspective," she says. "I ask myself 'Is this rapid
paddleable based on my skill level, attitude and instincts today?' If I say yes, then
confidence takes over and the fear becomes this funny feeling in my stomach before the
lip of a drop. If I decide I shouldn't paddle the rapid, then fear is exhaled in a big, 'Phew!'
as I walk around the rapid."
Women in the Workplace
While women are becoming more and more prominent in whitewater, they are doing the
same in the workplace. Following the lead of such women as Dana Chladek, who now
runs Rapidstyle, a paddling-apparel company in Kensington, Md., Risa Shimoda
Callaway, who recently stepped down as Perception's marketing director, and Nancy
Wiley, who heads up Durango's Four Corners River Sports, a score of today's female
kayakers are finding employment in the industry. And this is born of a passion for
paddling.
Whitney Lonsdale's mother once asked her, "Just what is it exactly about this kayaking
thing that you have to do it all the time?" Whitney replied, "I don't exactly know, but there
are few other things that make me feel as good as being on the river." Now she has
found a career that keeps her on the river and enables her to share her love for the sport
with others. As Education Director for Adventure Quest, an accredited school and
paddling program based in Woodstock, Vt., Whitney has the opportunity to travel and
work with young paddlers bent on competition and exploring the world. "Each semester
we spend at least ten weeks training and traveling out of the country," she says. "For me
it's the perfect job: I get to paddle, travel and work with a great group of kids." Her
example appears to be working: three girls are currently enrolled in the Academy's
paddling program, the largest number to date.
Tonya Shuman is also managing to make a living in the industry. She and business
partner Eric Southwick run Smiley's Nose Plugs and travel the world promoting the sport
of kayaking. "It's a great business for us because we can do it on the road," she says.
Another enterprising male-female team is Katie Nietert and B.J. Johnson of Lansing,
W.V. Their company, Falling Down Productions, has produced such whitewater videos as
Wet Ones and Falling Down, and the duo provides video boating services during Gauley
season every fall. Mary DeRiemer and husband Phil have also carved a niche for
themselves in the industry. They own DeRiemer Kayaking, which provides instruction and
guided kayaking trips throughout the U.S., Honduras and Ecuador. Mary also helped
launch Nantahala Outdoor Center trips to Chile and Costa Rica, and guided eight
seasons abroad between 1984 and 1992. At 41, she's still teaching and guiding.
The other missing link now being addressed is gear that fits women's bodies.
Perception's Veronica Griner helped the company develop a new Farmer Jane series of
wetsuits tailored specifically for women. "We addressed all the needs of the female
paddler," says Griner. "Room in the hips, wide cut shoulders for expansion up top, and a
tapered design that flatters the female body." Mail order giant Northwest River Supplies
of Moscow, Idaho, and outfitter-supplier Rainbow Designs of Boulder, Colo., are right
behind Perception with wetsuits and apparel designed for women.
Whether they are paddling for fun, competition or both, one thing this new breed of
Y-chromosome kayaker has in common--despite age, size, skill or geographic location--is
a love for rivers. In this respect, they are not much different than the many males taking
to today's waterways. They are driven to become the best paddlers they can, and their
accomplishments and drive are encouraging other women to take the reins. So the next
time you're in line at your local playspot, don't assume that ponytail in front of you is
another long-haired fella'. It most likely is one of the many women setting new standards
in the world of kayaking
. --Christie Dobson is a freelance graphic artist and writer from Chattanooga, Tennessee. She enjoys rodeo
competition and creek boating in and around her Appalachian home.
Women to Watch
A New Genderation of Whitewater Kayaker
Age: 27
Years Paddling: 7
Most Proud Of: Making the U.S. Freestyle Team in 1995 and
winning the World Championships, then
coming back in 1997 for the silver.
Age: 32 Years
Years Paddling: 5
Advice For Other Women Paddlers: The beauty of kayaking is that it takes
motivation, judgement, control, poise,
tenacity, confidence, finesse, experience
and skill.
Age: 41
Years Paddling: 19
Advice For Other Women Paddlers: While you are learning a good foundation,
start reading and running rapids that
challenge but won't hurt you. If you want to
be a good boater you have to read your own
water.
Age: 24
Years Paddling: 8
Advice For Other Women Paddlers: Get the basics in a controlled environment.
Then find good partners who you can
paddle with frequently.
Favorite Rapid/River: Can't single one rapid out; they all have so
many wonderful features. One of my favorite
rivers is the Fraser near Jasper, B.C.
Age: 30
Years Paddling: 8
Advice For Other Women Paddlers: Make it fun and seek out someone who will
teach you a solid forward stroke.
Age: 18
Years Paddling: 6
Advice For Other Women Paddlers: Have fun! If it stops being fun don't do it
Age: 20
Years Paddling: 9
Rodeo Tip: Always look at the hole and you'll know where
you are.
Age: 24
Years Paddling: 6
Advice For Other Women Paddlers: Ask yourself why you like kayaking, figure
out what you gain from it and then go for it.
Age: 25
Years Paddling: 6
Most Proud Of: The friends I have met through paddling; the
kind who can tell you about the big lump of
snot coming out of your nose after a rapid,
who will pick you up from the airport four
hours away in the middle of the night, and
who you can lean on no matter how long it
has been since you've seen them.
Advice For Other Women Paddlers: You can do anything you want if you put
your heart and mind into it.
Age: 26
Years Paddling: 4
When Not Paddling: I like to spend time running and hiking with
my dog, Kota. I also like hanging out with
family and friends.
Advice For Other Women Paddlers: Have fun and don't get so competitive with
other women kayakers.
Rodeo Tip: Use your abs and your legs to pull the move
around.
Age: 28
Years Paddling: 7
This summer's celebration was not the first time Northwest natives have come together to
canoe for a cause. The tradition started in 1989 with the Paddle to Seattle as part of
Washington's Centennial celebration. This time was bigger than ever, however, with
more than 22 Northwest tribes represented; each tribe paddled its own canoe, each
adorned with native decorations. Whenever the entourage landed at one of nine sites
between Squamish and Tacoma, cedar and deerskin drums initiated a night of songs,
dances and feasts designed to commemorate long-lost traditions. Some traditions, of
course, have naturally been replaced by those more appropriate for the times. While
many canoeists paddled bareback with traditional feathered headdresses, other natives
wore T-shirts reading: "Shut up and paddle!" --edb 3
Hotline Blurbs
Even the world's best paddlers are subject to inopportune rolls. Three-time World Cup
Kayak Champion Scott Shipley knows this better than anyone; after trying to make a
difficult move at the last World Cup event of the season at La Seu d'Urgell, Spain,
Shipley flipped over and lost his chance at securing his fourth World Cup title. "The
course was very pushy and tricky," says Shipley, "and I tried to make one of the harder
moves direct and flipped. It ended up costing me the title." A strong finish would have
secured Shipley his fourth overall championship; the mistake bumped him to 18th for the
day, allowing England's Paul Ratcliffe to win the overall crown and forcing Shipley to
settle for second. In other World Cup disciplines, Cathy Hearn finished fifth overall in
K-1W; Lecky Haller and Matt Taylor finished ninth in C-2; and David Hearn finished tenth
in C-1. As well as winning the Team Trials in Wausau, Wis., and the Slalom National
Championships in South Bend, Ind., Shipley won the first World Cup event last year in
Slovakia and the fourth event in Wausau. --edb
Rafting Tragedy Spurs Regulations in Ecuador
Marking one of the worst rafting tragedies to strike the Southern Hemisphere, a
commercial raft of Belgian tourists went into a Class VI gorge on Ecuador's Rio Patate
near Baños last June, killing all four passengers. Although details remain sketchy, reports
indicate an unlicensed outfitter--who purchased two old rafts and carved paddles out of
wood to run trips--called in an untrained guide the day of the trip, who went past the
take-out on a Class III run. After seeing the guide miss the take-out, the company's
owner pulled over and had one of his passengers hold his raft while he ran downstream
to help. The passenger could not keep a grip on the raft and it floated, unguided, into the
gorge below.
Investigations found that neither the operator nor the guide were trained, and that the
clients did not receive a safety briefing prior to the trip. The existence of the operation
and ensuing tragedy has stepped up the process of regulating river operations in
Ecuador, with talks in progress between the Ecuadorian Whitewater Guides Association
and local authorities on the nature of the new regulations. Their aim is clear: to ensure
only qualified persons run commercial whitewater trips in Ecuador. The first step will be to
license current guides and ensure that all new guides meet required safety standards.
--Steve Nomchong
Whitesell Retires
Open boaters saving their pennies for a Whitesell Canoe better break their piggy banks
soon: the last chance to order is November 1999. After hand-building some of the world's
best whitewater canoes for nearly 15 years, Bryson City, N.C.-based Nolan Whitesell is
retiring. "The next decade is my decade to be on the river," says the 45-year-old
Whitesell. "I'm not saying I'll never build boats again, but I am scaling down the
business." Whitesell is known as one of the premier open boaters in the country, claiming
such first descents as Niagara Gorge at 100,000 cfs and the first open-boat descent of
the North Fork of the Payette in 1987. Although he has been building and paddling his
own designs since the mid-'70s, he didn't incorporate Canoes by Whitesell until 1984,
with the company quickly branching beyond boat- and paddle-building into instruction and
rentals. Inevitably, Whitesell found himself spending more time at the workbench and less
time on the water. "I intend to get back at it," he says. "In the year 2000 I'm committing to
being on the river more and in the shop less." This isn't the end of the journey for Canoes
by Whitesell, however-he is currently searching for the right person to come in and take
over the reins. --ahb
OARS Helps Create Powell Documentary
Paddlers taking to the Colorado River's Cataract and Grand canyons this summer might
have noticed film crews along on their floats. Angels Camp, Calif.'s OARS helped two
historical documentary projects get off the ground and into the water last year by handling
on-river logistics for PBS's The American Experience and German Public Television's
Journey Through Hell series. Work with the documentaries began in fall '97 with two
scouting trips, followed by filming last summer of three replica Powell boats built by Utah
boat builder Paul Nibley. "The story of Major Powell's expeditions are legendary among
river runners," says OARS General Manager Russell Walters. "We're glad we could be
involved with two projects that followed his early expeditions." --edb
Not many canoe journeys rival the 4,000-mile-long cross-country expedition undertaken
by Meriwether Lewis and William Clark in 1804--and not many museums rival the new
Lewis and Clark National Historic Trail Interpretive Center that opened July 4 in Great
Falls, Mont. Built into a bluff overlooking the Missouri River, which Lewis and Clark
traveled in an attempt to find an all-water route to the Northwest, the $6 million museum
showcases a 30-foot-long cottonwood canoe being portaged on a wooden cart, an
authentic Mandan Lodge, a Shoshone teepee, a Nez Perce willow-frame fish trap and
other Native displays. These displays, says museum director Jane Weber, help show the
"balanced story line" of the role natives played in the expedition's success. "Our main
theme is Lewis and Clark traveling through a peopled land," she says, adding that in its
first three months the museum tallied more than 40,000 visitors. For more information,
call (406) 727-8733. --edb
Slalom Gets Nod for 2004 Olympics
Unlike the on-again-off-again nature of canoe and kayak slalom's inclusion in the 2000
Olympic Games in Sydney, Australia, the sport recently received the blessing of the
International Olympic Committee (IOC) to be included in the 2004 Games in Athens,
Greece. At a recent International Canoe Federation (ICF) meeting, ICF President Ulrich
Feldhoff of Germany announced he had met with IOC President Juan Antonio
Samaranch and was assured canoe and kayak slalom events would be on the 2004
Olympic program. Samaranch's commitment confirms a letter solicited by Richard Fox
from the Athens Organizing Committee to the ICF stating that if they were awarded the
games, they would host the slalom disciplines. "Given the problems we had for Sydney,"
says United States Canoe and Kayak Team (USCKT) President Terry Kent, "the USCKT
will continue to ask the ICF to lobby IOC for slalom's inclusion in future Games." --edb
CIA Canoeing Commuter Passes Away The paddling world lost one of its most ardent
canoe commuters Aug. 3 with the passing of John Seabury Thomson, 77, an intelligence
analyst and Far East expert who regularly canoed to his job at the Central Intelligence
Agency. Nearly every weekday morning from the early 1960s until he retired from the CIA
in 1976, Thomson canoe-commuted across the Potomac River from the Sycamore Island
Canoe Club, south of Glen Echo, to the Virginia shore. His unusual commuting
practices--especially for a CIA agent once targeted for death and ransomed in
China--were first brought to the world's attention in the early '60s in a story in the New
York Times and other national publications. Since then, he authored "A Guide to Safe
Canoeing Above Washington," served as chairman of the Canoe Cruisers Association of
Greater Washington, taught canoeing and organized paddling events along the Potomac.
--edb
New Hard-Guy Record
Some athletes just don't know when to stop. At least that's the case with Spain's Sergio
Ferrero Di Muresanu, who established a new triple quadriathlon record recently in Santa
Barbara, Calif., by swimming 20 km, kayaking 80 km, biking 400 km and running 80
km--non-stop in 47 hours and 23 minutes. Deciding to stage his event in Santa Barbara
to remember long-time friend Frank Sinatra and drum up interest for the obscure
energy-depleting sport of triple quadriathlon, Ferrero finished the 80-km kayaking leg in
nine hours, 47 minutes--after a seven-hour, 23-minute shark-infested swim. From there it
was on to 19 hours and 30 minutes on the bike before finishing with a leisurely 10-hour,
44-minute run. --edb
Travel Discounts for Paddlers
If international expeditions and competitions have left you cash-poor, look into the new
Fitness Travel Card (FTC) discount card which, among other things, offers a 50 percent
discount on canoe and kayak passage on airlines for boat-toting paddlers. For a $74.95
annual fee, FTC members receive unlimited access to RacePlanner.com, the largest race
information and registration website; members also can book travel reservations directly
through the FTC Ticketing Desk. Continental, TWA and Delta airlines, as well as Alamo
and Avis car rentals and over 10,000 hotels all provide additional benefits to paddling
cardholders. Visit www.fitnesstravel.com for more information. --ahb
Thinking Ahead
circumnavigation in 1997, in which he raised $50,000, this year he did it again, with
backing from Genovese Drug Stores and other organizations. When the final checks are
tallied, he hopes this year's Row-for-a-Cure total will approach $100,000. "People were
coming up in yachts as I paddled past them and writing me checks on the water," says
the 45-year-old lifeguard. "Everything went great...except for the weather."
Indeed, this time around Mother Nature made sure Shalvoy earned every cent. Assuming
the winds would come out of the Southwest, as they normally do, Shalvoy planned his
circumnavigation accordingly, paddling counter-clockwise around the island. The winds
changed, however, and came out of the East, throwing a white-capped monkey wrench
into his carefully laid plans. "It was like a living Hell," he says. "I don't think anyone has
seen winds come out of the East that many days in a row." Although the winds turned a
seven-day paddle into an arduous nine, Shalvoy met the challenge head on--at least until
another curveball popped up out of the blue. This time it was the White House instead of
the wind: with President Clinton visiting the Hamptons near Wainscott, N.Y., over the
same weekend, authorities enforced a no boat/security zone directly in Shalvoy's path.
Eventually New York Senator Alfonse D'Amato stepped in and secured clearance for
Shalvoy to continue. "Originally they said I had to row around the barricade," says
Shalvoy. "But I finally got permission to row along the security zone with a Coast Guard
escort. It was only four extra miles, but by that time we were so far behind schedule that
every mile counted."
--For more information on Shalvoy's Row for Breast Cancer, call (212) 843-8040. --edb
"We've got our gunsights on your forehead, put your hands in the air and get out of your
boat," isn't the usual greeting tourists receive as they pull up to the Mexican Hat take-out
on the San Juan River. But that's exactly what happened last summer as Sheriff's
deputies and SWAT teams closed in on the river corridor and its access points, where
two survivalist fugitives were believed to be hiding out after a serious crime spree in
southern Colorado. The rafters in question were ordered to drop their oars and march to
shore, without even having time to tie up their boats. "One of the clients was freaked out
enough that he couldn't even get out of his boat," says Moab Rafting's Pat Robinson,
whose company was guiding the trip.
"He just sat there shaking his head." The San Juan River became the target of the desert
manhunt after law enforcement officials evacuated the town of Bluff, Utah, in early June.
Authorities closed access to the river and set up armed observation points, attempting to
locate the pair of accused cop killers. Locals reported five to 10 helicopters canvassing
the river's canyons for several days following a possible sighting of the men, as well as
members of the National Guard, special weapons teams and the San Juan County
Sheriff's department. These forces joined more than 40 lawmen from Colorado, the FBI,
and Navajo Indian Reservation trackers--whose land borders the river.
Having guns drawn on their clients at the take-out wasn't the manhunt's only effect on the
area's rafting companies. Customers were scared off, trips were cut short, and permits
were cancelled. "Economically, I don't think we lost more than couple thousand dollars,"
says Robinson. "But we did have a lot of people offer to bring their own guns. It definitely
threw a kink in things."
During the second of two river closures, area ranger Mark Maloy paddled down the
canyon and directed everyone to the take-out. One group of boaters from Park City had
their trip aborted when they reached Sand Island and were evacuated directly to the San
Juan field office-and told to stay put for several hours.
About 10 commercial outfitters operating on the San Juan were affected by the closures.
Utah's Wild Rivers was one who experienced losses from the incident, as day-trip
cancellations rolled in from tourists either evacuated or scared out of Bluff. The manhunt
also put pressure on river managers who struggled to ensure the safety of visitors and
get information to outfitters and permit holders. "We had no control over whether the river
was closed or open," says BLM planner Robin Fehlau, adding that officials had to stop
people from putting in at the launch ramp. "The difficulty was contacting people who were
heading here and people who were already on the river. We had to deal with some irate
people." Although the closures were dictated by law enforcement agencies, not river
managers, the BLM did its best to smooth things over. For a period after the incident,
permit holders were offered refunds, permits on other area rivers such as the Deso-Gray,
or accommodated on the San Juan at a later date.
As with trackers scouring the Southwest for Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid,
however, the manhunt and river closure proved fruitless; as of press time, the fugitives
were still on the run. --ahb
Those who think canoeing flatwater doesn't require fortitude might want to resurrect the
controversial sport of canoe tilting.
Originating in the early 1930s, canoe tilting pits two paddlers standing atop the bows of
canoes against one another in a battle of blows with padded, eight-foot-long spruce
poles. While competitors joust, accomplices in the stern J-stroke to keep the canoe in
place. The origins of the sport are unclear (it might have stemmed from canoe polers
encroaching on each other's territory), but its rules are straightforward: the first one in the
drink loses. If a contestant gets knocked into the boat, it constitutes a foul; three fouls and
you're also out.
The undisputed champion of the sport was Bill Havens, an elementary school teacher
from Vienna, Va., who defended his title more than 500 times, losing only once to his
brother Frank, a gold medallist in the 1952 Olympics in 10,000-meter one-man canoe. Bill
won his first canoe-tilting title in 1936 at age 16, and went on to topple people twice his
age and up to 50 pounds heavier. Until 1938 the crown could only be lost in an annual
regatta sponsored by the American Canoe Association (ACA). After that, a rule change
enabled the crown to be lost in any competition the champ entered. Bill retained his title
every year from 1936 to 1952, except when he was dethroned by Frank in 1947 at the
ACA regatta at Sugar Island on the St. Lawrence River. The next day, however,
Bill--whose trademark was wedging his pole across a competitor's stomach and prying
him into the water--whacked his brother upside the noggin' and regained the canoe-tilting
crown.
As usual when confronted with Caller ID, I wasn't prepared for the answer when Mike
picked up the phone. "I threw four points yesterday," he said, before even saying hello.
"First time ever." That he knew it was me beforehand was one thing. That he began the
conversation by talking about his point-throwing prowess was another.
Mike's wife, Alicia, had just given birth, prompting my call. Mike, however, had more
important things to discuss. Anyone can have a baby. The real story was linking his first
four-pointer.
Mike's comment referred to swapping ends, a new-school rodeo maneuver that has
caught on with as much fanfare as the Makarena and pierced body parts. The concept is
simple: instead of throwing old-fashioned endos, which are now passé, you continue
throwing them, jumping from your bow to your stern like a slinky going downstairs. As
with cowboys riding end-swapping broncs, contestants simply hang on for the ride,
spurring things along with quick dips of the paddle. No matter what you call this new
craze--cartwheeling, tossing ends or throwing points--it has turned the sport, as well as
its participants, end over end. Take Mike, for instance. His wife just had a baby, and
before mentioning anything about it he went straight into his latest cartwheel
accomplishment. I felt like offering him a cigar--not for the baby, but for his four-pointer.
For rodeo paddlers, of course, all this is old hat--like someone only now starting a Beanie
Baby collection. And they are no doubt rolling their eyes for devoting a column to
something they can do in their sleep. For run-of-the-mill paddlers like Mike and myself,
however, swapping ends has become the Holy Grail of paddling. The craze has garnered
such a following, in fact, that it probably won't be long until bumper stickers carry such
slogans as Swap Ends or Swap Sports, Toss Ends 'til You Toss Cookies and Swap 'til
You Drop.
Like cashing in on any new fad, of course, you first have to be able to talk the talk. If
end-swapping has breathed new life into playboating, it's done the same to the sport's
vocabulary. Take a Walt Blackadar from the past and time-machine him to a 1998
playhole and he would have a hard time recognizing the sport: Dude, let's go toss; Let's
swap it up; Let's hit some points; Let's link; Let's throw down. Getting the jargon down,
however, is the easy part. Actually throwing down is another matter.
Jumping on the end-swapping bandwagon isn't as easy as experts make it look. Mike
and I found this out when we hopped on the swap train earlier this year. Fed up with
watching mortgageless whippersnappers link ends as effortlessly as a butcher links
sausage, we realized if we didn't join the craze, we'd be dinosaurs in the dust. The first
step, we learned, was to get a boat that swaps. To that end, we procured Wave Sport X
boats, whose duckbilled-bows make them one of the most swap-friendly boats on the
market. Although we quickly learned we didn't have to paddle into Crystal-sized holes
anymore to link ends, the new boats didn't turn us into instant end-swappers right away.
As with any old dogs learning new tricks, we had to progress down a steep, water-logged
learning curve. I found this out when I paddled into my first end-swapping pour-over.
"Swap me, baby!" I yelled, confident that by talking the talk the boat would walk the walk.
"Drink me, baby!" the water replied as it caught my upstream edge and promptly threw
me on my head like a Greco-Roman wrestler.
The problem is that end-swapping goes against everything you were ever taught about
paddling. Don't just peel out--let the boat catch your edge. Don't brace--use your paddle
to propel you into a less stable position. It would be one thing if I were a complete spaz;
then I might expect a solid trashing. But I could stick cartwheels as a kid in gymnastics
class, and even managed a round-off, back-handspring or two in my prime. I've also
done similar maneuvers in a kayak, just never intentionally.
Forget any of these steps, of course, and say hello to Atlantis. This led to acquiring my
the next piece of equipment on the end-swapping list: noseplugs. Forget your
sinus-pinchers, especially when learning, and resign yourself to spending the shuttle
talking like Mickey Mouse on helium. Which brings up another point that goes against the
grain of most old-schoolers: nowadays, you don't even have to drive shuttle. You simply
show up at a hole and start throwing down; instead of going boating, you go swapping.
One paddler I met this summer actually knew how to swap ends before he knew how to
roll.
Eventually I started to catch on--but not without help. After picking the minds of every
end-swapping whippersnapper on the river, I sought advice from such gyrating gurus as
Eric Jackson, Dan Brabec, Chris Emerick, Andy Bedingfield, Allen Braswell and others
with overly developed end-swapping lobes. I picked their cartwheel-wielding craniums
fervently, trying to figure out the nuances of a seemingly simple looking maneuver. Look
at the hole longer, they advised. Pry down closer to your boat, they admonished. Take a
deeper breath, they offered whenever I got spanked.
Like a short golf putt, the first end, I learned, is a gimme', like getting one kick on a hacky
sack. Only a total dork brags about throwing one point. Swapping one end is no more
skillful than mastering the first half of a roll; it's getting the boat to come back around
that's hard. Getting the second end is a lot like getting a second date. Once you do so,
you know you're in the hunt. Unfortunately, that's also when you can get the door
slammed in your face. And in end-swapping this comes in the form of a dunking. That's
where the dating analogy ends. If you get a second date, chances are good you'll get a
third. Not so with end-swapping. Jumping from your second to third point is like
progressing from This Land is Your Land to Jimmy Hendrix's Star Spangled Banner on
guitar. Only when you get the third end to come around can you frame your School of
Swapdom diploma on the wall. On the bright side, the next ones usually follow in quick
succession; before you know it you'll be counting exponentially, popping Dramamine and
whipping the water into a blended frenzy.
Manufacturers, of course, are fueling this by adorning swap-specific boats with such
names as the Vertigo and RPM. Boats with names like Cookie Toss and Delirious are
probably not far behind.
Before the sport reaches this point and cartwheels out of control, you can get ahead of
the game by hopping on the end-swapping bandwagon. Mike and I did, and we no longer
feel like we should be popping Geritol at a Generation X prom. Like Mike, I too even
linked my first four-pointer at the end of the season...oh yeah...and did I mention that my
wife is having a baby in February?
Every spring in the Sierra Nevadas, snow begins its age-old search for sea level, raising
the water levels of such California classics as the American, Tuolumne and Kern. Often
helped by rains, it also raises the levels of these rivers' headwaters and tributaries, many
of which are attracting experienced boaters looking for the path less traveled.
Although the water level is lower on these creeks (anywhere from 150 to 500 cfs), the
stakes are usually higher. Their gradient often exceeds 200 feet per mile, and ratings
range from Class IV-V+, many with mandatory portages to boot. For the properly
prepared, however, this high-gradient, low-volume creekin' has added a wealth of new
waterways to a state already saturated with paddling options.
Following is a sampler of a few creeks that have emerged as California classics in their
own right. All of these runs, and many more, are documented in Lars Holbek and Chuck
Stanley's third edition guidebook, The Best Whitewater in California ($19.95, plus $2
shipping, Watershed Books, Box 63, Coloma, CA 95613; (530) 621-3154), which gives
detailed information on everything from run length and portages to mile-by-mile gradient.
Be forewarned, however, that they are for extremely experienced paddlers only; take
their ratings and descriptions as a guide only and be ready for anything.
Brush Creek (Class IV, Avg. Gradient: 362 fpm)
A tributary of the Upper Kern, Brush Creek's tall falls and lengthy slides will fulfill any
creeker's fantasies. Look forward to a two-hour ride down ramps, waterfalls and slots.
Many clean vertical waterfalls and shallow slides pour out of a mini-gorge that can be
seen from the access road on the way to the put-in. Two notable drops are so narrow that
paddles must be lined up with the boat or they will either knock your teeth out or be left
behind. Sound like a whitewater playground? It is. And it's not just for the elite.
"As a forgiving Class IV, Brush Creek is a perfect introduction to steep creekin'," explains
Tom Moore, co-owner of Sierra South, a full service paddle shop in nearby Kernville.
"Brush can be run during spring runoff and wet winter storms, but be cautious with water
levels as the difficulty rating increases to Class V at flows over 200 cfs."
To get to Brush Creek, follow Hwy 190 out of Kernville towards the Upper Kern. Just
before the put-in of the Kern's Limestone Run is the Sherman Pass road; drive up it a
couple miles to the Brush Creek heli-pad, a large pullout on the right side of the road.
Just beyond this heli-pad is a dirt road where you can drive down to the river. A word of
warning: the put-in requires boating through a trashy tunnel of brush to reach the goods.
To avoid the worst of the brush that is this creek's namesake, most boaters park at the
heli-pad and hike down a 400-yard trail to the sweet spot in the canyon. Take out at Hwy
190 or zip out into the mainstream of the Kern and finish with the last half of the
Limestone run.
Dry Meadow Creek (Class V+, Avg. Gradient: 400 fpm)
Possibly one of the most memorable creeks so far discovered in California, Dry Meadow
is stitched with a series of waterfalls plunging into perfectly polished potholes drilled into
the granite over the course of time. Down in the crease of this drainage, paddlers drip
from the rim of each pothole into the next. If there's heaven on earth, or tea cups in
America, this is it.
As sweet as it sounds, running Dry Meadow Creek is an epic adventure that involves a
myriad of skills that far surpass the requirements of most creek runs. Nestled in the
crotch of a smooth, water-sculpted canyon, portaging on this creek is both amazingly
arduous and mandatory. Be as skilled at smearing up a slippery friction climb with your
kayak in one hand as you are at running 20-foot waterfalls, because that is precisely what
you'll find down there in that dreamy canyon.
Moore warns, "The drops are easy to scout from the top of the gorge, but once you're in
there, you're committed. You need to remember where the moves are because the drops
are blind at river level. Definitely go with someone who's familiar with the run."
The grand finale of Dry Meadow Creek involves a mandatory portage around a potentially
fatal falls before merging with the last mile of the famous Forks of the Kern run. Once on
the Forks of the Kern, be ready for a contrasting wake-up call with respectable water
flows lapping at your sprayskirt and the adrenaline-pumping Carson Falls lurking right
around the corner from the confluence.
To get to the put-in from Kernville, take Hwy 190 upstream, across the Johnsondale
bridge to Lloyd Meadow Road. About five miles along this road is the headwaters of the
Dry Meadow Creek drainage. Put in at the road and bash your way through a few miles
of Class V bushes to reach the most divine notch the Sierra's have to offer. Because
permits are required to run the Forks of the Kern, boaters coming out of Dry Meadow
Creek are responsible for obtaining the proper permit from the U.S. Forest Service in
Kernville. Take out at the Johnsondale Bridge. Since the run involves such an effort,
Moore advises on planning a full day out on the creek, just in case things don't go as
planned.
Sespe Creek (Class V, Avg. Gradient: 78 fpm)
Drive an hour-and-a-half north from L.A. and contrast the clamor of the city with the
remoteness of Sespe Creek. A 35-mile run, the Sespe winds through the scenic and
secluded Sespe Wilderness Area and the Sespe Condor Sanctuary, home to 17
endangered condors.
The relatively benign average gradient of the Sespe needs some explanation before
luring paddlers into thinking the run is flat and, therefore, less demanding. From the put-in
at Lion Campground off Hwy 33 near the town of Ojai, day one of the Sespe slips along a
mellow course through many Class II-III rapids, intermingled with an occasional IV,
before turning south at Alder Creek where the action begins. From this point, most likely
into day two, the river plunges down the canyon to the take out, with the steepest mile
(191 fpm) occurring near the end of the run. In between Alder Creek and the take out at
the Hwy 126 bridge lies a multitude of Class IV-V rapids too numerous to count.
Also too numerous to count are the portages on this trip. One portage in particular, about
half-way between Alder Creek and the take out, has a reputation of lasting hours and
requiring ropes (although some have managed to cut this down to a 30-minute ordeal).
As a warning to this portage-fest, massive purple boulders lay jumbled at river level just
below Tar Creek, one of the many places along the Sespe that has natural petroleum
oozing out of the ground. Undercut boulders, wicked sieves and logs constitute the other
10 to 15 portages on this run. Since house-sized boulders obscure the view when eddy
scouting, Southern California boater Preston Holmes advises, "Approach [the Sespe] as
if it were a first descent."
But don't let the walking outweigh the advantages. The Sespe is truly a one-of-a-kind
experience; the allure of condors, seeping springs of natural tar, and the Sespe's winding
course through enormous purple boulders create a surrealistic scene hard to duplicate.
It's hard to imagine that a three-day wilderness trip through one of the most inaccessible
areas of the state lies so near L.A.
South Fork of the Merced (Class V, Avg. Gradient: 110 fpm)
Known for its long, silvery slides, the South Fork of the Merced dives 2,500 feet over 24
isolated miles. Due to its remoteness and length, between the pine thickets of Yosemite
National Park and the old oaks of the Sierra foothills, the South Merced is a commitment
not easily broken. Expect an enticing wilderness endeavor laced with excellent
whitewater and unspoiled scenery. Although the South Merced has been paddled in one
long, tiring day, it is usually tackled as a self-supported overnight.
In contrast to other California creeks, the South Merced has a larger river channel that
allows boaters to paddle on juicier flows. Darrin O'Connor, a guide on the Tuolumne
River and Class V kayaker, explains, "I've run it as low as 400 cfs and at that flow some
of the runnable drops became portages. The whole run has been linked, with no
portages, at optimum flows, which would be somewhere between 700 and 900 cfs."
From the tiny town of Wawona, under the shade of Yosemite's giant trees, leave behind
the clamor of Hwy 41 and enter into a private world of Class V boating. When the river
bends to the west, be ready to encounter an invigorating gorge that keeps you and the
water moving in a downward spiral. Besides some sheer vertical drops and the typical
Class V turbulence, there are three noteworthy slides on this run; the largest has been
dubbed "Super Slide" for its resemblance to an amusement park ride.
After spending all of your concentration and adrenaline on the first 15 miles, look forward
to a relatively relaxing float on the remaining seven miles of Class III-IV whitewater. If
trouble spoils your day in the canyon, look for a hiking trail that runs high above river-right
for an escape route, otherwise take out at the confluence of the South Fork and the Main
Fork of the Merced on Rte 140. You can even look forward to the shuttle; the drive winds
through a portion of Yosemite Valley and under the looming heights of the Park's rocky
precipices.
Silver Fork of the South Fork of the American
A side creek flowing into the upper reaches of the South Fork of the American, the busy
Silver Fork charges through an unspoiled gap filled with huge Incense Cedars and Jeffery
Pines. At river level, where bedrock is exposed, the canyon gets steep and forms several
mini-gorges that make the boating lively and portaging rigorous. Choose a swathe of
water in this canyon to find a run that suits your tastes.
Upper Run (Class V, Avg. Gradient: 191 fpm)
If the Upper is on your agenda, expect a fun, bouncy ride through technical rapids and
over drops and slides. Many paddlers devise their own runs on the Upper by hiking down
to various sections of the creek and taking out at the bridge upstream from the Forest
Service campground. To link the run, put in at the uppermost bridge and paddle down to
the Forest Service amphitheater. Even though this run is only a few miles long, be
prepared for a long day on the river with lots of rapids and scouting. Look for flows in the
150-500 cfs range.
Lower Run (Class V+, Avg. Gradient: 236 fpm)
Scamper your way through a survey of creek features: slides, waterfalls and boulder
choked cascades. With gradient that compares to that of a ski hill, the attitude of the
Lower is more feisty and less forgiving than the Upper. Phil Boyer, a kayak videographer
and local boater from South Lake Tahoe, estimates that optimum flows for the Lower are
in the 400-500 cfs range. "Any more water than that and the creek gets a little pushy," he
says. "It can also be run at low flows, around 150 cfs, just expect more portages. It's bony
but definitely still worth doing."
After the put-in at the campground just downstream of the Forest Service amphitheater,
the canyon splits away from the road and marches into a wilderness canyon; don't expect
an easy bail out when you get to the second mile of the run, where the gradient dives
away at 400 feet per mile. Take out three miles downstream from the put-in, just past the
Silver Fork Cafe on the South Fork of the American.
Though a quality section of water, both runs on the Silver Fork are dangerous. The Upper
run contains a few hideous rock sieves that require portaging. The first is visible from the
bridge at the put-in and the second occurs about three-quarters of the way down. Take a
long, hard look at all the drops at low water so you can see where the deadly potholes,
sieves and strainers are.
The Lower has the usual Class V+ problems. Look for at least two portages on this run.
The first lies at the entrance of a gorge about a third of a mile into the run and the second
is right in the core of the run. Take each drop one by one with caution or walk the whole
intimidating deal, high on the right bank. The last big drop in this cluster has been run, but
is notorious for breaking boats and ankles.
To get to the Silver Fork from the town of Kyburz on Hwy 50, follow the paved Silver Fork
road about three miles to a Forest Service parking lot, just past a campground. From
here, commit yourself to the solitude and turmoil of the Lower Run or continue upstream
to the Upper Silver Fork. Check with Kayak Tahoe in nearby South Lake Tahoe for the
latest local reports.
Pauley Creek (Class IV+, Avg. Gradient: 146 fpm)
Put the glare of the Sierra's gray granite in your rearview mirror and travel north to
Downieville. Snuggled along the banks of the North Fork of the Yuba, Downieville is truly
a boater's dream town with quality whitewater in all directions. Gurgling out of the back
40 and right through the center of town is the Downie River, the mainspring of two creeks
big on gradient.
Pauley Creek, the more popular of the two, leads you on a three-hour tour through a
shady, moss-coated canyon. Pauley has carved a route so deep that, when boating
through it, you feel like you've been swallowed up by the earth, squeezed down the
esophagus, digested and finally passed through to the exit. While in the bowels of this
run, boof your way over a few drops in the eight- to 10-foot range and one squeaky clean
17-footer that flops into a dark, calm pool. At high water, this waterfall turns into a
monstrous ledge hole, with a decent portage on the left--Gold Country creekin' at its
finest!
At the only intersection in Downieville, take Main Street along the banks of the Downie
River. Cross the bridge and leave the take out vehicle at the Pauley Falls public parking
area next to the public utility building. Continue up the road to a trailhead called Second
Divide. Hike up the trail until you find a suitable spot for thrashing down to the water.
Boating from the Second Divide to Pauley Falls should take three to four hours, including
scouting, in flows around the 200-400 cfs range. It's possible to tack on extra length to
this creek by using the Third Divide trail, further up the road.
Lavezzola Creek (Class IV+, Avg. Gradient: 121 fpm)
As Pauley Creek's next door neighbor, Lavezzola sports the same features in scenery,
yet differs in its whitewater character. In contrast to Pauley's more straightforward
personality, Lavezzola wears a more technical face with boulders in the channel and
decisions to make. This doesn't mean the creek isn't steep; it just requires more
maneuvering. The most interesting section comes just before the confluence with the
Downie River about three-quarters of the way into the run. Here, the creek confines and
leads to an eight-foot-high crack-in-the-rock drop just wide enough to fit most kayaks at
low water. Other hazards include partially submerged bridge debris in the middle, a
log-clustered landslide at the end, and interesting characters living off the land anywhere
in between.
From Downieville, follow directions to Pauley Falls. Continue up Main Street, past the
Second Divide at Pauley Creek. Not far beyond the put-in for Pauley, the road drops into
the next canyon and crosses Lavezzola Creek. Put in at the bridge or about a mile further
up at the Third Divide trailhead. Taking on this extra mile or so adds some classic
creekin' to this run with a series of bedrock ledges and interesting boulder hopping. Use
the same take out at Pauley Falls, near the outskirts of town. A tranquil community,
where the elevation exceeds the population, Downieville is still in the throws of gold
discovery. There is not much of a local boating population and those coming into town
drinking micro brews, looking for lattes and wearing polypro stick out like cowboys in a
discotheque. Also, because the river still bears gold, the locals are especially protective
of their private land and access points; please respect their rights.
Slate Creek (Class V+, Avg. Gradient: 215 fpm)
Just north of Shasta Lake and squeezed between the cleavage of Mt. Shasta and the
Trinity Alps, Slate Creek drives its way through a volcanic landscape, a scene much
different than the runs in the Sierras. Dark and lush, like the creeks near Downieville,
Slate takes you on an action-packed ride through nearly every type of creekin'
characteristic: steep boulder gardens, bedrock boofs and vertical falls--roughly in that
order. The first mile-and-a-half bubbles through many steep, technical, boulder-choked
rapids, followed by a mile of Class IV-V bedrock drops which lead to the crux: a Class V+
rapid that can be portaged on the left bank. Shortly after the Class V+ comes another
highlight of the trip: 17-foot Black Jack Falls. Unlike Pauley Creek's straightforward
17-footer, Black Jack has a tricky entry and a Class III-IV run-out.
While Slate Creek may sound like utopia to creekers, it is not flawless. The drainage
doesn't service snow melt terrain and the window for favorable flows is unpredictable and
flashy; most of the time it's too low and a lot of the time it's too high. Michael Kirwin,
owner of Osprey Outdoors Kayak School in Mt. Shasta, warns, "If the ground is saturated
and it's still raining, stay out of there--it's a very serious creek...always moving and there's
always rapids. Too much water would make this creek very dangerous." Kirwin estimates
that optimum flow falls between the 200-400 cfs range and advises to scout any blind
drops or corners because simple Class III can quickly usher you into Class V. Also,
because the area is heavily forested, new log jams can develop at anytime.
To reach the put-in, travel on Interstate 5, just north of Shasta Lake, and take the La
Moine exit and drive up Slate Creek Rd. about four miles. Put in at the first bridge that
crosses Slate Creek. The only legal take out is reached by merging with the Sacramento
and taking out a few hundred yards downstream from the confluence. Any other take out
requires trespassing through private property. This also holds true for the entire run; once
on the creek, stay there and mind your own business. Because of the random flows,
Slate Creek is not a trip that can be planned for. Instead of making it a destination, make
it an added bonus to the must-do runs in the area: The Upper Sacramento's Box Canyon,
Burnt Ranch Gorge on the Trinity, the Salmon, and many more. Be sure to stop in at
North Country Canoe and Kayak in Redding for some local input on what's flowing.
Whether it was El Niño's floodwater that planted the seed or not, swiftwater rescue was
on my mind last year. How long before I would come around a bend and find a
foot-entrapped boater, wrapped raft or worse? Did I really have the skills it would take to
become part of the solution rather than adding to the problem?
I had done a few basic whitewater rescue classes in the past, either with employers or
through university outdoor programs, but only enough to swim a small rapid or two, flip a
boat, and learn cursory rope rigging systems indoors. More involved classes always
seemed daunting--too expensive and too far away. So when I met a paramedic that
recommended Rescue 3 as a source for reasonably priced swiftwater rescue classes, I
made the call and registered.
Rescue 3 has been around since the late '70s. The program offers a wide range of
classes in rescue techniques for moving water, high and low angle terrain, ocean surf,
helicopter rescue, and even technical animal rescue. Originally the company focused on
training such agencies as fire departments or search and rescue groups; now it makes
the same courses available to anyone who meets the class prerequisites of CPR and
First Aid certification.
Swiftwater Rescue Technician I is a three-day course; day one is spent in the classroom
followed by two days in the field. In late May I arrived at the fire department in Oakridge,
Ore., and met my instructor, Kim Little, the owner of Rescue 3 New Zealand now working
in rafting and swiftwater rescue in Wenatchee, Wash. My fellow students were members
of the Oakridge fire department and Forest Service employees, and most had some type
of paddling experience.
Day One
There's always some question in the back of one's mind about whether a class that costs
a couple hundred bucks will be worth the money, and the answer to that question hinges
heavily on the instructor. Little put me at ease by diving right into coursework after filling
us in on his background--outfitter, EMT, rescue-for-hire man, and body recovery
professional. He was a hands-on kind of guy and wasted no time.
Day one fundamental rescue concepts include: how much risk to assume, rescue
philosophy and methodology, and standards of care and liability. These abstract
discussions are followed by more nuts and bolts: whitewater hydrology and river hazard
assessment; rescuer/victim dynamics and behaviors: how not to be a victim; basic knots
and ropework; essential gear: ropes, hardware and personal equipment; helicopter
rescue: when to use, when to avoid and why; and vehicular rescue: anchoring and
approaching submerged vehicles.
Throughout the first day's lectures, Little provided insight into swiftwater rescue that only
an experienced technician could offer, making the chalkboard and textbook session both
practical and realistic. "You've got to know when not to go in," he said, adding that
one-third of all drownings involve a rescuer. "Your safety comes first, and then the safety
of your mates. The victim is your last priority. That guy got himself into that mess, you
didn't."
On day two we immediately suited up for the 40-degree water of the Middle Fork of the
Willamette. We had a full day's worth of fieldwork ahead of us and Little wasted no time
getting us in the water. Participants should dress warmer than they might expect-the
amount of time practicing in-river drills will make you shiver.
Day two delved into the following: throwbag basics: primary and secondary throw
methods; self rescue techniques: eddy catching, passive/active swimming; techniques for
rescuing responsive and unresponsive passive victims; foot entrapment and vertical boat
pin extrication; "Continuous loop" rope shuttle technique for controlled deepwater
crossings; shallow water-crossing techniques: solo, small group, large group; and strainer
avoidance and extrication techniques.
Realism was the theme for the day's drill work. Passive victims really did act passive to
test strength and skill. Foot entrapment and vertical pin drills were mocked-up in fast
moving water and were designed for rescue from one bank, since a river narrow enough
to work from both sides is rare. We rigged a strainer out of a stout log and floated into it
the wrong way first, pinning ourselves to ensure our understanding of how bad it could
potentially be. Then we swam it again correctly.
Next, we returned to the fire station for indoor practice on rope anchoring, tensioning
systems and mechanical advantage principles. I left knowing how to rig a wrapped boat
and a zip line without worry, and managed to bump technical rope systems out of the "I
just don't get it" category where I still park orienteering and calculus. Before the day was
over we covered: anchors for tensioning systems and zip lines, including natural anchors,
friction anchors and equalized multiple anchors; and mechanical advantage: Z-Drag (3:1
advantage) and Pig Rig (4:1 advantage), both accomplished with minimal
gear--carabiners, prussic loops and webbing.
Day three was technical. Our indoor, rope systems practice was tested on the water, and
what could have been gear chaos ran quite smoothly. Our group was presented with
realistic rescue scenarios requiring us to work as a team to rig mechanical systems on
the water. We graduated to the final task of rigging a full-blown "high-line Tyrolean"
system across the width of the river in order to effect a lowered boat rescue. This would
have seemed impossibly complicated only a day earlier, but went without a hitch after the
practice of the last two days.
Day three coursework included: "boat wrap" extrication methods, including in-boat
systems, vector pulls and mechanical advantage pulls; tension diagonal or "zip line"
construction (for controlled ferries); two- and four-point boat control systems (for rescues
from a boat); strong-swimmer rescue of combative victim or spinally injured victim; and
Tyrolean rope systems (tensioned lines above water).
By the end of the third day I felt capable of offering practical solutions in a variety of river
rescue problems. More importantly, I learned some valuable rescue skills that can be
applied in any situation. Remaining flexible regarding rescue methods was, in itself, one
of the most valuable lessons learned. Little encouraged creative thinking throughout the
class by urging us to remember the number one rule of rescue: "There is no one right
way." There are, however, several first steps for anyone involved in swiftwater rescue,
and this class is one of them.
--For more information, contact Rescue 3 International, P.O. Box 519, Elk Grove, CA 95759-0519; (800)
457-3728, www.rescue3.com
Ever try running along a rocky trail wearing oversized running shoes? If you're normal,
you probably answered, "No." You know that properly fitted footwear provides an
essential interface between you and the ground and gives you a solid feel for the trail.
Without it, you react slowly and stumble often.
Ever try running a river in an oversized kayak? If you're a whitewater kayaker, you
probably answered, "Yes." The river's trail, however, is wilder and less predictable than
the average hiking path, and is less forgiving when it trips you up. So why would anyone
paddle a kayak that doesn't fit correctly? "Many novice kayakers borrow a friend's boat,
or slip into a boat that feels comfortable, and then go kayaking," says Cindy Scherrer of
Oregon's Alder Creek Kayak Supply. "Loose, comfortable boats feel good on flat water,
but they can make leaning and bracing difficult. Once the boat is padded to provide a
close, body-hugging fit that still allows for easy wet exits, performance can dramatically
improve." The same rule applies to all levels of kayakers, whether they're paddling easy
whitewater, big water runs or creeks. Customized outfitting helps transfer every nuance in
the river's current through the kayak's hull to your body, helping you sense your
surroundings, make critical maneuvers and maintain your balance.
Since kayakers press against their boat's inner hull with the small of their backs, butts,
hips, thighs, knees and feet, it is these areas that should be customized to match the
shape and size of the paddler. Let's break the cockpit into a handful of sections and tailor
each one to get you the best control possible from your boat.
Before you get to work, take a look at a few customized kayaks and talk to your local
paddleshop expert. Seasoned experts can customize a whole boat with one block of
minicell foam, some carving tools and glue. Many shops, however, carry pre-cut pads,
making the job easier. A knife, some dragonskin (a special foam-shaping tool) and some
waterproof contact cement is all that is needed to make pads for your cockpit. Items such
as back bands may require drilling. Again, your local shop can provide advice on
outfitting...and then sell you what you need to do it on your own.
Back bands:
Back bands and lumbar pads nestle against the small of your back, preventing you from
sliding backward off your seat and holding you forward against your footbraces. They
even provide some welcome lumbar support, easing the strain kayaking imparts on your
lower back. These attributes more than outweigh the marginal increase in risk of
entrapment that accompanies the installation of a back band. After-market back bands
are designed to thread through holes in the seat and foam wall or bolt onto the seat itself
for a solid connection. Figure out which back band is best for you by sitting in a couple of
boats already outfitted with them. Many paddlers opt for back bands with nylon or
polyester straps or minicell foam pads for maximum comfort and durability.
Hip pads:
If your seat is wide enough to slide a hand between your hips and the seat walls, you'll
probably need to add minicell foam or neoprene hip pads to customize your boat's fit. Hip
pads help you tilt and lean your kayak when you're rightside up, and help you stay
inboard and roll when you're upside down. Provided you don't make the shims too tight,
your boat will comfortably grab your hips and your level of control will skyrocket.
The plastic seat most manufacturers install in their kayaks is molded to fit a generic butt.
My butt isn't generic, and yours probably isn't either--fortunately, you can modify it (the
seat, that is). Thin foam or rubber seat pads are remarkable leg savers. They help
prevent leg numbness by spreading your weight over broader parts of your butt, while
simultaneously increasing the friction between your butt and seat. Some folks swear they
keep your cheeks warm on winter paddle trips. Remember that "thin" is an important
word when selecting seat pads. Thick seat pads raise your center of gravity and make it
harder to balance in your boat. Fortunately, most manufacturers know this and build pads
perfectly designed for kayak seats.
Thigh braces:
Little more than a decade ago, I dreaded the thought of casting aside an old
custom-outfitted kayak and picking up a showroom-fresh model. The old models came
with primitive thigh braces that were good for, well, nothing. The customized foam
interiors wrapped around my thighs like fur on a beaver. Nowadays, an ever-increasing
number of manufacturers offer adjustable or interchangeable thigh braces which can be
matched to the size and shape of your legs. All you have to do is pick the boat design
you like and start swapping thigh braces until one fits you. I call this the "Goldilocks"
approach to boat buying.
Thigh pads:
Every time you lean or roll, one of your thighs tends to sneak toward the centerline of
your kayak. Left to its own accord, it would slip free from its thigh brace and cause you
more control problems than you would ever want to contemplate. Foam or neoprene
thigh pads not only cushion and comfort your connection with your thigh braces, they
provide the friction necessary to keep a solid grip on your boat. If your thigh pads don't fit
you quite right, you can increase or decrease the amount of foam around your thighs until
your legs melt perfectly into your cockpit. You can even build foam hooks along the inside
of your knees if your thigh braces lack these features, or shave cups for your kneecaps to
give you the ultimate in fit and control.
Footbraces and bulkheads:
This is the final point of contact with your kayak. Footbraces and bulkheads provide solid
footing and help you push the rest of your lower body tightly into position. When perfectly
adjusted, your feet will rest comfortably against the footbraces. But once you apply a little
pressure, your thighs, hips, butt and back press slightly harder against their respective
pads providing the necessary whitewater fit. Kayak outfitting is never a one-shot deal. A
winter's worth of relaxation can change the shape of your body, and the addition of cold
weather gear can change the way your kayak fits. However, once you know how good it
feels to paddle a boat that mirrors the curves of your lower body, you'll come to enjoy
tinkering with your boat and seeing how good control can feel--just like a snug pair of
shoes on a running trail.
--Contributing editor Jeff Bennett is the author of several books on whitewater. And he is proud to say that his
kayaks fit him like a glove.
Whether it was October's harvest moon or pent-up concern about protecting a treasured
natural resource, a spirited assortment of paddlers, climbers, mountain bikers and other
outdoor enthusiasts gathered in Haysi, Va., in early October for the fourth annual Russell
Fork River Rendezvous, a three-day, noncommercial celebration of the river, mountains
and its people. Founded in 1995 to help call attention to environmental degradation at the
hands of mining and timber companies, and raise funds to protect the area's natural
integrity, the event has seen attendance explode from 150 to more than 1,000 in four
short years. "Extraction industries have had a stranglehold on the resources and people
of this area for a hundred years," explains event organizer Brent Austin. "This is our way
to help show our concern."
The Russell Fork region has long been a provider of timber and fossil fuels, adds Jerry
Elkins, a fifth generation local and president of Headwaters, an environmental group
focusing on issues around the Russell Fork, and now it is threatened by a new form of
mining--natural gas development. Mining corporations, says Elkins, categorize the
development of natural gas in coal seams as mine safety and are able to skirt
environmental regulations that normally apply to commercial gas development. The gas
extraction involves pumping hydrochloric acid into bedrock to prime the strata for
fracturing to release natural gas. The gas is then collected and sold. Elkins estimates that
up to 200,000 gallons of hydrochloric acid has been pumped into the ground near the
Russell Fork. It is uncertain where it ends up, and the fracturing of bedrock is suspected
to cause shifts in groundwater flows. James Stapleton of the Russell Fork Water Watch
says this has resulted in the drying of several wells and streams. "The Levisa Fork of the
Big Sandy River, a sister stream of the Russell Fork, has already dried up at its
headwaters," he maintains. "And similar methane mining is planned for the headwaters of
the Russell Fork."
Erosion caused by this gas development is also scarring hillsides and silting up local
streams. According to Austin, this sediment pollution is the most critical issue facing the
Russell Fork. "It occurs from a number of activities including strip mining, methane
extraction and logging," he says. Other issues concerning the area include the Haysi
Dam Proposal, nutrient pollution from septic systems and runoff, and better recreational
management of dam releases. A growing interest in giving the river Wild and Scenic
status offers a star of hope for more permanent legal protection.
In the meantime, locals continue to show their grassroots support through the festival.
This year, Rendezvous goers were treated to more than a dozen bands and plenty of
paddling, including the annual Class V race through the river's 1,600-foot-deep canyon.
And as usual, the conservation celebration ended with a thundering drum circle under the
bright glow of a full harvest moon. --For more information on next year's Russell Fork
Rendezvous, visit Russell Fork Water Watch at www.kymtnnet.org/~wwatch.htm. --Scott
Harding
Okefenokee Threatened
But this wilderness paddling experience may never be the same if DuPont gets its way
and digs a proposed titanium mine on the refuge's eastern boundary. Surprisingly, only a
handful of paddlers are aware of the threat. Fewer still make the effort to attend the
on-going non-governmental meetings that will decide the swamp's future. One canoeist
who does get there is Chip Campbell--owner of Pro Canoe, a Raleigh, N.C., canoe
outfitter and retailer--and his wife Joy. They drive seven hours one way each month to
get to the slow-moving swamp talks run by DuPont. "This is where we have to draw the
line. We can not let this wilderness go,'' Campbell says.
Rugged, tall, bearded, with his long hair pulled back in a ponytail, Campbell looks like the
swamp rat he is. Campbell grew up paddling the Okefenokee swamp and shares his love
for it with customers whom he guides through the wilderness. Like most of those who
have paddled through this unique wetland, Campbell feels the swamp is his own. And he
worries about the paddling community's lack of concern about the Okefenokee threat.
Perhaps it's because it's a flatwater destination in the South, not a glamorous whitewater
river in the Rockies. Perhaps it's because it's a part of the nation's low-key wildlife refuge
system, and not a well known national park. Whatever the reason, if paddlers lose the
fight, the loss will be great and at least partly their own fault, Campbell reasons. "If the
paddling community is at all sincere about giving more than lip service to conservation
ideas and about protecting the places we paddle, this is where we need to be,'' he says.
For the last few years the Wilmington, Del.-based chemical giant has quietly forged
ahead with plans to extract titanium-bearing sands from the eastern boundary of the
refuge on at least half of 38,000 acres it owns and leases. The proposed placer mining
operation involves digging 20-acre ponds up to 50-feet deep, letting groundwater fill the
holes and separating the heavy ore from lighter sands using a floating wet mill. As
ore-bearing sands go in the front of a dredge, left over material is shot out the back. As
the dredge digs, the huge pond moves forward gobbling up everything in its path.
DuPont uses titanium to produce white pigment that goes into everything from house
paint to plastics used to make canoe paddle blades. Conservationists fear the proposed
operation will unbalance the underground water flows to and from the swamp. Other
concerns are that wastewater from the operation will pollute the St. Mary and Suwannee
rivers--both popular paddling destinations--that flow out of the swamp. Still another
concern is that the 24-hour-a-day, seven-day-a-week operation will diminish the
wilderness experience with light, noise and air pollution.
DuPont says it can prove it can mine next to the swamp without harm. Once word about
DuPont's plan got out, a small but fierce public outcry caused the company to stop
pursuing the mountains of federal and state permits it needs to get underway. Instead,
DuPont has formed a one-of-a-kind collaborative group of local business people, local
elected and appointed officials, environmentalists, timber companies and others to come
up with a solution.
A couple of small Southeast Georgia eco-based tourism businesses sit at the table. But
as far as Campbell is concerned, the paddling community is not represented. He found
out about the collaborative talks too late to join the exclusive 27-member panel which has
been meeting for over a year. So instead, he and Joyce sit in as members of a small
audience each month to be the voice of the paddling community. Campbell and some
environmentalists are suspicious of the collaborative process. They think it may be a
stalling process, saying the company is just waiting for a change in Georgia and
Washington administrations that might look more favorably on its plans.
But DuPont says it is sincere, and that it will abide by whatever consensus is reached by
the group--from full mining to no mining. In 1999 a "no mining'' subcommittee is expected
to offer the group a proposal rumored to include some land swap, tax incentives and
eco-tourism development ideas--all designed to forever protect the eastern edge of the
swamp from mining threats and to make a profit for DuPont. Chip Campbell says he will
believe it when--and if--he sees it. --Gail Krueger .
Class IV-V rapids with such names as Bujugali Falls, Total Gunga, Easy Rider, Sibling
Rivalry, Big Brother and Overtime--the first half of which is usually portaged--are on par
with any big-water rapids throughout the world. "It's some of the most impressive
whitewater in the world," maintains McLeay, who offers trips on the White Nile
year-round. "You couldn't ask for a better jungle trip." The rapids are so numerous and
challenging, in fact, that the site has been selected to host the World Whitewater Rafting
Championships in 1999.
Day trips start below Lake Victoria's Owens Falls Dam, which holds back the fourth
largest lake in the world, and end in a coffee field near a native village. Adrift has
appropriately adorned its one-day offering with the moniker "The Big One." Overnight
trips continue down to Lake Kyoga and offer mid-river camping on a forested island. To
add more bang to your jungle buck, visits can be planned to nearby mountain gorilla
communities and such national treasures as Lake Mburo National Park. Longer trips are
also available, including a package offering whitewater on The Big One, an overnight stay
in Masindi, six days rafting from the Karuma Bridge to the Annihilator (a rapid requiring a
two-day portage), two more days rafting from Big Monday to S-Bends rapids, and then
two days exploring the cascading Murchison Falls in the heart of Uganda's largest
national park. And no matter what length trip you choose, be prepared to encounter
hippos and crocodiles defending their territories with more tenacity than the ancient
Egyptian kings.
--For more information, contact Adrift Adventures at P.O. Box 310, Queenstown, New Zealand; (64) 0-344-25458
(phone); (64) 0-344-25950 (fax); raft@adrift.co.nz (e-mail); www.adrift.co.nz. --edb
No matter where you put in, however, be prepared for non-stop action. With all of Victoria
Falls' water funneled through the Batoka Gorge, the Zambezi packs 23 Grand
Canyon-size rapids in a single day trip--so many, in fact, that they are numbered instead
of named. Also popular are longer, multi-day trips, which contain even more big-water
rapids; and since the river pools up more downstream, it also offers prime habitat for
crocodile and hippo viewing. If flatwater's your fancy, several sections exist above the
falls that combine African-style camping with canoeing among hippos, crocodiles and
elephants.
Adding to the area's jungle feel are a smattering of world-renowned game parks in
Zimbabwe, Zambia and Botswana, as well as thatched-roof hotels offering happy hours
on verandas overlooking watering holes frequented by animals. Time it right and your
cocktail will arrive just in time to see elephants making their nightly rounds. You'll also
notice that, in true jungle fashion, local Gods are worshipped daily; most guides wear a
necklace with a symbol of Nyaminyami, the river god who watches over everyone who
travels the Zambezi.
--For more information, contact Mountain Travel-Sobek, 6420 Fairmount Ave., El Cerrito, CA 94530; (800) 282-8747
(phone); (510) 525-7710 (fax); www.mtsobek.com. --edb
In typical jungle fashion, the trip is replete with waterfalls, including 150-foot Stairway to
Heaven, so named because aboriginal natives buried their dead at its base so the spirits
could ascend to heaven. Flora and fauna-wise, expect what you would normally find in
the most ancient rainforest in the world. On the animal side, the rainforest houses
everything from bird spiders that prey on avians to water dragons and saltwater
crocodiles, who reach lengths of up to 23 feet and come equipped with three tons of
closing pressure per square inch of jaw. Boating botanists will marvel at such oddities as
cicada palms, which grow but two feet every 100 years; flowering ginger trees; and the
inevitable Stinging Tree, whose heart-shaped leaves contain needle-sized capsules filled
with more than 20 poisons, 12 of which have no known cure. And by the end of the trip
you'll be well versed in the local technique of removing leeches: simply scrape them off
with an upward movement of your fingernail.
Don't let its leeches, snakes and skin-tingling plants scare you, however. The river is a
jungle gem, and is safely navigated year in and year out. In fact, the time passes so
quickly that before you know it you'll pass the confluence of the Beatrice River, above
which lies a secret aboriginal site known as Frog Cave, and negotiate such rapids as
Mushroom, Rooster Tail and Champagne Falls, all caused by ancient lava flows. Then
you'll cross the World Heritage boundary and float the flats to the Nerada Tea Farm,
where, in true Crocodile Dundee fashion, you'll celebrate your jungle run with a ice cold
can of Fosters.
--For more information, contact Raft n' Rainforest, 74 Abbott St., P.O. Box 1938, Cairns, N.Q. 4870 Australia; (070)
51-7777 (phone); (070) 31 4777 (fax). In the U.S., contact: American Wilderness Experience, P.O. Box 1486, Boulder,
CO 80306; (303) 444-2622 (phone); (303) 444-3999 (fax). --edb
The heart of the trip is in the upper gorge, where the river narrows to less than 25 feet
and is surrounded by 200-foot cliffs on either side. Referred to as Fiji's Grand Canyon
and a River Eden, the untouched gorge contains more than 400 waterfalls, countless
hanging gardens and twisty-grotto side hikes that rival any found in Arizona's Grand
Canyon. You won't see much wildlife--save for fruit bats, parrots and freshwater prawns
you can eat for breakfast, lunch and dinner--but the wild ginger flowers, palms and foliage
containing the rarest conifer in the world more than make up for the country's mammal
count. So does the whitewater. After paddling by 4,000-foot-high mountains in the village
of Nabekelevu, day one provides 5 km of Class III-IV, jungle-filled rapids. Then you come
to a 12-km Class II-III gorge whose blackened volcanic walls contrast sharply with the
surrounding lush, green foliage. If you opt for the longer trip, two days later a Class I float
leads to the take-out on a white-sand beach on the Pacific. And if, like Bligh, you're in the
market for a warm-water bath, the Navua offers a welcome reprieve to temperatures up
north; the river averages 79 degrees F, with the sidestreams dropping to a frigid 77
degrees.
--For more information, contact OARS, P.O. Box 67, Angels Camp, CA 95222; (209) 736-4677 (phone); (209)
736-2902 (fax); reservations@oars.com (e-mail); www.oars.com. In Fiji contact Rivers Fiji, P.O. Box 307, Pacific
Harbour, Fiji Islands; (679) 450-147 (phone); (679) 450-148 (fax); riversfiji@is.com.fj (e-mail). --edb
The Macal is the largest drainage of Belize's Maya Mountains, funneling countless
rainforest tributaries through a 20-mile gorge cutting through the highlands. In the heart of
the gorge, vine-clad walls tower up to 1,500 feet overhead, many of which harbor
cascading waterfalls and hidden limestone caves. After flowing north out of the highlands
near the Guatemalan border, the river opens up to a lush valley before joining the Mopan
River in San Ignacio. Be forewarned, however, that it is not for the faint of heart. The
granite river bed creates classic pool-drop rapids in the form of waterfalls and strong
hydraulics. The best levels to tackle the rapids are between 500-1,500 cfs, which usually
occurs when the rainy season subsides from November through March. The river often
rises as high as 45,000 cfs in the rainy season. Excluding the Class VI portions, the
average gradient is about 75 feet per mile.
For a jungle fix without the adrenaline, head to the nearby Caves Branch River, which,
when not meandering through rainforest-cloaked countryside, flows underground through
Mayan artifact-filled caves for five of the run's eight miles. And that's someplace even
British army adventurers dared not venture in their reconnaissance of the area in the
early '80s.
--For more information, contact Slickrock Adventures, P.O. Box 1400, Moab, UT 84532; (800) 390-5715 (phone); (435)
259-6996 (fax); slickrock@slickrock.com (e-mail); www.slickrock.com. --edb
A two-hour drive then takes you to a remote Mayan village where Mayan
cowboys--members of the Mopan and Kekchi Maya peoples--load you and your gear on
horseback for a half-day trot to the put-in. Only then does the river portion of your trip
begin, as you take off on a Caribbean-bound waterway fed by more than 150 inches of
rain each year. "It's definitely about as remote as you can get in Belize," says Tim Boys,
who ran the first descent of the river in 1995. "There's not a lot of people down there." But
there is plenty of emerald-green whitewater: stair-stepping through a jungle-filled gorge
are more than 60 rapids, including several 18- to 20-foot drops--like aptly named Monkey
Falls--that cascade into deep pools as green as the jungle walls. Camping takes place in
the heart of the forest among indigenous birds, jaguar tracks and howler monkeys. If
you're lucky you might even spot a monkey eagle or shadow-casting whitehawk
eagle--the largest neo-tropical bird of prey in existence--catching thermals rising from the
river up the canyon walls. And, of course, there's plenty of time to relax at camp, hike and
practice blowing bubbles with indigenous tree sap.
--For more information, contact Island Expeditions, 368-916 W. Broadway, Vancouver, B.C. Canada V5Z-1K7; (800)
667-1630 (phone); (604) 452-3433 (fax); island@whistler.net (e-mail). --edb
Linking the rapids are tranquil pools that reflect orchids swirling in eddies and allow plenty
of time to explore side creeks, bathe beneath waterfalls and listen to the calls of the
country's 850 species of birds.
Trips range anywhere from one to three days, but as Tarzan would say, the longer you
can stay in the jungle, the better. The river even has an upper Class V section for
seasoned jungle hairboaters. Most trips originate in Costa Rica's capital of San Jose,
home of the infamous Museo de Jade, which features the world's largest collection of
jade, and the Museo de Oro Precolombino, which contains more than 2,000
pre-Colombian gold artifacts. Before you've had a chance to share your museum tales,
you'll arrive at the banks of the Pacuare feeling like you've just entered the Land of the
Lost--thick jungle walls filled with flowers bookend the river, leaving the waterway as the
only way out. After negotiating several rapids and floating through the most varied fauna
on the planet--in terms of species per unit area--safari-style accommodations appear
around a bend about halfway through the trip. Don't expect anything that wouldn't satisfy
Jungle George. At one lodge, hammock-filled, thatch-roofed huts--offering dorm- and
honeymoon-style rooms--surround an even larger thatch-roofed lodge next to a gurgling
waterfall. Linking the huts to the lodge's open-walled dining room, bar and reading room
are bamboo-railed boardwalks that make wearing anything but river sandals sacrilegious.
Don't get so comfortable in the reading room's hammock, however, that you miss the
cocktail-hour bell; in true jungle fashion, all apres-paddle drinks are served in coconut
shells.
After waking to the chirps of monkeys and toucans, you can either lay-over for a day,
enjoying side hikes and pristine swimming pools, or hop back aboard your craft for
another 16 miles of unspoiled whitewater, rainforest and towering green cliffs--some of
which house waterfalls that rinse your raft as you pass. And if, by chance, you still need
more of a jungle fix when all is said and done, you can always head to nearby Mt. Arenal
after your return to San Jose--Hollywood also came to Costa Rica to find a Congo-like
active volcano.
-- For more information, contact Rios Tropicales, (011) 506-233-6455 (phone), (011) 506-255-4354 (fax),
info@riostro.com(e-mail), www.riostro.com; or Kayak Costa Rica, Apdo. #1672-7050, Cartago, Costa Rica, (011)
506-380-8934 (phone), swanldmkc@aol.com (e-mail). --edb
The river, of course, is the main draw, and the rapids start right after you put in. On my
first trip, Maya Expeditions founder Tammy Ridenour tumbled out of the boat in these
initial rapids, called Rock and Roll, and called commands to her crew from the water.
After a splash-filled beginning the river stretches out for a while, offering some
intermediate rapids such as the deceptively sticky Wrap Rock. The biggest challenges
are downstream, namely Sacacorcha (Corkscrew) which at higher levels will flip any boat
that doesn't hit it straight and hard, and Sacacaca which gets uglier at low water. Just
downstream, in a setting Disney couldn't top, is an aptly named pull-out called Paraiso
(Paradise), where paddlers can play in a 20-foot waterfall and then bathe in natural hot
springs. A couple of pools have room for six or eight people. In the depths of the
Guatemalan jungle, there's nothing like grabbing a cold Gallo (Guatemalan beer),
soaking in a hot spring and recounting tales of the trip. A typical trip on the Cahabón
includes three days of boating plus a day to reach the put-in and a day to drive back to
Guatemala City. Among other attractions en route are the Biotopo Nature Reserve, home
to the rare resplendent quetzal (Guatemala's national bird), and on the way out, the
Mayan Ruins at Queriga.
--For more information, contact Maya Expeditions, Section 66, P.O. Box 527270, Miami, FL 33152, (800) 733-3350; or
Area Verde Expeditions, 507 McClelland, Pueblo, CO 81005, (719) 564-4944 (phone/fax), guatemala@areaverde.com
(e-mail), www.areaverde.com. --Mike Shapiro
The proper response requires tossing candy from the vehicle. The 12-mile run has four
different sections--the lower, middle, upper and top--which in contrast to their names, are
quite unique. The lower is the easiest and commercially run section. It contains about 3.5
miles of Class III-IV pool-drop rapids, with the pools providing idyllic swimming holes.
Since La Ceiba lies beneath the run, pollution from the city is not an issue. Swim and roll
in peace, but don't be surprised to encounter a local spear fisherman diving for savory
bonito. You will also find several sandy beaches along this section, some complete with
bungalows.
The middle is referred to as the Juice by local gringos and El Loco by the locals. At low
water, this section, clogged with monolithic granite boulders, is clean and creeky. Its
labyrinthine nature is similar to Bald Rock Canyon in California. At medium flows the
pools begin to disappear and the rapids transform into big-water Class V. At high water,
just a glimpse of the holes is enough to rip you out of your boat and make you feel like
jungle-prey. The top and upper sections are the most pristine, owing to the road's
divergence from the river and a deep cloud-forested canyon. They also offer the most
continuous Class III-IV whitewater. The guttural melee of macaws is likely the only sound
you'll hear breaching the sheltered canyon. And like all sounds in the canyon, this discord
is easily swallowed by the dense jungle walls. Unfortunately, the top section itself might
soon be swallowed as well by an impending dam, silencing the canyon forever.
Paddling in Honduras is more plentiful during the rainy season, but the Cangrejal almost
always has enough water to kayak. Avoid the rainy season (October through December)
if you're looking for sunshine and mellow whitewater.
--For more information, contact Rios Honduras, (800) 255-5784, (011) 504-443-0780 (phone/fax),
rios@hondurashn.com (e-mail); or La Moskitia Ecoaventuras, (011) 504-21-0408 (phone), (011) 504-42-0104 (fax).
--Davison Collins
Jungles don't get any thicker than the Amazon, and few
rivers boast more Amazon surroundings than the Rio
Quijos, which spills off the eastern flanks of Ecuador's
Andes into the Upper Amazon Basin. To give an idea of
the jungle's intrigue, locals refer to it as "El Oriente," a
name associated with the great unknown. At the paddling
forefront of this jungle is the Quijos near the town of El
Chaco, offering more than 40 miles of easily accessible,
jungle-strewn whitewater. The river's first 10 miles
contain steep, continuous, small-volume Class III-V
rapids.
If you want big-volume and continuous whitewater, head to the region during the rainy
season, which runs from mid-March to mid-September. The rest of the year is the dry
season, when commercial outfitters run trips. During these months there's still plenty of
action--just not as extreme. Day tripping is the norm on the upper Quijos, although further
downstream you can do a two-day trip near the town of El Reventador. And as with the
canoe-paddling natives in Tarzan movies who constantly dodge waterfalls, make sure not
to miss the take-out on the Grand Canyon section: at the end of it the Quijos plunges
over 480-foot San Rafael Falls, the highest waterfall in Ecuador.
-- For more information, contact Yacu Amu Rafting, Amazonas N24-03 Y Presidente Wilson, Quito, Ecuador,
yacuamu@rafting.com.ec (e-mail), www.ecua.net.ec/yacuamu; Nantahala Outdoor Center, 13077 Hwy 19 West,
Bryson City, NC 28713, (704) 488-2175 (phone), (704) 488-2498 (fax), adtrav@noc.com (e-mail), www.nocweb.com;
Small World Adventures, P.O. Box 3214, Crested Butte, CO 81224, 800-58-KAYAK (phone/fax), smworld@aol.com
(e-mail); and Endless Rivers, P.O. Box 246, 14157 Hwy. 19 W., Bryson City, NC 28713, (704) 488-6199 (phone/fax),
71604.1240@compuserve.com (e-mail), www.earthriveradventures.com. --edb
The pace steadily increases until the river plunges into the Namangosa Gorge, whose
sheer walls are covered by a thick layer of primary rainforest broken only by waterfalls
spilling off the canyon lip. Some falls cascade down staggered cliffs while others freefall
into the jungle below. The river's Lost World atmosphere is made even more daunting by
Brontosaurus-sized boulders and seething rapids. The rapids are big-volume Class IV
with lots of raft-flipping boils and kayak-swallowing eddylines. Once out of the gorge, the
river broadens and deepens to become a calm but powerful giant on its way to meet the
Amazon.
Most trips start near Macas, accessible from Quito by road (12 hrs.) and air (35 min.).
The 80-mile run from Macas to the end of the gorge takes four to five days. You can also
continue another day or so downstream to Santiago Mayatico, the final possible take-out.
From here it's only a few miles as the toucan flies to the border with Peru. As with other
rivers of the Amazon, water levels vary throughout the year. Recommended months are
October to February; during the rest of the year the river can flood unexpectedly. During
April and May, when the river peaks, the gorge fills so much that the native Shuar Indians
can travel upstream to Macas in motorized boats--no rapids, no campsites.
--For more information, contact Yacu Amu Rafting, Amazonas N24-03 Y Presidente Wilson, Quito, Ecuador,
yacuamu@rafting.com.ec (e-mail), www.ecua.net.ec/yacuamu; or ROW Expeditions, P.O. Box 579, Coeurd'Alene, ID
83816, (800) 451-6034 (phone), (208) 667-6506 (fax), rowinc@aol.com (e-mail), www.rowinc.com. --Steve Nomchong
The denseness stems from the river's location. Starting high in the eastern Andes before
joining the Madre de Dios in Puerto Maldonado, the Beni in Bolivia and the Amazon in
Brazil, the Tambopata lies in the direct path of gale-force Andean winds which often
sweep down and break the rainforest's century-old trees like toothpicks. This lets extra
light filter down to the forest floor, giving smaller plants a chance to flourish. (Some trees
have adapted to the winds by growing teepee-like support roots and swollen lumps high
in their trunks.) The fight for light is evident everywhere: one native vine attaches itself to
trees and forms soil-generating bowls with its leaves so it can root into itself and continue
upward. Another tree, the Tungarhana, produces a sugary sap to lure ants inside its
trunk, who in return for the free accommodations eat vines trying to catch a ride up to the
canopy. More than 45 species of ants were once found in a single tree.
When you're not marveling at nature's adaptations in the forest, you'll be marveling at the
rapids, which come in quick succession and include Ants' Nest--named for an
unsuspecting ant attack during a scouting mission on the first descent--Dead Frog and
Class IV Monster. Around campfires you'll hear stories of groups forced to bivouac for
days on end because of flash-flooding and groups forced to subsist on nothing but
hand-picked bananas for three days. "The Tambopata is very crazy and unpredictable,"
maintains Toni Ugarte, a Peruvian who participated on the first descent of the river in
1979. "Different things can happen on each trip."
The fauna is as diverse as the flora, including everything from snakes, caimans
(crocodiles with overbites) and jaguars to monkeys, parrots and tapirs (a member of the
elephant family). "It is a very remote area," adds Ugarte. "Animals come to the
Tambopata Valley from all over as a retreat because they feel safe here." That, of
course, is what gives the Tambopata its name, which means "Resting Place." And that is
exactly what you'll feel like doing once you reach the Explorer's Inn when all is said and
done.
--For more information, contact Mayuc Expeditions, 51-84-232-666 (phone/fax), chando@mayuc.com;
www.ascinsa.com.pe/mayuc/; or Tsanza Adventures, P.O. Box 840208, Pembroke, FL 33084, (954) 430-3050 (phone),
(954) 430-3090 (fax), Tsanza@amazonrainforest.com (e-mail), www.amazonrainforest.com. --edb
Table of Contents
Features
Eddylines
Letters to the editor.
Hotline
Vice-president Gore goes paddling; Lotto funds build a new playspot in Colorado; a canoe builder
runs for Governor of Rhode Island; and more!
Innuendos
A long-time river runner tries to answer the question, why? by David Regela
Paddle People
A look at environmental paddling crusader John "Caveman" Gray.
Health
by Buck Tilton
When Bad Water Goes Good: a guide to making boatable water drinkable.
Paddle Tales
A raft inflates inside a Volkswagen; a surprise mount for a deer hunter; and the old
decomposed-mouse-in-a-paddling-glove trick.
First Descents
by Richard Flasher
Negotiating paddling and politics on China's Yellow River.
ECO
Dam removal likely for Washington's Elwha; the Grand Canyon gets quieter; and more!
Frames
Marketplace Review
GADGETS
A new pooper for paddlers; a rafting storage bag for everything from campchairs to the
kitchen sink; and waterproof river maps you can stuff in the back of your kayak.
BOOK AND VIDEO REVIEWS
Skills
Destinations
Ender
Corran Addison
The Dennis Rodman of Kayaking?
by Eugene Buchanan
Love him or hate him, South Africa's Corran Addison is making waves in the world of whitewater
August 1994:
The annual Outdoor Retailer trade show in Reno, Nevada,
has just ended, and a pod of kayakers has converged on
California's American River to test paddle the latest boats on
the market. At a playhole called Maya, one paddler links
freestyle moves effortlessly in a boat markedly different from
any other. The boat is called the Scorpion and the person at
the controls is as radical a departure from other designers as
the kayak is from other boats. He is Corran Addison, a native
South African whose personality and approach to business is
personified by the 16-inch Mohawk hiding beneath his
helmet.
September 1997:
The finals of the World Rodeo Championships on Canada's
Ottawa River have just begun and the announcer calls bib
number three out of the eddy. Instead of competing, Corran
floats into the current holding a protest banner high
overhead. Competitors and organizers can do little to quell
the tantrum. He follows his stunt by announcing to television
cameras that until the International Rodeo Committee
reverses its rule-change decision, he will never compete in
another IRC-sanctioned rodeo again. Less than a month later,
he begins forming his own competing rodeo circuit.
Like the giant sand waves on Utah's San Juan River, paddling seasons come and
go, often without any warning. One moment you're on top of your game, cutting
back and forth as if there were no tomorrow, and the next you're hovering above
a vast emptiness, wondering what to do. When the bottom drops out on a
disappearing wave, it's usually no big deal--you simply cut your losses and
move on to other waters. When paddling seasons disappear, however, it's
another matter entirely. Unlike surfing a wave, you can't just peel out and hop Eugene Buchanan
on another season (unless, of course, you put career and family on hold and head
elsewhere). Once the paddling season ends, most of us are faced with a void as
deep as the Grand Canyon. It means resigning ourselves to the fact that it might
be months until we again feel the splash of a wave or enjoy the tell-tale shoulder
soreness of a long day's paddle.
Some paddlers don't suffer such withdrawals. Rodeo stars and expedition
members often circle the globe come off-season without missing a beat, and those in temperate
climates--or in rain-fed regions like the Northwest and Southeast--can often paddle year-round without
ever leaving home. Come winter, however, us Colorado paddlers are resigned to the droid-like ritual of
swapping boats, paddles and PFDs for skis, boots and poles (or snowboards, goatees and over-sized
pants). On the bright side, the off-season is a time for reflection--a chance to ponder good lines gone bad
and bad lines gone good. On the downside, it also is melancholic. Gear that treated us so well throughout
the season gets thrown, unwashed, into the closet like a photo album from an in-law's wedding. There it
stays until spring, when everything gets pulled out again and you realize the broken zippers and gaskets
you swore you would fix the season before are still in the same state of disrepair.
There's a reason I'm bringing all of this up: Like clockwork, I was reminded of this cycle when it came
time to create this issue's Special Pull-Out Calendar. Don't ask me why we do it--it's not as if we enjoy
getting reminded it's time to hang up our paddles. By the same token, however, the Calendar, supported
month-to-month by various sponsors, also serves as an important reminder that paddling is never too far
away. My personal copy is hung on my office wall so I can stare at it whenever writer's block surfaces
like my boat did during the paddling season. That's when I flip through all 12 months, staring intently at
each image, be it a canoe on Lake Superior, a sea kayak in Baja or a white-water kayak soaring off a
waterfall. And even though I'm jealous of those whose seasons oppose mine, I feel soothed in knowing I
too will soon be doing the same.
So when you're through sifting through the rest of this issue (and wiping the tears out of your eyes from
my soulful soliloquy), yank out the calendar, grab a thumbtack and pin it up someplace special. If you're
feeling particularly sentimental, call the month's sponsor and thank him or her for keeping paddling alive
year-round. Like sand waves, paddling seasons can't hold their shape forever. But when they disappear,
at least we can still daydream.
--Eugene Buchanan
eddylines
Bad Ad
I'm awarding Paddler this month's bad taste in periodicals award (conservation and outdoor recreation
division) for the ad I saw on page 29 of your June '98 issue. While it is great that Subaru is a significant
sponsor of the American Canoe Association (ACA), is bashing up a shallow streambed in an Outback
really the sort of river conservation the ACA wants to promote? Please exercise editorial education and
control over your advertisers. Whatever happened to "tread lightly?"
--David Kaisel, Woodside, California
Freestyle Friend
Thanks for the article on "How to Create a Freestyle Canoe Program" (Aug. '98). Author Mark Molina
was my first freestyle instructor...what I learned from him most was to have FUN. While I do
choreographed routines, sometimes I just throw a tape in my Walkman and have a blast. And oftentimes
some new initiations and heels come out of this. Freestyle is not just for "elite" canoeists. Turn up the
music--be it rap, rock or Rachmaninoff--and see what happens. And don't forget to have a great time!
--Kim Gass, Madison, Connecticut
Duffel Dilemma
I have a question about the picture on page 75 of your April '98 issue, at the beginning of your article on
combo duffels. What is the red, vaguely kayak-shaped object lying behind the duffel bag in the picture? I
don't recall seeing this model in any Wave Sports catalogs. Do you have a picture of this kayak in use on
a river? Better yet, do you have a picture of a kayaker who could fit his or her legs into this kayak's
radically short nose?
--Peter S. Dayton, Missoula, Montana
--The kayak in question is the Wave Sport Stubby. And no, you don't have to be Tom
Thumb to paddle it.
--Eds
Nu Jiang Knowledge
Jennifer Pyle asked me to clear up some discrepancies in the Nu Jiang article in your International
Expedition section (Aug. '98). While there are several minor points I could make (like it was after lunch,
not morning, when I had my third and final flip that prevented me from continuing), there are two major
points I would like to make. First, while I was originally referred to as the river navigator, which is
correct, in the following paragraph, I was referred to as "leader." Jennifer Pyle was the expedition leader
in every way, shape and form. My role was simply as river navigator or guide to help the rafts run the
rapids. Second, in regards to the reference to selling or leasing the boats to a logging company: no
Chinese official (or any Chinese person) ever communicated to me their intention to lease or sell the
boats for logging or any other function besides ecotouring.
--Dennis W. Schultz, Oregon Health Sciences University, schultzd@ohsu.edu
College Omission
First, I would like to congratulate you for putting together a wonderful magazine that is as exciting to
read as it is to look at. I am a 23-year-old who has been kayaking since age 10 and reading your
magazine since age 12. Secondly, I would like to thank you for the interesting article on paddling
colleges (Oct. '98). It seems that many people get their first taste of paddling at college and others pick
where they go based on the paddling possibilities a school offers. I grew up in Nashville, Tenn., and
spent many high school days on the Ocoee. When it came time for me to decide on a college to attend, it
was the cfs not the GPA I was concerned about. I spent a long time looking at schools and visited
Colorado, Colorado State, Fort Lewis College, Lewis & Clark College, Vermont and Appalachian State.
I felt these were all paddling colleges as did the authors of your story.
However, I found the best paddling college (and ultimately where I spent my four years) was a small
liberal arts college on the Cumberland Plateau in Tennessee known as the University of the South or
"Sewanee." Sewanee has about 1,100 students on a 10,000 acre campus known as the "Domain." Most
classes are over by noon, leaving plenty of tiime to run such nearby creeks as Little River, the Bear and
North Chick. The Ocoee, Hiwassee, Nantahala and Tellico are also all within easy range. Some days, we
would make the 30-minute drive to "The Wave" on the Caney Fork (cover, Feb. '98). We would go there,
to our little secret, before class, after class or even during a full moon.
Sewanee has a rich paddling history and a wonderful paddling club. The annual race known as "The
Southeastern Intercollegiate Whitewater Championships," hosted by Warren Wilson and Brevard
colleges, has been won by Sewanee for 23 of the past 25 years (I was the men's K-I slalom champion in
'95.) Sewanee continually beats the other "Nation's Best Paddling Colleges" such as Warren Wilson,
Brevard (sorry Windy Gordon), and Appalachian State. This is a pretty remarkable feat considering that
Sewanee is also annually ranked as one of the best colleges in the country. I am sorry to go off on a rant
but I feel your omission needed comment. Thanks again for a wonderful magazine and keep up the good
work.
--Jim Uden, The University of the South, Class of '97
Hawaii Hints
While in an outfitter's store I saw your magazine with the Hawaiian sea kayak trips article (June '98). I
had to have it, bought it and took it home. I loved the article and want to pass on to your readers one
more tidbit. The "hints" section under books leaves out the single most mind-blowing book on sea
kayaking I've ever read. It's written by Audrey Sutherland (whose book "Paddling Hawaii" was listed).
Her first book, "Paddling My Own Canoe," is the story of a single mother of several children exploring
the north coast of Molokai starting in the '60s. Before sea kayaks were available, she swam the route
described in your article pulling camping gear behind her in a Styrofoam box. On later trips she had an
inexpensive PVC inflatable kayak. This is the ultimate adventure book and should be read by anyone
who wonders what a person can do on his or her own.
--Mark Evans, Knoxville, Tennessee
Hotline
Flatwater Fortune
Flatwater canoe and kayak racers who enjoy a spin on the roulette table after a spin around the race
course will be seen Nov. 14-15 at the second annual William Hardy Memorial Paddlefest, held on the
Colorado River in Bullhead City, Ariz., just across the river from Laughlin, Nev. Competitors will have
ample opportunity to ply their passion on the many flatwater venues of Lake Mead National Recreation
Area, Lake Mojave, and the lower Colorado. Off the water they'll be able to do the same at the Avi
Resort & Casino and a handful of other major casinos in Laughlin. The paddlers, however, may fare just
as well as gamblers: a purse of more than $10,000 is reserved for winners. Info.: Back Bay Canoes &
Kayaks, (520) 758-6242.
--ahb
Canoe Celebration
Visitors to Maui, Hawaii, last Memorial Day saw unprecedented homage paid to canoes.
Commemorating the ancient Hawaiian traditions of canoeing, the town of Lahaina held a three-day "In
Celebration of Canoes" festival, including outrigger races, native craft demonstrations, Hula dances and
an authentic Hawaiian canoe blessing. Festival goers also saw displays showcasing Mo'olele, Maui's
40-foot double-hulled sailing canoe, modern outrigger sailing canoes, traditional koa-wood canoes and
state-of-the-art fiberglass craft. "I think everyone who experienced it came away with an appreciation of
the majesty of the Hawaiian canoe," says event organizer Theo Morrison. "It's a great way to celebrate
our heritage of canoes."
--edb
Paddler in Politics?
Canoe builders may finally have representation in state government this year; and nowhere is this more
fitting than in Rhode Island, where, because of the state's strong boat building history, boats are the only
products exempt to state sales tax. "This may be the first time a canoe builder is actually recognized as
being a citizen," says John Devine, owner of Adirondack Canoe/Gloucester Boat Sales and Reform Party
candidate for Governor of Rhode Island. Devine-who turns 65 in December-has been building small
boats for more than 22 years, and has been involved in politics on the local level for 30 years. "My goal
is to put somebody in the state house who is involved in some other profession besides the legal
profession," says Devine. "The biggest industry in Rhode Island at one time was boat building. I'm trying
to get the support of all the boat builders and environmental organizations to make Rhode Island the
biggest boat building state in the U.S." With as much pride in his state as he takes in his canoes, Devine
might just make an excellent candidate.
--ahb
What's in a Name
Before a kayak is released to the market, manufacturers struggle to find a name that captures the essence
of the boat and entices paddlers to fork over their hard-earned dollars to buy it. Everyone has a say in this
process, from designers and marketing gurus to owners and sales staff. Only after a thorough process of
elimination is the perfect name selected. After barroom chats with several industry insiders, following are
a few that probably wouldn't have made the cut.
Name That Didn't Make It: Name That Did:
Ebonic Jive
Spazmatic Kinetic
Maggot Fly
The Corran Hammer
The Corran Riot
The Corran 007
PMS RPM
Dizzy Vertigo
Concussion Whiplash
Rodan Godzilla
One Should TwoCan
Crab Scorpion
Tantrum Fury
Chromosome X
Because Y
Flasher Dancer
Kansas Corsica
Obese Phat
Viagra Stubby
--Mike Mowrey
Creating a Program
of Your Own
Want to create a kid-boat-building program
of your own? Take the following advice
from our program.
-Don't know anything about boat repair?
Ask around; that fellow in your paddling
club who does his own C1 conversions will
probably be glad to lend a hand. The guy at
work, who re-built a sailboat, he's your
Item 1--"Kid labor paves the way. (Want your own fiberglass expert and your neighbor the
boat? Work for it!)" woodworker can probably offer advice
Thus reads the first of seven stipulations of the Winter Shop about gunwale and thwart replacement.
Days Kids 'n Boats Program, which puts kids to work -Exercise good judgment in dividing the
refurbishing canoes and kayaks at a workshop in Freeland, labor. Let the kids handle the sanding,
Md. Little do the kids who sign on the dotted line know that screwing, measuring, cutting, drilling and
the idea is not just to equip them with a boat or paddle--it's material lay-out. Reserve the resins,
to teach them paddling-related shop skills, responsibility and epoxies and hazardous jobs as "adults only"
pride of ownership (not to mention the gratification that tasks.
comes with hand-sanding wood paddles, thwarts and
gunwales). -Take your time. Start slowly (and keep
going slowly). Shortcuts have a way of
The concept behind the program, which started in 1996 and turning into long roads in the end and, hey,
has helped more than 10 kids build boats and paddles, is you've got all winter to finish.
simple: lurking in basements and garages everywhere are
forlorn canoes, kayaks and paddles, damaged, outgrown and -Old whitewater boats can be turned into
outdated. Pair these up with boatless young paddlers and flatwater trainers by adding a skeg or keel.
semi-knowledgeable adult supervision, then throw them all A piece of half round molding, covered
together in a well-equipped shop, and the result is a with glass and resin will do the trick. This
boat-building operation that, while not on par with the offending appendage can later be ground
Perceptions of the world, evokes enthusiasm, dedication and off to return the boat to its original
inventiveness. And it gets canoes and kayaks in the hands of configuration.
children who otherwise wouldn't have access to them. While
-Expect that adult paddling acquaintances
the kids learn skills that will serve them throughout their
will drop by the shop wanting to do a
paddling days, adults learn from their ideas born of
winter tune-up on their boats - help them,
innocence: hula hoops, cut in half, make fine spray cover
then enlist them.
cowlings; racing stripe accents make great trim-check lines;
and graphics on offset paddle blades make visual orientation -Don't expect this to be a one-winter
easier. project. A new crop of young paddlers is
Item 2--Kid money pays the way. Parental Units sure to come along next winter ready to put
permitted to assist only with labor and/or advise. Raw in some shop time in return for a canoe,
material gifts acceptable. kayak or paddle of their own.
Fact--Polyester resins start at $10 a quart, ABS putty runs For more information, contact the
$60 a quart and adhesives, abrasives and stainless steel aren't Menacing Duckheads Paddling Club, 1405
Walker Rd., Freeland, MD 21053; (410)
cheap; no kid's piggy bank is that deep. But parents aren't
706-8958; (410) 706-8184 (fax).
allowed to donate funds. Instead, they have to practice
saying things like "Happy birthday kid, here's a nice piece of --mm
ash for your replacement thwarts" and "Oh wow, Santa brought you snap fasteners for your spray cover."
If all parents want is a boat for their kid, it would be easier to simply visit a paddle shop and dicker for a
used boat. Any repair project involving kids takes more time, is more expensive and keeps parents off the
river more often than they would like (if it's warm enough to paddle, it's warm enough to paint, putty or
mix resin). If the kids spent as much time working a job that involved saying "Would you like fries with
that?" as they spend working on damaged hulls, they could pay cash for the boat of their choice.
Item 3--A report of the refinish/refurbish/repair process shall be submitted to the original donor
by the recipient (photographs optional).
Most of the boats and paddling gear the kids receive are clunkers acquired as donations from local
paddlers; in return for their generosity a summary of the repairs and a few photos is a small price to pay.
Don't be surprised if the kids would rather toil away on their boats or paddles than deal with
paperwork...wouldn't we all?
Item 4--Hulls that significantly change color must be refinished in Duckhead Purple and/or
Duckhead Yellow (graphics and spray covers included).
This strategy not only allows leftover materials to be used on subsequent projects, but using bright,
easy-to-spot colors facilitates taking a headcount when your youngsters are spread out up and down the
river.
Item 5--Refurbished hulls shall be passed along to another Youth Division member upon
acquisition of a new hull.
Those bantam-weight adolescents will eventually outgrow their perfectly sized boats and flatwater
cruising kids have a habit of turning into teenage whitewater runners; when they're ready to graduate to a
different hull they should be ready to head back into the shop and learn some new repair skills while
working on another boat.
Item 6--An appropriate paddle must be passed along with the hull (laborious refinishing by the
recipient acceptable).
Might as well get them accustomed to donating their old gear to the younger generation; with luck it'll be
habit forming.
Item 7--Passer-away must provide the new recipient with labor and assistance in further
refinishing/re-equipping boat and/or accessories equal to that which he/she previously received
from parental units and/or others.
Ah, the concept of the self-sustaining labor pool. If you help a couple of kids with their paddling
projects, they'll use what they've learned to help a couple of other kids with their paddling projects,
who'll use what they've learned...
--Mike McCrea
Night Rafting?
Daryll Bangert likes to bring out the dark side of people. And he
does it in a most unconventional way--through rafting.
Anyone who has ever taken a full-moon paddle knows the rewards
of night boating. Those hesitant about such after-hours river
running, however, can now turn to Bangert for salvation. His Vail,
Colo.-based Lakota River Guides recently became the first
commercial rafting company in the world to offer whitewater
adventures in the black of night. Instead of boating by Braille,
however, paddlers gather at sunset to sample local nightlife with
the aid of sight-enhancing Night Vision goggles, which light up
everything from rapids to rocks. "I think people used to do things
out in the dark all the time," Bangert says. "Then we got chicken
and quit."
Built by Roanoke, Va.-based ITT Corp., Night Vision goggles
eliminate any need to fear things that go bump in the night--like
the sound of a rock scraping a raft--by making use of recently
declassified military technology. The nocturnal viewers, ranging in
price from $1,500 to $5,000, are typically hand-held binoculars or
monoculars (more expensive models come with head-mounts) that
gather minimal light energy (photons) from sources such as the stars, convert it to electrical energy
(electrons), increase that energy and then convert it back to light. This enables users--in Lakota's case,
rafters--to see in the dark as if the sky was illuminated by a bright green lamp.
"I was thinking it was a technological crutch for a long time," says Bangert, who purchased eight sets of
the mid-range goggles for his rafting operations. "Now I just think of it as human ingenuity. It's just a
new tool you use when it's dark out."
Bangert uses his night vision goggles on commercial trips on a Class II stretch of the Upper Colorado
River. And he has found them perfect for late-season runs. As the thrills of daytime rafting diminish with
late-summer water levels, the ability to raft after dark more than makes up for minimal flows. The
goggles are less intrusive than flashlights and head lamps, enabling users to scan banks for wildlife while
guides negotiate rapids. "The adventure is more about being out at night than the actual rafting,"
maintains Bangert. "It's the simple stuff: the sounds, the smells and the sensation of movement in the
rapids--the things people don't notice so much during the day." The goggles are also a hit with neophyte
astronomers, allowing for stargazing even on overcast nights. All rafters are issued star charts along with
their goggles and are encouraged to learn constellations, which virtually jump out of the sky with Night
Vision enhancement.
In its first summer offering Night Vision tours, Lakota booked as many as four two- or three-raft trips per
week. While the $89-a-night bookings are expected to increase as word of the night tours spreads,
Bangert concedes that the adventures appeal only to a certain type of person, whether they regularly ply
Class V or have never been in a boat before. "These are trips for people who want to do something a little
different," Bangert says. "This way they can do something all day, and then still go out at night. But the
goggles definitely extend paddlers' play time, which is a good thing in this day and age."
--For more information, contact Lakota River Guides at (970) 476-RAFT.
--Scott Willoughby
####
innuendos
eco
marketplace review
Voyageur
Voyageur, the accessories branch of Waitsfield, Vt.'s Mad River Canoe, has revamped its dry bag line,
with two new styles--Flatheads and Blockheads--made from waterproof, 600-denier polyester canvas that
is both frequency welded and seam-taped. Although the bags arrived too late to join the rest of our
waterproof wares on the river, we put them through their own audition and they passed with flying
colors--nary a drop of water worked its way to contaminate contents within. On the detail side, outside
edges are reinforced with a sewn binding, meaning separation is highly unlikely. Flatheads have elliptical
bottoms (essentially flat) while Blockheads have a grocery-sack style, three-dimensional bottom. Both
styles seal with a roll-down closure with a snap buckle and a feature a D-ring tie down.
marketplace review
GEAR
Smiley
If Jerry Garcia wore noseplugs, Smiley's, made by Durango, Colo's Shaman Products, would no doubt be
the ones to adorn his snout. In addition to a nose- conforming, U-shaped wire with padded rubber ends,
each plug comes with an optional hippie-style bead at the end of the attachment system, guaranteed to
complement any necklace or anklet. Proudly proclaiming that it produces a noseplug to fit any size nose,
and that its products will "keep you smiling under the water," Smiley's offers its nasal- blocking wares in
a variety of colors, with the beads included at no extra charge. Suggested retail is $6.95. Winfo.: (505)
242-9599, (888)-SHAMINS
marketplace review
GEAR
skills
Surfing Solo
If you paddle left, start off by choosing waves on river right--they will be easier to attain from a river
right eddy. A pry is a stronger stroke than a draw and can be used as you enter a wave from river right.
The pry should bring the bow angle back upstream parallel to the current, which will help prevent you
from being blown off the wave towards the center of the river. The converse is true if you paddle
right--choose a wave close to an eddy on river left and again use a pry to bring the bow upstream. Two
other considerations are boat angle and boat speed. Make sure your canoe doesn't have too much angle
when you enter the main current. Your bow should be facing almost directly upstream when you enter
the main current; then adjust your angle enough to carry your craft to the sweet spot. Lack of speed will
also impede surfing and often results in your canoe flushing downstream. Watch the wave trough
carefully and monitor your position. If you see the hull of your canoe moving back off the wave apply
some forward momentum with your on-side power stroke and rudder. When carving back and forth, use
your on-side power stroke and rudder to initiate changes in direction.
Helpful Hints
If you are still having trouble surfing, practice proper body rotation with your thumbs-up J-stroke (power
stroke with a rudder). You might also want to practice basic single blade skills, including an efficient
power stroke with an effective rudder, and a stern draw and pry executed with outboard hand positions.
Eliminate cross over strokes, as they are weak and slow to execute, and never use reverse sweeps, as they
will kick you down stream off the wave. Also make sure your paddle is not too short--I am 5' 9" and use
a 59-inch paddle. For my 6-foot-tall students I recommend a 62-inch paddle.
Going Tandem
Seating configurations and boat length affect the approach tandem paddlers take to surfing. There are
three basic tandem seat positions. Traditional lake or expedition canoes have the bow seat set almost
twice as far from the bow end of the canoe as the stern seat is from the stern end. This is ideal for longer
canoes and touring, but will not facilitate surfing.
Tandem whitewater multi-day tripping canoes that boast four-plus inches of rocker over 14 to 16 feet and
have decent payload are often outfitted with bow and stern seats placed equidistant from each end. With
seats placed towards the ends of the canoe, this creates a compromise: moderate surfing control is
achieved, and the bow paddler can provide forward momentum and execute draws and cross-bow draws.
For pure tandem whitewater playboating , place the seats in the Gemini position, where both paddlers sit
equal distance from the bow and stern but in the midsections of the craft. This arrangement allows the
best control for tandem surfers. A tandem playboat is generally 14 feet or less and has four inches or
more of rocker with a beam of less than 30 inches. The bow paddler has almost as much control as the
stern paddler and can execute a rudder to control surfing when carving away from team's paddling side.
The stern paddler can execute a rudder and control the craft when carving toward the bow paddler's side.
The paddler who is not controlling with a rudder is responsible for applying forward momentum when
needed.
--Douglas Wipper, a former director of the National Canoeing Schools of Canada, is the
director of the Steamboat Springs Canoeing School in Steamboat Springs, Colo. He has
instructed canoeing for universities and private camps for more than 30 years.
destinations
Table of Contents
Features
Eddylines
Letters to the editor.
Hotline
Scott Shipley elected Man of the New Millennium; a first-hand account of the Illinois River tragedy, a
leech-filled canoe race in Belize; a cartwheel-tumbling waterfall rodeo; and more!
Innuendos
A field guide to Grand Canyon motor rigs. by Roy Webb
Another round of perplexing puzzles for paddlers. by Kristy McGill
Paddle People
Paddling with Kulu, a 6'6" raft guide from Africa; and Pacific Northwest dugout paddler Betty
Lowman Carey.
Health
by Buck Tilton
Misery in Motion: how to combat motion (urp!) sickness.
Paddle Tales
Rocky rafting on the Jarbridge; a raft inflates inside a Volkswagen; Operation Rescue Tube; and
more!
First Descents
by Nathan Taylor Ward
Sea kayaking Mongolia's Dark Blue Pearl.
ECO
World-wide Dam Day unites river activists; Ontario's wilderness up for grabs; a proposal to remove
dams on the Snake; and more.
Frames
Marketplace Review
GADGETS
A double-burner collapsible stove; walkie-talkies for watersports; and a survival kite for
sea kayaking.
BOOK AND VIDEO REVIEWS
Skills
Destinations
Flipside
WES T
school stats
Paddling Club: BSU Kayak Club; 25 members.
Special Paddling Events: Weekly organized trips.
Most Popular Paddling Spot: Payette River, 40 minutes; and the 36th street surf wave at flows above
5,000 cfs.
Top Post-Paddle Eatery and Watering Hole: Lucky 13 in Boise for day trips; and Danskin Station
near the South Fork Payette take-out.
Local Paddlesports Shop: Idaho River Sports, (208) 336-4998, (800) 936-4844
Student Population (Undergraduate/Graduate): 4,440--all undergrad
Town Population: NA
In-state/Out-of-state Student Ratio: 90/10
Annual Undergraduate Tuition (In-state/Out-of-state): $1,147/ $4,087
Percent Undergraduate Applicants Accepted: 86.6 percent
Minimum Entry Requirements: NA
school stats
Paddling Club: Durango Whitewater; the club's annual fundraiser is the town's social event of the
year.
Special Paddling Events: Animas River Days, held in late June.
Most Popular Paddling Spot: Smelter Rapid and the Santa Rita playhole on the Animas.
Top Post-Paddle Eatery and Watering Hole: Like any true boating town, you can enjoy different
brewpubs every night of the week. Carvers, Gazpacho, Milans, Steamworks, and Skinny's are all
owned or managed by paddlers.
Local Paddlesports Shop: Four Corners River Sports, (800) 4CORNER, (970) 259-3893,
www.riversports.com; and Southwest Whitewater (970) 259-8313.
Student Population (Undergraduate/Graduate): 12,000/744
Town Population: 15,000
In-state/Out-of-state Student Ratio: 70/30
Annual Undergraduate Tuition (In-state/Out-of-state): $1,090/$3,120
Percent Undergraduate Applicants Accepted: 86.6 percent
Minimum Entry Requirements: 2.0 Cumulative GPA; 22 ACT/1020 SAT
school stats
Paddling Club: Center Activities Office, (707) 826-3357
Special Paddling Events: Annual trip to a faraway destination.
Top Post-Paddle Eatery and Watering Hole: Toby and Jack's Bar on Arcata's Plaza; Six Rivers
Brewing Company in nearby McKinleyville. For sushi and live music try Cafe Tomo; for Italian go to
Abruzzi.
Local Paddlesports Shop: Adventure's Edge, (707) 822-4673
Most Popular Paddling Spots: Trinity River (whitewater), 40 miles, and Redwood Creek
(whitewater), 20 miles; Moonstone Beach (surf kayak), 10 miles; Big Lagoon (flatwater), 17 miles.
Student Population: 7,500
Town Population: NA
In-state/Out-of-state Student Ratio: 96/4
Annual Undergraduate Tuition (In-state/Out-of-state): $1,886/ $9,266
Percent Undergraduate Applicants Accepted: 73 percent
Minimum Entry Requirements: Average entering GPA: 3.2; Average SAT: 1100
school stats
Paddling Club: ISU Outdoor Program, 800 participants per year; (208) 236-3912.
Special Paddling Events: It's all in the heart of Idaho's River Country
Most Popular Paddling Spot: Snake River, Jackson Hole, Wyo., 20 minutes.
Local Paddlesports Shop: Scott's Ski & Sports (208) 232-1449; Canyon Whitewater Supply, (208)
522-3932
Student Population (Undergraduate/Graduate): 9,876/2,010
Town Population: 116,300
In-state/Out-of-state Student Ratio: 93/7
Annual Undergraduate Tuition (In-state/Out-of-state): $1,090/$3,120
Percent Undergraduate Applicants Accepted: 88.6 percent
Minimum Entry Requirements: Average entering GPA: 3.16; Average ACT: 21
school stats
Paddling Club: Lewis and Clark Paddling Club (40 members), (503) 768-7432.
Special Paddling Events: Hosted the 1998 USCKT Pool Slalom Nationals.
Most Popular Paddling Spot: The Upper Clackamas River, 5 miles.
Local Paddlesports Shop: Alder Creek Kayak Supply; (503) 285-0464
Student Population (Undergraduate/Graduate): 1,845/1,229
Town Population: 448,200
In-state/Out-of-state Student Ratio: 30/70
Annual Undergraduate Tuition: $18,530
Percent Undergraduate Applicants Accepted: 66 percent
Minimum Entry Requirements: Average GPA: 3.3 to 3.9; Average SAT: 1150 to 1310
school stats
Paddling Club: SOU Outdoor Program, (541) 552-6470.
Special Paddling Events: Freshman Rogue Orientation, fall; North Umpqua trip, winter; Guide
Camp, spring.
Most Popular Paddling Spot: Nugget run on the Rogue River, 30 minutes.
Top Post-Paddle Eatery and Watering Hole: The "pub crawl" up and down Ashland's strip;
micro-brew and music at the Ashland Creek Bar & Grill and Siskiyou Brew Pub.
Local Paddlesports Shop: Medford, 12 minutes north on Interstate 5.
Student Population: 5,130 (Graduate/Under-graduate: 402/4,728)
Town Population: 18,560
In-state/Out-of-state Student Ratio: 81/19
Annual Undergraduate Tuition (In-state/Out-of-state): $3,204/$9,153
Percent Undergraduate Applicants Accepted: 88 percent
Minimum Entry Requirements: Average entering GPA: 3.22
school stats
Paddling Club: Campus Recreation Outdoor Program, 600 members; (406) 243-5172
Special Paddling Events: Lectures by big name boaters each year.
Most Popular Paddling Spot: Blackfoot and Lochsa Rivers, or Alberton Gorge on the Clark Fork.
Top Post-Paddle Eatery and Watering Hole: Brains and eggs at The Ox; Charlie's, where you'll find
an eclectic collection of boaters, cowboys, Native Americans, hippies, bikers, dignitaries and poets
(for eats, hit the Dinosaur Café in back for Cajun); the Iron Horse Brewery (more of a rafter hangout);
or Upstairs at Jay's for a punk music fix.
Local Paddlesports Shop: The Canoe Rack, (406) 549-8800; The Trailhead, (406) 543-6966; Board
of Missoula, (406) 721-7774
Student Population (Undergraduate/Graduate): 12,124
Town Population: NA
In-state/Out-of-state Student Ratio: 70/30
Annual Undergraduate Tuition (In-state/Out-of-state): $2,815/$7,676
Percent Undergraduate Applicants Accepted: 83 percent
Minimum Entry Requirements: 2.5 GPA, 22 ACT; 1997 freshman average GPA: 3.05.
school stats
Paddling Club: University Kayak Club, 300 members.
Special Paddling Events: With year-round paddling, every day is special.
Most Popular Paddling Spot: The Big Eddy section of the Skykomish river.
Top Post-Paddle Eatery and Watering Hole: Plenty of greasy spoons en route to your destination;
awesome micro-brew pubs on the way home.
Local Paddlesports Shop: The Northwest Outdoor Center, (800) 683-0637
Student Population (Undergraduate/Graduate): 20,448
Town Population: 1 million
In-state/Out-of-state Student Ratio: 90/10
Annual Undergraduate Tuition (In-state/Out-of-state): $3,486/$11,508
Percent Undergraduate Applicants Accepted: 65 percent
Minimum Entry Requirements: minimum 2.0 GPA; SAT or ACT required
CEN TRAL
school stats
Paddling Club: Recreation Services Program, (715) 682-1344
Special Paddling Events: Rock and Roll Program in conjunction with public schools that brings
students in for rolling clinics in the pool.
Most Popular Paddling Spot: River touring: Brule river, 35 miles; Whitewater: Montreal river, 20
miles. Louis River, 85 miles; Sea Kayaking: White River Reservoir, seven miles, Lake Superior, one
mile, and Apostle Islands National Lakeshore, 25 miles.
Top Post-Paddle Eatery and Watering Hole: A moonlit paddle to an abandoned sand spit or
sneaking through the woods and howling with the local Timber wolf packs.
Local Paddlesports Shop: Brule River Canoe Rental, (715) 372-4983; Trek and Trail, (715)
779-3595.
Student Population (Undergraduate/Graduate): 900
Town Population: 8,800
In-state/Out-of-state Student Ratio: 33/67
Annual Undergraduate Tuition (In-state/Out-of-state): $12,850/$17,475
Percent Undergraduate Applicants Accepted: 90 percent
Minimum Entry Requirements: NA
school stats
Paddling Club: UMD Kayak and Canoe Club, (218) 726-6177; 45 members.
Special Paddling Events: Frobay Canal beginners slalom; ACA certification; Two Harbors Kayak
Festival; St. Louis River Rodeo and Slalom.
Most Popular Paddling Spot: St. Louis Upper Run, five miles; Lake Superior waterfront and Lake
Superior Wave Surging Park Point, 1.5 miles.
Top Post-Paddle Eatery and Watering Hole: River Inn, Scanlon, Minn.; Fitgers Brewhouse, Duluth,
Minn.
Local Paddlesports Shop: Ski Hut, (218) 724-8525; North Star Bike and Board, (218) 525-7357;
Twin Ports Cyclery, (218) 722-0106.
Student Population (Undergraduate/Graduate): NA
Town Population: 86,600
In-state/Out-of-state Student Ratio: 88/12
Annual Undergraduate Tuition (In-state/Out-of-state): $3700/$10,590
Percent Undergraduate Applicants Accepted: 75
Minimum Entry Requirements: ACT: 19. Students should be in top 60 percent of high school class.
school stats
Paddling Club: Hoofers Outing Club, (608) 262-1630; 150 members.
Special Paddling Events: Hoofer Rodeo/Olympics and a yearly trip to Colorado.
Most Popular Paddling Spot: The Wolf River (Sections 3 and 4) and the Peshtigo, both four hours
from campus. Flats off Memorial Union Terrace--one minute from campus.
Top Post-Paddle Eatery and Watering Hole: Rawhide in Lakewood, Wis.; and the Angelic Brewery
in downtown Madison.
Local Paddlesports Shop: Carl's Paddln' Canoe and Kayak Center, (608) 284-0300; and Rutabaga,
(608) 223-9300.
Student Population (Undergraduate/Graduate): 26,641/13,000 graduate
Town Population: 200,000
In-state/Out-of-state Student Ratio: 64/36
Annual Undergraduate Tuition (In-state/Out-of-state): $3,240/$10,979
Minimum Entry Requirements: Average freshman ACT score 26; 99 percent of freshmen in top half
of high school class.
EAS T
school stats
Paddling Club: The Outdoor Program, 250 members; (829) 262-4953.
Special Paddling Events: Kayak rolling sessions; sea kayak trips to Cumberland Island and the
Everglades; and raft trips to the Nolichucky Gorge and French Broad.
Most Popular Paddling Spot: Sections 3 and 4 of the Watauga (15-25 minutes).
Top Post-Paddle Eatery and Watering Hole: The Cottonwood Brewery at Howard Street Grill,
(929) 264-7111.
Local Paddlesports Shop: Edge of the World, Banner Elk, N.C., (828) 898-9550
Student Population: 13,000
Town Population: 25,000
In-state/Out-of-state Student Ratio: 9 to 1
Annual Undergraduate Tuition (In-state/Out-of-state): $900/$4,500
Percent Undergraduate Applicants Accepted: 66 percent
Minimum Entry Requirements: Average GPA: 3.1; Average SAT: 1050
school stats
Paddling Club: Brevard Outing Club, 40 members; (704) 882-8292.
Special Paddling Events: Hosts the Southeastern Canoe Collegiate Championships.
Most Popular Paddling Spot: North Fork of the French Broad.
Top Post-Paddle Eatery and Watering Hole: the Sub-Pub.
Local Paddlesports Shop: Diamond Brand in Asheville, N.C.
Student Population: 650 undergraduate
Town Population: 10,000
In-state/Out-of-state Student Ratio: 40/60
Annual Undergraduate Tuition (In-state/Out-of-state): $7,500/$8,950
Percent Undergraduate Applicants Accepted: 75
Minimum Entry Requirements: NA
school stats
Paddling Club: Ledyard Canoe Club, 800 members; (603) 643-6709
Special Paddling Events: Mascoma Slalom (second weekend in April); Marathon Canoe Race on
Connecticut River (July 4 weekend); Sophomores from the Source of the Connecticut (July); Trip to
the Sea for Seniors (May); Spring Break trip to southern and central Appalachians.
Most Popular Paddling Spot: Sumner Falls (Hartland Rapid), 15 minutes.
Top Post-Paddle Eatery and Watering Hole: Thursday Night Feeds at the Club House.
Local Paddlesports Shop: Mitchell Paddle Company, Canaan, N.H.; Eastern Mountain Sports, West
Lebanon, N.H.
Student Population: 4,000
Town Population: 10,000
In-state/Out-of-state Student Ratio: NA
Annual Undergraduate Tuition: $23,000
Percent Undergraduate Applicants Accepted: 20
Minimum Entry Requirements: Average entering GPA: 3.7; Average SAT: 1440
school stats
Paddling Club: No clubs, therefore no dues, no mottoes, no meetings. GSU Aquatics Center is used
for kayak instruction and roll practice.
Special Paddling Events: Annual Instructor's School for whitewater and flatwater; and the Chattooga
River paddle and clean up.
Most Popular Paddling Spot: Whitewater: The Wave in downtown Atlanta, 15 minutes; the Metro
Hooch (Chattahoochee), 20 minutes; Ocoee River, 2 hours; Nantahala River, 3 hours. Flatwater: Lake
Hartwell, S.C., 3 hours; Okefenokee Swamp, 6 hours.
Top Post-Paddle Eatery and Watering Hole: Manuel's Tavern in Atlanta (after pool rolling
sessions).
Local Paddlesports Shop: Go With The Flow, (770) 992-3200
Student Population (Undergraduate/Graduate): 24,000
Town Population: 3 million and still going...and going...and going...
In-state/Out-of-state Student Ratio: 90/10
Annual Undergraduate Tuition: NA
Percent Undergraduate Applicants Accepted: 16,000 accepted in 1997; 2,000 enrolled.
Minimum Entry Requirements: Average GPA: 2.9; Average SAT: 1000
school stats
Paddling Club: Flatwater Canoe Racing Team (10 members) and Whitewater Paddling Club (six
members), (518) 327-6389. The headquarters of the United States Canoe and Kayak Team is located
25 miles away in Lake Placid, N.Y.
Special Paddling Events: North County Race Series (800) 327-1992; and Adirondack Canoe Classic,
a three-day, 90-mile stage race from Old Forge to Saranac Lake, N.Y.
Most Popular Paddling Spot: Lower St. Regis Canoe Area, adjacent to campus.
Top Post-Paddle Eatery and Watering Hole: After competitions Jim Tucker, director of intramural,
cooks for the racers; otherwise it's the campus cafeteria or local Burger King.
Local Paddlesports Shop: Jones Outfitters, (518) 523-3468.
Student Population: 750
Town Population: 200
In-state/Out-of-state Student Ratio: 80/20
Annual Undergraduate Tuition: $17,500 (includes room and board)
Percent Undergraduate Applicants Accepted: 90
Minimum Entry Requirements: Average entering GPA is 3.0
school stats
Paddling Club: UTK Canoe and Hiking Club, (423) 974-9749.
Special Paddling Events: Annual three-day Easter trip down Clear Creek.
Most Popular Paddling Spot: Whitewater: Little River, 45 miles; Ocoee River, 100 miles. Flatwater:
Lake Santeetlah, 60 miles.
Top Post-Paddle Eatery and Watering Hole: Barley & Hops Brewery; and the Tomato
Head--absolutely the best pizza, salads, and sandwiches around.
Local Paddlesports Shop: River Sports, (423) 523-0066.
Student Population: 26,000 (18,000 undergrads, 8,000 grads)
Town Population: 170,000
In-state/Out-of-state Student Ratio: 73/17
Annual Undergraduate Tuition (In-state/Out-of-state): $2,200/$6,556
Percent Undergraduate Applicants Accepted: 75 percent
Minimum Entry Requirements: Instate: 2.75 GPA and SAT > 720; Out-of-state: 3.0 GPA, Average
SAT: 1100
school stats
Paddling Club: School-sponsored teams for all disciplines, with an Olympic-sized pool and
competition pond.
Special Paddling Events: Benner Cup, Styrofoam Cup, Pool Slalom Championships, Paddling Work
Crew, and a host of Southeast slalom races.
Most Popular Paddling Spot: Whitewater: Swannanoa River on campus; French Broad River (15
minutes); Green River (1 hour); Nantahala River (1.5 hours). Flatwater: slalom gates and dock at the
on-campus pond; Lake Julian, (15 minutes). Surf: Outer Banks (7 hours).
Top Post-Paddle Eatery and Watering Hole: Salsa's Mexican and Caribbean Cuisine; Barley's
Taproom--local brew and best pizza in town.
Local Paddlesports Shop: Diamond Brand in Hendersonville; Nantahala Outdoor Center, (828)
488-2175.
Student Population: 650 (90 percent live on campus)
Town Population: 65,000
In-state/Out-of-state Student Ratio: 23/77
Percent Undergraduate Applicants Accepted: 80 percent
Minimum Entry Requirements: Average high school GPA: 3.21.
10 Kid-Tested Rivers
By Buck Tilton
Homebound paddlers with babies take heart: just because you've
procreated doesn't mean you have to hang up your paddle.
Providing you have the skill, desire and diapers, there are plenty of
places to paddle where you can still get your feet wet with the
family--and you won't have to worry about finding a babysitter.
My 9-month-old son, Zachary, completely absorbed in the sandy bank
of the lower Green River, pays no attention to cigar-chewing Wild Bill.
Kneeling nearby, Bill explains the fine points of using the portable
toilet he has rented us. Bill works for Tex's Riverways of Moab, Utah,
which we hired to shuttle us to the put-in, and to pick us up in a jet
boat at the take-out 115 miles downstream where the Green meets the
Colorado River. The required toilet will ride near my feet as we canoe
down water administered by Canyonlands National Park and the
Bureau of Land Reclamation. Emblazoned in orange on the side of the
stainless steel toilet box are three square letters: "TEX." So Tex
becomes the fourth passenger in our canoe. Without regard for "Tex,"
Zach will continue to deposit his waste products in his diapers.
This trip is for us, mom and dad. But as Zach's first extended wilderness journey, it is especially for him.
I believe a great many of those things that will help form him into the finest man will come from visiting
wild, untrammeled spaces. We started with day trips, and then overnighters, before progressing to shove
off on a long trip. No parents, our shuttle driver says, have ever taken someone as young as Zachary on
the lower Green. But we are comfortable here, and he will be too, because we are. Back home in the
mountains of Colorado one of us cares for him constantly. Here on the river both of us will provide care.
If there is a risk, I think it is only that he could grow up without the experience of wilderness.
We shove off, Bill waves his cigar, and the river, flowing peacefully, carries us around the first
meandering bend. Leaning over the gunwale, Zachary trails his tiny fingers in the brown water, lifting his
hand to watch in fascination as drops fall back into the river. With plans for hours of paddling or days of
paddling, the basic care of kids in canoes doesn't change. His bright red personal flotation device is
tethered to his mom's PFD by three feet of yellow nylon rope. If he somehow manages to plop over the
side, he won't plop far.
I chose the Green in the low-water month of October because of its gentle nature and mild climate. In
later summer and early fall the heat rises tremendously. But, I wondered, how would Zach take to hours
in a small slim space? Would he attempt to abandon ship? Would he cry for the shoreline? I cut and
shaped a foamlite pad to soften the bottom of the canoe, and he crawls around in the bow, in front of his
mom, or hangs over the side, or sits and watches the easy flight of great blue herons. He likes it just fine.
Behind mom sits the cooler containing a block of ice and food. She can reach it easily for a Zach-snack.
We have made no special dietary accommodations for the river. Zach eats what he always eats: crackers
and yogurt and small jars of mushy substances that vary only in color. To combat dehydration, the cooler
contains diluted Gatorade, and a sippy cup is always tied to Zach's PFD. Behind the cooler sit two small
mounds, plastic garbage bags within plastic garbage bags, the one holding clean diapers increasingly
dwarfed by the one that carries dirty diapers. By the end of the trip the dirty diapers will number 40,
taking up surprisingly little space in the canoe. In front of and behind me, the disgustingly proud dad, I've
crammed the tent and sleeping bags and clothes and food, all stuffed into waterproof drybags.
Even with fall beginning to paint the cottonwoods gold, the sun burns. So Zach wears his wide-brimmed
red hat--a soft, snug-fitting hat with straps that tie under his chin. He wears long-sleeved, long-legged,
lightweight cotton suits during the heat of the day, and sunscreen, SPF 30, on the back of his hands and
on his ears and the lower part of his face. I have C-clamped a black umbrella to the bow of the canoe
where, curled on the pad, he takes his morning and afternoon naps in shade. We fear sunburn more than
an unexpected dip.
Where the lower Green is not lined with vertical stone walls, the tamarisks and willows grow
impenetrably dense. Easy landing spots are few and far between on the high muddy banks, and our
campsites rest on sandbars that jut out from river bends or on white sand islands. Zachary, who
scrambles on all fours with amazing speed, demands constant attention when we are on shore. In order to
set the tent and kitchen with maximum peace of mind, we empty the canoe each evening and drag it well
onto the sand. With a collection of his favorite toys, Zach usually plays in the Tripper long enough for
about half the work to be done.
We, the parents, have chosen sleeping bags that zip together. In this case the whole is greater than the
sum of the parts, and Zach sleeps nestled between us, sharing pleasant heat through the chilly nights. He
sleeps wrapped in a soft pile blanket wearing a pile suit and a pile cap and pile socks. He wears a pile
jacket and pile bib overalls during the cold early and late parts of the day. The synthetic material holds in
body heat well and dries quickly after it gets damp, which it does often, the result of Zach's love of
splashing in anything wet. Our morning and evening food cooks on a small backpacking stove that burns
white gas. By mid-trip Zach has begun to smell more like sand than baby, and the pot on the stove heats
bath water prior to dinner. The hot water, tempered by the addition of river water, goes into a five-gallon
plastic bucket which serves not only as camp stool and dry storage but also as bathtub.
I know, as I watch his gaiety in the bath, he will not consciously remember the Green River. I believe,
though, that something of the peace and splendor has taken up residence in his subconscious. How much
of who he will become was there when he was born? How much develops under the influence of how we
raise him? I can't answer those questions. But I am confident that nature's way is perfect.
The morning of the last day, after a short paddle, we wait at the confluence for the pre-arranged ride up
the Colorado River. Zachary sits beside me in the shade of the umbrella, chanting "da da" in between
nibbles off a sandy cracker. I can't honestly say it has all been easy, this first trip with Zach, but I can say
it has been rich with irresistible marvels, part natural, part human. And I know that this little person next
to me, growing and learning, will be better off because of it. Putting a final few words in our journal, I
begin plans for our next adventure.
10 Kid-Tested Rivers
Green River, Utah
The Green flows first through high desert administered by the Bureau of Land Management, and later
through the utterly magnificent, sandstone depths of Labyrinth and Stillwater canyons within
Canyonlands National Park. Many dry side-canyons will entice you to explore their mysterious depths on
foot. Anasazi ruins, sometimes perched magically on vertical rock walls, sometimes protected by
prominent overhangs, are often visible from the river. Coyotes, deer, and desert bighorn sheep come to
the water's edge to drink. From the town of Green River, Utah, you can paddle 23 kid-friendly miles to a
take-out at Ruby Ranch, or 68 miles to a take-out at Mineral Bottom. You can put in at Crystal Geyser
and avoid the town and the first five miles of river. No permits are required above Mineral Bottom. The
river flows approximately 52 miles from Mineral Bottom to its confluence with the Colorado, through
the Park where a permit is required (cost $10). Canoe rentals and shuttles are available in Moab. For
more information contact: Bureau of Land Management, San Rafael Resource Area, 900 North 700 East,
Price, UT 84501, (801) 637-4584; or Canyonlands National Park, 2282 SW Resource Blvd., Moab, UT
84532, (801) 259-5277.
Suwannee River, Georgia and Florida
Out of Georgia's Okefenokee Swamp, past moss-laden cypresses and tupelos, sometimes in the shadow
of overhanging limestone, the blackwater of the Suwannee River flows easily for 240 miles to the Gulf of
Mexico. Below Ellaville, Fla., the river widens and slows past buildings and bridges, losing some of its
Old South quiet charm. But it's the first 35 undeveloped miles or so that you and your children should
see, from Fargo, Ga., to Big Shoals, just above White Springs, Fla. There's a take-out at Big Shoals
before the river drops over Florida's most dramatic version of whitewater. If you want to add another
half-day to the trip, walk from the take-out down to the shoals for a look-see. You might decide you're
competent to make the run, or you can portage approximately 200 yards around the drop. White sandy
spits, with room for kids to run, offer fine camping on the upper river. Avoid camping where dirt roads,
indications of private land, approach the river. Go in October or early November when the heat and
humidity has dwindled and the bug swarms have thinned. Canoe rentals are available. No permits are
required. For more information contact: Florida Department of Natural Resources, Office of Greenways
and Trails, 325 John Knox Road, Bldg. 500, Tallahassee, FL 32303-4124; (904) 488-3701.
Upper Missouri River, Montana
The wild open plains of central Montana break and fall away to the lonely Upper Missouri River, the
1805 route of Lewis and Clark--and not much has changed on this section of the river since then. And if
Sacagawea made the trip in those early times with her newborn son, it's a sure bet you can do the same
with a modern-day toddler.
From Fort Benton to the Fred Robinson Bridge on US 191, just inside the Charles M. Russell National
Wildlife Refuge, you'll find 150 kid-friendly miles. The current, running between 3-4 mph, could carry
you the distance in five easy days. You'll pass bottoms thick with cottonwoods, sandstone cliffs rising
vertically from the water, and natural rock sculptures before you enter the Montana "badlands" where
erosion has carved a three-dimensional tapestry. Keep your eyes peeled for elk, mule and white-tailed
deer, coyotes, and pronghorn antelopes. Campsites abound along the shores. Early September provides
the crispness and solitude of fall, but snow often falls by early October. Canoe rentals are available. No
permits are required. For more information contact: Bureau of Land Management, River Manager,
Airport Road, Lewiston, MT 59457; (406) 538-7461.
Niobrara River, Nebraska
Across northern Nebraska, dispelling the myth that this state lies flat and uninteresting, the Niobrara
River runs through a valley several hundred feet deep in places. Near the river you'll find a unique
meeting of three vast forests: Rocky Mountain, Eastern and Great Northern. Ponderosa pines grow near
red cedars which grow near paper birches. Above the valley, grass-covered sand dunes roll away for
thousands of square miles--the Sandhills of Nebraska. In three unhurried days you can paddle the 76
miles of the Niobrara designated Wild and Scenic. From the town of Valentine, Neb., after
approximately five miles, you'll enter the Fort Niobrara National Wildlife Refuge. You won't see them
from your canoe, but if you have time, stop and take the kids on a search for bison, elk and a herd of
Texas longhorn cattle. About 11 miles from the put-in you can camp at Smith Falls State Park and see the
state's tallest waterfall. Campgrounds along the river are often privately owned, and a fee is charged.
After 32 miles (where you can take-out) the bluffs grow less dramatic but the river flows gently on. Late
summer and early fall, especially on weekdays, offer cooler temperatures and less traffic. Canoe rentals
are available. No permits are required. For more information contact: Valentine Visitors Center, (800)
658-4024.
Buffalo River, Arkansas
Protected as our first National River, the Buffalo splashes through a steep-walled Ozark Mountains
canyon for its first 25 twisting miles. Below the put-in at the town of Pruitt, the Buffalo stretches 100
free-flowing miles beneath picturesque ledges and limestone bluffs that lift at times more than 300 feet
above the flat water. The Buffalo ranks as one of the most pristine waterways left in the U.S. One of your
most difficult decisions will be which lovely wooded or gravel bar campsite to choose each night. When
the weather is warm, the swimming holes are irresistible. You and the kids can enjoy short side trips to
caves, ghost towns and historic sites. After 50 miles, below Gilbert, you'll find 15 miles of popular
day-tripping water. The last 40 miles of the river, to a take-out at its confluence with the White River, are
seldom paddled, providing a rare opportunity to be alone with your children and migratory birds, herons
and hawks, deer, otters and beavers. In spring the forest burns with colors of azalea, laurel, rosebud and
rhododendron. Canoe rentals are available. No permits are required. For more information contact:
Buffalo National River, P. O. Box 1173, Harrison, AR 72602; (501) 741-5443.
Namekagon River, Wisconsin
From its beginning near Cable in northwestern Wisconsin to its confluence with the Saint Croix River,
the Namekagon runs for about 98 clean, clear miles, a tributary of and included in the Saint Croix
National Scenic Riverway. Three short portages around dams are necessary to complete the entire
Namekagon River, but numerous put-ins below the dams allow you to paddle portage-free. The
abundance of put-ins gives you the chance to tailor your trip to your time schedule. This river will prove
spicy for novices. You'll find several Class I rapids and a few narrow chutes. But with a depth averaging
two to three feet and a width seldom extending beyond 50 feet, the Namekagon offers excellent family
paddling if you have some experience in easy rapids. Much of the river provides quiet water running
through swampy areas or beneath sandy banks topped with birch, oak and pine. Most of the shoreline lies
under the administration of the National Park Service, and campsites are plentiful. Eagles and herons,
deer and smaller mammals are commonly seen along the river, and black bears have been known to raid
food caches. From late May to early September the river can be run comfortably; the rest of the year
tends to be chilly. Canoe rentals are available. No permits are required. For more information contact:
National Park Service, P. O. Box 100, Trego, WI 54888; (715) 635-8346.
Neches River, Texas
Slow-moving, without rapids or obstacles, the Neches River meanders across the forests and meadows of
eastern Texas and through Big Thicket National Preserve. The placid water eases down bayou corridors,
beneath mixed cypress, hardwoods and pines. With many put-in options, you can plan a trip from one to
seven days, camping with your young ones on sandbars. Early spring offers pleasant weather and days
without the bother of mosquitoes and biting flies. Fall and early winter, also a great time to go, bring a
closure on camping in some areas due to hunting traffic. Canoe rentals are available. Backcountry
camping permits are required. For more information contact: Big Thicket National Preserve, 3785 Milan,
Beaumont, TX 77701; (409) 839-2689.
Saco River, Maine
The Saco River, as it leaves New Hampshire and crosses southern Maine to the Atlantic Coast, offers
extraordinary opportunities of kid-tested paddling. One of New England's cleanest waterways, the Saco's
typically sandy bottom is an invitation to swim in summer. Tall trees shade numerous sandbar campsites.
An abundance of put-ins and take-outs allow you to plan a trip as short as four miles or as long as 70.
Twenty miles of river from Swans Falls, near Fryeburg, to the Brownfield Bridge on State Route 160
attracts the most paddlers, and summer weekends and holidays can be downright crowded. Brownfield
Bridge to Hiram, a distance of about 14 miles, winds through peaceful countryside and sees medium use.
From Hiram to the coast at Biddeford, the Saco provides pleasant canoeing with scenic views for another
40 miles. The light use of this section of river can be partially explained by the necessity of five short
portages around dams, and the possibility of portages around a couple of rapids that can be treacherous at
some water levels. Fall, colored gloriously by the changing foliage, is an excellent time to see the Saco.
Canoe rentals are available. Permits are not required. For more information contact: Biddeford-Saco
Chamber of Commerce, 180 Main Street, Biddeford, ME 04005; (207) 282-1567.
Yampa River, Colorado
The last major tributary of the Colorado River to remain undammed, the Yampa River flows placidly for
approximately 60 miles from Craig, Colo., to Maybell, Colo., past stunning northern Colorado scenery
and a paradise of wildlife that often includes deer and antelope, turkey vultures and herons. Below
Maybell the river turns extremely dangerous as it enters Cross Mountain Canyon. Put in on Highway 13
where it crosses the river below Craig and you lose about nine miles of quiet water but also lose the
unappealing paddle through Craig. Duffy Canyon, about 20 miles long, offers dramatic trip highlights:
pastel "badland" walls sloping a thousand feet down to the greenish-brown river. Lovely campsites
shaded by cottonwoods will give you and the kids a chance to stretch your legs exploring. A rapid below
Juniper Hot Springs, not recommended for open canoes, demands a portage. Or you can take out above
the rapid, missing the last six miles before Maybell. Low water can ruin your trip because you'll be
walking more than paddling. Spring, after high water subsides, typically provides the best conditions.
Canoe rentals are available. No permits are required. For more information contact: Bureau of Land
Management, Little Snake Resource Area, 1280 Industrial Avenue, Craig, CO 81625; (970) 824-4441.
Colorado River, California and Arizona
Famous for some of the most spectacular scenery and whitewater in the world, the Colorado River runs
quiet and smooth near its end where it forms the California/Arizona boundary. From a put-in at Moabi
Regional Park, Calif., the river enters Havasu National Wildlife Refuge and Topock Gorge,
approximately 18 miles of serene and strikingly beautiful paddling. At Devil's Elbow red rock walls soar
hundreds of feet higher than the blue-green water. Picture Rock stands covered with numerous Indian
petroglyphs, designs and figures of unknown meaning chiseled into the very stone. Tell the kids to watch
for desert bighorn sheep, often caught silently standing far above the canoes. Numerous species of birds
call this area home, and thousands of migratory birds may be seen from October to May. You can camp
at Moabi Park for a fee, and along the Arizona shoreline south of the Gorge. No camping is allowed
within Topock Gorge. Canoe rentals are available. No permit is required. For more information contact:
Havasu National Wildlife Refuge, 1406 Bailey Avenue, Needles, CA 92363; (619) 326-3853.
I have to be honest. I did not attend a college known for its paddling. Only
a few people I knew had kayaks--Will Gadd, Pete Foster and Jim
Grossman--and all three were well beyond the patience threshold of
teaching beginners the sport. As if to remind classmates of their
unconventional leisure pursuit, their boats were hung with webbing and
carabiners beneath dorm room balconies in plain view of students
shuffling off to class. Eugene Buchanan
The insides of their rooms also broke traditional decorating norms. Where
most were adorned with theusual sampling of rock-and-roll posters, theirs
were plastered with paddling pictures and littered with wet paddling gear.
Always one to pick up on the latest fashions, the obsession eventually
rubbed off on me. I bought my first kayak--a black, Titanic-sized
Hollowform--in the fall of my senior year and soon found myself soaring
off the highdive of the school pool. Eventually other neophytes and I graduated to mellow runs on the
nearby Arkansas River. All this paved the way for my first stint as a trip leader on a five-day Spring
Break jaunt down Utah's San Juan River.
Despite The Colorado College (emphasis placed on the "The") being a liberal arts school, its liberalness
didn't extend to paddling. Even though the school's Block Plan system--where students take one class at a
time for three and a half weeks and then have a four-day break--lends itself perfectly to a boater's
driftwood lifestyle, books garnered more attention than boats. The outdoor program offered courses in
camping and climbing, but paddling was as foreign as Chemistry to an English major.
That I didn't attend a college with a strong paddling program doesn't mean such learning establishments
don't exist. Au contraire (a term I learned in French class, Block 2). There are, scattered throughout the
country, a smattering of colleges and universities where paddling--be it touring or tackling
whitewater--comes into play almost as much as academia. These schools are located close to waterways,
have strong student-sponsored paddling programs, and have student union ride boards listing as many
boats for sale as beds. To celebrate these paddling/academia strongholds is this issue's cover story on the
Nation's Best Paddle Colleges.
Like your average liberal arts curriculum, this issue has plenty else to offer as well, from a look at four
Northeast Canoe Classics in Destinations to reviews of touring tops and touring kayaks. You'll also
notice a special Innuendos section on Perplexing Puzzles for Paddlers, Part II. If nothing else, this will
give the students among you--at least those lucky enough to attend one of our Top Paddle
Colleges--something to keep you busy as you daydream during class about playing hooky to go paddling.
Just don't let your professor catch a glimpse of your doodles--he or she just might cut the lecture short to
join you.
--Eugene Buchanan
eddylines
Crack Addict
I think your last (Feb. '98) magazine was awesome! The section on the nation's top play spots was great,
then finishing it with a Buyer's Guide made it even better. I couldn't agree with you more on your article
about the nation's top playspots. I've been paddling for five years now and this magazine really does
inspire me to get out and paddle more. I live in Florida so it's kind of hard to get up to my favorite
playspots--but there is still the ocean, so I have plenty of fun. Also, please don't ever get rid of the
"Ender" photos--they are hysterical. Especially the "One crack deserves another" one.
--Brad Glover, Jacksonville, Florida
Quartzite Qualm
Although I have become accustomed to finding haystack waves of useful river information in each issue
of Paddler, on those occasions when you bravely dare to delve into eco-political issues, the flow of
things seems to come up shallow and rocky. Thus, while I was intrigued by Eugune Buchanan's "In the
Shadow of Quartzite" (April 1998)--particularly after I had just visited the Salt River--as I read the article
I kept peering anxiously around the corners of the pages, hoping in vain that the philosophical waters
being explored would deepen and take me beyond the dull confines of simplistic wilderness
sentimentality.
While it was amusing to read that Pam Hyde of American Rivers "feel(s) violated" by the demolition of
Quartzite Falls (as if she had assumed the role of Mother Nature herself), and that Paul Mischu of the
Central Arizona Paddling Club "feel(s) like a part of (him) is gone," I would have preferred a less
emotional, more rational discussion of wilderness ethics. On the other hand, if your article was just about
emotions, why not delve into those felt by people who had actually run old Quartzite Falls? Your article
also left me with the impression that Friends of the River founder Mark Dubois is more comfortable in a
recirculating eddy than in a philosophical forum, as he artfully feather-paddled his way from stark naked
tautology ("wilderness is meant to be wilderness") to the horns of a false dilemma ("Do we let nature be
what it is...or do we put handrails on everything?"). Were any of these ecotopians able to set aside their
emotions for a true discussion of wilderness ethics, they would have to face the fact that the Quartzite
incident is simply a classic example of the "tragedy of the commons," whereby conflicting citizen
demands on scarce, government-monopolized resources inevitably result in wasted resources. Everyone
has romantic notions of what a wilderness should be. My perspective, however, is broad enough to
recognize the equal moral standing of those who desire to navigate the falls in a more convenient manner
and are willing to pay for the privilege. I recently completed a solo inflatable kayaking trip down a
wilderness run on Arizona's Blue and San Francisco rivers. I was thrilled to discover on a side hike that
someone who had preceded me had constructed a large, comfortable soaking pool which captured the
waters of Hannah Creek Hot Springs. I suppose that the Salt River ecotopians would abhor such a
manmade accommodation.
--Richard Vinson, Center for Responsible Freedom, Novato, California
--To each his own (one can only guess why you had to go solo on your trip).
--Eds
Quartzite Congrats
You guys are awesome! The article on Quartzite Falls (April 1998) was great! I have had four calls from
it already: a guy in Arizona offering me a Salt permit (I couldn't take it, but nice thought); a woman in
North Carolina wanting more information and to become involved in showing the film in her
community; a woman in Denver who would like to hold an event in conjunction with her paddling club;
and a man in Texas (police chief) who is sending video footage of Quartzite Falls in action in the good
old days. Your support has given the project a big boost.
--Kristin Atwell, Watershed Productions, Palo Alto, California
Aloha Know-Ha
Maybe Tom Holtey should have done more homework in his story on paddling Hawaii (June 1998). The
Na Pali coast is not the safest trip for beginners; Ha'ena County Beach Park is not part of the State Park
system--it is a County of Kaua'i Park and requires a different government agency and permit; there are no
landing permits issued by the State for Nu'alolo Kai--you have to anchor off shore; and, finally, if you are
sea kayaking and camping at Kalalau, the wording for your State Park permit should mention that you
are kayaking and that you will need a "landing permit." Aloha.
--Chino Godinez, Kauai, Hawaii
Sit-on-top Subscriber
I have been subscribing to Paddler for less than a year. I first saw a copy about four years ago at a
paddling shop in California where I bought two sit-on-top Ocean Kayaks. (They've been a lot of fun in
the past four years and have seen time in the Pacific, reservoirs, lakes, rivers and a little whitewater).
Anyway, Paddler is great! I usually read it cover-to-cover. There are great anecdotal bits and good
humor; it is not a stuffy mag. Lots of information, skills and experience presented. Thanks, and keep up
the good work!
--Sporttcker@aol.com
Raft Shaft
I am a subscriber to Paddler. It seems the magazine has gone from a rafting publication to a kayaking
and canoe pub. Please remember the rafters. Why not compare cats? No one really has. What are the real
differences between 20-inch tubes and 24-inch tubes? How does the plastic Aire cat compare with the
rubber Hyside? How do they perform?
--Oldrafter@aol.com
--Check out this issue's story on "What's New in Inflatables," or our story on catarafts in
August 1996.
--Eds
Brighten Boats
My wife and I are ardent kayakers and have been reading your magazine for a year or two. Strangely, it
has never lit up my day the way my travel magazines do. Why not? It's depressing! The content is not
depressing, the color printing is. The cover of the recent issue features an attractive woman in a kayak
in...the Arctic Sea in December. Nearly every color rendering in the magazine is so drab and dark the
whole thing looks like a Scandinavian winter. Take a copy of Conde Nast Traveler or Travel and Leisure
to your printer and say: "Do it like this!" The text is great, please brighten up the colors.
--Doug Palmer palmer@home.com
Snow Job
I just read the article "Snow Kayaking" (Feb. 1998). It was excellent. Just the thought of another sport
being performed on the snowy mountains makes it interesting. Snow kayaking looks to be a very
exciting, challenging and dangerous sport. I am currently doing a project for my eighth-grade English
class on kayaking. This article broadened the topic and made it all the more fun to research. Now, not
only can I research and learn more about water kayaking, but I can do the same with snow kayaking. I
was glad to see that although there were a few close calls, nobody was hurt and the kayakers and crew
had a great time.
--Aaron Bolduc (location withheld)
--And here we thought it was just another dead-end, testosterone-filled article. Let us know
how the project goes over with your teacher.
--Eds
Norway Hooray
We just read "Canoeing One Man's Backyard" by Laurie Gullion (April 1998). It is of particular interest
to us because we were members of the expedition described so graphically by Laurie. Laurie said nice
things about us in her article, but she obviously didn't discuss the role she played with her outstanding
paddling skill, strength and upbeat personality (not to mention her foresight in producing a vat of spiced
rum when seven cold and exhausted hikers needed it most). Our group was indeed fortunate in our
leaders and companions who were all experienced, competent wilderness canoeists working together to
make this an outstanding and memorable adventure.
--Chet Harvey and Kathy Armstrong, cnk@mindspring.com
Hotline
Playhole
Paddlers have extra incentive to purchase lottery tickets in Colorado: even if winning millions isn't in the
stars, proceeds of your purchase will go towards paddling. Funds from the Colorado Lottery recently
financed the building of a new whitewater park in Golden, Colo.--on Clear Creek just upstream from
Coors Brewing Co.--bringing the Denver metro area's whitewater park total to four. The grand opening
for the latest addition, designed by Gary Lacey, took place June 7 as part of festivities for the Clear
Creek Whitewater Festival. Golden City Council and Charlie Fagan, head of the city's parks and
recreation department, became interested in the concept after a September 1994 story in Paddler
magazine detailed how other municipalities were supporting such venues. Planning for the park began in
1996 when Lacey submitted a $55,000 bid for the project. By the time construction was ready to start,
however, prices for supplies and labor had risen, prompting Lacey to return to the council in the fall of
1997 with a request for additional funds. The council ended up tripling the budget to $165,000, the total
price tag for the newly created facility.
--Stormy Colman
Mayor Mishap
After nearly dying on a trip down Idaho's Owyhee River last summer, former Portland, Ore., mayor Bud
Clark has some sage advice: don't take sagebrush for granted. Clark, 66, who retired from his mayor
position in 1992, ruptured the femoral artery in his left leg after falling on a sagebrush stump on the fifth
day of an 86-mile trip down the Owyhee. Forty-five minutes after a call went out for help, a helicopter
dropped into the canyon and flew him to a nearby hospital where he underwent emergency surgery. "I'd
never been in a situation like that before," he told NWA News, the club newsletter for the Northwest
Whitewater Association. "I'll go back next year, but I'm not going to take sagebrush for granted."
--Lee Hart
Waterfall Rodeo
It was bound to happen sooner or later. With kayakers running bigger and
bigger waterfalls, and at the same time developing rodeo moves that put
circus acrobats to shame, it was only a matter of time until the two pursuits
collided.
On May 1, 1998, dozens of kayakers converged on Washington's Lewis
River drainage for the beginning of a three-day paddlefest that included the
Canyon Creek Rodeo, the Canyon Creek Extreme Race and the Bob's Hole
Rodeo (on Oregon's Clackamas River). Unfortunately, low water turned
Canyon Creek's popular playhole-the Wheel-into little more than a wet
gravel pit. Event organizers saw the low water coming, however, and
combining the best of rodeo with the best of creek-boating, they diverted
competitors to Sunset Falls, a picturesque 15-foot waterfall nestled in the
upper reaches of the East Fork Lewis River. There, an event was kicked off
that likely had no predecessor anywhere...a waterfall rodeo.
For the first time ever, kayakers were judged on their ability to pull off
rock spins, waterwheels...and even jump out of their boats in mid-flight. Stressing that kids shouldn't try
such antics at home, judging started by simply giving points given for technical merit. By the end of the
festivities, however, it became clear that style carried more clout. Erin Miller, an up-and-coming boater
from Portland, Ore., took the Women's Division by juggling as she flew off the falls. "I forgot to account
for the drop when I started juggling," she says, "but I guess the judges liked it anyway." Jamie Simon, the
third-place finisher in the Women's Division and current holder of the women's waterfall height record,
found the event to be a natural. "A lot of people are running waterfalls for fun," she says. "So, why not
have a competition on one?"
As if the waterfall rodeo weren't enough, after the event competitors were able to paddle a few minutes
downstream to the homestead of Mike Olsen, one of the East Fork's best known paddlers, for an evening
of food, bluegrass music and beverages--all of which were as free-flowing as the water going over the
contest sight.
--Jeff Bennett
But Pacific Northwest weather forecasts are notoriously unreliable--especially in the year of El Niño.
Before the weekend was over, an unpredicted storm would fill rain gauges with three to 10 inches of rain,
swelling the river to 14,000 cfs. Three parties would attempt to run the river late enough that weekend
not to have cleared the Green Wall by Saturday night. Two would suffer fatalities. The only party to
emerge unscathed was captained by Gary Hough, 50, a theology teacher from Corvallis, Ore. With
Hough were his son Daniel, 17, and family friends Mike Kalk, 17, and Katherine Meyer, 24.
Anyone who's met Hough (pronounced "Huff") knows why his party survived when others died. Like
many experienced river runners, his sun-weathered face, rimmed by curly hair and a graying beard,
radiates strength and competence. But spend five minutes with him and something more important
emerges--an inner tranquility indicating that this man has no need to prove anything, to himself or
anyone else. "We don't look at the river as an amusement park or an athletic field," he says. "There were
days when I did, but I've come to see the river as a beautiful thing to be engaged on its own terms, not as
a contest." He and his crew were also alert to signs the weekend wasn't shaping up as planned. Almost
immediately after launching, the rain started in earnest and they joked about how the ensuing drenching
could have been called a "shower." Later, Daniel--himself a veteran of many rivers--noted that the
standing wave kicked up by a rapid rated as Class III "didn't look like any Class III wave I'd ever seen."
After the party camped a few miles above the Green Wall, conditions continued to deteriorate. The river
turned muddy, and they kept having to drag their raft higher and higher to keep it safe. By morning, the
river had risen more than 10 feet, and there were three-foot standing waves where previously there had
been flatwater.
It was at this point that Hough made the decision nobody else on the river that day made: his party would
stay put and ration its food for however long it took for rescue to arrive or the river to drop. "I'm not the
Michael Jordan of river rafting," he says, "And I know what I can't do. When the river has been coming
up a foot an hour all night, when it's gone from clear to chocolate milk, when there are no more eddies
and there are 18-inch trees going down at 15 mph--it's just not a tough decision." Hough also heard a
peculiar hissing noise coming from the river. "Anybody who's paid attention to a flooding river will
know it," he says. "There's the roar of the full-throated river, but on top of that, as if it's a layer you could
pick up and remove, there's the hiss. That hiss basically says, 'Keep your distance.'" He never wavered
from that decision, even when two other parties floated by--one, a fivesome on two rafts and a
one-person cataraft, and another party of five in three kayaks and a cataraft. A few days' idleness and
hunger wouldn't cause lasting harm--but the river could.
Downstream, the river was proving its power. The Green Wall kicked up a 12-foot standing wave that
capsized at least two craft. Other rapids flipped the rest of the rafts, and re-dumped those who
miraculously regained their craft below the Green Wall. In a two-mile maelstrom, one member of each
party drowned, and everyone but the kayakers were beached--wet, shivering and stripped of equipment.
One rafter suffered a dislocated shoulder, which he reset by the blindingly painful method of running
full-tilt into a tree. Rescue wouldn't arrive for nearly 24 hours, after the kayakers paddled out to summon
help.
Hough's party was unaware of the tragedy unfolding at the Green Wall. They spent a second night warm
and dry, camped on a grassy meadow, with a substantial stock of food. Their biggest worry was for loved
ones who didn't know they were safe. When rescue did arrive, midday Monday, they initially waved it
off so the helicopter could search for people in greater need. "But I did ask them to call my wife," Hough
remembers. "The guy they lowered on the cable wrote the number on his palm, and as they winched him
back up I just prayed it was waterproof ink."
In part, Hough credits his life-saving caution to the writings of St. Francis of Assisi, the 12th Century
monastic renowned for his love of nature. St. Francis viewed rivers as somewhat willful fellow creatures
of his God, and once wrote a blessing asking a river for its forbearance. "Sister River," he wrote, "our
Lord has made you strong and beautiful. Please treat us of your kindness." Hough likes to recite this
blessing before each outing. "Rivers flood without permission," he says. "Our approach is to recognize
when our sister is playing too rough."
--Richard Lovett
Believe it or not...
a report from the conservation trenches
By David Bookbinder, ACA Director of Environmental Enforcement
Webster's College Dictionary defines absurd as "utterly or obviously senseless, illogical, or untrue;
contrary to all reason or common sense; laughably foolish or false." Strict as this standard is, do not be
fooled into thinking that absurdity is in short supply, at least in the conservation world. Here are two
examples from various piles on my desk.
In Perry, Fla., is a pulp and paper mill owned by Buckeye Florida. The mill takes virtually the entire flow
of the Fenholloway River, uses it as process water for the plant, and then discharges it back into the
riverbed. You can imagine what the Fenholloway looks like downstream all the way to the Gulf of
Mexico: water the color of black coffee and so laden with toxins that female fish have been turning up
with male sex organs. Sadly, what the mill was doing--and had been doing for decades--was perfectly
legal, because Florida classified the river for "industrial use." Then came the good news: on Jan. 1,
Florida reclassified the Fenholloway a Class III waterway, meaning it has to be clean enough for fishing
and swimming. Terrific, we thought. This will force Buckeye to clean up its act. Then came the bad
news. Buckeye didn't want to spend the money necessary to clean up its discharge, so it came up with a
stunningly novel proposal. Instead of discharging the wastewater back into the riverbed, where it would
have to meet those pesky "fishable/swimmable" water quality standards, Buckeye would build an
18-mile pipeline to take the effluent and dump it just offshore in the Gulf of Mexico. Talk about killing
two birds with one stone: destroying the river by dewatering it, while wreaking havoc on a completely
new ecosystem.
Buckeye's plan--what some conservationists have jokingly called the first entry in the National "Rivers to
Trails" Program--was not the ultimate absurdity. That came when the Florida Department of
Environmental Protection approved and endorsed the idea, and issued the necessary permits. (It makes
you wonder what the Florida Department of Environmental Destruction would have done.) Never fear;
this story has a happy ending. The American Canoe Association (ACA) joined with local citizens in
appealing the permits, and in March the federal Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) lived up to its
name and killed the project...at least temporarily. The plant still needs a new permit, and with folks as
creative as those at Buckeye and as gullible as Florida DEP, we can't wait to see what they try next.
Here is another example.
The Utah Department of Transportation (UDOT) is building a four-lane highway through Provo Canyon
to replace the two-lane road that winds along the Provo River. The Army Corps of Engineers' permit for
the project specified that the road had to be eight feet from the river's high water mark. In February, I
received a call from an ACA member in Salt Lake City. "Hey," he said, "there's this road project in Provo
Canyon and UDOT's supposed to keep it at least eight feet from the river and I've been down on the site
and they're staking it closer."
"How close?" I asked.
"Into the river," he said.
"What do you mean, into the river?"
"I mean," he explained patiently, "I just took a bunch of pictures that show the markers for the retaining
walls are actually behind the high water mark stakes and out into the river."
He was right--UDOT was planning to build the road out into the river. At first they denied it. Then they
admitted it. Then UDOT blamed their contractor for not following the plans. The contractor said they
were building it as designed, and blamed the engineers for drawing up the wrong plans. The engineers
said the plans were fine, and blamed UDOT for not making sure the contractor followed them correctly.
Or something like that; I stopped listening and told them I didn't care whose fault it was, they were going
to have to put the road back where it belonged.
"What?" they said. "We've already moved the road once because of a mistake; we can't move it a second
time."
"Why not?" I asked.
"That would cost us more than a million dollars."
"Well," I replied, "you can either move the road now, or you can spend a few more months building it in
the wrong place before a federal judge orders you to tear it up and start all over again. I wonder how
much it will cost by then."
In the end they got the message and we entered in to a consent decree in federal court. UDOT agreed to
obey the permit and keep the road eight feet from the river. They also agreed to pay $140,000 in
penalties for permit violations we discovered along the way, with $126,000 of that going to the Nature
Conservancy to help protect the Provo River. Of course, that's not the end of it. The contractor refused to
settle, so we're in court with them, and I'm pretty sure that UDOT, the contractor and the engineers are
still scrapping over who is going to pick up the tab for moving the road.
Me, I'm moving on to the next pile on my desk, and I just hope it's not as "obviously senseless" as the last
two.
For more information on this and other work of the ACA visit the ACA webpage.
####
innuendos
eco
Just as tax-payers cringe every April 15, dam operators worldwide are learning to do so a month earlier.
River activists around the world (including Argentina, Australia, Brazil, Chile, Costa Rica, Germany,
France, Hungary, India, Italy, Japan, Poland, Slovakia, South Africa, Thailand and the U.S.) joined
forces March 14 for the first annual International Day of Action Against Dams and for Rivers, Water and
Life. The event included a wide variety of events designed around three main goals: to celebrate the life
of rivers; to educate the public about rivers; and to protest the destruction of rivers.
"Every action reflected issues vital to the group or community taking part," says Aleta Brown, campaign
associate at Berkeley, Calif.'s International Rivers Network, a river conservation organization that helped
promote the event. "By acting together, we can demonstrate that these issues are not only local, but
global in scope."
The Day of Action was announced by the participants of last year's International Meeting of People
Affected by Dams, held in Curitiba, Brazil. Among other things, the "Declaration of Curitiba"--endorsed
by 100 representatives of dam-affected people and dam opponents from 20 countries-- states, "We have
stopped dams in the past and we will stop more in the future. To symbolize our growing unity, we
declare that March 14, the Brazilian Day of Struggles Against Dams, will from now on become the
International Day of Action Against Dams and for Rivers, Water, and Life." Following is a sampling of
rallies held on the Day of Action in the U.S. and abroad:
1. Brazil's Movement of Dam-Affected People has mobilized in opposition to large dams on this day for
at least a decade. The movement consists of 10 regional organizations which mobilize large numbers of
people.
2. In Hungary, several groups staged a demonstration in Budapest to oppose the Pilismarot Dam on the
Danube.
3. In Argentina, a group of kayakers paddled down the Gualeguay River for several weeks to educate the
communities along the river about the proposed Paran Medio Dam.
4. Demonstrators at the Sagami-ozeki Dam site in Japan held a day of paddling, river and nature walking,
and a loud voice competition.
5. In New Brunswick, Canada, students at the Mt. Allison University communicated their concern for
rivers with a display of art and information about the value of rivers and the impacts of dams.
6. The Southern Ute Grassroots Organization (SUGO) in Colorado held an event at the site of the
proposed pumping station for the Animas-La Plata Project.
7. In San Francisco, Calif., International Rivers Network joined a network of groups at the Chilean
Consulate to protest the Ralco Dam on the Bio Bio River, and at Bank of America's Corporate
Headquarters to protest the foreign financing of the Three Gorges Dam on China's Yangtze River.
--For more information, contact International Rivers Network (IRN) at www.irn.org.
--edb
Few places are better suited for dipping a paddle than northern Ontario's rugged shield country--a
potpourri of serpentine rivers, cold northern lakes and thick forestland. A result of more than 100,000
years of shape-shifting glaciation, the province's navigable waterways, along with its thousands of miles
of canoe routes, would keep most paddlers busy for several lifetimes. It might also emit the impression of
a land without limit.
But there is a limit. Despite its vastness, northern Ontario is not immune to the impacts of industry,
which for more than a century has used, and at times abused, this wilderness. For decades the province
has endured bickering over the proper usage of public lands, while stakeholders have battled over
planning rights to regions such as Temagami, Algonquin Provincial Park and the Algoma Highlands.
While recreationalists have hailed the value of the northland's scenery for ecotourism, logging and
mining companies have lobbied for harvest. Today many old-growth red and white pine forests are gone,
clearcuts checker the countryside and roadless wilderness is getting harder and harder to find.
Just how in need of wilderness parks is Ontario? To understand, look no further than Killarney Provincial
Park, one of the province's longtime paddling classics located along the northeast corner of Georgian
Bay. As with other provincial parks, Killarney has seen backcountry user-nights increase by 67 percent
over the last decade. And with an abundance of people wanting to use the parks, officials have two
choices: place a quota on user numbers as they've done in Killarney; or ignore the usage increase and
accept degradation of the park's natural features.
Fortunately there is another solution: the current Lands for Life (LFL) planning process being discussed
across the province. Its purpose is to resolve once and for all what land parcels should be added to
Ontario's half-complete parks system and what land should be allocated for industry use. Although 37
million hectares of public land are up for grabs, only seven contiguous blocks larger than 100,000
hectares (the target size for a wilderness park) remain. While four of these blocks already have parks,
LFL is likely the last opportunity for setting aside sizable wilderness areas. As Ron Reid, regional
coordinator for the Partnership for Public Lands, notes: "At this stage it's do-or-die for the conservation
community."
Rather than fight the process, three of Ontario's largest conservation groups have decided to embrace it.
The Wildlands League, the Federation of Ontario Naturalists and World Wildlife Fund Canada have
formed the Partnership for Public Lands--a unique coalition lobbying for additional parkland and proper
stewardship of other lands utilized by the mining and timber industries. According to the Partnership, the
key is to strike a balance between healthy and sustainable northern communities and the conservation
initiative. On the downside, while LFL's purpose is to balance the needs of conservation with industry,
the scope and speed with which the proposal is being pushed through has left bystanders questioning its
methodology. "The whole Lands for Life process is so large, long-reaching and rushed," says Lea Ann
Mallett of Ontario's Earthroots Coalition. "Will Lands for Life really lead to more protected areas on the
level needed?" Her question is valid. Can a proven pro-industry government, reprimanded in court in
February 1998 for disobeying its own environmental laws, be trusted to balance conservation with
resource extraction? Will LFL prove any different? There is one encouraging note: members from
stakeholder groups appear to be communicating with one another, with the Partnership for Public Lands
calling for a protected land base of 15-20 percent, with adequate buffer zones around park areas where
only limited development will be allowed.
--To voice your concerns about the fate of Ontario's parks, write Premier Mike Harris,
Legislature Building, Queen's Park, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M7A 1W3; Fax: (416)
325-3745; E-mail: mike_harris_mpp@ontla.ola.org
--Matt Jackson
marketplace review
Sea kayakers have as much reason to get excited about a good outer
layer as any paddler. Rough weather at sea can be as ferocious as any
river, and salt water has an insidious way of wearing on gear. Weather
can also strike on a lake, making the following nine tops for touring as
perfect for inland tourers as for their sea-faring counterparts. All of the
jackets listed below go well beyond the call of duty. They shed water,
breathe and allow ample room in all the right places for range of
motion. The real differences lie in the subtle creativeness of the
manufacturers, who adorn their wares with different styles and color
schemes. But one thing is as clear as the salt- and fresh-water the
jackets are made for: flatwater paddlers of all persuasions will be
hard-pressed to find jackets better suited for the touring task than the
ones we've found here.
Patagonia Skanorak
P.O. Box 150, Ventura, Calif.; (800) 638-6464; www.patagonia.com
Don't let the classic, crossing-guard look of the Skanorak fool you: Patagonia again took design a step
forward with this touring top/rain jacket. The Skanorak Top ($295) is pullover-style with a hood,
bellowed chest pockets (which include internal gear loops, handwarmer slots and weather-proof Velcro
closure) and powerful drawstrings. The quick-adjust drawcords serve to cinch the roll-top hood (with
new Jamlock one-hand operation), hem and waist--so the jacket can be worn long or cinched up around
the middle. The chest zipper is deep and features a gutter/flap system. The wrists and neck (Stretchcoat
inner collar and wrists) are quite waterproof and even more comfortable, and are all secured with Velcro.
Fabric is 4.8-oz., three-layer, H2No Storm Fabric on the inside and composite, two-ply 70-denier taffeta
on the inside-making the jacket both waterproof and breathable. Seams are all sealed at the Patagonia
factory and Y-Joint sleeves feature anatomically curved elbows. Available in S-XXL, the Skanorak was
as comfortable and dry as any hooded jacket of the bunch.
It's not surprising that expedition paddler Steph Dutton enjoys his relationship as a Kokatat
ambassador-especially if he gets to wear the Gore-Tex Tec Tour. Kokatat has five tops in its Tour Series,
but this is the beefiest-down to the sticky sprayskirt tunnel, reflective tape and zippered accessory
pockets on both sleeves. The Tec Tour ($310) targets hard-core sea kayakers, featuring a competition-cut
front-zip with a gusseted lycra inner-collar protected by a zippered double storm flap. It also comes with
an integral wide-billed storm hood with bungi drawcords and factory-sealed seams. Wrists feature latex
gaskets for the necessary tight seal, and the neck has an adjustable neoprene closure that seals out splash
and still allows ventilation. Both are extremely comfortable with coated-lycra outer cuffs. The inner
tunnel works with a sprayskirt or with Kokatat's Whirlpool Bib. The jacket is 2-oz. Gore-Tex Lite
(three-layer laminate) ripstop nylon and is available (S-XL) in either mango/black or cobalt/black. A sea
kayaking professional like Dutton would have a hard time finding a better jacket. If the Tec Tour is too
much jacket for what you need, look into the Gore-Tex AdvenTour Anorak ($302); the Gore-Tex Tour
de Force ($308); the ShellTour Anorak ($129) or the All Tour ($126).
A manufacturer of boats and apparel for more than 23 years, Perception's line of spraywear tops for 1998
consists of two pieces for touring or whitewater. Perception's toughest jacket, the Bomber Top ($180) is
designed primarily as a whitewater piece, but the crossover aspects are close to ideal. It's made of
loose-cut Supplex, urethane-coated for waterproofness, with unique XoSkin neck gaskets that are
comfortable and user-friendly with a Velcro closure system. Sleeves are tapered to the wrists with
interior, laminated neoprene gaskets, and a super-sticky double tunnel provides a watertight skirt seal.
The Perception top looks as sharp as it feels, available in black and red (S-XL); and the absence of bells
and whistles make it particularly attractive. The lighter-weight paddling jacket version of this top is the
Deluxe Spray Jacket ($90). These pullovers feature a convenient pull-tab front pocket (long-sleeve only),
and also are made from Supplex. Taped seams shed water and a double-faced neoprene neck offers
warmth and dryness.
The SeaShell Touring Anorak ($124.95) is built for the extremes and is only one piece of Stohlquist's
extensive touring line. Material is 200-denier SuperSoft fabric with a unique mesh liner to keep water
from soaking upwards. This is another of the full-length, hooded jackets, including bungi draw cords at
the waist and hem. The double-gussetted front zipper opens from chin to waist and is protected by a
Velcro spray panel. Also on the chest are two Velcro-closure cargo pockets with over-lie compartments
for hand warming. Wrist gaskets are neoprene with Velcro closure; the neck is protected with a neoprene
collar. The SeaShell is available in slate/purple or yellow/navy (S-XXL). The other touring-jacket option
from Stohlquist is the NorthStar Touring Jacket, designed for a wide spectrum of watersports and as rain
gear. The NorthStar features pit-zips, full-length front zipper, hood and front cargo pockets. It also
features Polartec-lined hand warmer pockets set in side-seams; and is available in 200-denier SuperSoft
or 70-denier Nude-X fabric. The waist-length touring option from Stohlquist is the Vagabond Touring
Anorak ($83.50), featuring taped seams on 200-denier SuperSoft, a hood and front pocket, 3/4-length
zipper and neoprene cuffs.
Vancouver, B.C.'s Navarro offers the Sympatex Desolation Anorak ($240) for fowl-weather, adventurous
touring paddlers (sans Sympatex, $165). The Desolation (factory seam-sealed) sports a full-featured hood
that rolls into a collar, and large Velcro-closure splash-guard bellows pockets on the chest (with
drainholes) with handwarmer pockets behind them. The deep front zipper features an inner chinguard
and is protected by double overflaps with a rainguard that secures with a Velcro strip. Articulated elbows
and free-movement sleeves make it comfortable and roomy. Cuffs feature Velcro-closure neoprene seals
and the collar also sports a neoprene splash-guard neckband. Waist and hem are shockcord adjustable.
Colors are navy/red, cobalt/red and red/cobalt, available in S-XXL.
Planetary Gear's Jetty Touring Top is the first entry of this hard-core accessory company into the
touring-apparel market. The Jetty features the same aggressive, technical style of the company's
Bombshell Dry Top, with the same waterproof/breathable fabrics factory seam-sealed all over. Unique
wrist gaskets and cuff systems, along with the supple, waterproof-lycra neck, ensure a dry, comfortable
fit. Reflective bands on each arm provide for safe channel crossings during dusk or nighttime paddles,
and a double-zippered chest pocket provides easy access to items when wearing a PFD. The double
chimney system trimmed with a micro-skin neoprene prevents wave blasts from entering the jacket or
boat. The Jetty ($XXX) has everything you could want in a warm, comfortable touring top.
Rapidstyle's Lined Sea Kayak Jacket, designed by Olympian Dana Chladek, is versatile and features
factory heat-sealed seams lined throughout with mesh; material is soft, two-ply nylon Supplex with
urethane coating. The Sea Kayak Jacket ($159) also features a lined, shock-corded and removable hood.
Neck and wrist closures are neoprene with Velcro closure. The extra-long front zipper with a double
storm flap allows for easy removal. It has an expandable sleeve pocket and a hand warmer front pocket
with zipper closure. It's available in slate blue with teal, sizes S-XL.
marketplace review
GEAR
One of the most exciting new inflatable playboats on the market this year is the Force ($950) by Aire.
The Force has the continuous rocker of a hard-shell for spinning and surfing, and with a 32-inch beam it
is fast, yet forgiving. You can roll it or pop enders in it, and at 9'6" and 27 lbs. it is also perfect
steep-creeking. The Caracal is in the same family with a slightly different specialty. The goal was to
create a lightweight high-performance kayak as affordable as it is functional. The Caracal has the option
of a foam or air floor in one or two person models ranging in price from $650-750.
Aire's new C Series has brought rafts to a new level as well. The company capitalized on the popular
smooth-rockered design of its Puma rafts and catarafts when creating the new 13', 14'3" and 15'6" C
Series rafts. The new design offers more interior room for cargo and paddlers, with a reduced waterline
for better handling. They are bigger inside, smaller outside, with the same tough construction and
warranty. The Panther and Cougar catarafts also have been redesigned with continuous-curve technology
for improved hole punching and a shorter waterline for easier spinning. Panther tubes have been
lengthened six inches and the diameter decreased to 16" for improved performance.
Avon
4740 126th Ave. N., Clearwater, FL 33762; (813) 571-3616, www.avonmarine.com
As well as introducing the new Roll Away compact raft for flatwater, Avon Marine has debuted a new
15-foot, 21-inch-tube Expedition Riverboat in response to outfitters' requests for a medium-length raft.
Available with two or three RAS (Rapid Attachment System) thwarts and a self-bailing floor, the boat
comes with a 7'3" beam that ensures stability in whitewater, while continuous fore and aft ribs in the
floor provide low drag and enhanced tracking. As with Avon's other inflatables, the Expedition is made
from double-thick Hypalon and comes with a 10-year warranty against defects--one of the best in the
business.
Now enjoying expanded production, Hyside has several new models for 1998. The most recent addition
is two new catarafts: the 144CAT, measuring 12 feet long with 20-inch tubes; and the 166CAT,
measuring 14 feet long with 22-inch tubes. Both cats come standard with four carrying handles and 16
D-rings. Also new is the 180HSB, a 15-foot self-bailing raft with 21-inch tubes a 42-inch beam. The
company is planning to introduce a recreational line of rafts as well, including the 10-foot, four-person
122L: the 11'4", six-person 136L; and the 13-foot, eight-person 158L. Finally comes a new 10-foot R-2
playboat, as well as two new El Grande rafts measuring 18 and 20 feet.
Innova
180 W. Dayton #202, Edmonds, WA 98020; (425) 776-1171, innovagp@aol.com
Innova has introduced an exciting new player to its line of European Inflatable Adventure Travel Kayaks.
The 10-foot, 24-lb. Safari is designed to tackle everything from ocean surf and whitewater to placid
rivers and lakes. Constructed from 1,200-denier Nitrylon, the self-bailing Safari can be paddled as a
sit-on-top with the touring seat tied on, or you can tie in the seat and use thigh straps for whitewater. It
comes with a water-resistant transport bag that holds the boat during storage and travel, and holds
personal gear when on the water.
Maravia
P.O. Box 404, Boise, ID 83701; (800) TOP-RAFT, www.maravia.com
The newly created Spider utilizes Maravia's diminishing-tube design for wave blasting and hole
punching. The craft can be paddled or rowed and accommodates two to six people. The 13-foot-long,
5.5-foot-wide, 19-inch-diameter Spider is easy to maneuver, and at a price of $2,500, it makes an
excellent sport boat. The Renegade is Maravia's first launch into the fly-fishing market. A streamlined
design and self-bailing floor make it easy to ferry and maneuver. The front and rear wrap-around lean
bars provide excellent stability and positioning for casting into hard-to-reach holes. The drift-boat anchor
system and swivel seat make it an excellent choice for serious fishermen. The Renegade retails for
$4,119 with frame. The newest Maravia option for customizing your boat is a new color fade and custom
logo designs. All catarafts and the new Spider raft can fade from yellow to red, blue to purple or yellow
to teal for $395. Maravia will also customize your craft with a number of logos for $85 each.
The new 14-foot River Cat ($1,625) by NRS is the perfect 'tweener boat. Whether you're just one person
and gear on a weeklong trip or two people and gear on an overnight trip--this cat wins the versatility
award. The 25-inch-diameter tubes make it a terrific gear-hauler and rapid runner. Also new is the NRS
E161 ($4,295), a 16'2" long raft with 20-inch-diameter tubes that can handle up to 10 passengers and a
guide. The flat stern makes a great guide seat while increased rocker improves performance. Designed
for the Grand Canyon, the NRS E180 is the granddaddy of them all. Huge water? Huge gear? No
problem. This boat was built to handle the biggest of both. This 18-foot-long, 8'4"-wide monster will set
you back $5,150 for a self-bailer, but it's well worth it for its load-hauling ability.
Soar Inflatables
20 Healdsburg Ave., Healdsburg, CA 95448; (707) 433-5599 or (800) 280-SOAR; www.soar1.net
Lightweight, nimble, compact and able to handle heavy loads with ease. The beginning of a superhero
cartoon? Nope, it's Soar's new Soar Cat ($895), a paddlecat designed to be paddled with a kayak paddle
by one or two people depending on the frame. With a capacity of 500 pounds it can handle a multi-day
expedition, and its Hypalon hull is designed to take whatever the river can dish out. At 30 pounds it is
made for the river runner or fisherman who needs a reliable and stable craft.
Whitewater Manufacturing/Sotar
1700 SW Nebraska Ave., Grants Pass, OR 97527; (800) GO-SOTAR; www.sotar.com
While most inflatable manufacturers are trying to find the magical dimensions and colors to meet the
needs of whitewater enthusiasts, Sotar is producing boats for everyone else. You chose the color,
dimensions and style of your craft and they will make it happen. Sotar will digitize your request, cut the
fabrics on the latest automated machines and assemble them to fit your custom specifications. For 1998
all Sotar Elites (custom series) will be made with the company's exclusive 40-ounce Lexatron
Fabric-designed to be rigid, puncture resistant and light. Best of all Sotar will do all of this at the
standard production boat price.
Wing Inflatables
P.O. Box 279, Arcata, CA 99518; (707) 826-2887; www.wing.com
Arcata, Calif.'s Wing Inflatables manufactures a unique diminished-tube design for outfitter use on the
Gauley and New rivers. The raft is a 15'6", four-thwart design with a nine-piece bow as opposed to more
traditional five- and seven-piece rafts. Tubes on these boats taper from 21.5" along the side tube to 16" at
the bow, with an exaggerated kick of 22.25". Extra room in the bow and stern created by the diminished
tubes allows room for eight passengers and a guide. High kick in the bow and stern also helps the boat
ride over waves. The boats are thermo-welded from 40-oz. polyurethane for buoyancy and rigidity, and
are being used and evaluated by Fayetteville, W.Va.-based Rivermen Outfitters.
marketplace review
GEAR
During this endeavor more than one person mentioned that kayak reviews
are frivolous because, "How can you say what is going to be good for
somebody else?" After all, they would expound, "owning a kayak is a
personal experience. Something you must form a relationship with."
Would you review your sister's choice for a mate or your best friend's
date? You betcha. And so, if we would subject fellow humans to such a
degrading examination, rife with subjectivity and casual
observation--why not do it to a boat?
We decided to do just that and analyze these sea kayaks for potential
relationships. And to be choosy, we reviewed "personalities" you might
call Sport Tourers. A boat you can paddle in waves or a little surf, duck
into sea caves, or prowl between the local railroad bridge pilings; and a
kayak that can carry enough gear for a long romantic weekend. Your
basic, "Seeking excitement--long term possible," type of arrangement.
We ended up meeting nine. Some we liked enough to take out again, and
some we weren't so sure about. But then, who hasn't had that said about
them at one time or another?
(360) 757-2300,
Eddyline Kayaks Raven 16.75 22 FG/KV 56/48 360 2399 www.eddyline.com
P&H
Impex International 17 22 PE 60 N/A 1539 (516) 286-1988
Capella
(604) 850-1206,
Looksha
Necky Kayaks 14'4 22.5 PE 58 N/A 625/1150 Fax (604)
Sp.
850-3197
Egret (207) 827-5513,
Old Town Canoe Co. 14'6 24.5 PE 54 225 749
DL www.octcanoe.com
Sea (800) 59-KAYAK,
Perception/Aquaterra 17'2 22.5 PE 67.5 N/A 1199
Lion www.kayaker.com
Prijon/Wildwasser (303) 444-2336,
Sea Yak 16'1 24 HTP 58 100-300 1099
Sport www.wildnet.com
(336) 434-7470,
Wilderness Systems Alto 15'8 22.5 PE 52 185 849 www.wildsys.com
marketplace review
GEAR
Concave bow and stern bottom decks also borrow a page from the aeronautical industry. "Bernoulli's
effect," where air has to travel a longer distance over the top of a wing than the bottom in the same
amount of time, creates a pressure variance which creates lift. The concave bow and stern decks of the X
do much the same, lifting paddlers into a new realm of moves. The lift affects two areas of playboating.
First, the short, flat waterline of most rodeo boats, designed to facilitate flat spins, causes water to pile-up
which hampers speed. The use of concavity in conjunction with a flat bottom overcomes this by creating
a low pressure area below the bow that sucks water away and allows the boat greater speed. The more
you engage the nose concavity through forward speed, rotational speed or leaning, the more the bow
wants to lift. Concavity also helps in horizontal and vertical moves, specifically surfing, flatspinning and
cartwheeling.
The bottom line of this scientific jargon is that the X's ends release quickly, allowing even weekend
warriors to perform one-stroke 360s, wavewheels, splitwheels, splat wheels, full loops and other rodeo
moves. From the moment I jumped in the X and threw a five-point cartwheel into an eddy, I knew the
sport had changed. Not for the Gods so much, but for us mortals.
The X benefits beginner and intermediate boaters as much as rodeo stars. Five boaters in an informal test
were spellbound by the boat's ability to eke a half-day's enjoyment out of a minor, low-water pourover.
Even though such boats as the Riot Hammer, Necky Jive, Perception 3-D and Dagger Vertigo could get
vertical in the feature, it seemed none could match the X's ease of release and rotation. It was especially
exciting to watch a 125-pound woman with only two year's experience initiate bow moves she never
thought possible. While the X could not match the Hammer's tracking and ease of attainment moves, it
was comparable to the longer (and slower-rotating) Jive, and faster (both in acceleration and top speed)
than the Vertigo or Wave Sport Stubby. The limiting factors were experience, technique and paddle
length.
The boat does have drawbacks. Even though cockpit room is ample and knee-brace placement ideal, tall
paddlers (above 6'2") and those with large feet (size 10 or larger) will vividly remember the Japanese
concept of foot binding. This can be remedied by custom-foam footblocks in lieu of footbraces. Taller,
big-footed paddlers can look forward to the XL version of the X, which should increase the boat's speed.
The X also is not made for extreme steep creeking. The low pressure areas created by the concave bow
create the opposite effect you want entering the water from a 20-foot drop. The boat's lifting power spells
flat landings and multiple-fused vertebrae. The other downfall is that, as with other playboats, the X has
created a new vocabulary of design features. As well as looking at length, width and volume, users now
have to add such terms as planing hull length and width, sidewall and bevel.
If you're like me, what you'll notice right away is the X's ability to release both ends from the surface
bonds of the water and...fly. Before hopping in the X I couldn't do a wavewheel or seven-pointer on an
eddyline, nor link flatspins to vertical cartwheels. In the X, I could do the tried-and-true moves, and learn
new ones in as short as two days. I am excited again for one of the first times in my 23-year boating
career--not just to get on the water, but to learn and experience something new. And I can't wait to see
the results the X's innovations bring to other manufacturer's designs--and to the playboating Gods.
-- Jim Grossman
X Specs
Length: 8'
Width: 12.75"
Material: Cross-linked polyethylene
Weight: 37 lbs.
Volume: 55 gal.
Paddler Weight: 80-200 lbs.
MSRP: $939
marketplace review
GADGETS
Survival Kite from B.E. Meyers
If you don't usually associate flying a kite with an open-water rescue situation, here's your chance. The
Skystreme Survival Kit inflates and rises up to 160 feet to signal your location, whether you're capsized
in the middle of an open-water ocean crossing or caught in a surprise storm on Lake Superior. With
practical application for SCUBA divers, mountaineers and expedition sea kayakers, the Skystreme, made
by Redmond, Wash.'s B.E. Meyers, has a highly visible mirror-bright surface capable of being located by
radar, and an optional beacon--which flashes continuously for more than 120 hours--for night distress
signaling. The Skystreme, whose aerodynamic design rises on its own and can withstand gale force
winds, requires no assembly, self-inflates by means of a simple valve and flies hands-free. Self-contained
in a waterproof plastic pouch, Skystreme ($49.95) weighs 1.5 ounces and measures 11 by 17 inches
when inflated. If this isn't enough to convince you to throw one in your drybag, it also can be worn as an
emergency thermal-barrier vest and can function as an inflatable first-aid splint. And, providing you're
not too hypothermic to enjoy it, using it might even be fun. Info.: (800) 327-5648 or
www.bemeyers.com.
--ahb
skills
destinations
Table of Contents
Features
China's Nu Jiang
What better way to herald in 1998, the Chinese Year of the Tiger, than to head to China to run a first
descent of the Nu Jiang River--and its infamous Leaping Tiger Rapid?
by Zia Parker
Eddylines
Letters to the editor.
Hotline
Rich Weiss finally gets a bronze; Bill Mason receives Canadian stamp of approval; brewing for
conservation; and more!
Innuendos
by Sean McNamara
Tricky Dicky and Leaky Antiquey
Paddle People
A one-legged paddler from Oklahoma; and Iowa-farm-girl-cum-southern-steep-creeker Kate Nietert.
Health
by Buck Tilton
Traveler's Check: When Paddlers Go Abroad
Paddle Tales
Off to work at 200,000 cfs on the Zambezi; a drunk dunking on Utah's Ogden River; and an ode to the
late John Denver.
First Descents
by Scott Muller
Paddling Panama's Rio Changuinola
ECO
A Forest Service proposal for the Salmon drainage has paddlers up in arms; students paddle to the
Gulf of Mexico to promote river conservation; and more!
Frames
Marketplace Review
Skills
Destinations
Flipside
Who among us hasn't thought about heading to a foreign land for a wild
paddling adventure? Whether it's crossing the border into Canada to canoe
the Nahanni or planning a rafting trip to Tanzania, such excursions
combine the best of traveling with the best of paddling, letting you enjoy a
country's culture from the seat of your paddlecraft. Of course, such
journeys are a bit different than simply heading out to your local playhole
or lake. Shuttles are often nightmares, cuisine is a far cry from campside Eugene Buchanan
spaghetti, and language barriers are often more difficult than any you find
on the river. The actual paddling, however, is just the same as it is back
home--eddies still require endless strokes and portages still stub the
occasional toe.
This issue highlights two such expeditions recently taken by Paddler
readers. Both took place on the Asian mainland, and both proved far more
rewarding than paddling back home. The first story in our International Expedition Section, written by
long-time kayaker Doug Ammons of Montana, highlights a trip taken to Nepal's Thule Bheri, a film of
which recently won the Best Professional category of the National Paddling Film Festival (see Hotline).
The second story, written by Colorado's Zia Parker, describes an expedition to the Nu Jiang near the
Burma/Tibet border in China. Although each expedition is markedly different in scope, each shows what
happens when you grab a passport and a paddle and strike out for the great unknown.
Of course, not all adventures have to take place so far off the beaten path. In "Paddling in the Path of
Giants," San Francisco Chronicle writer Paul McHugh describes the attempts of expedition sea kayaker
Steph Dutton to track the migration patterns of gray whales. During his three-year odyssey, Dutton might
not experience the cultural changes of the subjects in our Special International section, but his rewards
are guaranteed to be just as memorable. And speaking of change, our final feature, writen by former
Rocky Mountain News business reporter Price Colman, delves into the changes whitewater rodeo
kayaking has brought to the paddling industry. "Kayaking has surged past its river-running, slalom-based
roots and is morphing at hyper-speed into gymnastics on the water," he maintains from his home in
Evergreen, Colo. "For every traditional displacement-hull you see, there are now three or four
planing-hull kayaks."
Although this issue emphasizes international travel--further illustrated by Buck Tilton's Health column
on safety precautions when going abroad--it doesn't stray too far from its domestic roots. In Skills, Kent
Ford explains how to surf a canoe or kayak, and Mark Molina describes how to create a freestyle canoe
program; in Destinations, contributor Ed Grove discusses the best side hikes for those paddling in the
Grand Canyon; and Marketplace Review sheds light on roof racks that let you tote your boat with
comfort. These racks might not get your boats to China or Nepal, but they'll at least get them to the
nearest airport--where your plane tickets will do the rest.
--Eugene Buchanan
eddylines
Right Online!
Your Paddler Online is just what I've been waiting for. Down here in Aus'land we dont get much in the
way of paddle mags, so to find Paddler on the web as an online magazine is a real plus. Thanks for your
efforts and I hope the online section continues. Keep dipping the paddle.
--John Canaway, Sydney, Australia
Whadda' Website!
Thanks for finally coming up with a decent online magazine for boaters. Looks like things may finally be
looking up for the publication and this may actually get me to subscribe (finally). I'll ask just one more
thing...please include MORE!! whitewater articles. There never will be enough.
--whitewaterboater@hotmail.com
Kern Yearn
I want to introduce myself as the mother of Chuck Kern, one of the paddlers lost last summer. My sons,
Johnnie and Willie, were quick to call me from California about the February issue of Paddler. I want to
let you know that we Kerns felt that it was a very well done article and one that I read when I am feeling
particularly down and out. Our friends who have read it feel the same. I think you did an excellent job
covering a tragic and difficult subject with the facts and the outlook from other paddlers. You wrote it
with dignity and feeling and it continues to make me feel proud of my son, Chuck, who lived and died
doing what he loved so passionately. This past fall Johnnie, Willie and I drove from the Atlantic to the
Black Canyon. It was a bitter sweet journey, but for me, it was important to see the Black Canyon where
Chuck died. It is so dramatic and the river so loud. Again, thank you for your article.
--Julie Kern, Woodstock, Connecticut
Tragic Rememberance
I'm writing in response to "The Tragic Summer of '97" (Feb. '98). I was deeply moved by its truth and
message. The story echoes the names of people who have changed my life through kayaking, people I
have looked up to with respect while trying to follow in their footsteps. A lot of these mentors have lost
someone while paddling the upper limits of kayaking, and I can't help but question my own actions and
mortality, wondering when my number will be up, or a friend's? I look at my younger friends and wonder
how it would affect me if I saw the river take one of them. I also ask myself why I continue to paddle like
I do, always coming to the same conclusion--the one stated throughout your article. When paddling a
challenging river, a kayaker feels a sense of "aliveness" that can't be obtained anywhere else. Life is a
river; there are a million different streams to choose from and one of them is kayaking. Hence, just as a
stream can die, so can a friend.
It would seem that a Class V kayaker acknowledges this inherent price and accepts it. We bring the edge
nearer by risking ourselves, which can lead to dire consequences and lets us know how sweet and
rewarding life is. We should seriously look at who we are--people who pit judgment against the odds,
judgment that we have earned in hundreds of river days. We have swum, broached, pinned and swamped
our way to the upper limits, learning to heed the signs of the river. We have gained a precious skill, yet
we mustn't forget that we are all "just learning." Our sport is on the verge of something new, and the
summer of '97 yielded an important message: be careful. It can be heeded by all of us who search for
challenge, notoriety and solace in the voice of a river.
--Scott Doherty, Bend, Oregon
Salt Semblance
Thank you for the excellent article about the Salt River case. I thought it was a fine piece of journalism
and an issue that needed to be aired out.
Unfortunately, we are going through the same process, in reverse, here on the Chattooga with regard to
Section IV's Crack-in-the-Rock rapid (which killed paddler Ken Phinney in December 1996). A classic
case of the Forest Service's left hand (Sumter National Forest) not knowing what the right hand (Tonto
National Forest) is doing. The most disturbing part of the controversy is that the Wild and Scenic Rivers
Act specifically prohibits "alteration of the riverbed." The District Ranger, Ms. Elizabeth Merz, has
consulted with the Office of General Counsel and said they told her the Act was "subject to
interpretation," which, as we all know, are classic wiggle words coming from a bunch of lawyers. Maybe
some publicity would help dispel the myth that government employees have the ability to improve the
Chattooga River.
--Bruce Hare, Chattooga Whitewater Shop, Long Creek, South Carolina
Wanted: Women
I am one of your biggest fans and I truly enjoy the content of your magazine. So please excuse me for
saying that reading your magazine is somewhat like being at a sausage party. Where are all the women?
You continually quote the "experts" and "top-notch rodeo paddlers" but seemingly overlook the entire
female population! You guys should give a little credit where it's due. Women boaters rip these days!
Women are paddling the same rivers, entering the same rodeos, and performing the same moves as men.
I don't know about you, but I know a few girls who can kick my butt on any wave or hole. So, next time
you're quoting the experts and top-notch rodeo paddlers try asking a woman what she thinks--you might
be impressed by what you find.
--John Lovett, Steamboat Springs, Colorado
Gender Bender
I applaud Paddler's renewed efforts in addressing the whitewater paddling scene, but I do have few
qualms about the lack of female coverage and the often loose representation of the National Organization
of Whitewater Rodeos (NOWR). First the women. Where are they? I can't believe you would write an
entire feature article on top playholes and not consult a single woman. There are lots of top-notch women
out there who have plenty to say. To make matters worse, a photo of Susan Wilson is shown in your
1998 calendar for December tearing it up at Ocoee's Hell Hole where she is referred to as a "he." Shame,
shame.
Next, NOWR is a circuit run by American Whitewater (AW) and is not a stand-alone organization.
Without AW's support, the circuit would not be what it is today. You write an entire article on playholes
and leave out any real mention of the only national circuit of rodeos in the country? I think you really
missed the boat. Finally, in your article on extreme kayaking (Feb. '98), Erik Jackson states "NOWR
doesn't want the top paddlers there." Absolutely NOT TRUE! It is true that some events do find the
experts/pros to be a handful, but a lot of the past problems have stemmed from no real guidelines.
NOWR is the only national circuit implementing standardized judging, a travel-friendly schedule and a
point series championship--all for the expert/pro paddlers. I'd say we are very much addressing the needs
of this group of paddlers and hope to see the sport grow to the point where pro rodeo paddlers can thrive
and flourish.
--Jayne H. Abbot, Events Manager, American Whitewater/NOWR, Weaverville, North
Carolina
Hotline
Kayaking Klingons
Can space aliens surf? Can rubber pills actually make you waterproof? They do if you believe the latest
poster published by American Whitewater highlighting events on the 1998 National Organization of
Whitewater Rodeos (NOWR) circuit. "We decided to have some fun with it this year," says NOWR
Events Manager Jayne Abbot. "It's the first time we've done something like this." The poster, designed
by Steve Doty of Asheville, N.C., shows a balding alien holding a paddle high overhead while surfing a
foam pile under the heading, "Kayaking Space Aliens! They've Come to Compete on Earth. They Have
Sponsors!" The photo was taken by Christopher Smith (Intergalactic division), with the kayak model
name airbrushed out to avoid alien-endorsement conflicts. Other headlines making the schedule look like
the Weekly World News include "Clinton Caught Kayaking with Sexy Paddler" and "Nostradamus
Predicts Rodeo Results Hundreds of Years Ago!" The tabloid tactic appears to have worked. "Retailers
started calling me right away asking for more posters," says Abbot, adding that she doesn't know the
identity of the paddler-turned-alien-model. "People are taking them down and keeping them."
--To order your own copy of this year's NOWR schedule ($5, plus $3 shipping), call (828)
645-5299.
Mayor Mishap
After nearly dying on a trip down Idaho's Owyhee River last summer, former Portland, Ore., mayor Bud
Clark has some sage advice: don't take sagebrush for granted. Clark, 66, who retired from his mayor
position in 1992, ruptured the femoral artery in his left leg after falling on a sagebrush stump on the fifth
day of an 86-mile trip down the Owyhee. Forty-five minutes after a call went out for help, a helicopter
dropped into the canyon and flew him to a nearby hospital where he underwent emergency surgery. "I'd
never been in a situation like that before," he told NWA News, the club newsletter for the Northwest
Whitewater Association. "I'll go back next year, but I'm not going to take sagebrush for granted."
Paddler Online
Tired of surfing your local playspot? Now you can keep right on surfing at home on Paddler's new
website at www.aca-paddler.org/paddler. You won't be surfing alone. Since its debut Feb. 4, the site has
averaged nearly 100,000 hits per month. "People in paddlesports apparently like to surf," says the
American Canoe Association's Dave Jenkins, who helped design the site. "It's going even better than we
had planned."
The good news is that the association has already accomplished most of the goals set out in its current
strategic plan, covering 1995-2000. Among those was the establishment of the association's pro-active
conservation and access programs, expansion of the ACA's instructional programs and safety education
materials, and the ongoing drive to build the association's membership base by adding new member
benefits. With your input and the continued commitment of ACA-affiliated clubs, volunteers and staff,
we look forward to achieving new levels of success on behalf of paddlesport in the new millenium.
For more information on this and other work of the ACA visit the ACA webpage.
####
innuendos
eco
Schizophrenic Creek?
Paddlers consulting maps to float Washington's
Latah Creek may have a hard time finding it.
According to the Washington State Board of
Geographic Names, Hangman Creek, which many
refer to as Latah Creek, is now officially Hangman
again. According to the Northwest Whitewater
Association (NWA), the creek, which flows from
the Idaho foothills into Spokane, was called Latah
until 1858. After several Native Americans were
hung near the stream, people started referring to it
as Hangman Creek. Last spring, county
commissioners passed a resolution to re-name it on
all county documents as Latah, a Nez Perce word
Students living on waterways between Brevard,
for "Jumping Fish." Now, however, after a two-hour
N.C., and New Orleans, received a hands-on
televised meeting by the Board of Geographic
lesson in environmental awareness last summer
Names, it's back to Hangman. "The word 'Latah' is a
when seven Brevard College students and two
nice- sounding name," board member Grant Smith
faculty members paddled 1,800 miles from the
told the NWA News, "but it doesn't pass the test of
headwaters of North Carolina's French Broad
local usage...or local history."
River to the Gulf of Mexico. Starting in North
Carolina's Blue Ridge Mountains, the expedition, --edb
dubbed "Voice of the Rivers," linked more than 50
communities along the French Broad, Tennessee,
Ohio and Mississippi rivers in an educational and
Mine Threatens Tributary
environmental outreach program. The goal of the to Oregon's Illinois River
three-and-a-half-month journey was to tell anyone
who would listen about the plight of America's Rough and Ready Creek, a major tributary to
rivers. "The program succeeded beyond everyone's southwestern Oregon's Wild and Scenic Illinois
expectations," says team leader Dr. Windy River (responsible for two highly publicized
Gordon, a 14-year river guide and instructor for paddling fatalities in March) is threatened by a
Nantahala Outdoor Center. "We brought our proposed nickel-laterite strip mine. The mining
environmental awareness program to civic and operation, dubbed NICORE, would strip soil from
school groups throughout the Southeast." 35 acres and require building eight to 10 miles of
road in the South Kalmiopsis Roadless Area and the
The idea for the expedition was hatched when
adjacent Rough and Ready Botanical Area. The
David Watkins, a friend of Brevard College,
creek, which was determined eligible for inclusion
suggested the school send a team down waterways
in the National Wild and Scenic Rivers System,
linking the small mountain town with the Gulf.
flows through an area known as the "Redrock
After rounding up sponsorship support from
Rainforest" and is characterized by a broad channel
Wilderness Systems (which donated Sealution sea
filled with large boulders. The watershed is host to a
kayaks), Werner (for paddles) and Lotus Designs
rare community of plants that have adapted to life in
(for lifejackets), the seven students shoved off and
an area with thin soil containing toxic minerals.
completed a full semester's coursework on the
Under the proposal, mining trucks would drive
nine-state, 104-day journey. Presentations
across the stream hundreds of times daily,
revolved around what impacts rivers and what
threatening the creek with sedimentation and
people can do to protect them. "Little did we
hazardous material spills. NICORE's claim to an
know," says Gordon, "that the environmental
additional 4,000 acres of public land represents one
lessons we taught would come from our days on
of the largest attempts to privatize public lands
the river rather than from the college."
under the 1872 Mining Act. The Siskiyou National
Although they paddled every mile of the way, that Forest is in the process of conducting an
is not their greatest source of pride. Instead, their Environmental Impact Study on the proposal. It is
satisfaction comes from the fact that along the way uncertain what effects the mine may have on the
they conducted 33 educational programs and spoke Illinois River. The Forest Service's Draft
to more than 6,000 people about river protection. Environmental Impact Statement can be found at
Programs--given to everyone from professionals at www.magick.net/~siskiyou or by calling (541)
Chattanooga's Tennessee Aquarium to 200 592-2166.
kindergarten children in Osceola, Ark.,--explained --Scott Harding
first-hand environmental lessons from their
journey, from rapids' cleaning effect on rivers like the French Broad to the slow death of dammed rivers
like the Tennessee. Sometimes, adds Gordon, the children in the audience surprised them. "After one
program at a Mississippi middle school a young boy asked if anyone disliked us for what we were
doing," he says. "It is amazing that a sixth grader understands the tension between environmentalists and
those who would use the world as a disposable resource. I think it is very telling that we could honestly
say, 'No, so far everyone has liked us and liked what we say.'"
Did paddling 1,800 miles to conduct these programs transform Southeastern thinking about our rivers?
"Of course not," says Gordon. "No single trip could accomplish so grand a goal. But we did we create
some ripples in our region's awareness."
--The Voice of the Rivers expedition would like to thank its sponsors, including Wilderness
Systems, Werner Paddles, Lotus Designs, the Nantahala Outdoor Center and Brevard
College.
--edb
marketplace review
Patagonia's Aquanot
It's hard enough trying to keep yourself decked out in the latest from
Patagonia, so here's a little help keeping your paddling-kids decked out in
the same. The Aquanot ($85) is the first drytop for kids that you can
actually let out to accommodate the youngster's growth. Constructed of
200-denier double-ripstop nylon with a polyurethane coating, it is fully
seam sealed with extra stitch lines in the arms allowing for five inches of
growth. StretchCoat neck and wrist closures adjust with gussets and Velcro,
and the waist is elastic with a sturdy cordlock. There's even a zippered front mesh pocket so your
growing paddler can carry his or her own sunglasses and lipblock. Patagonia manufactures an entire kid's
line of outdoor activewear. Info.: (800) PATAGONIA or www.patagonia.com.
marketplace review
Truck Racks
Mirage Truck Racks (Jemb Rack Systems)
The Mirage is a removable sport rack for trucks. From Williston, Vt., it is referred to as "disappearing"
as it folds away into its padded carrying case that fits behind the seats of your truck. The
weight-to-strength ratio isn't bad either: at under 30 lbs. it can still carry 300 lbs. of gear. The Mirage
(base price $299) is made from round, rustproof anodized aluminum tubes; fasteners are stainless
steel-no tools required. It is a freestanding rack and is micro-adjustable in length to carry everything
from playboats to racing shells. Mirage paddlesport accessories include Kayak Cushions ($22.95) and
12-foot cam straps ($14.95). Info.: (800) 272-5362 or www.rackwarehouse.com
marketplace review
Composite Oars
Composite oars-made of fiberglass or fiberglass and graphite--are
the most recent development on the rafting-oar scene, but the idea
is catching on for several reasons: good flex, light weight, high strength and low maintenance. It's an
attempt to capture the best of both natural and synthetic worlds. Perhaps the greatest attraction of
composite shafts is their flexible "spring," which makes them less tiring to use. Their light weight also
makes them easy to swing. The most sophisticated composite shafts are bi- directional. That is, the inner
shaft consists of fibers running down the oar shaft; the outside layer, consisting of a long, single strand of
fiberglass, is then wound around the inner core. The blades and handles of the oar are attached separately
to the shaft.
Though traditionally a manufacturer of wooden oars, Sawyer Paddles & Oars (541-535-3606) produces a
fiberglass oar called the Hybrid Oar (hybrid because it has a fiberglass shaft and a wooden blade) and a
fiberglass/graphite oar called the MG-X (which stands for Multi-axially engineered). A new economy
fiberglass version, called the PoleCat Oar, is also available. The fiberglass Hybrid Oar comes with a
laminated blade made of' fir with ash edges and core (and an epoxy/metal tip reinforcement), which is
not only durable, but provides more flexibility and flotation than a plastic blade. These are available in
5.5- by 36-inch or 5.5- by 36-inch dimensions. The handles are also made of fir and are fitted with foam
grips. Blades and handles are attached to the shaft with set screws, allowing replacement. A counter-
balancing weight in the handle to offset the blade weight is standard, if desired. Options include rope
wrap, a two-piece breakdown shaft, and a detachable push-button blade. Base prices for 9- to 10-foot
oars range from about $130 to $140 an oar.
The fiberglass-and-graphite Sawyer MG-X Oar comes in three blade configurations: a synthetic blade, a
wood laminate blade and a solid ash blade. These are available in 5.5-inch by 30-inch dimensions. The
wooden blades are available with a counterbalance at no extra cost. Handles are fir, and blades and
handles are attached to the shaft with set screws, allowing replacement. Options include rope wrap, a
detachable push-button blade system, and a two-piece push-button breakdown shaft for easier transport.
Base prices for 9- to 10-foot oars range from about $160 to $210 an oar, depending on the blade. The
new Sawyer PoleCat Oar is the economy version. It has a fiberglass shaft and a 5.5- by 30-inch synthetic
blade (with aluminum core and fiberglass-filled polypropylene). The handle is laminated Douglas fir.
Options include a two-piece breakdown shaft, a detachable push-button blade, and rope wrap. Base
prices for 9- to 10-foot oars range from $90 to $100 an oar.
Another manufacturer, Advanced Composites (801-467-1204) produces a fiberglass and graphite model
called the "Cataract Shaft." In addition to the standard SGG model, the company also manufactures a
fiberglass (85 percent) and graphite (15 percent) shaft called the SGX, which is lighter, though somewhat
stiffer. The 27.5-inch-long blades are double-density plastic and come in 6.25- and 7-inch widths. The
shafts can also accommodate either Carlisle plastic blades or Sawyer laminated blades. Fiberglass
handles have foam grips installed; a rope wrap is optional. Base prices for 9- to 10-foot oars range from
$130 to $140.
Aluminum Oars
There's no question that aluminum isn't as aesthetically pleasing as wood, but it is a workhorse. Oars with
heavy-gauge aluminum shafts and plastic blades are popular primarily because of their light weight and
minimal maintenance. Aluminum oars, with their detachable blades, also allow the rower to replace a
damaged blade or change blade widths. Shaft extensions (in one- foot sections) even permit the boater to
lengthen the oar for changing river conditions or for different boats. And the break-down models allow
easy transportation for fly-ins. Perhaps the greatest disadvantage of aluminum is its stiffness, which most
boaters find tiring.
The only manufacturer of plastic-coated aluminum oars on a large scale is Carlisle Paddles
(517-348-9886). With their popularity, it sometimes seems that every boat on the river is using them. The
Extra Heavy Duty Rafting Oars have an inner sleeve of' tempered aluminum to provide additional
strength to the shaft. The spring-loaded, push-button, replaceable blades (available in 6.5- or 8-inch
widths) are handy if they should break, or if you simply want to change blade size. The Outfitter blade
has thicker aluminum shaft for additional strength. Handles are molded plastic with foam grips. The
Carlisle break-down oar has a two-piece shaft, which works well when transported on commercial or
bush plane flights where solid 10-foot oars receive cold stares from the baggage clerk. Base prices for 9-
to 10-foot oars range from $85 to $90 an oar.
Wood Oars
Wood is obviously the traditional oar material, and many boaters wouldn't think of using anything else.
Advantages of wood oars are their good looks and their comfortable flex in rowing. A high-quality wood
oar is also extremely strong and resilient. Wood, however, is not perfect. Wood quality varies widely not
only among species of' trees, but among individual trees. And it's not always possible to accurately detect
flaws in its grain. Wood also has a tendency to warp in storage, and the better hardwood oars, such as
ash, are somewhat expensive.
For heavy rapids and continuous usage, solid ash oars and laminated ash/fir oars are considered the best
choice. Ash is an extremely tough hardwood, while fir is a very strong softwood. Solid oars are generally
considered more durable and flexible than laminated oars of the same diameter, while laminated oars are
lighter and less likely to warp than their solid counterparts. Both solid and laminate oars are usually
available in different diameters to fit the use they will receive.
The largest manufacturer of wooden oars, Sawyer Paddles & Oars (541-535-3606), has been making
wooden oars for over 20 years. The company's standard line of whitewater oars is made of laminated,
straight-grain Douglas fir, with blade tips and edges of a more resistant northern white ash. The
laminations provide a straight oar which is lighter, but stiffer than a solid ash oar. The tips of the blades
are reinforced with metal mesh and epoxy for extra strength. The entire oar is dip-finished and sealed
with marine-grade spar varnish. Foam grips are standard. Base prices for 9- to 10-foot oars range from
$160 to $180 an oar.
Sawyer has now purchased the oldest manufacturer of wood oars, Smoker. The top-of-the-line Smoker
Whitewater Oar is a solid ash oar, available in either a Standard Whitewater model or a beefier, stiffer
Stout model (whose shafts, the largest available in the market, are often affectionately referred to as
telephone poles). Both models are made of extremely strong northern white ash, and though the
Whitewater Oars are heavier than laminated oars, they provide more flex than laminated oars of
comparable diameter. Rope wrap is available. Base prices for 9- to 10-foot oars range from $160 to $190
an oar.
New Zealand's Gull Oars (714-240-6588) offers two models of whitewater oars. The Gull Ash oar is
milled in a smaller diameter from a solid piece of ash (making it extremely flexible), while the thicker
Whitewater model is a laminated oar with an ash center surrounded by a layer of fir. All Gull oars are
air-dried rather than kiln-dried (the company says kiln drying explodes the cell structure of the wood and
reduces its strength). Base prices for 9- to 10-foot oars range from $120 to $160 an oar.
skills
Music
Select music that is between two to five minutes long. Select music that is meaningful to you: music that
evokes an emotional response. Also consider your audience's response to the music. Don't pick music
that is too fast. Many interpretive paddlers start with a relatively slow song; after gaining more
experience, they try faster rhythms. Working with faster music is tougher and requires more practice and
precision. Working with an instrumental piece is easier than using a song with lyrics. An instrumental
allows for a greater degree of adjustment (covering up mistakes) than does music with words--words
usually require precision and timing that make it difficult to compensate for missed or poorly timed
moves.
The Routine
The goal of an interpretive routine is to make the boat dance on the water--not to dance in the boat. To
achieve this it is necessary to link specific maneuvers with particular points in the song. The blending of
music, lyrics and boat movement yields interpretation--if blended appropriately. At its best, interpretation
is communication between the paddler and the audience. A practical way of creating a program is to
practice paddling to your selected music. Move the boat to the rhythm as you would move your body on
the dance floor. Paddle to the music again and again. Soon you should start to detect variations in the
music--either in tempo or in lyrics--that suggest a boat movement. At this point start to make notes.
Write down moves that seem to go with the music. Note the point in the lyrics that a maneuver seems to
fit. Also look for areas that might be just right for any special or mandatory moves you may wish to
include in your routine. My technique is to determine a first and last move. In between I list special
maneuvers that I want to include. From this point, I basically fill in the blanks to create a full routine.
Important considerations
When constructing a routine, consider the following:
1. Use the entire performance area. Avoid confining your program to a limited section of water.
2. Avoid acrobatics and paddle tricks that have little paddling application. They may look interesting, but
they do not demonstrate paddling expertise.
3. Set up your turns so that the down rail faces the audience during the peak of the maneuver. Posts and
cross posts can be executed with the high rail facing the viewers.
4. Demonstrate power as well as finesse. Show the audience that you are in control of your boat.
5. Utilize a variety of kneeling positions.
6. Include a variety of maneuvers. Work the boat from all four quadrants: forward, reverse, cross forward
and cross reverse.
7. Posture is important. Your boat and your body combine to present a visual experience.
8. It's okay to smile--if it is appropriate to the music.
9. Remember: make the boat dance, don't just dance in the boat
10. Relax and have fun. Don't forget that you're paddling a canoe, not negotiating world peace.
destinations
By Ed Grove
Mention the Colorado River as it journeys through the Grand Canyon and most paddlers drool over such
rapids as Granite, Crystal and Lava Falls. The Canyon experience, however, is not just about whitewater.
Equally thrilling are the many unique side canyons that trickle into the main canyon for the 225 miles
between the Lee's Ferry put-in and the Diamond Creek take-out. Here are my favorites (with miles
downstream from the put-in):
North Canyon (mile 20): Not only does this U-shaped canyon give a flavor of other magnificent side
canyons to come, but its clean Supai sandstone walls are polished perhaps more than any other canyon on
the trip. A mile hike up North Canyon leads you to a pool fed by water trickling down a polished sloping
notch. Venturesome hikers can wade across the pool, scoot up the notch, and work their way back into
this cozy canyon until they reach a breathtaking amphitheater of luminescent orange limestone.
Silver Grotto (mile 29): This aerobic workout close to the Colorado is worth it to enjoy a challenging
series of pools in a narrow slot canyon of subtly banded white, gray and pink limestone. Your effort
comes from alternately swimming and wading through pools and then climbing up the short sloping rock
faces connecting them. The last pool is in a wonderful intimate amphitheater.
Nautiloid Canyon (mile 35): This scramble over a short steep rock formation near the river leads to a
small canyon with unique fossils--nautiloids, the unwound ancestors of the reclusive chambered nautilus
which exists today in the South Pacific. Bring water to splash on the smooth rock canyon floor
containing these two-foot long critters because their shapes come alive when you wet them. Also, be on
the lookout for red-spotted toads which thrive in the pools by the fossils.
Saddle Canyon (mile 47): This mile hike is full of variety. First, there is a climb up a desert slope. Then
you reach Saddle Canyon Creek with its lush corridor of water-loving plants. Finally, you arrive at a
series of pools culminating in a short climb up to a delightful small waterfall cascading into the last pool.
Nankoweap and Little Nankoweap (mile 52): Here you have two choices. First, you can hike
three-quarters of a mile up to ancient Anasazi Indian granaries built into the canyon wall overlooking the
Colorado River. These are some of the best preserved ruins in the Grand Canyon and are reputed to be
nearly 1,000 years old. You also can take a more vigorous hike up little Nankoweap Canyon with its
interesting terraces and pools (dry in summer).
Little Colorado (mile 61): The Little Colorado is best when it has not rained recently. In 1990 we
arrived after a heavy thunderstorm and the Little Colorado had the consistency of chocolate pudding. A
dozen miles upstream of its confluence with the Colorado, the Little Colorado seeps from large springs
laden with magnesium and calcium carbonate. These chemical compounds precipitate onto the Tapeats
sandstone riverbed and make it white. As a result, the water takes on an eye-popping electric turquoise
hue. Best of all, the water is much warmer than the Colorado. Consequently, numerous pools and ledges
of the Little Colorado invite swimming and jumping into these magical waters. While frolicking,
however, be careful of the river bed's sharp travertine. Many paddlers floating through the Class I rapids
on the Little C put their life vest armholes through their legs, pull them over their hips, and zip the vests
up tightly to protect their butts as they bump down the river's ledges.
Clear Creek (mile 84): Just above Phantom Ranch (mile 88), Clear Creek is truly one of the wonders of
the Canyon. It slices its way vertically through a fault in the 1.7 billion-year-old, black, forbidding
Vishnu schist and ends a vigorous half-mile hike with a delightful two-part where you can experience a
fresh water shower after the first week on the river.
Elves Chasm (mile 116): This aptly named hideaway a quarter mile from the river features an elf-sized
waterfall pouring out of a fern-filled rocky grotto of Tapeats sandstone into a crystal pool. Venturesome
paddlers can climb the Elves Chasm gneiss above this grotto to see additional waterfalls where the water
plays tag with rocks, crevices and ferns.
Blacktail Canyon (mile 120): This very narrow slot canyon of khaki Tapeats sandstone is breathtaking
and surprisingly cool on a hot summer day. One other treat of this hike is to see and touch the 250
million-year-old Great Unconformity at the base of the Tapeats sandstone (570 million years old), which
rests directly on much older rock (820 million years old).
Stone Creek (mile 132): This creek at the base of Dubendorff Rapids offers a two- to three-mile hike
featuring a couple of spectacular waterfalls along the way.
Tapeats Creek and Thunder River (mile 134): Walk more than three miles up clear-flowing Tapeats
Creek and turn left where Thunder River enters. After another half-mile climb, you will see this river
explode full strength from the base of the Redwall and Muav limestone cliff above. The exciting Thunder
River is one of the shortest rivers in the world and perhaps the only river which flows into a creek! Hard
core hikers can then huff and puff a couple of miles across Surprise Valley to reach Deer Creek. This last
stretch can be very hot and exhausting in the summer.
Deer Creek and Deer Spring (mile 136): A couple miles downstream from where Tapeats Creek enters
the Colorado is the magnificent 100-foot waterfall created by Deer Creek. Folks approaching the base of
these falls will be sprayed by the wind and mist from the pool below. A second treat awaits boaters who
take the short hike up to the Deer Creek Narrows (the short slot canyon in Tapeats sandstone formed by
Deer Creek before it pitches over the falls). The most impressive aspect of the hike is walking up to
where the slot canyon begins, and then following its development. With a rope and care you can actually
climb down into it. While walking on the edge of Deer Creek Canyon near its beginning, look for
Anasazi hand prints on the walls and fossilized worm casts underneath the lowest ledge jutting out next
to the trail. Or, you can hike about a mile out of the Narrows (towards Surprise Valley) to Deer Spring
(also known as Dutton Spring), a waterfall bursting out of a Muav limestone cliff. Smaller than Thunder
River, Deer Spring creates a cozy, cool stream surrounded by restful vegetation. One restful aspect of
this place is the "Throne Room" below the falls where regal rocky chairs have been fashioned by creative
hikers to give a lovely view.
Whispering Falls (mile 143): This appropriately named place is earned after a four-mile wet/dry hike up
Kanab Canyon (with several striking Muav limestone amphitheater-like stretches and travertine seeps).
Turn right at Whispering Falls Canyon and climb over a boulder field. Soon you come to Whispering
Falls--a small sliding sliver of water hundreds of feet long which ends in a whisper as it slips into an
enchanting emerald pool. After such an invigorating hike, this is one of the best lunch stops in the
canyon!
Matkatamiba Canyon (mile 148): Matkat is my favorite side-hike. This vest- pocket canyon is so
intimate you can put your hands on both of its softly layered gray walls of Muav limestone as you began
your ascent up a tiny crystal stream. After working through this magical short canyon, you suddenly
come to an inviting Redwall limestone amphitheater where stringed quartets have performed classical
music numerous times. One day while hiking this canyon we were treated to a close view of nine
mountain sheep walking on the other side. The only caution about Matkat is to be careful not to miss it!
You must catch the eddy on river left formed by this canyon. If you miss the eddy, Matkatamiba Rapids
will grab you, and the sheer walls on the Colorado River below this rapid will keep you from seeing
Matkat.
Havasu Creek, Beaver Falls and Mooney Falls (mile 157): Like the Little Colorado, Havasu Creek
carries calcium carbonate in its waters. However, the bottom of the creek and its terraces formed by this
precipitate are darker. Consequently, the water is a lovely green instead of the electric turquoise found in
the Little Colorado. Highlights of Havasu are a four-mile hike to 30-foot Beaver Falls and another mile
and half to 200-foot Mooney Falls. The travertine terraces and swimming pools along this hike
(particularly near these two falls) are striking. You need most of a day to enjoy them. Incidentally,
Mooney Falls was named for a hapless early explorer of the Grand Canyon who decided to climb down a
rope from the cliff by the Falls. Unfortunately, the rope wasn't long enough, and after desperately
dangling at its end for over two days, Mooney fell to his death and is buried nearby. The Falls are a
wonderful memorial to this rugged pioneer.
Table of Contents
Features
Aloha Paddlers
Eight Top Hawaiian Sea Kayak Trips
by Tom Holtey
Want to live Robinson Crusoe-style on fresh fruit and fish, paddle against a backdrop of waterfalls and
volcanoes, and then land on a sunny beach and get lei'd? If so, head to one of our eight top Hawaiian
sea kayak destinations.
Paddling Colombia
by Eugune Buchanan
If you look beyond the travel advisories and media hype, Colombia offers the paddling adventure of a
lifetime. After all, where else can you boat Grand Canyon-style water and then celebrate with a
handful of fried ants?
Eddylines
Letters to the editor.
Hotline
An adventurer discovers a new source of the Zambezi; a new world record for miles kayaked in a day;
a mother and son team completes the world's toughest rowing race; and more!
Innuendos
by Joe Glickman
Sometimes the best adventures are a stone's throw from home--especially when you end up paddling
in a surprise New York fog.
Paddle People
Hand-paddling hairboater Jim Grossman; and Theakston the Paddle Dog.
Health
by Buck Tilton
Doctor in a drybag: the 10 best medical books for paddling.
Paddle Tales
Leaving vapor trails in a canoe; a reason not go to creeking in Southern California; and a technique for
developing water-logged film.
First Descents
by Richard Bangs
Ethiopia's Tekeze Gorge
ECO
A call for help for the Futaleafu; pfiesteria fish kills on Chesapeake Bay; a motorized legislation bill
plagues the Boundary Waters; and more!
Frames
Marketplace Review
Skills
Destinations
Flipside
Aloha Paddlers
Eight Top Hawaiian Sea Kayak Trips
By Tom Holtey
EVERYONE KNOWS HAWAIIAN PADDLING HINTS
Hawaii as a premiere vacation Boats:
destination. Sunny beaches, fiery Sit-on-top kayaks are the dominant type of craft
volcanoes, great waves, lush jungles, fresh leis, available at local outfitters, and they are well suited
warm hospitality...the list goes on and on. But the for Hawaiian paddling. The open-top cockpit keeps
list also includes something most people might not you cool in the tropical breezes, lets you jump in
realize--prime paddling. Need proof? Look no and out to swim or snorkel, and enables you to surf
further than the early Polynesians who came to the waves safely and easily. Closed-deck touring
islands more than a thousand years ago in kayaks are also available at outfitters, and
double-hull voyaging canoes. They decided to lower-performance recreational kayaks are available
vacation here forever, bringing their culture with at resorts and beach concessions.
them. And Hawaii's waters--some of the most
beautiful and user-friendly in the world--are just as Outfitters:
rewarding for modern-day paddlers as they were A good outfitter will provide you with a sit-on-top
for these early Polynesians. Cool trade winds fan or touring kayak with hatches, a paddle, a paddle
the islands with ocean-fresh air, the water is warm leash, PFD, knee straps (if applicable), backrest and
and clear, and backdrops range from thundering a dry bag. Most outfitters will pick you up at an
waterfalls to towering cliffs draped in tropical airport or hotel, bring you to the put-in and then
foliage. Combine this with the chance to snorkel pick you up at the take- out.
coral reefs teeming with sea life, bathe in warm What to Bring:
lagoons under multi-colored sunsets, and live Bring personal gear consisting of: aquatic footwear,
Robinson Crusoe-style on fresh fruit and fish, and wide brim hat, waterproof sunscreen, paddling
you too might find yourself staying--and clothes, mask, fins and snorkel, water bottle, and a
paddling--in Hawaii longer than expected. retainer for glasses and hat. Camping gear should be
Kauai's Na Pali Coast appropriate for warm weather. Bedding can be light,
but a sleeping pad is important for some of the
The Na Pali coast is the most popular sea kayak rockier beaches. Don't forget to bring a water
destination in Hawaii. Located on the north coast purification system. There are plenty of clear cool
of the island of Kaua'i, it is also considered one of running streams but few of them are safe to drink.
the best and safest trips for beginning and Info.:
intermediate paddlers. Among its attributes are Hui Wa'a Kaukahi Kayak Club, P.O. Box 11588,
beautiful sand beaches, dramatic sea cliffs and Honolulu HI 96826; D.L.N.R. Dept. State Parks.
caves, ancient ruins, spectacular snorkeling and P.O. Box 621, Honolulu HI 96809; Hawaii Tourism
beach combing. Office, (808) 586-2550; Hawaii Visitors Bureau,
For a private trip along the coast you'll need a (808) 923-1811. Maps of all islands are available
permit (take our advice and apply for one early). from the University of Hawaii Press. Another good
State Park camping permits for Ha'ena Beach book for paddling Hawaii is the Lonely Planet
Park, landing permits for Nu'alolo Kai, and Guidebook, 4th ed., (800) 275-8555.
camping permits for Kalalau Valley and Miloli'i
are available from the Department of Land and Natural Resources (see phone number below). Our
recommendation? Camp at Ha'ena at the put-in your first night and use any spare time to explore the dry
and wet cave, both within walking distance from the campground. The real fun, however, begins the next
day. While paddling from Ha'enna to Kalalau, make sure to explore the variety of sea caves along the
way. For their first night out, most kayakers camp in a large, dry cave at Kalalau Beach, although there
are plenty of forested campsites as well. This is a great place for a layover day--hikers are rewarded with
fruit trees, waterfalls and swimming holes. On the way to your final camp at Miloli'i, stop at Nu'alolo Kai
for lunch where you can explore ancient ruins and go snorkeling. Miloli'i is the quiet spot on the coast,
offering exquisite beach combing, a hike up a serpentine canyon and dolphins frolicking offshore. Just
beware of rocks falling off the canyon's steep walls. The last day's paddle to the take-out at Polihale
beach is usually calm and glassy, and a great spot to use up any remaining film.
TRIP TIDBITS
Where: Ha'ena State Park to Polihale State Park on the island of Kaua'i.
Length: 15 miles.
When: June to August.
Camping: Three locations.
Experience Level: Beginner to intermediate.
Outfitter: Outfitters Kaua'i (808) 742-9667.
Permits: Department of Land and Natural Resources (808) 274-3444; State Parks Office (808) 245-4444.
Books: Paddling Hawaii by Audrey Sutherland; Beaches of Kaua'i and Ni'ihau by John Clark, and On the Na Pali Coast
by Kathy Valier.
Oahu
O'ahu is the most populated of Hawaii's islands. This is not
surprising as it has some of the best beaches in the state. Even
though it is largely urban, however, the island offers superb
paddling, from day trips along the coast to overnighters with
camping at road-access campgrounds. Two paddles stand out.
Although you can't camp there, the Mokulua Islands, twin islands a
mile off Lanikai beach, is a popular and easy day-trip. The islets are
bird sanctuaries, so stay on the beaches or rocky tidepool areas
instead of venturing inland. Surfing the channel between the islands
is best done in winter; snorkeling, tidepool exploration and
picnicking are prime summertime activities. Beware of the shallow
coral reefs when the surf is up. Kahana Bay Beach Park and Kahana
stream is the place for those wanting that paddle-in-a- jungle feeling.
You can paddle on a calm jungle stream sprinkled with blossoms and
on the ocean all in one trip. Although activities in the area include
everything from beach combing to surfing, the most unique thing to
do is paddle a mile up Kahana stream and let the jungle work its
magic. The trip is ideal for everyone from beginners to experts, but
exercise caution if rain is eminent--the stream reaches its banks
quickly.
TRIP TIDBITS
Where: The island of O'ahu.
Length: Varies.
When: Year round.
Camping: Roadside.
Experience Level: Beginner to intermediate.
Outfitter: Go Bananas (808) 737-9514.
Permits: Department of Land and Natural Resources (808) 274-3444; Division of State Parks (808) 548-7455.
Books: Paddling Hawaii by Audrey Sutherland; Beaches of O'ahu by John Clark.
Molokai
The island of Moloka'i is wild and enchanting. Its north coast holds the same allure for paddlers. Here
you can kayak below towering sea cliffs--the tallest in the world--and explore remote valleys, sea caves,
islets and sea stacks. The trip begins at Halawa valley at the eastern side of the island. The launch is in
the calm water of Halawa bay, but this is the last calm water you can expect for the duration of the trip.
Papalaua valley is the first landing. To find this spot look for a large sea arch and paddle through it to
find the landing. There are a few tent spots in this narrow valley, and a good hike can be had that
culminates in a large swimming hole at the base of a 300-foot waterfall. Warm rains often fall on this
coast, so be prepared with a tarp to keep dry.
The next valley you reach on the coast is Wailau, which sometimes has a summertime settlement of
people who walk in on a foot trail; followed by the valley of Pelekunu, which makes an excellent
basecamp for hiking and kayaking the area's bays, coves and islets. Plan to spend the bulk of your time
here. From Pelekunu you have three options. One is to paddle back the way you came if the winds are
light. The next is to paddle around Kalaupapa Peninsula (this can be long and difficult, however, as
currents and waves off the tip are challenging). If you go this route, rest in the lee of the island before
rounding the point. Once you have made it around Kalaupapa you can land on the western shore only if
you have permission in advance. Kalaupapa is still a Hansen's disease settlement and a permit is required
from the board of health. There is no threat of contracting the disease, but access to the area is controlled.
To land, contact one of the tour guides operating trips on the island. If you opt to paddle clear of
Kalaupapa, there is no place to land--and no fresh water--until you reach Kawa'aloa. Strong paddlers are
the only ones to make this long trip. The fishing is outstanding and the landscape like a desert with sand
dunes marching off to the foothills.
From here you paddle around 'Ilio Point to Kawakiu Nui, a small cove in cattle country. This area is also
home to the dreaded kiawe bush, whose long sharp thorns can shred bare feet and sleeping pads. The
snorkeling is great here and you may find the sunken ruins of a boat in the cove's water. From this bay
you have only a short paddle back to civilization (the Sheraton Moloka'i Hotel is a welcome sight for
lunch or an overnight stay). If you wish to bypass the hotel, land at Papohaku beach and complete your
shuttle.
TRIP TIDBITS
Where: The island of Moloka'i, from Halawa bay to Papohaku beach.
Length: Twenty to 45 miles.
When: June through August.
Camping: Plentiful locations, no permits needed.
Experience Level: Advanced to expert.
Outfitter: Go Bananas (808) 737-9514.
Permits: Dept. of Health (808) 567-6320; Molokai Mule Ride (808) 567-6088; Father Damien Tours (808) 567-6171;
Ike's Scenic Tours (808) 567-6437; National Parks Service (808) 567-6102.
Books: Paddling Hawaii, by Audrey Sutherland; Beaches of Maui County by John Clark.
Lanai
Lanai is the smallest of the populated islands in Hawaii. It is a small town and has genuine indigenous
charm. The relaxed pace of life on this island is a welcome relief from the hectic urban lifestyle. The best
way to paddle on Lanai is to bring an inflatable kayak. There are no outfitters, and planes that fly to the
island are very small. It is possible to ship a kayak by barge to Kaumalapau Harbor, but the schedule is
limited. The West Coast offers the best paddling, with put-ins and take-outs at Kaumalapau Harbor. This
is a working harbor but is not busy. >From here you will paddle north along a coast dotted with coves,
sea caves and cliffs. Snorkeling in these waters is spectacular; dolphins often frequent the area, jumping
out of the water and spinning in mid air to entertain paddlers. The Nanoha Sea Stacks, small islets that
look like castles in the sea, make a nice lunch spot. One of them has a shady cave complete with front
and back doors, a window and a table-like rock in the middle. Snorkeling around these islands is good,
and it is a simple paddle back to the harbor at the end of the day.
TRIP TIDBITS
Where: The Island of Lanai.
Length: 6 miles round trip.
When: Year round, depending on weather.
Camping: Manele Bay
Experience Level: Beginner to advanced.
Outfitter: NA
Permits: State parks
Books: Paddling Hawaii by Sutherland; The Beaches Of Maui County by John Clark.
Festival Facts
Festival Date: June 26-28, 1998
Years Running: 16
Competitions: Rodeo, Slalom and Downriver competitions.
River Description: Animas River, near Durango, Colo., Class II-III. Accessible at many parks in and
near Durango. The Animas River through Durango is a paddler's paradise!
Fund Raising: Live and silent auction at the event.
Best Post-paddle Eatery: Carver's Bakery & Brewery, Lady Falconburgh's Barley Exchange, Mama
Boy's Restaurant.
Best Post-paddle Party: At the Ska Brew Factory.
Best Playspot: Santa Rita Hole at 2,800 cfs or more for some big-water hole playing; or Smelter Rapid
in Whitewater Park for some dizzying cartwheels and super fast surf.
Best Camping Area: Junction Creek Campground-North on Hwy. 550 in Durango, left at 25th Street,
continue and 25th will change to Junction Creek Road, go about five miles to campground on the left.
Best Awards/Prizes: Animas River Days Ceramic Mugs to the top three places in each class.
Most Unique Event: The Working Class. Must have a nine-to-five office job to enter this class. Also a
Sotar Cup Raft Race and a river dog fetching contest.
Average attendance: 800-2,000 people from the U.S., New Zealand, Costa Rica, Germany and other
countries around the world.
Contact person and phone: Four Corners River Sports, (970) 259-3893
--Nancy Wiley
FIBArk/Headwaters
Championships
Salida, Colorado
This year marks the 50th anniversary of FIBArk (First in Boating on the Arkansas)-the oldest whitewater
festival in the country. FIBArk was born out of a challenge made in 1948 to see who could be the fastest
to boat from Salida to Canon City, a race of over 50 miles through Class III to V whitewater, a race that
would be daunting even today. After three years the test was shortened to about 26 miles eliminating the
treacherous Royal Gorge section. In 1953 Eric Seidel brought slalom racing to the U.S. at FIBArk. In
1994 freestyle paddling was included. Over the past 50 years FIBArk has developed from a challenge
between a few daredevils, to a community and whitewater-world institution drawing around 5,000
boaters, spectators and fun- loving folk of every description. The events surrounding the festival have
also grown, including live music, a carnival, running races, raft races, the infamous Hooligan race
(anything that floats that is not a boat) and the biggest parade of the year in Salida on Saturday morning.
"FIBArk-the oldest and the boldest."
Festival Facts
Festival Date: June 18-21, 1998
Years Running: 50th anniversary in 1998!
Competitions: Freestyle, Slalom, Downriver (26 mile and sprints), Hooligan (anything that floats that
isn't a boat), Tenderfoot Mountain Running Race, SOTAR Cup.
River Description: Arkansas River. Slalom and freestyle at Salida boat ramp, Class II; Downriver,
Salida to Cotapaxi, Class III-IV, 26 miles.
Fund Raising: Headwaters Championships is an NOWR event that last year raised money to support the
Colorado Whitewater Association in river access projects, American Whitewater in river conservation
efforts, and FIBArk to improve the local river corridor.
Best Post-paddle Eatery: Vendors in the park, or Il Vicino if you can get in (pizza and the best
microbrewery in the state).
Best Post-paddle Party: Hang out in the park, then head to the Vic.
Best Playspot: The playhole at the Salida boat ramp; Ender Rock in the Numbers (Class IV); Browns
Canyon (Class III); the Royal Gorge (Class IV); or Parkdale (Class III).
Best Camping Area: Just south of town (ever since they quit letting paddlers camp on the boat ramp).
Best Awards/Prizes: They're all good, and with tons of events and categories, you should be able to get
one--even if you don't want it.
Most Unique Event: Hooligan Race on Friday night.
Average attendance: 5,000 plus.
Contact person and phone: P.T. Wood, (719) 539-3174
--P. T. Wood
Payette Whitewater Roundup
Boise, Idaho
One of the oldest festivals around, the Payette Whitewater Roundup is a must- hit for paddlers looking
for a great time and some classic Idaho whitewater. An inflatable bladder to create the "perfect" wave
controls the phenomenal rodeo spot at the Gutter, and the slalom course is designed by Gold Medal
Olympian Joe Jacobi. Besides the freestyle and slalom competitions, there is a Cascade Kayak
Sit-On-Top race, a Maravia Raft Downriver Challenge and an Aire River-Rescue Rodeo. The Junior
crowd even has its own freestyle competition. The festival takes the vast local whitewater resources and
puts together one fantastic event with something for everyone.
Festival Facts
Festival Date: July 10-12
Years Running: 18 years
Competitions: Freestyle; Junior freestyle; Slalom; Wildwater; Downriver kayak; Cascade Kayak
Sit-on-Top; Maravia Raft Downriver Challenge; Aire/Intermountain Orthopedics River-Rescue Rodeo.
River Description: Freestyle-the Gutter in Horseshoe Bend, Class III. Slalom- Otter Slide on the North
Fork of the Payette (off the highway, two miles north of Banks), Class II-III.
Fund Raising: Idaho Rivers United
Best Post-paddle Eatery: For casual to fancy hit Danskin Station; for burgers and fries check out the
Bank's Café.
Best Post-paddle Party: Saturday night at the RIO (Cascade River Center). Barbecue, live band,
dancing, silent auction and boat raffle.
Best Playspot: Take your pick-the Gutter, Main Playwave, or the South Fork Surf Wave.
Best Camping Area: Otter Slide. It's free festival-weekend to all boaters.
Best Awards/Prizes: The coveted hand-thrown Payette Whitewater Roundup mug. You cannot buy this
mug at any price, you must win it. Prize corral at the awards ceremony, everyone goes home with
something.
Most Unique Event: Junior Freestyle Competition.
Average attendance: 170 boaters, 250 spectators.
Contact person and phone: Ted Ryan, (208) 344-2567
--Debbi Long
American River Festival
Placerville, California
The river gods smile upon us. The sun drenches us in September and the utilities cooperate. Things start
on Saturday at Chili Bar. Registration gets going early; the Wildwater Race usually takes off at 9 or 10
a.m., with takeout just above Troublemaker Rapid and shuttles ready for kayakers who have to be back
upstream for the rodeo. The rodeo starts at noon. When the day's exertions wrap up, we move upstream a
few hundred yards to the Nugget Campground, where we have our annual party/dinner/auction bash.
There's always one if not two local bands playing, and Rubicon Brewing Company always provides a
few kegs. The next morning the Class II Slalom Race starts early at the Nugget, and runs through most of
the day. Around midmorning the Raft Race- a short but demanding slalom-and-task kind of course-starts
at the Nugget and winds up at Chili Bar, so it's possible to do both if you're so inclined. It's a grand old
event on a beautiful stretch of river!
Festival Facts
Festival Date: September 12-13, 1998
Years Running: 17
Competitions: Rodeo, Downriver Race, Raft Race and Slalom Race.
River Description: The slalom course is Class II and starts below Chili Bar Dam; Wildwater race is
Class II to III from Chili Bar to Trouble Maker, nine miles; Rodeo is at Chili Bar, right at the put-in.
Fund Raising: Money goes to the American River Conservancy, which has protected over 1,400 acres
of South Fork habitat and owns and manages a conservation easement (the first-ever recorded in El
Dorado County) which guarantees river access at Chili Bar in perpetuity.
Best Post-paddle Eatery: Marco's Café in Lotus.
Best Post-paddle Party: Post race party at the Nugget Campground.
Best Playspot: Barking Dog, if the flow is over 1,200 cfs.
Best Camping Area: Camping is available at the Nugget Campground for participants and their families
for a nominal fee.
Best Awards/Prizes: Organic cotton T-shirts. Raffle and silent and live auctions.
Most Unique Event: Nothing too unique, just everything you would expect from a classic river festival.
Average attendance: Over 400 people.
Contact person and phone: American River Conservancy, (530) 621-1224
--Larry Goral
Kern River Festival
Kernville, California
The Kern River Festival is a classic--and, with its laid-back Southern California charm, it's perhaps one
of the best ways to start off your spring paddling season. The event takes place downtown in Kernville's
municipal park, and campsites abound where you can hang out by the river, swap lies from the previous
season and shot the breeze with hundreds of like-minded paddlers. It is the first whitewater festival of the
year in the West and is the oldest and largest whitewater festival west of the Rockies (started in 1964 by
legendary boater Tom Johnson). Great boating exists all over the place, including most sections of the
Kern (Upper, Forks and Lower) and such tributaries as Brush and Dry Meadow creeks. Kernville has
unusually warm springtime weather and this brings out the best in all of its fun-loving attendees. (More
information is available from the Sierra South web page at www.sierrasouth.com.)
Festival Facts
Festival Date: April 17-19, 1998
Years Running: 34
Competitions: Citizens TJ Classic Slalom, Whitewater Rodeo and Downriver Races. Also NOWR 1st
Tier Pro Rodeo. Also the whitewater slalom western regional qualifier for the U.S. National Team.
River Description: Forks of the Kern, Class IV-V; Upper Kern, four runs, Class III-V; Kern near
Kernville, five runs, Class II-IV.
Fund Raising: Auction on Saturday night for the Kern River Alliance, the local boater's group involved
with junior kayak development, river conservation and local dam relicensing.
Best Post-paddle Eatery: Cheryl's Diner for breakfast; then Pizza Barn, That's Italian and McNally's for
dinner.
Best Post-paddle Party: Anywhere Team Wave Sport is hanging out. There's also a pre-event barbecue
party Thursday night at the River View Lodge in Kernville.
Best Playspot: Hospital Flat, Salmon Creek, Riverside Park (best place to show off).
Best Camping Area: 15 miles of riverside campgrounds above Kernville, or anywhere Team Wave
Sport is camping.
Best Awards/Prizes: General auction bootie, as well as several Wave Sport kayaks donated to the Kern
River Alliance youth program.
Most Unique Event: Listening to stories about Dry Meadow Creek.
Average attendance: Over 200 paddlers from around the world.
Contact person and phone: Linda Ivins, (805) 871-6790; Sierra South, (805) 872-4424.
--Tom Moore
Upper Clackamas Whitewater
Festival
Estacada, Oregon
The Upper Clackamas Whitewater Festival is the sweetheart of all inflatable events. In fact, it is one of
the only all-inflatable events in the country. Less than an hour from the sprawling burbs of Portland,
Oregon, the Clackamas River has long been a favorite haunt for Northwest paddlers. The Clackamas
carves a deep, V-shaped canyon that sucks in boaters with promises of crystalline pools, swift currents
and churning whitewater. From the plunging cascades of the North Fork Clackamas to the churning
shoulders of Bob's Hole (now back in full force after a brief disappearance due to flooding), the Clack
has a bit of everything. Smack dab in the heart of the Upper Clack lies Carter's Falls, a four-foot-high,
riverwide lava bench backed by a carnivorous hole. In the two-mile section framing Carter's, pushy Class
III drops create big waves, narrow chutes, and challenging currents. It is in this section that rafters and
inflatable kayakers meet each May to test their mettle against gates, holes and fellow river runners.
Organized by the Northwest Rafters Association, it combines the feeling of a good old-fashioned river
rendezvous with the well-organized aura of serious competition. It is a place where first-timers rub
shoulders with veterans of international competitions, and Dutch oven aficionados claim as much of the
spotlight as top paddling teams.
Festival Facts
Festival Date: the weekend before Memorial Day.
Years Running: 10 years
Competitions: This is a rafting and inflatable kayaking competition, with over a dozen downriver and
slalom events.
River Description: The Upper Clackamas contains intermittent Class III+ rapids, a moderate gradient,
and enchanting roadside scenery.
Fund Raising: Money for river conservation comes from entry fees and raffle tickets.
Best Post-paddle Eatery: Stick around for some Dutch oven food from cook-off competitors, and plunk
down a few bucks on a burger from the vendors.
Best Post-paddle Party: There's a band and a slide show every year.
Best Playspot: Miss a stroke, turn sideways and flip in Carter's, or grab your hardshell and head
downstream to Bob's Hole.
Best Camping Area: There's camping all over the place, but the campgrounds around Carter's Bridge
are the pick of the litter.
Best Awards/Prizes: The SOTAR Cup has generally been the brass ring, but there's something for every
category.
Most Unique Event: The SOTAR Cup is a grueling, long distance Downriver race that leaves
competitors drained... before they even start competing in the standard events!
Average attendance: Folks flock here by the hundreds!
Contact person and phone: Angie Evans, (503) 665-6492.
--Jeff Bennett
"I kayak to surf," a friend once told me on the Grand Canyon. We were
sitting in an eddy next to an eye-peeling wave and he had just finished the
ride of his life. His poetic waxing, most likely, was a result of adrenaline,
oxygen deprivation, general exhaustion and, of course, a healthy dose of
euphoria. But even in this mind-altered state, his words rang true. Whether
you're catching a swell in a touring kayak en route to a beach landing,
digging upstream to surf a soggy inflatable, surfing wind-chop in a fully Eugene Buchanan
laden canoe or spinning 360s in a planing hull, few feelings in paddling
match that of a solid surf. It's a sensation that's hard to describe. When
gravity and water join forces to propel your craft faster than even Arnold
Schwarzenegger's arms could muster, time gets put on hold and loses all
meaning. Deadlines dissolve, mortgages become irrelevant and significant
others become slightly less significant. For the time you're on the wave,
everything else in the world slides to the back burner, leaving just you,
your boat and the wave.
We wish we could say that surfing our new website (www.aca- paddler.org/paddler) provides that same
sort of thrill, that charge of adrenaline as you hold on for the ride. In truth, however, we fully understand
that it pales in comparison to the real McCoy (anyone who feels differently might want to re-assess their
priorities). But even though it falls far short of the exhilaration of surfing a Grand Canyon glassy, we
can't help but be a little excited about this newest addition to our publishing arsenal. It might not have the
bells and whistles of a site put out by Microsoft or Websites-R- Us, but it has at its core what has made
Paddler what it is today.
It doesn't contain the whole magazine, mind you--that's what subscriptions and cover prices are for. But
it contains cross sections of each and every issue, from gear reviews and letters to the editor to Hotline
briefs, Eco blurbs and full-length features. You'll also find that Paddler Online offers a lot more,
including several things that aren't in the magazine. One is a direct link to all of our advertisers, letting
you access their websites with the click of your mouse. Another is access to back issues (starting in Feb.
'98) so you can reference past stories. The site also contains the latest calendar listings for paddling
events throughout the country, information on how to subscribe and advertise, and a special feature that
lets you e-mail the editor to share thoughts on anything from past articles to problems plaguing your
favorite waterway. If you're e-mailing us in the spring or summer, however, be prepared to wait a little
while for a response. While you're surfing our website, chances are we'll be doing the same on our
favorite waterway.
--Eugene Buchanan
eddylines
Rodeo Rebuttal
Politics and Paddling (Feb. '98)? More like Publicity Stunts and Rumors. Where did you get your
information? Mr. Addison developed his boat around "existing rules"--that he himself developed and
convinced his local rodeo organizer to add in time for the IRC deadline. Why do you think every member
of the International Rodeo Committee voted that they had the right to make a change so close to the
event? Dagger, Necky and Perception also developed flat-spin boats, yet encouraged the change in the
name of fairness, as the flat moves were grossly overrated. New, yes; difficult, no. Mr. Addison was
videotaped agreeing to a proposed change just three days before the event. Immediately afterward he
smashed into the rocky hole bottom and floated far downstream doubled-over and clutching his left side.
The U.S. camp was told he had re-injured a previous rib injury and would not be competing. We knew he
would not sit and watch quietly, but what a shame that his resulting publicity stunt received more
attention than the event or other competitors. The IRC did not ban any boats. Why is it that every
kayaking magazine in the world is covering this story with the same inaccuracies? Are they reading the
same press release put out by protesters? Could it be that someone is promoting his own rodeo
organization and needs to smear the existing one to have any chance of success? Corran Addison is not
only an extremely gifted paddler, but also the most talented self-promoter in kayaking. Paddler magazine
has just run a free ad.
--Clay Wright, IRC Chairman, 1997 World Rodeo Championships
--As any journalist knows, a good story needs conflict, which, in his usual fashion, Corran
provided plenty of at the championships. Before reporting on it, we went to several other
sources to garner second and third opinions. We also made sure to give due coverage to the
winners and the event itself. Thanks for the feedback. --Eds
Tragic Tale
I found the article by Eugene Buchanan on "The Tragic Summer of 1997" (Feb. '98) to be very sobering
and incredibly real. The deaths of four skilled and well-known paddlers is tough reading. I feel badly for
those who knew them and, especially, for Rich Weiss' wife and newborn son. Separately, the picture on
page 99 was great. Well done, Paddler.
--Ray@rec.boats.paddle
Nice Issue
Congratulations on the February '98 issue--one of the best yet! The Verlen Kruger interview was
especially good reading for those of us who are interested in design innovations. It's also always helpful
to have an updated Buyer's Guide handy. Thanks again for a great issue of Paddler. Keep 'em coming.
--Mike McCrea, Freeland, Maryland
Shuttle Service
I couldn't help but notice "The Nation's Scariest Shuttles" article (Aug. '97). I am quite familiar with the
road out of Pittsburgh Landing in Hells Canyon. My first trip out of Pittsburgh Landing was in the early
70s shortly after the condemnations proceedings started to take place on the private land in Hells
Canyon. While the road has been improved quite a bit since then, it is still not a Sunday stroll in the park.
Back in 1983 my dad and I started a company called Hells Canyon Adventures, a company that offers
both jet boat and float trips through the canyon. Also in 1983 we started a service with the jet boats
called a Jet Back. After people finished floating the river we hauled rafts, kayaks, gear and passengers
back up to the put-in where everyone had left their vehicles--no shuttle to worry about, and no Pittsburgh
Landing road! The service has skyrocketed in demand--most people would rather have a second look at
the canyon than deal with driving out of Pittsburgh Landing.
--Bret Armacost, Oxbow, Oregon
Book Addition
OHMYGOSH! I just finished reading Deep Trouble-True Sea Kayak Stories and Their Lessons by Matt
Broze and George Gronseth (Ragged Mountain Press, 1997), straight through, cover to cover. As an avid
reader of anything on paddling, I found it to be the most interesting and relevant book yet on sea
kayaking. Without it, Bill Cross and Jeff Bennett's "Complete Rundown of Instructional Paddling Books"
(Oct. '97) is incomplete.
--Cathy Chute, Mill Valley, California
Race Facts
Si Durney missed a few facts in his article on the Sea Gypsy Kayak Race (Feb. '98). This is
understandable in light of the thrashing he and his partners endured after capsizing in the wave-tossed sea
that day. But I want to set the record straight for your readers. First of all, the Tsunami Rangers did not
design the course to prove the superiority of their craft. Eric Soares, Jim Kakuk and I designed the course
over beers in my hot tub one night. Our intention was to hold a race that we had a chance to win: an
obstacle course where skill, trickery, judgement and luck play a bigger role than mere speed and
endurance. Secondly, sit-on-top kayaks have no advantage in this race; closed-deck boats have won as
often as sit-on-tops. Kenny Howell and I won this race in a Necky Nootka, a closed-deck double. I've
been a member of the Tsunami Rangers for a number of years and have always paddled a closed-cockpit
kayak with no problem. If you flip a closed-cockpit kayak and swim, don't blame it on the boat. Finally,
Kenny and I did not take a more "conservative route" around Flat Rock. On the contrary, we were a boat
length in front of John Dixon and Russ Pritchett and cut it very close, punching a 12-foot wave while
trying to lure them into danger. They took the same route we did; they just miss-timed the waves, as did a
number of other contestants. In any case, there is no conservative route around the north end of Flat
Rock.
--John Lull, El Granada, California
Sit-on-top Trouble
The letter in Eddylines (Oct. '97) about inflatable kayaks that go flaccid with temperature change allowed
me a grunt of recognition. I have suffered a similar problem in different circumstances. My partner and I
were exploring the brackish marsh near Bayou Lacombe on the north shore of Lake Pontchartrain on a
very hot July afternoon. The tide was low and the water in the black- bottomed ponds was very shallow
and hot (95-100 degrees F). We were using a rotationally molded polyethylene sit-on-top kayak which,
after an hour or so, became stuck fast in the mud. After violently struggling to move on, I bailed out and
crawled through the mud to deeper water. My partner was able to follow in the lightened boat. I was
covered head to toe in hot, smelly, black Louisiana gumbo mud and somewhat displeased. As we
paddled out to the lake, the boat was listing considerably and had very little freeboard. Once in the lake
we were able to get out and examine it. Its smooth polyethylene bottom had softened and become
concave, robbing it of buoyancy. A good soaking in Lake Pontchartrain got most of the mud off and
allowed the boat time to cool down. The hull resumed its shape and we were able to proceed. I guess the
manufacturer of this boat had not conceived of water this temperature. They certainly didn't want to talk
about it when I brought it to their attention.
--Ben Taylor, Hammond, Louisiana
Witch Doctor
I am writing in praise of a surf kayak designed by Hunt Johnsen of Honolulu. I have been an avid paddler
and surfer of wave and surf skis for over 15 years and was seeking a hybrid craft for use on a reef break
near my home. Mr. Johnsen's design, the Wave Witch (the 10'6" version is the Witchlet) has exceeded
my expectations for a high-performance surf kayak. I have paddled it in both large storm surf and big
swells and have found that it performs extremely well in all conditions (an understatement). It is capable
of catching the smallest of waves, including boat wakes that can only be measured in inches! My surf
sessions end with a quarter-mile paddle through a somewhat treacherous inlet, quite often against a
falling tide producing a current in excess of 3 knots--the Witchlet is able to make headway with little
effort. My Witchlet is made from Kevlar/S Glass, foam-core and carbon fiber construction with a
Systems 3 Epoxy finish. It is extremely light (approx. 26 lbs.) and very stiff. Steering is accomplished
through the use of a footbar-operated rudder system which I have found to be much more responsive than
the toe-pedal system found on other boats. Any interested readers should contact Hunt at 3554 Maunaloa
Ave., Honolulu, HI 96816; (808) 735-3860.
--Cliff von Langen, Lighthouse Point, Florida
Flatwater Fan
I began receiving Paddler after joining the American Canoe Association through a local chapter. Quite
frankly, I've been disappointed in this magazine. It seems to be fixated on kayaking and whitewater
canoeing, which in my experience appeals to a very small percentage of the canoeing population. I don't
feel Paddler offers much for those of us who paddle quieter waters in open boats. In order for this
magazine to hold my interest, I would like to see more articles on canoeing experiences that emphasize
enjoying the natural world, wildlife watching and wilderness tripping. To me, canoeing can be exciting
and challenging without a whitewater, adrenaline fix. As a frequent visitor to Quetico Provincial Park, I
subscribe to the "Boundary Waters Journal" and look forward to every issue. I'm sure that there are many
other places in North America that offer similar experiences. I would like to read about them in your
magazine.
--Tom Hodgson, Chelsea, Michigan
Hotline
Unlike some groups rallying against all jet ski use, the ACA believes as an underlying principle that land
and water use policy should allow for all Americans, regardless of their chosen recreational pursuits, to
enjoy access to appropriate recreational resources in a safe and non-destructive fashion. In short, we are
not opposed to all jet ski use, as some groups are currently proposing. Nonetheless, we believe we need
to draw clear lines regarding their behavior and ensure the needs and safety of paddlers and other users
are protected. This means identifying places where jet ski use is inappropriate and preventing use in
those areas; ensuring that adequate regulations and penalties exist to protect paddlers from irresponsible
jet ski use; and making sure those laws are enforced. But even accomplishing these goals will require a
significant and orchestrated effort on the part of the nation's paddlers. The Personal Watercraft Industry
Association (PWIA), which is working to expand jet ski use everywhere, has a large war chest, powerful
lobbyists and a formidable legal team.
In order to represent the interests of paddlers and other waterway users, the ACA has formed the
Coalition for Responsible Waterway Recreation (CRWR), comprised of organizations (both non-profit
and commercial) which have an interest in the safe and non-destructive enjoyment of the nation's
recreational waterways. CRWR's national agenda on the jet ski issue is reasonable and straightforward,
and it promises to be an uphill battle. The cornerstone of CRWR's agenda is to establish adequate
regulations in all 50 states, addressing the poor safety record of jet skis and protecting the rights of other
waterway users. Other CRWR initiatives include amending the Wallop-Breaux Trust Fund to give
greater flexibility to resource managers regarding jet ski regulation and establishing policies within state
and federal agencies ensuring responsible jet ski use. CRWR will also develop a collection of appropriate
case law and ensure that the cost of policing irresponsible jet ski use is borne by the jet ski community
and not by other recreational users or local tax payers. In creating CRWR, the ACA has committed staff
and other resources to support the coalition's efforts, but we need your help. If you have a club, business
or other organization that would like to be part of CRWR, contact the ACA conservation and public
policy office at (703) 451-0141.
For more information on this and other work of the ACA visit the ACA webpage.
####
innuendos
health
Doctor in a Drybag
The 10 Best Medical Books for Paddling
By Buck Tilton
Maybe you're having a bad day on the river. Something hurts! Something isn't
working the way it usually does! Something looks funny! You'd like to have a
doctor in your drybag right now, but the doctor is far away.
Well, the next best thing might be a book by someone who knows wilderness medicine, a book that can
lead you through the proper assessment and treatment of your problem. Here are the 10 Best. They
should be read before you pick up the paddle and leave home miles behind. Most of them can then be
stuffed in a drybag and carried as a reference. All of the authors further recommend you expose yourself
to some medical training appropriate for extended trips into remote areas.
Medicine for Mountaineering
edited by James A. Wilkerson, MD, Fourth Edition, 1992, 416 pages, suggested retail $16.95 (5.25" x
7.75" format). Published by The Mountaineers Books, 1011 SW Klickitat Way, Suite 107, Seattle, Wash.
98134; (800) 553-4453.
With the first edition published in 1967, Wilkerson's ground-breaking editorial effort ranks as the
grandfather of wilderness medicine books. Unlike some grandfathers, this one has managed to stay
young by going through several updating editions. Don't be put off by the title. Very little is going to
happen out there on rivers and oceans that Wilkerson and friends haven't foreseen and covered
adequately. Written by physicians to prepare responders "for the medical problems that may be
encountered in mountaineering and other wilderness activities," this book has been carried in thousands
of canoes and kayaks. Presupposing, in many instances, that the reader has some prior knowledge and
training might make Medicine for Mountaineering difficult for the raw medical amateur to use. It
remains, however, a premier resource for the assessment, treatment, and prevention of problems in the
wild outdoors.
Mountaineering First Aid
by Martha Lentz, Ph.D., RN; Steven Macdonald, MPH, EMT; and Jan Carline, Ph.D., Fourth Edition,
1996, 144 pages, suggested retail $10.95 (5.25" x 8.5" format). Published by The Mountaineers Books,
Seattle, Wash.
First published in 1972, this little book fills in some of the gaps left by the presuppositions of Medicine
for Mountaineering. The procedures are based on a step-by-step approach, taking the rescuer from
trip-planning through assessment and medical care to rescue. Summary checklists make the book handy
to use, and humorous illustrations clarify as well as entertain. As an introduction to outdoor medicine,
this book serves as an excellent resource.
Wilderness Medicine
by William Forgey, MD, Fourth Edition, 1994, 244 pages, suggested retail $14.95 (5.5" x 8.5" format).
Published by ICS Books, 1370 East 86th Place, Merrillville, Ind. 46410; (219) 769-0585.
Doc Forgey has been so active for so long in wilderness medicine some folks just refer to him as "Doc"
and expect you'll know who they mean. Changing medical technology and the growing availability of
non-prescription medical supplies have produced many changes in this book since the first edition came
out in 1979. It remains definitely one of the best, a no-nonsense guide to treating problems when the
"Doc" is far away. Each of the treatments recommended by this book are looked at from three
viewpoints: what first aid measures are necessary, what non-prescription items can be carried to help
with the treatment, and what prescription medications, if you can get them, would be useful. Detailed
instructions for just about everything you can imagine--from pre-trip medical planning to suturing shut a
gaping wound--are included. Doc is refreshingly unafraid to get-down-and-get-dirty, as in the "dissection
method" of fishhook removal: "...we have to resort to what will probably be a difficult experience for the
victim and surgeon alike."
Medicine for the Backcountry
by Buck Tilton and Frank Hubbell, Second Edition, 1994, 192 pages, suggested retail $14.95 (6" x 9.25"
format). Published by ICS Books, 1370 East 86th Place, Merrillville, Ind. 46410; (219) 769-0585.
This is a great book! As co-author I felt deeply obligated to say that. For more than 25 years SOLO, a
training center in New Hampshire, has been offering wilderness medicine programs, and this little book
was originally written as a text for the school's two-day course, now expanded for a much higher level of
medical response. Without presuppositions, it starts from the moment the accident occurs and takes the
reader along through a complete assessment and treatment of the most usual wilderness problems.
Scenarios from real-life and illustrations help the info come alive. Easy reading, with brief outline
summaries of each chapter, make this book useful for anyone who travels where doctors are not around.
Chapters on drowning, diving emergencies, and dangerous marine life are especially appropriate to
water-borne activities. And, unlike many outdoor medical books, a heavy emphasis is placed on
preventive techniques. A healthy addition to any outdoor library.
Medicine for the Outdoors
by Paul S. Auerbach, MD, Second Edition, 1991, 347 pages, suggested retail $14.95 (5.5" x 8.25"
format). Published by Little, Brown and Company, Ordering Dept., 200 West Street, Waltham, Mass.
02154; (800) 759-0190.
Dr. Auerbach avoids unnecessary medical terminology to produce an easy-to- read, easy-to-understand
book that is nicely balanced between a bare bones approach (the very basics) and an exhaustive approach
(everything you could possibly imagine going wrong). A few problems arise when a recommended
treatment falls short of meeting the needs created by some patient's emergencies. This book states boldly,
for instance, "Never move the neck to reposition it" (if you suspect the neck may be broken). Not a bad
idea most of the time, but sometimes patients do better when their neck is gently and properly aligned.
Just make sure you have been adequately trained before you try it.
Waterlover's Guide to Marine Medicine
by Paul G. Gill, Jr., MD, 1993, 255 pages, suggested retail $12 (8.5" x 5.5" format). Published by the
Fireside division of Simon & Schuster, Rockefeller Center, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, N.Y.
10020.
Dr. Gill writes well: his style is easy, unpretentious, informative, understandable...and fun. Each chapter
begins with an interesting quote from seafaring literature before Waterlover's Guide rolls right into the
basics of life support, then on to common traumatic injuries and environmental emergencies. It's full of
practical wilderness wisdom. Following a successful dislocated shoulder reduction, Dr. Gill advises:
"Your patient will break out in a beautific smile..." Informative chapters include Shipboard Dentistry,
Seasickness, Diving Medicine, and Fish Poisoning. Approaching topics with few assumptions, Dr. Gill
helps prepare the untrained to take care of themselves and their friends. This is not a book of
high-sounding medical jargon and in- depth treatments. It is an extremely practical book and, as the title
implies, a quick reference for appropriate care.
Far From Help! Backcountry Medical Care
by Peter Steele, MD, 1991, 241 pages, suggested retail $14.95 paperback, $19.95 cordura packcloth (5"
x 7" format packs easily). Published by Cloudcap, P. O. Box 27344, Seattle, Wash. 98125; (206)
365-9192.
Dr. Steele brings over 30 years of work in wilderness medicine to the printed page in 23 chapters of
"plain English" covering everything from Preliminary Information through Serious Conditions to
Common Ailments. His wealth of wilderness experience is evident in this book as well as in several
others including Doctor on Everest (1972) and Medical Care for Mountain Climbers (1976). Dr. Steele
builds pervasively on a foundation of simplicity and improvisation, both of which are key elements in
wilderness medicine. And he insists, with complete appropriateness, that successful treatment in the
wilderness is much more a result of knowledge and ability than proper equipment. His literary trademark
has become an economical style of writing that may leave the medically uninitiated at a loss with some
treatments. As a reference for folks who have some prior training, this book may prove extremely
valuable. A lot is covered in a few words, and the packcloth edition is virtually indestructible.
Atwater Carey Guide to Marine Medicine
prepared in cooperation with the Marine Medicine Institute, 1994, 102 pages, suggested retail $2.95
(5.5" x 4.25" ring-bound format). Atwater Carey, Ltd., 339 East Rainbow Blvd., Salida, Colo. 81201;
(800) 359-1646.
Definitely the most compact of wilderness medicine books, this little jewel shines with succinct and
reader-friendly advice on the assessment and treatment of dozens of injuries and illnesses, all related to
water-borne activities. Even if you've never taken a pulse, the info in Guide to Marine Medicine will lead
by the hand to successful management of your patient. Unique sections include Advice to International
Travelers and Recommended Drugs.
NOLS Wilderness First Aid
by Tod Schimelpfenig and Linda Lindsey, 1991, 356 pages, suggested retail $12.95 (5.25" x 8.25"
format). Stackpole Books, P. O. Box 1831, Harrisburg, Pa. 17105; (800) 732-3669.
Intended as a text for the first aid section of National Outdoor Leadership School (NOLS) semester
courses, this book will help train any outdoor enthusiast to 1) prevent, recognize, and treat common
wilderness medical emergencies, and 2) stabilize the severely injured and ill for evacuation. Some of the
info you won't find in many other books includes camp hygiene, the effects of stress on rescuers, and
emergency procedures for outdoor groups. It is, as it should be, a reflection of the way NOLS does
things, and it serves as an excellent resource, providing a sound basis for making critical judgment
decisions about patient care in the wilds.
Wilderness First Aid
from the National Safety Council, 1998, 350 pages, suggested retail $19.95 (8.5" x 5.5" format). Jones
and Bartlett Publishers, 40 Tall Pine Drive, Sudbury, Mass. 01776; (978) 443-5000.
The National Safety Council has long been setting standards for excellence in urban safety and injury
education and now take their initial step into the world of wilderness medicine. Written by a team of
doctors, Wilderness First Aid offers exceptional illustrations and capsulated information spread through
the book under the headings of "What To Look For" and "What To Do." Self- recognized as a beginning
book with suggestions for more training for those "who plan to increase their skills beyond the
introductory level," you could have a much worse introduction.
first descents
eco
marketplace review
Stowing gear in a canoe is a touchy subject. It's not like a kayak where you can
just stuff a drybag behind the cockpit and forget about it. And you can't just clip it
on to a frame like you can on a raft. If your canvas portage bags are getting worn
out, consider using the following modern-day counterparts: the best in hard-shell,
waterproof storage boxes for your open boat, whether you're taking it on the flats
or the rapids, for days or for weeks. Keep in mind, however, that these cases are
not limited to canoes. The following boxes have been used on international
rafting expeditions by professional photographers, on SCUBA expeditions by
divers, and by countless others with valuable equipment to protect. So say
goodbye to soggy canvas and take advantage of hard-shell technology. Your
equipment will be glad you did.
Pelican Products
Torrance, Calif.'s Pelican Products manufactures bombproof cases for adventure travelers, field
technicians and extreme conditions photographers. Because of their durability, they might even be too
much box for the recreational canoeist with a few sandwiches, some sunblock and a spare hat to keep
dry. But if photography is your game, look no further. The boxes are made from a
copolymer/polypropylene structural resin, making them rigid and strong; latches are snap-down ABS;
pins are stainless steel; foam is two-pound polyester; and the O-ring is a 250-neoprene sponge. Pelican
cases are available in 13 sizes ($27.45 to $259.95), made to fit inside everything from a whitewater
playboat to a Voyageur canoe. We tested the #1500 ($133.65, 7 lbs.; black, silver or orange) which was
ideal for our laptop and camera and fit nicely inside a tandem canoe. We also checked out the
suitcase-sized #1650 ($289.95, 23 lbs.; black) featuring six latches and wheels, again bomber for any
application imaginable--especially if you're planning to make a video documentary of your next Grand
Canyon trip. Accessories span from in-box lighting systems to photo-organizer inserts. Pelican Products
has a testing program involving a stacking test, a drop test, an immersion test and humidity cycling;
however, the company's reliability in paddlesports for 22 years is also good R & D. Pelican Products
feature a lifetime warranty, and are distributed by Perception (800-595-2925), Northwest River Supplies
(800-635-5202), and Wildwasser Sport USA (303-444-2336). Info.: (800) 473-5422.
York Packs
Yarmouth, Maine's York Pack is built specifically to
endure the rigors of use on harsh Northeastern canoe
trips, but they've also been used on expeditions on
every continent on earth. The York Pack 200
($119.95/ 5364 cu. in.) is roto-molded for
professional use. The York Pack 80 ($69.95/2325 cu.
in.) is blow-molded and designed for the recreational
paddler. There are 10 built-in tie-down points on each
model, and two one-inch nylon straps secure the lid.
With optional padded shoulder straps ($39.95) the
York Pack can be carried like a backpack during
portages. Other accessories include the York Pack 80
Photo Organizer ($119.95), the York Pack 200
Organizer ($49.95) for added camping convenience
on canoe trips, and Cable Locks ($19.95 for the 80/$25.95 for the 200) for shipping-all UPS approved.
Both sizes can be used as seats, and lids invert into work trays. York Packs are distributed by Voyageur
(802-496-3127), and by Northwest River Supplies (800-635-5202). Info.: (800) 787-6649.
marketplace review
skills
destinations
Contacts
In the Southeast, the best river running is in the
spring and fall, and the Gauley offers the best
whitewater in September and October, so plan your
trip accordingly. All five rivers are serviced by
rafting companies offering guided and completely
outfitted runs, so all you need to show up with are
the clothes on your back and no fear. Each raft
comes fully equipped with an experienced guide, a
Let's try a little geographic word association. I'll feature you will come to appreciate. One thing that
give you a subject and you tell me the first location quickly becomes apparent is that while the water
that comes to mind. When I say, "whitewater may not be as big on eastern rivers, the technical
rafting," odds are you will think immediately of challenge is often greater. Eastern rivers tend to be
the Snake, Green, Colorado or Salmon rivers. rockier and more constricted and convoluted than
their western counterparts, requiring more
Why? Because serious whitewater rafting in this
maneuvering and quicker paddling moves.
country has become almost synonymous with the
Consequently, your level of involvement is greater
wild rivers of the West, and any conversation
and you will find yourself constantly responding to
about rafting inevitably segues into tales invoking
the shouted directions of a guide over the din of the
the almost mystical names of American rafting
rapids. A number of rafting companies offer
rivers, all of which are located well west of
services on these rivers and it would be impossible
America's heartland. This popular image of rafting
to list them all. The Gauley and Ocoee, for instance,
invokes scenes of brightly colored rubber rafts
are serviced by dozens of companies. Partial listings
being tossed about on the raging, mocha roil of an
of companies follow--local Chambers of Commerce
isolated wild river in the rugged mountains and
can provide names of additional companies serving
canyon lands of Colorado, Utah, Idaho or Arizona.
the rivers. On the Ocoee, contact USA Raft, P.O.
The western states are the Mecca of whitewater
Box 277, Rowlesburg, WV 26425, (800)
rafting in this country, and the level of challenge
USA-RAFT; or Sunburst Adventures, P.O. Box
and danger offered by the many whitewater
329-B, Benton, TN 37307, (800) 247-8388. USA
hotspots out West is hard to match.
Raft also runs the New and the Gauley. Mountain
But for those of us east of the Mississippi, River Tours, Sunday Road, P.O. Box 88, Hico, WV
adrenaline-pumping rivers in the mountains of the 25854, 800-822-1386; and Appalachian Wildwaters,
Southeast produce heart-thumping rides cheaper P.O. Box 100, Rowlesburg, WV 26425,
and closer to home. While these rivers may lack 800-624-8060 run both the New and the Gauley.
the continuous, heart-stopping excitement of the Appalachian Wildwaters also runs the upper Yough,
wilder Western rivers, some advantages exist to as does Precision Rafting, P.O. Box 185,
Southeastern whitewater rivers that Western rivers Friendsville, MD 21531, (800) 4-PRE-RAF.
cannot match. There are usually no waiting lists to Chattooga trips are provided by the Nantahala
raft them, they are all within easy driving distance Outdoor Center, 13077 Highway 19 West, Bryson
of most Eastern population centers, and they are City, NC 28713, (800) 232-7238.
much cheaper to run than their Western
counterparts.
In fact, there are five excellent whitewater rivers in the Southeast all closer together than the drive
between any three of those western rivers mentioned above. It is possible to raft all five of these rivers in
one week, taking time off in between to relax and soak up the local scenery. Try that out West and see
how exhausted you are. So, if you think you have to spend a week of hard-earned vacation time and a
month's salary to run one western river, quintuple your whitewater exposure with these five southeastern
rivers-- which you can easily raft in a week--with time left for plenty of R & R. Let's start your
week-long marathon:
Sunday: Ocoee River, Tennessee. Forty-five minutes northeast of Chattanooga and just east of
Cleveland, Tenn., near Interstate 75 sits the opening act. The Ocoee is a dam-controlled river, runnable
Thursday through Monday in the summers and on weekends during the spring and fall, and the first two
weeks of October. Site of the 1996 Olympic whitewater venue, the Ocoee is a good warm- up river for
your week of whitewater.
This is a short run--only five miles, but the drops come quickly with little time to recover in between, so
be ready for almost continuous whitewater beginning with Put In rapid, just below the low dam at the
launch point. This is a long Class III rapid, a good initial baptism for your week of whitewater fun.
Broken Nose, the next rapid, comes up almost immediately, followed by Double Suck which features
two large keeper hydraulics and Double Trouble with back-to-back standing waves. Between these two
rapids is Hell's Half Mile, a stretch of continuous Class II and III whitewater. Next comes Flipper
requiring some quick maneuvering: listen to your guide for directions. The best is yet to come: Table
Saw and Diamond Splitter are both Class III to IV drops separated by less than a half mile of churning
water. The final drops, Hell Hole and Powerhouse Ledge, are still ahead. If you're not completely soaked
before Hell Hole, the standing wave is guaranteed to soak you. Jump out below the power plant on the
left bank just after the Ledge and take a swim in the pool before you haul your raft out a quarter mile
downstream.
The Ocoee initiation takes less than half a day. Grab a hot shower and head east on Highway 64 to
Bryson City, N. C., and take a look at the Nantahala River, a canoeing and kayaking hot spot for
southeastern kayakers and canoeists. Check in at the Nantahala Outdoor Center (NOC), perched between
Highway 19 and the Nantahala River, and get a room and a hot meal at Nantahala Village, part of the
NOC complex.
Monday: Nantahala River, North Carolina. OK, so the title of this article is "Five Southeast Rafting
Classics;" I'm throwing in the Nantahala as a bonus. A little too tame for rafting, the Nantahala will give
you a chance to hone your paddling skills. After watching local kayak experts negotiate Class III
Nantahala Falls, rent a kayak and give the Class II water of the Nantahala a try. Play in the water for as
long as you want, after all you're on vacation. You'll have most of the day here to practice your rolls and
surf the waves--your next stop is only a few miles down Highway 441 at Clayton, Ga. Four miles north
of Clayton, camp at one of the 12 walk-in sites at Black Rock Mountain State Park (call 800-864-PARK
for reservations). Sit around the campfire telling scary tales involving murderous moonshiners to get in
the proper mood.
Tuesday: Chattooga River, Georgia. Everybody knows the Chattooga's claim to fame: the river where
Ned Beatty squealed like a pig in Deliverance. A federally designated Wild and Scenic River, it is also
renowned for its primitive beauty. Originating in the mountains of North Carolina, the Chattooga actually
flows between South Carolina and Georgia and offers two options: Section Three with the Class IV Bull
Sluice rapids and some calm water stretches, and the more challenging seven miles of Section Four.
Don't waste your time on Section Three. The Chattooga demands a lot from you. Perhaps the most
technically challenging of the five rivers you'll raft this week, the Chattooga requires constant attention to
avoid flipping in its twisting chutes. Section Four starts off with the most dangerous rapid, Woodall
Shoals, a ledge that forms a massive keeper that can grab and hold boats and people. Below Woodall
Shoals, the river narrows into a series of steep drops and impressive rapids, leading into Seven-Foot
Falls. Seven Foot is best described as vertical and if you are not the lead raft, you will understand why as
the raft in front of you drops out of sight over the edge. As a climax, Five Falls blasts you with one Class
III and four Class IV-V rapids in a quarter-mile section before flushing you out on the other side, wet and
exhilarated. A maze of huge rocks, the Chattooga will pinball your raft from one rapid to the next. Your
tent awaits you back at Black Mountain so warm yourself by the campfire and get a good night's sleep.
Tomorrow: road trip.
Wednesday: En route to West Virginia. You had a day to rest in the Smokies and a good night's sleep, so
let's hit it. Pull on those shorts, a T-shirt and some sandals, unwrap a Moon Pie and down an RC Cola
(you're in the South remember) and head east on Highway 76 and Interstate 85 to Charlotte, N.C. At
Charlotte follow Interstate 77 north all the way to Beckley, W.Va. This six- hour drive takes you through
some of the prettiest scenery east of the Rockies, starting with the mountains and foothills of the
Piedmont region of the Carolinas. After you cross the North Carolina-Virginia border you will drive
through the Blue Ridge Mountains. When you hit West Virginia, you will find yourself in the midst of
the Appalachians. Take Highway 19 out of Beckley through the mountains to Hawk's Nest State Park
where you've made reservations at least three months in advance at the Hawk's Nest Lodge
(800-225-5982). Feed your face in the lodge's dining room and take a short evening hike on the park's
scenic trails to get the blood flowing back to your butt. Tumble into bed with a full belly and dreams of
the New River.
Thursday: New River, West Virginia. The New River offers both exciting whitewater and spectacular
scenery. This river pounds through the New River Gorge, a 1000-foot deep canyon of intensely beautiful
wilderness and the oldest river in North America. You'll get a glimpse of the New River Bridge, the
longest arch bridge in the world. If you time your trip for October's Bridge Day, you can watch
basejumpers launch from the 900-foot high bridge span. Do yourself a favor; limit your thrills to the
water. And get ready for some wild stuff: the 15-mile section of the Lower New running from Thurmond
to Fayette Station offers some of the most exciting whitewater in the East. The Lower New has five Class
IV-V runs: the Keeney's, Double Z, Greyhound Bus Stopper, Miller's Folly, and Fayette Station. This
river is a step above the two you've rafted so far and you'll know it when you hit the Keeney's, a turbulent
drop often obscured by veils of mist rising from boiling water. Churning through a narrow slot of huge
boulders, this is the longest river trip so far, with the run taking about six hours. And those are not
relaxing hours--almost constant paddling is required to run the New. The next river is just down the road
so head back to the Hawk's Nest where you can relive the day's adventures in front of the lodge's blazing
stone fireplace. Tomorrow is the headliner: the Upper Gauley.
Friday: Upper Gauley River, West Virginia. This is the one you've been waiting for, the most challenging
river of the week. This 13-mile section of the Gauley is best run for about three weeks in September and
October when the Corps of Engineers releases water from behind Summersville Lake upstream. Like the
New, the Gauley is a visual delight beginning with an unforgettably scenic backdrop as you launch your
raft. Three house-sized outlet pipes shoot horizontal flumes of water from the base of Summersville
Dam, enveloping the entire area in a continuous mist. A deep thunderous rumble accompanies the
foaming water raging below the dam. From the moment you launch your raft, you are caught in this
maelstrom. High sandstone cliffs covered with thick forest line the river nearly the whole length, lending
a feeling of wilderness isolation. But the main attraction is the water, not the scenery: six violent Class V
rapids and a generous helping of Class III and IV water make this the most awesome run yet. The first
two Class Vs, Bud's Boner and Insignificant, prep you for the even more punishing water of Pillow Rock
and Lost Paddle Rapids. Pillow plunges between truck-sized boulders and just when you think you're
through with the rapids, Volkswagen Rock waits to pound you one last time. Lost Paddle is 1,500 feet of
Class V waves. Two more big runs, Shipwreck and Iron Ring (Class IV-V), keep the adrenaline rushing
until you reach Sweet's Falls, the highlight of the trip. Sweet's drops 14 feet into a churning vortex that
usually manages to overturn rafts or eject passengers. If you make it through Sweet's, just below you will
be greeted by the Crack of Doom which will toothpaste-squeeze you through a narrow defile between
two towering rocks. Alternately, a huge boulder called Postage Stamp slams those unfortunates who
paddle just a little too far left. If you dump at Sweet's, you will have an extra measure of humiliation
added to your terror: this is a popular lunch stop and the crowd is always spoiling for a spectacular
mishap. The first sound that will reach your ears should you lose it at Sweet's will be the hooting guffaws
of the unsympathetic lunch bunch. The last Class V, Woods Ferry, provides an exciting climax to the
Upper Gauley. This is an exhausting four to five-hour run. Ride a shuttle bus back and watch yourself
getting pummeled on video.
Then head an hour north on Highway 19 and Interstate 79 and stop at Stonewall Jackson Lake State Park
where you'll camp for the night (campsites are first- come, first-served or call 800-CALLWVA for
reservations), and get ready for the climax of your trip.
Saturday: Upper Youghiogheny River, Maryland. Get up early and continue north on Interstate 79 to
Highway 48 and follow it east to Friendsville, Md. The Upper Yough is a whitewater bonanza, an
exciting river nestled in the hills of western Maryland, offering breathtaking drops through
boulder-strewn rapids. The Upper Yough offers Class IV water with a few Class Vs thrown in for good
measure. Just to give you an idea of the violent nature of the Yough's big water, the river drops an
average of 116 feet per mile, and these feet show up as precipitous drops in more than 20 Class IV and V
rapids like Meat Cleaver, National Falls, Charlie's Choice, and Tommy's Hole. The Yough offers 11
miles of powerful and careening rapids, approaching the excitement of your previous day's experience on
the Gauley.
All right, you've run five rivers in six days and driven through seven states. You've seen beautiful
scenery ranging from the pine forests of Georgia to the steep hardwood-forested mountains of Maryland,
experienced world-class whitewater, had a day for a leisurely kayak run or a hike through the Smokies,
and still have a day left to get home. You missed that expensive and cramped airplane flight, or worse
yet, a three-day drive across Kansas, and you didn't spend your next six months of car payments. So,
you'll have some bucks left over to hit some of the other great rivers of the East you missed (see Sidebar,
Rest of the Best): the Nolichucky, Russell Fork, Cheat, or Tygart. Besides all that, they don't even know
what Moon Pies are out West.
Table of Contents
Features
Letter from the Editor
Eddylines
Letters to the editor.
Hotline
Canoe hull testing in a tow tank; yet another field trip for the Adventure Quest kids; England grabs the
World Surf Kayak crown; and more!
Innuendos
by Jon Turk
After surviving an avalanche that nearly left him paralyzed, Montana's Jon Turk finds himself
reconnected on the Selway.
Paddle People
The Southwest's Ken Slight (AKA Seldom Seen Smith); and 1997 Wildwater Champion Michael
Beavers
Health
by Buck Tilton
Telltale tips for treating tendonitis
Paddle Tales
Special Shuttle Tales of Woe
ECO
A 160-year-old dam gets dismantled on the Kennebec; a mine threatens Canada's mighty Nahanni;
and more!
First Descents
A new column providing a voice for first descenders the world around. This month's descent: two
rivers in the Zimbabwean highlands of Africa!
Marketplace Review
GADGETS
A drybag for your guitar; an indoor training system for single-bladed paddlers; and a hot
meal that comes in a box--meaning no cooking or cleaning!
INTO THE WILD
Skills
How to get started in slalom
by Scott Shipley
How to build the perfect canoe trailer
by Mike McCrea
Destinations
Roughest Roads: Around Manhattan
by Joe Glickman
Inn of the Month: White Lake, Wis.'s Bear Paw Inn
Three Northwest Touring Classics:
● Alaska's Wood-Tikchik State Park
by Bill Sherwonit
● Canoeing Washington's Ross Lake
by Thomas Smith
● Sea Kayaking Barkley Sound
by D. Lowell White
Flipside
Things change with time. Rapids get rearranged, beaches lose and gain
sand, portage trails fall prey to foliage. Paralleling these changes in the
paddling world are a few changes in our publication. Rather then roll over
and rest on our literary laurels, we've decided to spice things up with the
addition of a few new departments. Our regular sections will remain the
same. But just as snowmelt breathes new life into rivers every spring,
we've decided the time is right to do the same with our magazine.
Those of you who scan the magazine for pictures will be the first to notice
our new photo department called the Flip Side. As with Gary Larsen's Far
Side workings, the Flip Side is designed to take a look at the lighter side
of paddling through photos. To be truthful, the main reason for the
department is to find a use for all the Ender contributions accumulating
dust in our photo archives. Rather then let them gather more sediment than
the Glen Canyon Dam, we've decided to give them a voice in a two-page spread complete with what we
hope are witty captions. Some of these captions might work, some of them might not. Some of you may
get our thinly veiled attempts at humor, others might see them fly over your head like a giant standing
wave.
On a more serious side is our new First Descents column, designed to give you an idea of who's doing
what in the world of whitewater. Richard Bangs of Sobek fame volunteered to author the first one, an
account of his 1996 first descent down Ethiopia's Tekeze Gorge. People are paddling new runs all the
time and this is our way of helping you keep abreast of what's being run where. We are counting on you
to contribute to this section by letting us know of your pioneering paddles, whether it's on a tiny Georgia
creek or a multi-thousand-cfs waterway in Nepal. We are also re-introducing our once-popular Health
column written by long-time contributor Buck Tilton. This month's topic is tendonitis, something that
can strike whether you're oaring a raft, paddling a sea kayak or taking your canoe out for a Sunday stroll.
The final new addition to our arsenal is the addition of an Inn of the Month section to our Destinations
department. This piece is designed to highlight a different paddling-friendly lodge each issue that caters
to canoeists, kayakers and rafters.
Of course, none of these new additions will subtract from our normal departments, which this time
around includes a special Paddle Tales section highlighting our readers' Shuttle Tales of Woe. In our
Skills department comes a piece by 1997 World Cup Slalom Champion Scott Shipley on how to get
started in slalom, as well as a how-to story by Mike McCrea on building the perfect canoe trailer. For
features you'll find a piece on what it takes to join an elite group of California sea kayakers called the
Tsunami Rangers; a story on canoeing one man's backyard in Norway; and a first-person account of
learning how--and how not--to paddle a sprint kayak. Finally comes a story entitled In the Shadow of
Quartzite, which relives the events before, during and after the bombing of the Salt River's Quartzite
Falls in Arizona. Changes in the paddling world, it seems, are indeed inevitable--whether they're a result
of Mother Nature, publishers or the Hand of Man.
--Eugene Buchanan
eddylines
Innuendos Kudos
I have been reading Paddler off and on for years. I particularly enjoy the Innuendos column written by
Chuck Weis and Eugene Buchanan. Its off-hand irreverence not only sets the tone of Paddler, but in
many ways I think it captures the mentality of the sport. I am an attorney and live and practice and kayak
in downtown Boulder, Colo. I have been paddling for about 10 years and divide my time between the
Poudre and Arkansas rivers. I have also been known to appear in court with "helmet hair" after a
lunchtime run down Boulder Creek.
--David Cleveland, Boulder, Colorado
Routine Reader
I recently did my routine, cover-to-cover read of the current issue. Always stirs the brain cells as well as
memories of canoe trips past and ones planned for the future. I enjoy both technical and humorous
articles; I have used the technical pieces as a swiftwater rescue instructor, and experience the humorous
in person as often as possible. Best wishes for continued success; look forward to every issue.
--Bob Gitchell, Camdenton, Missouri
Hotspring Hint
It was great to see Cody, Wyo.'s Shoshone River mentioned in your Hotsprings article (Dec. '97).
Unfortunately, several important points were missed. The spring you showed in the picture contains
water only when the river exceeds 1,000 cfs. Another spring, a mile upstream, is actually much better
most of the year. The three usable springs on the Shoshone are on private land--paddlers need to be
aware that there have been local access problems. Please don't aggravate an already bad situation by
failing to get permission to use them. Also, in late November part of the canyon wall collapsed, forming
a natural dam just above Pinball Rapid. At present levels, the rapid is unrunnable. Paddlers visiting the
area should be aware that old maps and guidebooks on this section are no longer correct.
--Ed Conning, Cody, Wyoming
Kona Conniption
Europeans began writing romantic nonsense about Pacific Islanders almost as soon as they first met
any--and despite several centuries of contact, they have not stopped. The statement "the freedom the
Polynesians enjoyed" in your "Kayaking Banned on Kona?" article (Oct. '97) is one more example. I
hazard a guess the author is referring to a common misconception of the Polynesians of old as Oceanic
flower children, living a life unfettered by disease, environmental incorrectness or territorial boundaries.
I do not blame you for the error; plenty of people here, including some who ought to know better,
commit it. But while it is true that land concepts among Oceanic peoples have traditionally differed from
the Euro-American idea of ownership, this does not mean that before Europeans arrived people wandered
wherever they pleased. On the contrary, habitable land masses being few and far between, those tough
enough to inhabit them guarded their territories fiercely. A stranger who showed up uninvited, or a
resident who trespassed on taboo land, would have been lucky to escape with anything so meager as a
fine; summary execution was the usual penalty. Although colonization was at best a mixed blessing, the
kayakers who got ticketed at Kona ought to be grateful that it put a stop to "the freedom the Polynesians
enjoyed" to effect such extreme punishments!
The misconception continues to cause inter-cultural problems. Although the people of Oceania are very
hospitable, this hospitality demands something of its recipient. Even in Americanized Hawaii many
people still observe the ancient protocols which forbid uninvited strangers to enter a territory. I do not
know which "archaic state law" the local Kona government invoked against kayakers, but perhaps it was
one of those based on traditional Hawaiian land rights. In more conservative communities, these
protocols are even stricter. I live on Kauai and cannot comment knowledgeably on what happened in
Kona. But some residents of our island have complained about kayakers and have suggested banning
them from certain areas. This would be too bad, both because it would bar the decent majority of
kayakers from innocent enjoyment of beautiful places, and because it would sour human relations on our
island. Education of visitors (and some locals!) in traditional manners, may prevent Kauai from going the
way of Kona. Your magazine can help with this. Surely there is enough beautiful water out there for
everyone to share.
--Heu'ionalani Wyeth, Anahola, Hawaii
Photographer Duplicate
Greetings. The June 1993 issue of Paddler has finally reached me from a tail-shirt relative who was sure
she was looking at one of my photographs on page 37. There is only one big problem. I have never been
in either North or South Carolina or anywhere near Possum Creek Falls. To add to the confusion I do
have a photograph very much like the one in your magazine (taken of Wildcat Cascades in Yosemite
National Park). Furthermore, I have a first cousin named Paul Beard who lives in Maryland. To my
knowledge he is not an outdoor photographer. Would I be asking too much for the address of the Paul
Beard who took your photo of Possum Creek Falls? I would like to write him to invite him to stop by and
visit me if he is ever in California. I would appreciate your help. Incidentally I am 75, a retired teacher,
who does sell wildlife and outdoor photos. Rearing caterpillars into adult butterflies has been one of my
hobbies for over 60 years.
--Paul W. Beard, Mariposa, California
Simulator Seeker
I enjoy reading Paddler magazine. In the months when it's more difficult to kayak due to weather, what
indoor equipment to simulate kayaking is available? What I'm asking is to see an article on indoor
training equipment for paddlers and exercises to do. I would be open to correspondences and addresses to
direct me in seeking information.
--Tom Spirito, Middlebury, Indiana
--Look no farther than the Gadgets section of this issue. --Eds
Shame on Savage...Again
I find your ad on page 74 (Savage Design) of your October issue to be in extremely bad taste. The ad not
only degrades women, but it is such a turn-off for this product I would never think of buying anything
from Savage Design. As an ACA member and certified canoe instructor, I question your bottom line
ethics. Are you so desperate for the advertising dollar that you will print anything?
--Susan Patterson
--If you saw the ad they ran in February 1995, you would note that they have toned things
down a little. And this time they made sure their gold-painted model was a male...a
"gentleman" named Perry Parker. --Eds
Hotline
innuendos
eco
Wilderness Society
Bestows Murie Award
Who says good deeds go unnoticed? Certainly not the
Washington, D.C.-based Wilderness Society, which
recently awarded its Olaus and Margaret Murie
Award to St. Paul, Minn.'s Maggie Wille for her role
in protecting Minnesota's Boundary Waters Canoe
Area. First given in 1988, this award is given
annually to unsung heroes of the environmental
movement who have shown dedication to protecting
the nation's natural heritage. "I consider it a privilege
to know and work with Maggie Wille," says
Wilderness Society Vice President Darrell Knuffke.
"She has never wavered in her commitment to help
preserve the Boundary Waters." Wille, an
occupational therapist and wellness counselor, has
participated in more than a dozen Boundary Waters
wilderness adventures in the last 11 years. The Murie
Award is named for Olaus and Margaret Murie,
major figures in the American conservation
movement. Olaus, who passed away in 1963, was a
federal biologist and founder of the Wilderness
Society. Margaret, known as "the matriarch of the
American conservation movement," is the author of
three conservation books and played a prominent role
in the passage of The Wilderness and Alaska Lands
acts.
--ahb
marketplace review
Combo Duffels
Wet/Dry Carry-Alls for the New Millenium
by Aaron Bible
Even if you have your name on
all your gear, it gets expensive Other Bomber
if you leave booties and pogies
scattered around in every
Duffels
shuttle vehicle you happen to
ride in. And you won't get Salamander's Square
invited on many river trips if Spot
you can't organize your
personal gear into something Leave it to Bend, Ore.'s
other than a jumbled-up pile of Salamander to put a twist in the
apparel. usual gear bag. The Square Spot
borrows from climbers' rope
Conventional duffels won't bags--just pile everything on top
solve these of it and cinch it up. It also serves
problems--mildewed gear will as a changing platform. The top
not get you invited into zips closed, and the sides cinch
people's cars. Because of this, closed. It features webbing
most paddlers have turned to handles on the outside, and a
bags made from mesh, which small interior mesh pocket for
lets gear breathe and dry. The sunscreen and keys. The Square
only problem with mesh is that Spot ($34.50) is 14" by 41" in the
it's also permeable to dirt and water, and it's not the toughest material closed position and comes in
on the market. If the mesh bags at your local Wal-Mart aren't good black with red accents. Info.:
enough, or your mom won't let you take your laundry bag out on the (541) 388-1821.
river, following are a few bags that will keep your gear in order--and
out of odor. Not only will your gear be breathing and in one place, Cascade Designs'
but many of these bags also offer dry storage, for post-paddle fleece,
shorts, towels and baseball caps. These are the Rolls Royce's of PuddleDeep Duffels
paddlegear bags--they may not make you a better paddler, but they
Seattle, Wash.'s Cascade Designs,
will make your paddling life a little easier, and your lost gear factor a
makers of Therm-A-Rest,
little lower.
Platypus hydration systems and
SealLine drybags, offers two
Lochsa Connection's Combo Sport Bags noteworthy duffels for paddler.
Kooskia, Idaho's Lochsa Connection knows how to get you and your First is the PuddleDeep Duffel,
gear to the river in tact. It manufactures the Small Combination Bag made with a waterproof,
($30; 1,102 cu. in.) and the Large Combination Bag ($41.50; 1,658 34-ounce PVC bottom (SealLine
cu. in.), both with tough mesh on top and waterproof packcloth on the dry bag material), 20-ounce PVC
bottom to keep out dirt, sand and water. The Small has a zippered, sides and a urethane-coated,
waterproof pocket on one end and nylon hand-carry straps; the Large Ripstop Cordura nylon top. The
features zippered, waterproof pockets on both ends, D-rings and an bottom and sides are completely
adjustable carrying strap. Both are tough enough to take the abuse waterproof with welded,
that comes from gearing up in all kinds of weather. Info.: (208) permanently bonded seams. With
926-0921. this Duffel, you can leave dry
gear in the bottom of a canoe or
puddle with no worries. It
Perception's Wet/Dry Bag features hand straps, a removable
The Wet/Dry Bag from Easley, S.C.'s Perception includes what many shoulder strap and beefy, welded
other bags don't: an innovative, flip-down, removable changing mat, haul straps on the ends. It's
which it says can also be used to cover the car seat during a wet available in black only in 30-liter
shuttle drive home. But that's not all the bag has going for it. The ($57), 85-liter ($70), and 150-liter
Wet/Dry Bag is made from coated pack cloth and stows wet and dry ($84) models. The company's
gear, in any amount, by separating two compartments with a floating PuddleDeep Mesh is for wet gear
baffle. New last year, it includes a shoulder strap, comes in small storage. You can stand in it and
($87.50) and large ($100) sizes, and is available in black and royal shed all your wet gear--it will air
blue. Info.: (864) 859-7518. out through the mesh top while
the waterproof bottom (20-oz.
PVC) keeps the wetness
Northwest River Supply's Canyon Duffel contained. When you get home,
NRS offers protection and breathable storage with its Small ($64.95; hose the bag out and let it air dry.
13"x32") and Large ($79.95; 16"x37") Canyon Duffel. These are big, It has the same welded seams as
beefy bags, made from reinforced Cordura, with mesh panels the duffel, and handle strap
"strategically" placed for mildew avoidance. But it's definitely more patches are welded to the mesh to
Cordura than mesh. The main compartment, opened with a prevent rip-outs. The Mesh
double-zipper, features an adjustable baffle for separating wet and Duffel comes in an 85-liter ($39)
dry gear. It also includes a separate side-pocket for booties and two and a 130-liter model ($47). Info.:
spacious end pockets, as well as hand straps and a two-inch, nylon (800) 531-9531.
adjustable shoulder strap. Info.: (800) 635-5202.
Primex Deluge Tote
Stohlquist WaterWare's WDG Bag Bags and Changer
The WDG--Wet-Dry-Gross--duffel bag has all the features that make We couldn't leave these tough
these bags the ultimate in paddlegear storage: a large, dry, end paddlesports bags from Benicia,
pocket; a main compartment with a mesh panel; another dry, side Calif.'s Primex out of the duffel
pocket; and another small mesh pocket. Plus, the whole thing is made lineup. Primex offers three
from "super-duty" waterproof fabric similar to dry bag material, with versions of a gear tote bag
heavy-duty nylon stitching and zippers. The WDG features flat web (16"x15"x6"), all featuring top
carry handles and a removable shoulder strap. It allows you to carry zippers and tubing-reinforced
all the dry clothes you want and keep dirty booties--and other gross handles, suited for transporting
items--separate from your favorite drytop. It's available in extra large gear and personals to and from
($69.95, 16"x32") and in black with blue and purple trim. Info.: (888) paddling excursions. The Tote
265-2925. Bag is available in a water
resistant, 600-denier polyester
Planetary Gear's Banshee Wet/Dry Duffel (royal or black, $19); a see-
through nylon mesh with PVC
This Boulder, Colo.-based paddlesport accessory company stands up bottom (black, $17); and in PVC
to its larger competitors with unique designs and quality with a nylon re-enforcement grid
workmanship. The Banshee Wet/Dry Duffel ($40; 16"x33") is no (clear, $18). Also from Primex is
exception. It's not the fanciest of the bunch, but it gets the job done The Changer (black, $28), a
with no complaints and the price is right. Unlike a few of the others, handy, stand-in duffel for
this one is mostly mesh--actually two-thirds wet and one-third dry. It shedding wet gear out of the dirt
features beefy nylon straps and stitching, a solid bottom, and a and sand. At 24"x30" laid flat,
waterproof end-pocket for dry gear. These guys are paddlers, and hop on this changing platform,
didn't waste time and effort on too many bells and whistles. It's kick off your booties and shake
available in black, blue or purple. Info.: (800) 641-0500. off your other gear, and then
cinch it all up with the
Patagonia's Wet/Dry Gear Bag drawstrings into a nylon/mesh
duffel and gear storage bag. It
Ventura, Calif.'s Patagonia describes its duffels as, "ideal for people comes with a shoulder strap on
who can't stay away from the water." Without looking at the label, the back (bottom) to sling it over
you might think this is a bag from Hermes or Coachman, not a your shoulder. Info.: (800)
paddlesports company. But look a little closer--it's Patagonia alright. 422-2482.
This wet/dry combo is built tough and functional like a big-wall haul
bag for climbing, yet it is as stylish as a piece of international luggage. Yes it has the standard mesh
side--double- knit, industrial strength mesh in good proportion. Combined with this, however, is the dry
side made of Tarmac--an 18-ounce, waterproof, vinyl-coated nylon fabric. Inside is a waterproof baffle
(420-denier, nylon packcloth) that flips back and forth (floating) to separate different amounts of wet and
dry. The straps are made of 6,000-lb.-test seatbelt webbing and adjust to allow paddlers to carry the bag
by hand or like a backpack. It also features haul loops at each end. The frills don't end there. There's also
an inner mesh hanging pocket; double zippers with nickel plated, lockable sliders; and seams bound and
nylon-taped to military specs. The guarantee is Patagonia's standard guarantee for life. It comes in a
Large ($145; 7,650 cu. in.), Medium ($135; 6,048 cu. in.), and Small ($125; 3,588 cu. in.). Patagonia
also makes a Mini Wet/Dry Gear Bag ($62; 1,485 cu. in.), as well as a Wet/Dry Pack ($98; 1,848 cu. in.)
and an Aqua Pack fanny pack ($50; 144 cu. in.). Info.: (800) 638-6464.
marketplace review
marketplace review
Skirts:
The Mountain Surf Monster Key Hole and/or Large Key Hole K-1 skirt fits all of the boats tested except
the Whip It. With the Whip It, I use a Perception Harmony C-1 skirt. The further forward you're trimmed
in your boat, the more you may need a custom skirt with a centered chimney. Mountain Surf
(301-746-5389) and WildWasser Sport USA (303-444-2375) will do custom work.
The Tests:
Pyranha Acrobat 270
Dagger RPM
Length: 9'
Width: 24.5"
Weight: 37 lbs.
Volume: 60 gallons
Distance from inside cockpit rim to back of saddle as tested: 8"
Stability: Very good primary and secondary stability, which seems to be a function of the larger cockpit
volume, plus greater than normal width as compared to length and the flatness of the hull. Actually, the
hull provides three large usable flat surfaces--one directly under your butt and one on each side of the
cockpit. The stability of the RPM was a huge surprise.
Hull speed: The RPM has a planing hull. Initially, you have to get this boat moving against a fair
amount of resistance, then once it begins to plane on top of the water, it moves with surprising speed.
Comfort: Not great. The cockpit rim pressed uncomfortably on top of my thighs.
Surfing: Surfs all waves like a dream, never pearls, and cuts back and forth automatically. The RPM has
a sharp edge at the seam just behind the cockpit all the way to the stern point which causes the stern to
slice into the wave face, where it acts like a fin on a surfboard giving the boat a directional stability that's
incredibly predictable.
Waves on the fly: Fine, especially if there's a foam pile.
Squirting: Stern squirts easily with good control because you can bounce off the large cockpit volume. It
even blasts pretty well.
General: I find it a great river running boat, because it surfs and plays so well; if it were only more
comfortable.
Info.: Dagger Canoe Co. (423) 882-0404
Prijon Rockit
Length: 9'5"
Width: 26"
Weight: 40 lbs.
Volume: 72 gallons
Distance from inside cockpit rim to back of saddle as tested: 4"
Stability: Excellent primary and secondary stability.
Hull Speed: Slow. This boat was not designed for speed or tracking. It was designed to spin on a dime.
Almost no boat on the market has this much rocker.
Comfort: Very comfortable. This baby has lots of room.
Surfing: Surfs great and back-surfs as well as it front-surfs. It doesn't carve well because of its
full-bodied figure, but for a surface boat it reacts pretty well to hip movements.
Waves on the fly: Poor, because it's too slow.
Squirting: Nope, this is a pure surface boat.
General: This boat is great fun in medium to large holes. It'll do 360s almost automatically and it'll do
out-of-water enders until you just can't ender anymore. At 26 inches, it is one of the widest K-1s on the
market. The hull is shaped like a Hurricane, except larger; think of it as a Hurricane on steroids-or think
of it as a K-1 that makes a stable, comfortable, very rockered, very short C-1. And it's a dry boat--over
big drops you barely get your spray skirt wet. If you're fairly light, it may make a good creek boat.
Info.: Prijon/WildWasser Sport USA (303) 444-2336
Perception Whip - It
Length: 8'11"
Width: 24.5"
Weight: 40 lbs.
Volume: 56 gallons
Distance from inside cockpit rim to back of saddle as tested: 7"
Stability: Excellent primary and secondary.
Hull Speed: The hull is very flat, so once it begins to plane out it moves with surprising speed
considering how short it is.
Comfort: Very comfy with lots of leg room.
Surfing: Surfs all waves extremely well. The hard chine on the hull is a precise directional tool,
especially when you give it some hip. In fact, this boat reacts to hip movement more precisely than any
boat tested. For some paddlers, it may react too quickly and seem twitchy, but for those that like spot-on,
hip-to-boat energy transfer, the Whip-It is a dream come true.
Waves on the fly: Fine, especially if there's a foam pile.
Squirting: Stern squirts fairly easily, especially in a good squeeze. Has good control once it's up,
especially if you keep the boat spinning.
General: This is an excellent all around boat for river running, surfing, enders, squirting and vertical and
horizontal freestyle hole playing. It changes direction on a flat spin in current with a flick of the paddle.
It's stable even in big water and it's comfortable to kneel in. Damn hard to beat.
Info.: Perception Inc. (800) 262-0268
Length: 8'11"
Width: 25.25"
Weight: 39 lbs.
Volume: 60 gallons
Distance from inside cockpit rim to back of saddle as tested: 5"
Stability: Excellent primary and secondary stability.
Hull Speed: Similar hull speed as the Whip-It, and it has an even flatter hull. Once it planes out it can
really haul, especially for such a short boat.
Comfort: Super comfy. It's 12.75" deep. The thing's a couch.
Surfing: Surfs all waves (large, small, steep, flat) extremely well. The sharp secondary chine under hull
allows for mid-boat carves, while the stern chine makes for crisp, precise cutbacks.
Waves on the fly: Not so good on flat waves. Much better if there's a foam pile and/or if the wave has
steepness.
Squirting: Stern squirts are a cinch and, once she's up, the hang-time is precise and controllable, with or
without a spin.
General: Imagine, a short, deep, comfortable, stable boat that slices and dices and cuts. Plus, the
Godzilla makes a good all-purpose river runner and she stern squirts like a banshee! Vertical cartwheels
in my favorite rodeo hole were almost too easy.
Info.: Wave Sport Inc. (970) 736-0080
marketplace review
Prijon's Rockit
Steep Creekin' Euro Style
Prijon came out with two new boats last year: Rockit Specs
the Fly, a rodeo/playboat; and the Rockit, a
Weight: 40 lbs.
creek/hairboat. Landis Arnold at Boulder,
Colo.'s Prijon/WildWasser Sport USA touted Length: 9'2"
Prijon's new creek boat for over a year, so I Width: 26"
was excited to finally get my hands on a
Volume: 68 gal.
brand-new Rockit. When I first picked up the
boat I was immediately struck by its size--it Price: $859
appeared to be a good foot shorter than any of Turn on: Steep, tight,
the other boats stacked around it. I was a little low-volume creeks.
nervous that I would not be able to squeeze Turn offs: Rodeos and hanging
my six-foot, 190-lb. frame into the cockpit, out with the short, low-volume
so I was pleasantly surprised to find that I crowd.
actually fit quite well. With a little help and an Allen wrench
conveniently stowed in the back strap, I was able to adjust the hip Other: The Rockit has a "VI"
pads and thigh hooks in about three minutes. The hip pads use a new dock to add strength and provide
system: two bolts, once loosened, allow one bolt to adjust the hip predictable resurfacing
pads in and out. This proves to be a convenient feature if the boat is characteristics, and a "hip
used by more than one person or if you find yourself needing a little transition" rocker to help boofing
more room when you break the boat out for the first run of the without seriously decreasing hull
season. Sitting on the floor, the Rockit looks like Prijon bred a speed. The hull is a fairly flat
Hurricane to a T-Canyon, and then sold it before it had time to grow planing hull, which adds to the
up. Having paddled both the Hurricane and the T-Canyon, I was unexpectedly high speed from
interested to see what characteristics of each would come out in the such a short boat.
Rockit. Info: (303) 444-2336
My first run came that afternoon on a local creek overflowing its banks with the melt from a record snow
pack. I started out by catching a few eddies just to get the feel of the boat and was immediately glad we
decided not to put in higher-up on the Class V section. Having not paddled a boat this short before, I
could tell there would be a bit of a learning curve before I was ready to explore the outer limits of the
boat's performance envelope. I, tentatively at first, then more boldly, started dropping into holes. I found
the Rockit to be stable and predictable once I got a feel for where the boat liked to be. In some holes I
was able to easily spin and surf. In others I felt like I was glued to the bottom of the river. The volume
the Rockit carries in the front prevents the boat from pearling on steep waves while front surfing but also
made it difficult for me to initiate moves requiring either the bow or stern to go beneath the surface. This
is academic, however, because Prijon never intended the Rockit to be a rodeo boat. I think most boaters
will find the Rockit plays adequately to keep them entertained on their way down their favorite
steep-creek run.
The Rockit will tame gnarl and may very well take you places you find yourself wishing you hadn't
gotten to. For the expert paddler with a quiver of boats, I think that when you head off to do a steep,
low-volume run you will consistently grab your Rockit. For the aspiring creeker the Rockit is a great
learning platform; but be careful it does not lure you in over your head--there is more to creek boating
than just having the perfect tool.
--Steve Conlin
skills
Making Gates
Once the wires are hung you have to makes gates. Gates are essentially three parts: the 1X4 cross bar that
is a little wider than 1.2 meters (the minimum gate width); and two poles that can be of varied length
depending on supplies. For the two poles I often buy the longest length 1X2s I can find at the lumber
yard and cut them into three sections, yielding poles between three and four feet long. The gates are put
together by first tying strings from the crossbar to the poles. Usually this is done by drilling holes in the
crossbar and tying off one end of the string through the holes.
The other end is tied around one end of the gate pole. Each gate pole needs to have two nails hammered
halfway into one end of the pole. This way when the gate string is tied around the pole below the nails it
keeps the string from sliding off the end of the pole and allows the gate to be raised and lowered by
winding the pole up and down.
Practicing Moves
Go out as soon as you can and try a few moves in the gates. Try to figure out the fastest way to do a few
moves by taking times on your wristwatch. Most athletes on the team will spend three to four workouts a
week just doing 30-second gate pieces against the clock. This is a great way to focus on paddling
technique without having to be fit enough to repeatedly crank out high effort runs. If you can, get some
friends to come out and paddle with you. Having someone to train with can make the workout more
interesting and more competitive. If you paddle with a club, put a note in the monthly bulletin that you
have erected a course and plan to paddle at certain times. This can be a great way to meet people who
have the same interests and may be willing to help you hang more gates. Most of all, of course, just try
and have fun.
--Scott Shipley is a three-time World Cup Whitewater Slalom Champion, with his most
recent title coming in 1997.
Table of Contents
Features
Letter from the Editor
Eddylines
Letters to the editor.
Hotline
Kayaking goes pro; canoe hull testing in a naval tow tank; a paddling program for developmentally
challenged children; and more!
Innuendos
by Eugene Buchanan
Although wearing contacts while kayaking might help you better see surf, it also means putting up
with a daily ritual of rubbing sand, soot and other river grime into your eyes.
Paddle People
Settling down with adventurer Piotr Chiemilinski; and outrigger canoe racing with New England's
Conard Blake.
Paddle Tales
Special Shuttle Tales of Woe
ECO
The ACA plays hardball to enforce the Clean Water Act; a reclaimed sewer channel reveals a new
urban canoe route in Chicago; the British Columbia Marine Trail; and more!
Frames
Best Pig Boat Photo Contest Winners!
Marketplace Review
Special 1998 Buyer's Guide!
Boats, boats and more boats. A complete listing of canoes, kayaks, rafts and sit-on-tops from the
world's leading paddlesports manufacturers. Plus, a look at where to find PFDs and paddles to go
along with them.
Skills
How to use hand paddles to "feel" your way down a river
by Mark Schuette
How to move around in your canoe
by Mark Molina
Destinations
Two Unconventional Touring Trips on the Lower Colorado:
● Sea Kayaking the Colorado River Delta
by Ed Darack
● Touring the Grand Canyon
by Roger Schumann
Roughest Roads: Competing in the U.S. Marathon Kayak Team Trials
by Joe Glickman
Playspots come in all shapes and sizes. Some are so small you can barely see where the hole meets your
hull, others are so big that your adrenal glands often add to the river's cfs. The best ones, of course, are
usually somewhere in between and have eddies that deliver you right back to the gate like an escalator at
an airport. A natural downside of these holes is that you often have to wait to get worked. But there's a
reason you find other paddlers at them. They're usually user-friendly, open up the doors to a host of
moves and are well worth the effort it takes to reach them.
Paying tribute to some of these holes is this issue's cover story on the Nation's Top Playspots. We've
been in a lot of them ourselves and can attest to their authenticity (through water-clogged nasal passages,
of course). To solidify the list, however, we picked the brains of top-notch rodeo paddlers throughout the
country. Although some were hesitant to reveal their favorite spots--for fear of potential eddy lines--we
managed to bribe and cajole them into sharing their secret stashes. (We promised noseplugs, profiles on
their mothers, leftover issues from 1989 and more.) The result is what you see before you: a list of places
where you can cartwheel until the cows come home and spin until your equilibrium equals that of a
figure skater. Each listing also comes with such pertinent sidebar information as post-paddle hangouts
where you can replenish lost carbs, and stickiness and screw-up factors so you know what to expect
before getting wet. In our bribing, we also managed to get a few pros to share their favorite spots in a
sidebar on Pro's Picks (just let them ahead in line).
Of course, when going to these playspots you'll probably want to paddle the best boat possible. Luckily,
this issue also happens to include just the resource for finding such a thing: our 1998 Buyer's Guide, a
complete listing of canoes, kayaks, rafts and sit-on-tops made by the leading manufacturers in the
industry. The tech-weenies among you will notice that we've reverted back to a format we began long
ago in which each company's boats are listed with all of their appropriate specifications. This means that
you can now compare everything from hull lengths to materials, whether you're sitting on your couch or
driving shuttle to your favorite run. You'll also find a listing of places to find PFDs and paddles once
you've settled on your new boat. The listing is so complete, in fact, that you'll even find canoes made by
75-year-old Verlen Kruger, who is profiled in our feature section and who has paddled his boats more
than 80,000 miles, including a 28,000-mile trip across North America. One can only assume he was too
busy to play in any of our nation's top playspots along the way.
--Eugene Buchanan
eddylines
Unplugged Unaccredited
I was excited to see the "Glen Canyon--Unplugged?" story by Rhonda Claridge in August's Eco section,
as what appears at first glance to be a radical idea is actually based on sound scientific and environmental
precepts. And David Brower, the obvious choice for espousing the idea, is joined by other less
well-known but formidable river advocates at the Glen Canyon Institute--the organization advocating the
decommission of Glen Canyon Dam. Unfortunately, the Institute was not mentioned in Ms. Claridge's
article. For those of us who might share the vision of a natural river ecosystem, of alternative and less
harmful energy policies, of habitat restoration, and less wasteful water practices, please consider helping
the Glen Canyon Institute in its mission. Although Mr. Brower makes for better reading, the Glen
Canyon Institute will make for better results. For more information, contact them at 476 East South
Temple, #154, Salt Lake City, Utah 84111.
--Tim Thomas, Durango, Colorado
Bangs Pangs
Regarding Richard Bangs' article on the Potomac River (Aug. '97): Has Mr. Bangs been paddling the
rivers of the world so long that he has forgotten the specifics of the waters he supposedly paddled as a
child? As a past resident of the D.C. area, and a past lead raft guide in the Harpers Ferry area, I found a
great many discrepancies in his article that could lead to misinformation for those using the article as a
guide. If Mr. Bangs' article was meant to be a piece of pulp fiction, he is to be congratulated for he
succeeded in writing a good piece. But you have misled your readers in not letting them know it was
fiction. Misinformation in the hands of the ill-informed can have serious consequences. By the way, Mr.
Bangs, Bull Falls is on the Shenandoah River; and as for the hour portage around them, give me a break.
You, I, and most anyone else can walk from the commercial put-in on Bloomery Road all the way to
Harpers Ferry in an hour.
--William Goldstick, North Miami, Florida
Shuttle Rebuttal I found your description of the drive to Pittsburgh Landing in Hell's Canyon of the
Snake to be a gross exaggeration. Perhaps the exaggeration is necessary to sell magazines, but it is a
disservice to people who need accurate information for planning purposes. I have been over that road
many times over the last 25 years. Not once have I found it so bad that I would hesitate to drive my new
Cadillac on it. If you must exaggerate, please label it fiction.
--Walt Gray, Walt.Gray@pnl.gov
-- Contributor Jeff Bennett swears by the dings on his oilpan. --Eds
Boating Book
Regarding the "A Complete Rundown of Instructional Paddling Books" article by Jeff Bennett and Bill
Cross (Aug. '97): A most enjoyable piece which is, however, grossly incomplete. They neglected to
include Catch Every Eddy...Surf Every Wave by Tom Foster and Kel Kelly. This book should be
considered vade mecum for any beginning paddler. It is without peer in terms of clarity of description
and simplicity of diagram. Foster and Kelly have written the superior work emphasizing correct
technique.
--Mark Nawrocki, Andover, Massachusetts
Blowing Smoke
I am surprised and dismayed that a magazine devoted to healthy outdoor activities and some level of
cardiovascular effort would be involved with the "Camel" International Whitewater Challenge, much less
permit it to be an advertisement for the cigarette by featuring a raft plastered with cigarette advertising
material on its cover. There are certainly an adequate number of events involving canoeing, kayaking and
rafting which don't depend on a business involved in the destruction of health. I think your coverage is
inconsistent with the sports and activities you promote. I hope I can look forward to an editorial in which
you agree not to support such events in the future or my subscription will be a short one.
--Bernard Friel, Mendota Heights, Minnesota
Grand Plans
I'm astonished that there has been no mention of the Colorado River Management Plan (CRMP)
meetings. The re-working of the CRMP for the Grand Canyon is one of the most important issues ever
for many private boaters. No matter what personal opinions the editorial staff may have about the
importance of the meetings, this is news in paddling circles, and your omission is a poor business
decision. A disappointed subscriber...
--Jo Johnson, Boulder, Colorado
The New River Gorge in West Virginia isn't new to playboaters. When it's running 4.5 feet or so, one of
the best playholes in the East shows itself right at the put-in parking lot, drawing local video boaters and
guides to it like barflies to a happy hour. The Upper Railroad hole lets you cartwheel 'til you puke, and is
a favorite among locals for its steep wave on the left that throws you quckly back into the hole. This lets
you catch air normally reserved for surfboards performing cutbacks in the ocean.
When the water's too low for Upper Railroad, head downstream to Ender Wave, which kicks in at six
inches to 1.5 feet on the Fayette Station gauge. It's located right next to an eddy for escalator service back
upstream, and has a 360-degree spin hole right above it that lets you spin before landing in the hole.
Perhaps the best thing about both of these holes is that you don't need a shuttle driver. For Upper
Railroad, simply park at the put-in. For Ender Wave, locals usually paddle down the mile and a half and
then paddle and portage their way back up
Hole Hints:
Run/Class: New River Gorge/Class III-IV
Post Paddle Hangout: Same as after a day on the Gauley: Head to Fayetteville.
Best Place to Buy Noseplugs: Pick them up in Fayetteville before you start playing.
Stickiness Factor: Both can be quite retentive--especially if you try to get out on the left at Upper
Railroad.
Optimal Water Level: Ender Wave: six inches to 1.5 feet at the Fayette Station guage. Upper Railroad:
3.5 feet to 6 feet (ideal is 4.5 feet).
Water Level Window: Varies throughout year depending on rain. Look for Upper Railroad to hit 4.5
feet during the spring.
Screw-up Factor: Hitting bottom in Upper Railroad can separate ribs and shoulders. Swim left (carrying
your detached shoulders) and you'll be fine.
Locals Tip: Hit Upper Railroad before 5 p.m.--that's when the video boaters arrive for their daily fix.
And drop into it from the top the first few times before trying to ferry over.
--edb
Santa Rita
Animas River, Durango, Colorado
The Santa Rita hole on Durango, Colo.'s Animas River is somewhat of an anomaly: In the spring, it
usually doesn't show up until the river hits 2,000 cfs or so; but as the river drops during the course of the
summer, the hole keeps its shape down to as little as 500 cfs. "It's kind of weird," says Perception rep
Andy Corra of Durango. "It has to push the silt out or something on the way up, and once it has
momentum, it stays a hole on the way down."
Located towards the end of Durango's Class II-III town run, below the Hwy. 550 bridge, Santa Rita is
best accessed from an eddy on river right (you can also get to it from behind one of the bridge pylons).
Most people put in upstream at Whitewater Park, and paddle and play the Smelter section before
reaching Santa Rita. The best take-out is about a half-mile below the hole at Four Corners River Sports,
which also lets you surf the Sawmill and Big Kahuna waves after getting trashed in Santa Rita. If you
show up at the hole after a work day, expect to see a few other folks in the eddy waiting in line, and a
few spectators lining the bank to watch the carnage. Also expect the crowd to be tough to please. The
hole has been the rodeo site for the Animas River Days festival every year since 1982, is a regular venue
for the National Organization of Whitewater Rodeos and it hosted the U.S. Rodeo Team Trials in 1994.
Although top rodeo paddlers know its intricasies well, newcomers might have a harder time. The hole is
formed from a long, sloping rock shelf immediately upstream, and many a bow has been dented from the
rock at low levels. Because of this, it's not the best cartwheel hole unless you know exactly where to
plunge in. Vertical maneuvers are possible at higher levels, but you can still hit the rock if you line up in
the center. Setting up for moves is further thwarted by a large sloped ramp of Santa Rita froth. Still, the
hole is there for the playing at virtually any level and affords a dose of big water hole-riding at flows
above 5,500 cfs. "I've never seen it wash out," says Corra, one of many paddlers you're likely to
encounter there on summer afternoons. "It just keeps getting bigger and bigger."
Hole Hints:
Run/Class: Durango Town Run; Class II-III
Post Paddle Hangout: Gazpacho's (frozen margaritas); Steamworks Brewery (Lizardhead Red).
Best Place to Buy Noseplugs: Four Corners River Sports.
Stickiness Factor: Easy to exit--if you know how to move your boat.
Optimal Water Level: 3,000-5,000 cfs.
Water Level Window: Early to mid-May through July (sometimes August), depending on flows.
Screw-up Factor: No downstream rocks--just a big wave train.
Locals Tip: If you flip upstream, tuck tight; a lot of upstream bracers come up without a blade.
--edb
"You can multi-point there to your heart's content," says kayaker Steve Conlin, who lives a few miles
downstream of the Derby Creek/Burns playhole on the Colorado River. "The problem is you often don't
want to."
That pretty much sums up what some boaters are calling the hottest new playhole in Colorado. Located
on the Colorado River on County Road 301 (about 100 yards upstream from the confluence of Derby
Creek at Burns, Colo.), the hole is a cartwheeler's dream. As with all things too good to be true, however,
it doesn't come without its price. "It's definitely not a beginner's site," says Chan Zwanzig, owner of
Wave Sports, a kayak manufacturer in nearby Steamboat Springs. The main reason is a rock island
located just below the hole, giving those who wash out upside-down one roll attempt before testing their
helmets. (In its early days it had even more dire consequences--a raft frame, which is now gone, was
stuck on the island).On the bright side, those intimidated by its consequences can head to a cartwheel
pourover a few yards downstream on river left.
The Class III rapid housing the hole was created 20 years ago when a landslide filled the river with
assorted Colorado debris. The hole wasn't noticed by rodeo paddlers until September 1995 when a
contingent of Team Wave Sport boaters drove past and saw that the rapid had changed; runoff from the
year's heavy snowpack had cleaned-out the debris, bringing the hole to life. It didn't take long for
playboaters to see the hole's potential, and by August 1996 the hole hosted its first informal rodeo. In
1997 it hosted the Western U.S. Rodeo Team Trials, as well as a second informal rodeo two weeks later.
"It's the best hole in Colorado--and one of the best in the U.S.," maintains Zwanzig, who makes the
one-hour journey from his factory to the hole regularly. "It's not playing host to the team trials for any
other reason than it's good. Plus, it always has water."
Hole Hints:
Run/Class: Lower Colorado (below State Bridge); Class II-III
Post Paddle Hangout: State Bridge bar and restaurant (juke box, pool table and Sunday night bands).
Best Place to Buy Noseplugs: Colorado Canoe and Kayak, Glenwood Springs, Colo.; Backdoor Sports,
Steamboat Springs, Colo.
Stickiness Factor: Like bubble gum dipped in honey and then covered with molasses--as sticky as holes
get.
Optimal Water Level: 800-1,600 cfs (above that, see Stickiness Factor-or head to the more
user-friendly hole just downstream)
Water Level Window: Thaw to freeze (Early April to November).
Screw-up Factor: Enough time for one roll attempt before washing into a pile of rocks (Pablo Perez, the
winner of the 1997 West Coast Rodeo team trials, swam there after his winning run).
Locals Tip: Don't paddle it alone--even the top rodeo dogs show up with someone else in case of a
mishap.
--edb
Bob's Hole
Clackamas River, Oregon
If a playhole can be diagnosed as schizophrenic, Bob's Hole on Oregon's Clackamas River is the perfect
candidate. In February 1996, a 60,000-cfs flood careened down the Clackamas, filling a mainstay on the
NOWR circuit with enough silt and debris to turn the hole into relative flatwater. The hole disappeared,
and NOWR had to cancel its Northwest flagship event. In December 1996, however, another flood
washed everything out again, causing Bob's Hole--named after 77-year-old retired businessman Bob
Breitenstein--to once again emerge from the depths. "It seems identical to what it used to be," says Dave
Slover, a Bob's Hole regular and owner of All Star Rafting and Kayaking in nearby Maupin, Ore.
"People are going there pretty regularly again."
For good reason. Located 13 miles above the town of Estacada on Hwy. 224, Bob's Hole is a playboater's
dream, combining a meaty hydraulic with an easily accessible eddy on river left. These two features led
to the founding of the Bob's Hole Rodeo, held every year since 1982 (except the past two due to
flooding). Most people park right at the hole and jump headfirst into cartwheels. Others park about a
half-mile upstream for a quick surf in Toilet Bowl Rapid before hitting Bob's. Wherever you start, expect
to see up to 15 people ahead of you in the eddy on the average spring Saturday. If the line is too long,
head downstream on river right to Joe Bob's Hole, which doesn't pack quite the punch of its older brother
but can still doll out a solid thrashing. The downside to these playspots are that cold water and air
temperatures come hand-in-hand with hole rides. "It's the best playhole in the West," maintains Slover,
"but I've seen a lot of guys move out here from the Southeast to play in the hole all winter, only to see
them leave after two weeks. To play in Bob's, you have to be hearty--and enjoy ice-cream headaches."
Hole Hints:
Run/Class: Three Links Powerstation to North Fork Reservoir; Class III-IV
Post Paddle Hangout: Cazadero Inn (where you can watch hoops), and Taco Time (get the vegie
burrito), both in nearby Estacada.
Best Place to Buy Noseplugs: Alder Creek Canoe & Kayak Supply.
Stickiness Factor: Trashing factor rises significantly under 1,800 cfs, enough so "100-lb. paddlers get
recirculated with their boats."
Optimal Water Level: 1,800-3,000 cfs for Bob's; 3,000-4,000 cfs for Joe Bob's.
Water Level Window: In and out from October through June, depending on rainfall and snowmelt.
Screw-up Factor: The hole is deep, but hit your roll fast or be ready for an ice cream headache.
Locals Tip: Don't forget your neoprene hood--and bring Dramamine for the motion sickness from
endless cartwheels.
--edb
Trestle Hole
Deschutes River, Oregon
While most Oregonians have lamented the onslaught of heavy rains and floods over the last few years,
kayakers have been jumping for joy. Anyone who has spent time at Bob's Hole on the Clackamas has
heard of Oregon's newest playspot: Trestle Hole on the Deschutes River. Though actually not new,
Trestle Hole, named for an old railroad bridge just upstream, was scoured clean and greatly improved by
the recent floods. The improved hole has become one of the best playspots in the Pacific Northwest, and
in 1997 hosted a rodeo attracting dozens of the region's top paddlers.
Lurking on the right side of a small island just a few miles downstream from Scherar's Falls, Trestle Hole
is a magnet for local paddlers. It is wide (upwards of 30 feet), easy to approach (the left side eddy easily
holds a dozen kayakers) and incredibly versatile. It can accommodate three or four kayakers blasting at
once, and has enough seams to facilitate linked horizontal spins. Although it's a bit shallow below 3,900
cfs, higher levels allow for cartwheels, splitwheels, and all sorts of other vertical maneuvers. As levels
approach 6,000-7,000 cfs and higher, the hole becomes huge and sticky. Big enough, in fact, to almost
dwarf its namesake trestle.
Hole Hints:
Run/Class: Trestle Hole is the second rapid on the Lower Deschutes, a 44-mile Class III run in Central
Oregon.
Post Paddle Hangout: The nearest town--Maupin--ain't exactly Durango, Colo. Head up the hill from
the hole for a country-style breakfast at the Deschutes River Inn; hang out at one of the local photo shops
in Maupin; or meet at the Maupin Bridge and figure out where to go from there.
Best Place to Buy Noseplugs: Cascade Whitewater Center in Hood River, or Alder Creek Canoe and
Kayak Supply in Portland.
Optimal Water Level: 4,000-6,000 cfs
Water Level Window: April-October
Screw-up Factor: Keep your boat flat at flows under 3,900 cfs, or risk whittling your bow down to a
stub.
Stickiness Factor: You can windowshade your way to the funny farm at higher water levels. Otherwise,
the hole is pretty forgiving. Just watch out for a small, sticky pocket on river right.
Locals Tip: Spend your morning surfing the waves at Surf City or Elevator on the run above Scherar's
Falls, then come on down to Trestle after the crowds have disappeared.
--Jeff Bennett
The Wheel
Canyon Creek, Amboy, Washington
"Gently retentive," is how Cascade Whitewater Center co-owner John "Tre" Trujillo describes the Wheel
playhole on Canyon Creek near Amboy, Wash. For some that's an oxymoron. For others it's an apt
description of one of the Northwest's best newly discovered playspots. "Where Bob's Hole on the
Clackamas is great for flat spins, the Wheel is great for cartwheeling," he says. "If you start cartwheeling,
you're going to stay in it. It's not uncommon to see people link 15- and 20-points at a time."
Of course, such moves don't draw too much applause--firstly because everyone is doing them, secondly
because the hole is in the middle of nowhere, about a mile into the 4-mile, Class IV-V Canyon Creek run.
For those who don't want to run one of the Northwest's best boofing runs, complete with a 20-foot
waterfall, two 15-foot falls and plenty of horizon-line ledge drops, the section leading to the hole is Class
III. Instead of getting a Class V fix, you can take out after playing the hole and hike back up to the road.
To get there, head north on Interstate 5 from Portland and take the Battleground exit once you reach
Washington. Head towards Amboy, which marks the put-in, and check the level on the bridge pylon to
see if the hole is happening. A good place to meet is the Texaco halfway between the put-in and take-out.
When you get to the hole, prepare to get dizzy. It's one of the most retendo-friendly holes in the country,
complete with large eddies on both sides of the river to escalate you back up for another whirl. It's so
rodeo friendly, in fact, that in early May Portland's Alder Creek Canoe and Kayak Supply sponsored an
informal rodeo there. Rumor has it that winner Richard Oldenquist and second-place finisher Dan Gavere
are still seeing stars.
Hole Hints:
Run/Class: Four-mile Canyon Creek run; Class IV-V
Post Paddle Hangout: Replenish with pasta at Call's Italian Restaurant in Portland.
Best Place to Buy Noseplugs: Portland's Alder Creek Canoe & Kayak Supply.
Stickiness Factor: Will keep you cartwheeling 'til vertigo sets in.
Optimal Water Level: No gauge and no flow phone. Look at the base of the bridge pylon on river left at
the put-in. If the water is at the concrete lip or up to six inches higher (about 800-1,000 cfs), put on your
rodeo hat.
Water Level Window: Fed by Northwest rains from November through May.
Screw-up Factor: No consequences at all--save for bruises to your ego.
Locals Tip: Initiate your cartwheels on the river right corner of the hole and spin away.
--edb
Inflatable Hole
Main Payette, Idaho
It's known as Gutter, Rubber, Tube, Pulp Mill, Boom and simply The Hole. Whatever name Idaho
paddlers bestow upon the state's latest and greatest playhole, the hole is in a class by itself, largely
because it's formed by an inflatable dam, made from an 8-foot-diameter rubber tube stretching 220 feet
from bank to bank. The dam is computer controlled, diverting water to a power plant downstream. When
these adjustments leave the dam partially inflated, it creates the most unique rodeo hole in the world.
Depending on the amount of air in the tube, the wave grows until it forms a break and collapses under its
own weight. Then the hole grows, boasting varying degrees of stickiness, until it intimidates even the
most seasoned rodeo boater. Depending on run-off, it can vary from a 40-foot-wide, 12-foot-tall monster
to an innocuous riffle and everything in between. Last year's Payette Whitewater Round-up saw it dialed
in perfectly to form the ideal hole, deep and sticky, with loose corners and dual-eddy service. "It's
definitely the best hole I've surfed in the rodeos out West," maintains Marc Lyle, who won the inaugural
rodeo there in 1996. Adds local Ken Long, who has as many hours in the hole as anyone, "It's about as
good as holes get." As with all things too good to be true, however, the hole does has its
downfalls--primarily in aesthetics. Instead of looking out on pristine Idaho forest, surfers stare at banks
lined with concrete and a chain-linked fence.
Hole Hints:
Run/Class: Main Payette; Class II-III
Post Paddle Hangout: If you're heading north, hit the Bank's Caf for a Payette or Rafter Burger; if
you're heading back to Boise, stop at the Lucky 13 (across from Idaho River Sports) for a pesto sauce
pizza.
Best Place to Buy Noseplugs: Cascade Rafting Co. and Kayak School five miles upstream.
Stickiness Factor: Capable of getting really big, although its stickiness factor doesn't rise proportionally.
But still expect to get windowshaded a few times.
Optimal Water Level: There's usually something going on all season, both at the hole and in the nearby
fish ladder.
Water Level Window: Half-inflation of the dam; 2,500-3,000 cfs for the fish ladder
Screw-up Factor: You have days to stick your roll, but it might mean walking back up.
Locals Tip: It's unpredictable. Go there ready for anything, from a simple surf wave to a giant hole with
a foam pile four feet overhead.
Cedar Hole
Lochsa River, Lowell, Idaho
Although it's about as predictable as Idaho's weather, if you hit it on the right day, Cedar Hole on the
Lochsa River near Lowell, Idaho, is about as perfect a playhole as Mother Nature can provide. The key,
of course, is getting to it at the right flow. Conditions were right in 1993 and '94 for it to serve as the site
for the Lochsa Rodeo, but in 1995 organizers had to move the contest to the Pipeline Surf Wave and in
'96 the event moved to a spot downstream. "It's definitely a tough one to hit," says rodeo competitor Dan
Gavere. "I've seen the hole come and go in an hour." When it's ripe, however, hang on for the ride of
your life. Located about halfway down the main Lochsa run in the middle of the river, the hole has a tall
shoulder that lets you hit 360-degree spins before even dropping down in the trough. It also has great
eddies on both sides of the river that provide valet service back upstream. And don't worry if you miss
either eddy. At the right flows, several play waves exist downstream, including a large crasher at higher
flows downstream on river left. If you want to get back to your friends upstream, head back to the road
and walk up to mile marker 115.5, where a large cedar tree marks the hole site and gives it its name.
Hole Hints:
Run/Class: Main Lochsa run; Class III-IV
Post Paddle Hangout: Lochsa Lodge in Powell, Idaho (get the Patty Melt or Lochsa Burger, which
features two-thirds of a pound of beef and a big chunk of ham).
Best Place to Buy Noseplugs: Board of Missoula, Missoula, Mont.
Stickiness Factor: Sticky as molasses at low water, less so at higher levels (6-7 feet).
Optimal Water Level: 4-5 feet on the gauge.
Water Level Window: Mid-April to early July.
Screw-up Factor: Zilch--just the possibility of buying the first round at the Lochsa Lodge if you swim.
Locals Tip: Stay on the river left side of the hole; river right is where people get spanked.
--edb
SuperHole
Kootenai River, Montana
The Super-hole on Montana's Kootenai River is not a standard destination for playboaters. But those who
have been there swear by it. Located on the Kootenai Indian Reservation about a two hour's drive on
Hwy. 2 west of Kallispell (about three hours east of Spokane, Wash.), the aptly named Superhole is
about a football field's length downstream of a river-wide 20-foot waterfall occasionally run by experts
(see the cover of Paddler's 1998 Calendar). You don't have to run the falls, however, to get to the hole; a
trail leads down right to the river's edge, letting you put in right at the hole or hike farther upstream.
Featured in the film PaddleQuest, the hole exists regardless of whether the river is flowing 5,000 cfs,
30,000 cfs or anything in between.
Naturally, the hole varies at these different flows, from a smooth diagonal wave feeding into a
10-foot-wide, five-foot-high foam pile, to a 60-foot-wide, 10-foot-high monstrosity. At any level the hole
is safe and flushes out in the center, but sometimes (in the case of a beating) it takes a few seconds to be
pushed there. Be prepared to get cartwheeled if you lose control. When you get spit out, roll quickly and
paddle hard to the left to catch an eddy that will escort you back upstream. If you don't, and instead get
carried to the right of a rock island 50 yards downstream, you have to get out and walk and then ferry
back over above the island. "It's not dangerous," says rodeo paddler Brandon Knapp, "it's just kind of a
drag because you miss the eddy."
Hole Hints:
Run/Class: Kootenai Falls; IV-V
Post Paddle Hangout: Head back to Whitefish and hit the Great Northern Brewery for libations, and
Truby's (wood-fired pizzas) and the Tupelo Grill (Cajun pasta) to replace carbs lost on the Kootenai.
Best Place to Buy Noseplugs: Bring them from home; otherwise, improvise or head to the Snow Frog in
Whitefish.
Optimal Water Level: The lower end of the 5,000- to 30,000-cfs range makes moves more manageable,
but it'll surf you at any level.
Water Level Window: Spring runoff will give you high levels for a maximum scare factor. Late
summer is mellower and more manageable.
Screw-up Factor: The run below the falls is a very pushy Class III-IV, about a mile and a half long.
Swimming is a very bad idea, and it could become dangerous quickly simply because of the high
volume.
Locals Tip: You're in the woods here, so pack a lunch (though food can be purchased within 30 minutes
of the falls). You'll also burn up as much adrenaline getting there on Hwy. 2 as you will in the hole
(small road, no speed limit). Finally, the water is very cold, and is always feeding to the center. Dress
warmly.
--Corran Addison
1997 On June 3,
1997,
well-known
outdoor
photographer,
kayaker and
Grand Canyon
river guide
Dugald
Bremner and three companions found
themselves on the Silver Fork of
California's American River. By early
afternoon they reached the most difficult
rapid and stopped to scout it. High flows
poured over a ledge, obscuring a sieve
of faults siphoning much of the water
through the bedrock. Dugald entered the
Flags flying half-mast at the Olympic Training Center. A current and lined up on what appeared to
scale-model dory, engulfed in flames, carrying ashes down the be simple turbulence at the head of the
Grand Canyon's Lava Falls. A Chevy Chevelle, topped with falls. In reality, the turbulence marked a
flowers and kayaks, making one last shuttle to the Roaring submerged fissure cutting into the
Fork's Slaughterhouse run. A riverside service during bedrock with water folding in from both
September's World Rodeo Championships. sides. As he followed the flow, his nose
hit a shallow piece of bedrock and
Rich Weiss. Dugald Bremner. Henry Filip. Chuck Kern. stalled, causing his stern to snag in the
crevice. The current dragged the boat
Like a word-association puzzle, lines can be drawn from the
down quickly, and Dugald asked Eric
above scenarios to the above names. Doing so, however,
Brown, standing on shore, for help.
reveals a startling truth: the summer of 1997 will go down as
While the other kayakers were
one of the most tragic seasons in the history of whitewater
downstream scouting, ready to assist on
kayaking.
possible trouble encountered on a series
Other people have died kayaking. A total of 15 in the U.S. this of lower pourovers, Eric waded across
year alone, to be exact. But never have as many high-profile the fast-moving water, expecting only to
paddlers perished within such a short time frame. Weiss, give the kayak a nudge. But the situation
Bremner, Filip and Kern. The names rattle off the tongue like rapidly turned serious. A strong current
a law firm. They were among the best of the best, well-known ran beneath the surface, drawing the
throughout the industry. Weiss, whose death caused flags to stern downward and jamming it tighter
fly half-mast at the Olympic Training Center, was a two-time into the crevice. Eric straddled the crack
Olympian. Bremner, whose friends floated a flaming dory as a and used his body to deflect the water
funeral pyre down Lava Falls, was a popular outdoor while grabbing Dugald's boat and
photogapher and Grand Canyon guide. Filip, whose lifejacket. Ralph Michlisch came over to
flower-covered Chevy stayed with him until his last shuttle, assist, but the river pulled him into the
was a leading figure in Colorado hairboating circles. crevice and out through an opening in
Kern--remembered by rodeo competitors with a blue ribbon the rock. Bill Morse rescued him below
tied to their lifejackets at the '97 Worlds--was Perception's and then both climbed back up to help
western technical rep who had earned a berth on the U.S. rescue Dugald. As Dugald sank lower,
rodeo team. One eight-week period; the deaths of four the strong current pinned him forward
high-profile paddlers. against his boat, trapping his legs inside.
The river then pulled the stern deeper
The unsettling part is that they all died on the water, pursuing into the crevice, causing the bow to rise
a sport they loved. And they all died paddling Class V. "It's higher. Dugald reached a hand out of the
really sobering," says Perception's Risa Shimoda Callaway, water and Eric grabbed it before feeling
personal friends of Weiss and Kern. "Hopefully it will make it relax. Seeing no other option, Bill
people think a little more about what they're doing." The jumped onto the stern of the kayak by
problem, she adds, is a simple case of numbers. "The sport's bracing himself on the bedrock and
no more dangerous than it was before, it's just that more and yanked at Dugald's lifejacket, tearing it
more people are running harder and harder rivers," she says, apart. Then he reached for Dugald's
admitting that the summer's deaths have caused her to reassess helmet, breaking the chinstrap, before he
running difficult drops. "The number of difficult rivers being too was sucked under and eventually
done is staggering, especially compared to a few years ago. rescued by Eric.
Everybody has an off day, and if you have one when you're
paddling difficult runs four or five times a week, you're After they paddled out for help, word of
putting yourself at risk. the accident reached Dugald's close
friends and family, who quickly
"What's scary," she adds, "is when you start counting all the descended on the Silver Fork. On June
close calls, the ones people don't hear about. That, and the fact 8, an expert team gathered at the site
that it could happen to anybody. There's no reason it should under the direction of rigger Mike Weis,
have been Chuck instead of someone else. And in Richie's with Lars Holbek and Eric Magnuson
case, 10 other people would have made the same decision in handling the in-river work. Within a few
the same situation." hours they completed the recovery of
That, of course, is exactly what is sending ripples of Dugald and his boat. His friends brought
uncertainty throughout top-level players in the industry. "It the kayak home to Flagstaff, Ariz., and
definitely makes you think twice about what you're doing," leaned it against the wall of Dugald's
says Ed Lucero, a prominent hairboater and friend of Kern's. photography studio, where it still stands,
"I didn't paddle hard stuff for a few weeks after Chuck died. bow skyward.
Richie's death I could write off as sort of a fluke, but with --Adapted from a tribute by Scott
Chuck it was just too much." Thibony that appeared in Boatman's
Indeed, those tracking whitewater's accident and fatality rates Quarterly Review, Vol. 10, No. 3
point to 1997 as one of kayaking's worst. "There has definitely
been a spate of high-profile, well-known accidents this year," Rich Weiss
says Charlie Walbridge, former chairman of the American Editor's note:. The following is an
Canoe Association's safety committee. "It's not so much an abbreviated account of a report
increase in the number of deaths, but a spike in the number of published in Paddler, Oct. 1997.
qualified boaters killed on Class V.
Rich Weiss
"The only cause of these deaths," he adds, "is the demanding and John "Tre"
nature of Class V, which is brutally intolerant of errors in Trujillo put in
water reading, boat handling and judgment. We're getting to on
the point where kayakers are pushing the envelope the same Washington's
way mountaineers have been doing since the 1930s. Just as in Class V Upper
climbing, skilled, competent people are cutting their margins White Salmon
too fine. The really high-end stuff can't be run forever. River on June
Eventually statistics catch up with you." 25. The river
Out of 45 whitewater fatalities reported in the U.S. in was running
1996--which includes everything from low-head dam four feet
accidents to heart attacks--10 kayakers died paddling Class (about 2,000
IV-V whitewater (excluding the deaths of Steve Fairchild on cfs), almost a
Chile's Futaleafu and Washington's Justin Casserly in foot above
Mexico). Two of those in particular, says Walbridge, caused average. The two knew the river well,
nearly as big a stir as this summer's deaths. In September '96, having run it at 4.5 feet two days earlier.
Scott Hassan, a long-time Class V kayaker, drowned in a After three quarters of a mile, they
drain-type sieve on West Virginia's 400-foot-per-mile pulled over to scout Big Brother, a
Meadow Creek, a run he had paddled more than 30 times. 30-foot waterfall with a small lead-in
"That really shook a lot of people up," says Walbridge. "He drop of about two feet, followed by a
was as well-known in the East as Dugald was in the West." 28-foot waterfall. The falls are shallow
The curve continued in December when well-known eastern on the left two-thirds, with most of the
boater Todd Smith died on West Virginia's Possum Creek water going over the right one-third into
near Chattanooga, Tenn. a hydraulic. Mist rising from river right
makes it difficult to see what is going on
This year's trend of paddlers dying on difficult water below. On river right about six to nine
established itself well before the deaths of Weiss, Bremner, feet out from the base of the falls, but
Filip and Kern. Of the year's 15 kayaking deaths reported to still in the backwash of the hydraulic, is
the American Whitewater Affiliation (AWA) as of Sept. 1, an undercut cave visible at 3.5 feet, but
nine involved experienced paddlers on Class IV-V not visible on the day of the accident.
whitewater, and at least six of the victims were considered Below the hydraulic is a pool, followed
experts. Adding to the expert count are the May 12 death of by another 15-foot waterfall. The correct
Joel Hathorn, who missed a do-or-die eddy during a first line is a wide peel-out from river left
descent of Idaho's Warren Creek, and the June 5 death of New two-thirds of the way across the river,
Mexico's Brian Reynolds, who took a Class IV-V swim on enabling you to move from river right
Idaho's South Fork of the Payette at high water. back to river left following a seam away
from the hydraulic. John went first,
"The percentage of hardboat fatalities on Class V has
flipped at the bottom, rolled, and eddied
definitely increased over the past few years," says Lee
out on the left. Rich did not get left soon
Belknap, chairman of the AWA's safety committee. "And
enough, dropped into the hydraulic on
when charted as its own category, Class V fatalities show a
river right and was immediately
striking increase over the past two years, despite an only
back-endered.
moderate rise when measured as a percentage of all hardboats.
The only consolation is that whenever we spiked like this in When John saw that Rich was stuck in
the past, the succeeding years were typically much calmer as the hydraulic (although he couldn't tell
paddlers learned from the accidents." Learning from this whether Rich was still in the boat), he
summer's accidents, however, isn't easy-especially since, as exited his boat on river right and
Callaway points out, they could have happened to anybody. proceeded upstream along a narrow
"Maybe that's the underlying lesson," says Walbridge. "When bank jutting five feet out from the wall,
you have accidents involving mainstream paddlers, you're getting as close to the hydraulic as
getting into a whole new realm of dangers. It's one thing to possible. During this period Rich's boat
educate people who are unprepared. It's another when you're washed out, but there was no sign of
dealing with people at the top end of the sport." Rich. John started throwing his
throw-rope into the falls and into the
The situation is certainly not unique to kayaking. Compared
underwater cave, to no avail. When he
with tragedies in the climbing world, including recent
saw this was not working, he hiked out
disasters on Mt. Everest and in the Alps, the number of
to the road, hitch-hiked to town and
kayaking casualties is a drop in the bucket. But since they're
called the sheriff. When the sheriff
coming from a smaller pool of participants, the numbers start
arrived, John led him and two rescue
carrying more weight. And for a tight-knit sport still emerging
team members to the river, where they
into the mainstream, the deaths of its top-level participants
found Rich's body 100 feet downstream
have left ripples of grief extending far beyond the surface.
of the second falls, washed up on river
As well as stirring up people's sentiments, the deaths have also right against a 10-inch-diameter log. His
stirred debates as to the direction of the sport, bringing up lifejacket and helmet were still on. He
issues and concerns that until now have rarely been voiced. As had a slight cut over his left eye, with a
with any tragedy (as illustrated in the death of Princess Di) second small cut on the right temple. No
people want answers and the assignment of blame. In the case other marks were noticed. The cause of
of Weiss and Filip, did a blow to the head come first or the death was ruled as drowning, but there is
drowning? Would Bremner have died had he been in another no way of telling whether a blow to the
boat? Would Kern have made the same decision had he head caused unconsciousness first, or
scouted from below? No one will ever know. The easy way whether he drowned before the head
out is to blame these deaths on errors in judgment. But that's injury.
like pinning an airplane crash on pilot error. Judgment is an
esoteric term that doesn't take into account hidden rocks Henry Filip
throwing you off line or hidden sieves capable of swallowing
Colorado's Crystal River was running
boats whole. "Chuck had the best judgment of anyone," says
approximately 1,250 cfs (considered a
Lucero. "I probably would have made the exact same
medium-high level) on June 28, 1997.
decision, and that's what's so scary."
Local boater Henry Filip scouted
Fingers are also quick to point at a breed of new, Meatgrinder Rapid before putting-in,
easy-to-paddle designs that are putting more people on harder even though he probably had run this
runs faster. But that's hardly the case in the deaths of Bremner, drop about 50 times during his lifetime.
Weiss, Filip and Kern. For them, skill wasn't necessarily a Meatgrinder is divided by a large
factor. All were seasoned Class V boaters with more than 50 boulder, known as the "Island," which
years of experience between them. No one can say that Weiss splits the river into a right and left
didn't belong on the White Salmon, that Bremner didn't belong channel and marks the middle of the
on the Silver Fork, that Filip didn't belong on the Crystal, or rapid. The upper half is the more
that Kern didn't belong in the Black Canyon. If they didn't technically demanding section, with
belong there, no one does. "It's not a skill question," agrees pourovers, wood and the need to move
former U.S. Canoe & Kayak Team Coach Bill Endicott, who right or left to avoid the rock island
coached Weiss to his first Olympic appearance in 1992. "No obstacle. Two kayakers and one other
one is going to have more skill than Richie. I think maybe spectator were stationed along the
we're just starting to bump up against the upper limit of what river-left bank with a throw rope and a
can be successfully run." video camera. Henry ran the upper half
of Meatgrinder without incident and
As for the role new equipment plays, Lucero adds that, if eddied-out in the river-left channel.
anything, new designs are making the sport safer as they
encourage recreational "playboating" over running Class V. The lower half
At the same time, however, they present somewhat of a Catch is not as
-22. Just as beginners and intermediates are using new designs technical, but
to pursue playboating over river running, many advanced includes three
paddlers are using them on harder runs, and as a result they're holes in
having more close calls. "The sport needs to slow down and succession
catch up with itself," maintains Tamara Robbins, one of before the
Kern's close paddling friends. "Boat designs have eclipsed rapid ends.
skill levels." Maybe so, but again, not in the case of Weiss, Henry waited
Bremner, Filip or Kern. while
long-time
Fate might well have dealt them a different hand had they paddling partner Gordon Banks set-up to
been in different boats. But the cards may have fallen just the film the lower half of the drop. Henry
same. Kern was in a Perception Arc, one of the company's peeled-out and then went over a
more forgiving models. Weiss was in a Perception Whiplash, pourover and another hole he didn't have
a boat he had been paddling all year. Filip was in a New Wave momentum to penetrate. After getting
Mongoose, perfect for the steep, rocky riverbed of windowshaded in the hole, he recovered,
Meatgrinder. Bremner was in a Dagger Freefall, designed but was then knocked over by the next
specifically for steep creeks. "As far as Dugald's death goes, cluster of holes. He floated out of this
the way he pinned wasn't due to the boat," says Mike Bader, a second group of holes immediately but
friend of Dugald's who helped retrieve the boat and body. "He his roll attempts were disrupted by
would have gotten pinned no matter what he was in--he just another pourover and rough water.
misjudged the depth, which slowed him down and threw him Henry floated into the third group of
off line." holes, marked by a cliff on the river-left
These variables are what have old school paddlers like bank, still attempting to roll. He most
Endicott so concerned. "In my opinion, this whole extreme likely took some head blows from
game is getting carried too far," he says. "People need to think underwater rocks in the process. Upon
about their actions more. Part of good judgement is leaving exiting the holes, Henry didn't show any
more room for margin of error. When I started paddling in the more movement, nor did he attempt to
'60s we had glass boats and there was a self-limiting factor. roll. Slow-motion video replays vaguely
Run something you didn't belong on and you ruin your boat." show him letting go of his paddle after
he drifts out of the holes next to the
No one can deny that compared to Endicott's fiberglass days, small cliff.
modern boats are largely responsible for putting paddlers on
more dangerous runs. But people will push the envelope no On shore, only Gordon was positioned
matter what boat they're in. It's human nature. What concerns to see the lower part of Henry's run. His
the likes of Endicott is when that envelope gets pushed perspective was limited, however,
because of external factors. "When you get more people because he was looking through the
involved, they begin to influence each other," he says. viewfinder. As a result, he could not tell
"Someone will run something and make it look easy, and where Henry was. He presumed Henry
others will base their judgement on that instead of deciding for had finally swum from his boat. The
themselves. And then there are those who encourage other three spectators, now rescuers, searched
people to sidestep their judgment by staging races, shooting the bottom area of Meatgrinder
videos and taking pictures." unsuccessfully before regrouping. Two
of them then searched the river-right
Most top-level paddlers, however, realize that the final side of the river while Gordon searched
decision to run something comes from within. "For the most farther downstream. Gordon went down
part, people don't run hard stuff they wouldn't otherwise run to Penny Hotsprings (one mile
because of racers, videos or any other external factors," says downstream), where he saw Henry's
Eric Jackson, president of the World Kayak Federation, which kayak floating upside-down in the
stages an annual Class V race on Washington, D.C.'s Great middle of the river. He went down to the
Falls of the Potomac. "Most people paddle within their ability river to retrieve the boat. As he got
level, and if you do that, the odds are good you'll be fine." closer, he realized Henry was still in the
boat. Gordon and another rescuer could
It's not likely this summer's deaths will stop people from
not get Henry out of the river before he
paddling Class V. As with skiers progressing from green
slid into Narrows Rapid, just
circles to black diamonds, as boaters get better they will
downstream of the hotspring. Henry
continue to push themselves. "When you reach that upper skill
floated through the Narrows section in
level it's an extremely fun challenge to paddle difficult
his boat as well. Two miles later and
whitewater," says former USCKT member Steve Holmes,
after multiple attempts to get his boat to
who had a co-worker involved in a recent fatality on
shore, Henry dislodged from the boat.
Colorado's Arkansas River. "And as much as we all hate to
Gordon reached him at an island and
admit it, it's sort of an ego thing, matching yourself up against
attempted resuscitation. By that time,
someone else. But the river's a fickle thing; it doesn't care who
Henry had been under his boat floating
you are or how good a paddler you are."
down the river for approximately 45
If nothing else, this summer's deaths have caused discussions minutes.
that otherwise might not have been brought to the surface. --Gordon Banks
And that, says the AWA's Belknap, is a step in the right
direction. "The most effective action is to talk about it and
discuss it within the boating community," he says. "That's the
Chuck Kern
only way for whatever lessons can be learned to really sink On August 14,
in." 1997, Chuck
Even though egos and adrenal glands may have been tucked Kern, the
aside for a while, life, and paddling, goes on. And no matter western
how stirred up people's emotions have been, it's a safe bet that technical rep
all four paddlers in question would want everyone in the for Easley,
paddling community to continue to live life to the fullest. "It S.C.'s
definitely shakes you up when someone you know dies on the Perception Inc.
river," says Dan Gavere, an extreme boater who has been and member of
pushing the envelope for years. "But I know they died doing the 1997 U.S. Rodeo Team, drowned
what they loved. If I die, I'd much rather be in my boat than while paddling a narrow section of the
anywhere else, and I'd much rather die because of my own Black Canyon of the Gunnison River in
mistake than because of someone else's actions. At least out Colorado's Curecanti National
on the river I'm in control of my own destiny. For us, it's a Recreation Area. Paddling with a group
lifestyle. We don't do it for the money, we do it because we of six experienced boaters, including his
love to be out on the river." And although he still grieves brothers Willie and John, Kern began his
about the deaths of his cohorts, he adds it's not likely to trip at East Portal early that morning. As
change the way he paddles. "You can't put the death of your the group entered a mile-long, generally
friends behind you, but I don't think it's going to change my portaged section of the canyon, they
style of boating," he says. "Chuck and Rich both knew where opted to run the more conservative
they were, knew it was dangerous, and paid for their actions. drops. The accident took place just
All the upper-level guys can accept those dangers--that's the upstream of "Cruise Gully" on a
bottom line. We wouldn't be out there pushing the envelope if five-foot sloping ramp of water. After
we weren't willing to die on the river. If you're going to boat everyone scouted and picked their
that kind of water, you just have to be willing to accept the respective lines, Kern opted for a run
consequences." down a ramp on river left. What
appeared to be a single rock just under
the surface, however, turned out to be a
Kayaking vs. Other Adrenaline rock bridge, creating a sieve not visible
from the group's vantage point. As Kern
Sports? paddled over the drop, his bow went
under the bridge and became vertically
Kayaking is not the only adrenaline-based sport to see pinned in the sieve, with the water
high-profile participants pass away. In recent years, the sports pressure pushing his boat out of sight.
of climbing, surfing and skiing have all seen top-level players The rest of the group reached his side of
perish while pursuing the sport they loved. the river within three to five minutes and
Grief struck the skiing world in February 1996 when extreme set up a rope through his stern grab loop.
skier Trevor Petersen died in an avalanche in the French Alps They set up a Z-drag and attempted to
in 1996. The industry was further saddened last winter by the pull the boat out from various directions,
death of long-time skier Allan Bard while guiding clients up breaking several prussiks in the process.
Wyoming's Grand Teton; and again this past summer by the After an hour of trying to move the boat
death of photographer T.R. Youngstrom, who died in a with no success, the group paddled the
helicopter crash in the Andes of Chile. For Powder magazine remainder of the river to contact the
editor Steve Casimiro, the similarities between those risking National Park Service. Through the
their lives kayaking and those risking their lives skiing are rescue efforts of a team headed by Vail,
striking. "It's the fact that you're dealing with objective Colo.'s Mike Duffy, the Park Service
dangers," he says. "At ski resorts, those objective dangers arranged to drop the water level enough
have been dramatically reduced. But as with kayaking Class to enable rescuers to retrieve Kern and
V, if you're on a 50-degree pitch littered with rock bands, the his boat. Private services were held Aug.
objective dangers are big. At that level, it's not just enough to 23 in Kern's hometown of Stowe, Vt.,
be great. You have to have the ability of discernment, to back with a service for the paddling
away. You have to be able to say, 'Whoa, there are too many community held Sept. 3 at the Chutes
things going on that I can't control.' That's the commonality des Plaisanc near Ottawa, Canada.
between these sports." --Veronica Griner, Perception Inc.
The big-wave surfing world also has lost a few top players. The highly publicized death of Mark Foo on
California's Maverick break in 1994 shocked a community as tight-knit as the Class V kayaking crowd.
Then came the death of pro surfer Donnie Solomon in 1995 in Hawaii, followed by last February's death
of pro surfer Todd Chesser, also in Hawaii. "But I don't think these deaths have stopped anybody from
surfing big breaks," says Surfer magazine's Evan Slater. "You just have to evaluate it and continue on. If
I'm going to die, that's how I would want it to happen."
Climbing hasn't been immune from such fatalities either. "It's been a rough year in climbing also," says
Dugald MacDonald, editor of Rock & Ice magazine. He is referring to the climbing death of Bard, and
that of Doug Hall, who died last winter in an avalanche while ice climbing in Utah. "That kind of thing is
going to happen in high risk sports," he says. "And as these sports become more popular, more accidents
are going to occur."
Is kayaking more dangerous than these other sports? It depends who you ask. Skiing an avalanche-prone
couloir above a cliff band and surfing waves with the power to demolish small ships are certainly every
bit as consequential as paddling off a waterfall. As Casimiro points out, it comes to recognizing and
evaluating the sport's objective dangers. MacDonald feels that many climbers would rather take their
chances clinging to the side of a mountain than subject themselves to the potential of drowning. "Many
climbers perceive kayaking as being extremely dangerous," he says. "But at the same time, there are
plenty of kayakers who say that about climbers."
If anyone can assess the difference between kayaking and climbing, it's 62-year-old Royal Robbins, a
world-known climber who also has 30 kayaking first descents to his credit. In his 40 plus years of
adventuring, Robbins--whose daughter, Tamara, was good friend of Chuck Kern--has seen a lot of things
happen in both sports. "Sometimes you have a rash of things happen all at once," he says from his office
in Modesto, Calif., where he heads his Royal Robbins clothing line. "Deaths like that happen in climbing,
and hopefully that's all we're seeing in this recent string of kayaking deaths.
"But it's still rather shocking," he adds. "And these deaths do show that risk is there in extreme kayaking.
I don't know if it's more dangerous than climbing or not--it's probably more comparable to
mountaineering where you're dealing with more objective dangers--but I can say that I've come closer to
getting killed kayaking than climbing." Robbins admits that the ante has been upped since his day. "Back
then, we were all sufficiently afraid to run hard stuff," he says. "People are doing things now that we
never dreamed of. But just as in mountaineering, because of better equipment the casualty rate hasn't
really gone up. Still, once you start pushing things to too high of a level, the nature of the sport changes."
One similarity climbing shares with kayaking is the recent growth in playboating--where paddlers show
up at a hole or wave, paddle for a few hours and then leave--and sportclimbing, which takes place at
man-made gyms and on bolted routes outdoors. "The gear for both is a lot better now, and it has led to
substantial growth," says MacDonald. "But the bottom line is more people are doing it, and that's
opening the door to more mishaps when they pursue their sport in a less-controlled environment."
One way to compare the dangers of the two is to look at the numbers. According to reports filed with the
American Whitewater Affiliation, kayaking fatalities in the U.S. totaled eight in 1995, 10 in 1996 and 15
in 1997. Climbing, says Jed Williamson, who edits an annual journal called Accidents in North American
Mountaineering, has seen an average of 28 domestic deaths a year for the past decade. But Williamson is
not discouraged by these figures--especially since they include everything from mountaineering
accidents to those involving "non-climbers in a climbing situation." "With the increased number of
participants the sport has seen, these figures are actually encouraging," says Williamson, who, like
Robbins, has spent a fair amount of time behind a paddle. "And I have to think that given the number of
people taking up kayaking that it too is also doing pretty well."
Hotline
innuendos
For most people, grinding sand and soot into your eye with an extended, dirt-covered finger is not a
pleasant pastime. Then again, neither is missing a surf wave or getting trounced by an unsuspecting
hole...which is exactly why I decided to try kayaking with contacts. I figured if wearing them got me on a
surf wave I would have otherwise missed, or saved me from an avoidable trashing, it would be well
worth the eye-tearing inconvenience.
It's not the first time I've figured wrong. I've never been much of an eye person. Unlike those who can
baste their eyes in Visine while sea kayaking in a hurricane, I've always shied away from putting my
eyeballs in contact with anything other than their lids. On the rare occasions when I've had to use drops,
it's taken the help of full-length mirrors, well-positioned lights and a healthy dose of bravado. And even
then, for every drop I got in my eye, more than a few cfs found its way down my face and onto the floor.
Wearing contacts, then, was as foreign to me as kayaking would be to Keratotomy for Kayaking
an optometrist. I was used to rubbing sand out of my eyes, not
rubbing it in. The whole thought of sticking a piece of plastic in my Having been cursed with
eye seemed revolting. Nevertheless, I resigned myself to the task, and near-sightedness and astigmatism,
my initiation into the Contact Wearing Kayaker's Club (CWKC) I spent years seeking a
came last May on a five-day trip down Colorado's Yampa River. satisfactory way to see my way
down rivers. Contacts flushed out
It's not a club I was glad to join. Like the gradual loss of any bodily in rapids and glasses fogged any
function, it meant recognizing one's mortality and addressing the time I really needed to see. So,
concept of middle age. And my membership was somewhat suspect. I when I first heard about Radial
didn't really need the things, and could, and still do, see fine without Keratotomy--an operation that
them. If put to an eye test with other contact-wearing kayakers, I could cure my woes with a few
could probably out Q,R,X,Y,Z,T all of them. But I had purchased a flicks of a surgeon's knife--I was
pair of glasses the winter before for driving at night, and figured if intrigued. When I first researched
technology could help me see roadsigns it might well do the same for the process--which utilizes
surf waves--which, on the Yampa's 15,000 cfs, would be one-shot microscopic corneal incisions to
attempts requiring as much advance notice as possible. If you didn't modify the shape of your
see them ahead of time, your chances at surfing them vanished in the eyeball--it sounded scary as hell.
blink of an eye. Who wants their corneas sliced
Not that blinking has ever been a problem for contact-wearers. up like pizza? Then I got
Boaters with contacts record as many blinks on a given day as they trounced in another big rapid
do paddle strokes. I found this out the first day I tried to put them when mist-covered glasses all but
in--during a practice run at home before the curtain call on the river. obscured the correct line of
Between blinks I could see that the process was going to be much passage. Within eight weeks, my
like trying to learn how to roll. In both, the first thing you do is put fears were cast aside and I found
your head forward. In rolling, it's toward the cockpit; with contacts, myself sitting in the surgeon's
it's towards a mirror. Next comes reaching your hands out of the chair eagerly awaiting newfound
water. With contacts this means pulling them from the sink and vision. It has been over a year
shaking them free of any clinging-on drops. Once your hands are out since I had RK surgery, and I'm
it's time for the set-up. In rolling, it's orienting the paddle blade; with seeing great. I went from 20/400
contacts it's orienting little plastic bowls on your finger. Then comes vision to 20/25 and my
the sweep followed by the snap. It's the same with contacts as you astigmatism is all but gone. Heck,
sweep them into your eye with a quick snap of the wrist-and I can see well enough now to see
sometimes body. Finally, just as in completing a roll you keep your other paddlers' glasses fogging up
head down until the very last second to employ the help of gravity, across the river! Nonetheless, my
and you blink a few times when all is said and done to make sure story is not unique. RK has
everything's in order. That, at least, is how it's supposed to look on benefited thousands of outdoor
paper. In reality, just as in learning to roll, you end up discouraged enthusiasts (Wave Sports owner
and downtrodden. Chan Zwanzig recently went
through the same procedure) and
Naturally, I wasn't going to subject myself to such torture without new techniques are being refined
first seeing if it was going to be worth it. For that, I picked the brains all the time. If you're afraid of
of several contact-wearing kayakers, most of whom set me straight. surgery, don't sweat it. It didn't
"Dude, they're way better than glasses," said my friend Will Gadd, hurt much at all, and it beats
who first started kayaking with contacts in 1983. "They don't fog up swimming rapids any day of the
when it's cold, so monster deathhole pourovers aren't visible only as a week.
small hump." But he also admitted to their shortcomings. "Once I --Jeff Bennett
rolled up with my contact hanging from my eyelash," he added. "I
grabbed it off my eyelash, but I still had to paddle because I was in the middle of a fair-sized drop. I put
it in my mouth as a stop-gap measure, but forgot about it and swallowed it when I hit another hole. I
didn't look for it on the other end." Even though he's only lost three contacts in 14 years of boating, he
advised me to buy the disposable kind. "That way it doesn't matter if you lose one," he said.
Losing one was the farthest thing from my mind. It was getting them in that worried me. Luckily, I didn't
go on the Yampa trip cold-turkey; I practiced a handful of times at home, following my roll technique.
But it wasn't easy, and I got wetter than I would have during a Class V swim. I was a rookie member of
the CWKC, even in the sterile confines of a bathroom. The feat required 30 minutes per eye and every
curse in my vocabulary. Put it in, blink, and watch it fall out into a gooey fold sticking to your eyelash.
Curse and try again. On the river, I would be leaving the safety of sinks and saline solution behind. If I
had trouble with them at home, how would I fare with hands covered in sand, soot and other river grime?
The answer came on the Yampa. Getting ready for the excursion wasn't much different than for any other
multi-day trip--save for adding a mirror, a bottle of contact juice and a little plastic case to an ammo can
already crowded with cigars, headlights, toothbrushes and lantern mantles. How I would fare in the wild
showed itself the second day (I went without them on day one). While everyone else was rigging, I
skulked off to my tentsite and foraged through the ammo can for the necessary materials that had
migrated to the bottom. I then propped the mirror up, dunked my soot-covered finger into the case and
stabbed my finger into my eye. Strike one. The contact wrapped on my eyelid like a raft on a rock.
Z-drag it apart, repeat and try again. Strike two. By now, everyone's drybag had been packed, and I was
suspiciously absent from the camp-breakdown chores. Contact back on the finger and another poke in the
eye. Bingo! Halfway there. By the time I finished, I had added a good half hour to my camp breakdown
time. But I could see, and more importantly, I was going to surf.
Of course, that brought up the next thing I dreaded: the inevitable eyelid peel. I have had my lids peeled
back enough times to know how it feels without gooey plastic things in your eyes. If my eyes burned
from the average peel-back, how would they feel with contacts? Would they serve as a protective shield
or bunch up in the corner? That answer came on my first surf. Thanks to my newfound vision, I saw the
wave in plenty of time to catch it and was soon surfing away. Then the boat pounded, causing a searing
surge of water to beeline straight for my pupil. It stung alright, and caused the contact to shift around so I
was seeing quadruple--which is fine if you're on a bathing suit-filled beach, but another matter when
you're stuck on a wave. With a couple of one-handed dabs to my lid, it settled back into position while I
was still on the wave and stayed put for the rest of the day. By day five, the ordeal got easier. I could put
them in in time to still contribute to the final group chore of taking down the toilet. Any self-respecting
optometrist would cringe at the sand-caked hands performing the task, but I got the job done.
After my introduction into the CWKC I started using them on other runs, and have since come up with
my own user system. On easy runs, or while playing at a specific spot, I forget about them. It's not worth
the wear and tear on my pupils or patience. But on harder runs that involve scouting, I cowboy up and go
for it, setting my alarm a half-hour early. I brought them on the Middle Fork of the Salmon at flood and
on my first foray down Colorado's Big South Fork of the Poudre (where an inopportune eye-douche
made me see quadruple in the middle of a read-it-and-eat-it rapid). Just as with people learning to read
and run whitewater, I have learned to deal with them--even though I treat them with the respect reserved
for brussels sprouts and lima beans. I can't pop one out and throw it back in in an eddy, but I can blink
with the best of them until vision returns.
In the process of all of this, I now find myself scrutinizing other paddlers I see on the river. Is she
wearing contacts? Is he? In doing so, I have learned that there are card-carrying members of the CWKC
on rivers everywhere, and that I'm not alone in my infliction. I might be a little more spastic than
most--and I might grind more sand into my eyes in the process--but I'm getting on waves I would have
otherwise missed...and missing out on camp chores I would otherwise get.
eco
skills
Reverse Strokes
An ingenious way to get better reverse strokes and maneuvers (and still be shoulder-safe) is to use the
transverse kneeling position. Frequently called "facing your work," the transverse position has you
kneeling sideways, facing the gunwale (photo #5). This makes it easier to reach sternward for more
effective paddle placement. In a compound or combination backstroke, the length of the power portion of
the stroke is increased, making it easier to get a vertical entry at the catch. It also takes less torso rotation.
And because your arms can not travel behind your shoulder plane, the possibility of shoulder dislocation
is remote. Facing the side also allows better sternward visibility. Being able to see where you're going
adds more safety and enjoyment to reverse travel. Moving into the transverse position starts with moving
the onside knee back to just in front of the seat. Then, come up off the seat and pivot around to face the
onside rail. Next, shift your weight to the onside knee to allow the offside knee to skid around to a
position next to and forward of the onside knee, bringing both feet to comfortable alignment with the
knees. It sounds like a contortionist's nightmare, but it's not. And the little time it takes to learn this
kneeling position will yield much greater performance from your canoe.
Writer's Guidelines
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Surprise us with unique ideas--we see entirely too many over-written, "Me and
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or First Descents column. Features should be between 2,000 and 3,000 words
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The four day powerplant capacity release is part of this year's regime of test
releases from Glen Canyon Dam, which began in April 2000 for the benefit of
endangered
www.uc.usbr.gov/pao/lowflow.html.
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Simmonds is compiling a list of the economic impact of the fires on Idaho outfitters,
which he will present to the Idaho congressional delegation before they go back in
session. "We don't have exact figures yet but we're talking in the five to ten million
dollar range," Simmonds said. "And what's happening now is that the fires are
burning together--it's not getting any better."
Despite the loss of income, Dave Warren of Warren River Expeditions in Salmon
says he doesn't believe anyone is second-guessing the decisions of the Forest
Service. "They closed the Middle Fork and the Main on August 17 but I haven't
heard anyone say it was a bad decision," Warren said. "Everybody is disapointed at
the money we're losing but when you've got winds like that and flames that close to
the river, you wouldn't would to be there on a private trip--much less with commercial
passengers." In a support trip float down the Main Salmon over the weekend,
Warren was forced to stop at China Bar and hike the nine miles out to Whitewater.
"We stashed the boats under a fire shelter as best we could and headed out," he
said.
More than 80 major fires continue to burn in the two states, including one near Red
Lodge, Montana that began over the weekend and has authorities considering a
plan to evacuate all 180 residents.
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Former Durango local Polly Green won the women's small boat division.
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River Flows
Bulletin Boards
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This year's event will feature a select group of films from the National Paddling Film
Festival (NPFF) and cover both action and environmental categories. The NPFF is
affiliated with American Whitewater (AW).
Among the films to be shown are: "Code Red: Team D Freestyle", "Twitch 2000",
"Silent Thunder: The Legend of Team C", and "Stikine River Fever". California
filmmaker, Dave Steindorf, will show his documentary "More Than
The Festival will take place at the Sierra Nevada Outdoor Center located at the
Corner of Highway 49 and Lotus Road. Barbecue from 5:30 - 7 pm, films screened 7
- 10 pm. "This is the kind of outdoor fun and river related recreation we think people
will really enjoy", commented Betsy Reifsnider,FOR executive director, "They will
also learn about some of our important conservation efforts." Both FOR and AW are
beneficiaries of this year's event. Door prizes will be given away to attendees from
sponsors including: Dagger, Paddler Magazine, Perception, Kokatat, Teva, Mountain
Travel*Sobek, Marine Technologies Inc. and California Canoe and Kayak.
For more information contact the Sierra Nevada Outdoor Center at 888-833-SNOC
(7663) or visit the SNOC Web Site at www.SNOC.com.
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Subscribe to Paddler by
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Paddler Retailer Just weeks after winning World Cup No. 2 on Tennessee's Ocoee River, slalom
River Flows sensation Rebecca Bennett-Giddens did it again, this time taking first-place at the
Bulletin Boards fourth World Cup race of the season in La Seu d'Urgell, Spain. The win puts her in
first place in overall World Cup standings, and bodes well for her bid for the gold at
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the Olympics in Sydney, Australia.
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Infamous "Team Eugene" member Jason Bates took home $500 by claiming the
men's pro crown, edging out Gavere and Coleman in the finals. As for the Women, it
was Shannon Carrol edging out Polly green for the pro women's title.
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With a immense field of over 200 athletes, the next two days of intense competition
was riddled with contention. An all new judges system was utilized incorporating
playstation control pads (with the four buttons) adapted for the technical judges point
system. This test run of the innovative new system was backed up by the traditional
manual tallying system. Unfortunately, despite this technology the official U.S. team
in the men’s K-1 and C-1 classes where announced with errors during the
semi-finals (when the field was cut from 16 to 8 competitors or 8 to 4 respectively),
and the awards ceremony was concluded with these mistakes. Subsequently, after
all the scores where re-tallied manually, one athlete from each class was booted off
the US team, and replaced with someone who hadn’t made the semi-finals cut and
didn’t get a chance to take their final rides (for money and NOWR/ RiversLiv point
series points). The official decision was conveyed to me at 10:00pm, in the middle of
the concluding Red-Bull party Saturday night, where just moments before four
athletes were hauled off by an over zealous police force for disorderly conduct.
Hopefully, next year the organizers can find a good solution to exclude this imposing
bunch of law enforcement from a nonviolent festival of paddlers.
A weekend difficult to swallow for many, the 2000 Ocoee whitewater festival will
serve as an educational experience for organizers and athletes alike. However, one
must thank all the organizers, and volunteers who spent countless hours doing their
best to make it happen. And a big shout out to those who persevered through the
competition to qualify for the 2000 U.S. whitewater freestyle team.
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"June is typically high water time in Idaho and is more accommodating to freestyle
paddlers," event organizer Sam Goff said. "In past years the July event has had an
awesome slalom turnout but a crappy freestyle turnout."
Last year the Roundup was held in June and over two-hundred freestylers turned
out for the rodeo. Unfortunately, because of the huge water, the slalom event
suffered. So instead of choosing one date or the other Goff and other Idaho
whitewater gurus came to a compromise with Idaho Rivers United, a protector of
Idaho Rivers and beneficiary of the event. The solution helped both groups in the
end as IRU now has a second fundraiser to support their environmental cause and
the freestyle paddlers can have a quality competition site , not to mention an extra
party.
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This weekend's Bob's Hole Rodeo on the Clackamas is the largest and longest
running competition of the series and sunny weather is helping draw the largest
crowd of participants and spectators of the seven-event competition, which includes
two rodeos, a surf competition at the Oregon Coast, an extreme downriver race and
a freestyle event off a waterfall on the East Fork of the Lewis. Tune in here later this
week for a full report of the Oregon Cup, with results from each event.
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Wave Sport paddlers Jimmy Blakeney and Brooke Winger took the early lead by
winning at Rock Island, Tenn. Rounding out the top five for the men at Rock Island
were Dan Gavere, Dave Garringer, Shane Benedict and Jason Bates. For the
women, it was Deb Ruhle taking second, followed by Kelly Liles, Aleta Miller and
Erica Mitchell.
At the Watauga the following weekend it was Jay Kincaid taking first for the men,
followed by Brian Milller, B J Johnson, Brent Meadow and Jimmy Blakeney. The top
three women finishers were Anne Chamberlain, Kelly Liles and Anna LeVesque.
Clay Wright and Deb Ruehle won the downriver race.
A surprise men’s winner the final weekend at Nolichucky was 17-year-old Andre
Spino Smith, who was followed by Javid Grubbs, Shane Benedict and Keith Liles.
The womens division was won by Erica Mitchell, followed by Polly Green and
Brooke Winger.
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Rounding out the top five for the men was Dan Gavere, Dave Garringer, Shane
Benedict and Jason Bates. For the women, it was Deb Ruhle taking second,
followed by Kelly Liles, Aleta Miller and Erica Mitchell. Keep checking breaking news
for the latest on the I.R. and other rodeo events throughout the season.
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