ON A MID WINTER PADDLE

                  The time to relax is when you don't have time for it. -- Sydney Harris

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. I tell myself over and over again as I start my paddle across the lake. Open up and relax your body. Settle into the seat of the kayak. I have to keep reminding myself as I paddle out of the lagoon at Lake Natoma's Nimbus Flats. At the same, I keep the pressure on the footpegs and the knee braces with each stroke of my paddle. One foot relaxes while the other pushes, and the alternate like climbing up some stairs. And breathe again.

Many paddlers start out tense and stiff as they recognize their instability on the water just a few inches away. As a fellow paddler, Daniel Fox wrote, "Kayaking is my intimate relationship with water. I feel vulnerable and at the water's mercy. Sitting in a boat, only millimeters of carbon and fiberglass keeping me dry and protected, I am connected to the forces at play."

It has been a few weeks since I have even been in my kayak, and I feel a bit nervous getting out on the water again. Maybe even a bit rusty. My Prijon Barracuda, just shy of 17-feet, is a sleek and fast boat. But it always feels a bit tippy on entry. It can have a bit of an ornery nature. So there is a learning curve to adjust to it. Breath and relax, I say to myself again. Trust the boat. Feel its secondary stability. Now settle into the seat. Loosen up those hands. Believe in yourself.

Halfway across the lake, I'm in the zone. The right frame of mind. Another deep breath and another big sweep of the paddle. The feeling of worry and anxiety is lifted away like the morning fog on the lake.

It has been raining here. Not as much as we need, but enough that the lake is sitting very high, indeed. It will be easy to get back into the sloughs and the tiny little bays of the lake. Some think damp and cold don't make for great kayaking conditions, but with the right gear such as dry pants, spray skirts, and splash jackets, the weather is only a state of mind.

I turn my kayak into the still water of the lake's backwaters. It's a network of flooded channels and canals of the riparian landscape. Often explored when the lake is high. A safe haven of sorts. It's out of the wind and out of sight to many. In the wintertime, the water is just so crystal clear. Unlike most summer days, I can easily see into the depths of water. I can make out the rocks, tree branches, and even a passing swimming turtle as if they were my own giant aquarium. The translucency of the waters is so much better in the winter than in the summer heat when it's filled with algae, green weeds, and murky water.

There is no wind and little other sounds except the waterfowl. Rounding another watery corner, I spot a couple of Mergansers diving into shallows. Nearby a majestic Snowy Egret is almost glowing against the green foliage of the slough. In the distance, a few wood ducks do their best to skirt away from my oncoming kayak, while the year-round residents of Canadian Geese pay me little attention except for some loud honking when I get a bit too close.

I drink in the morning on the lake and breath in the silent peacefulness of the slough. I remember chief officer Scotty from the 1960 TV series Star Trek. He was always able to get the Star Ship Enterprise going when something went wrong. All he needed was more time to get things done. This morning on the tranquil water, unlike Scotty, I need more time to do nothing except sit in the solace of my kayak watching wetland birds and creatures.
With a busy life and a lack of daytime hours to enjoy the water, my paddling can seem like a two-minute drill before running off to my wintertime jobs. I catch myself thinking about work schedules and looming deadlines. I check the clock on my phone.

Author A.A. Milne wrote, "Don’t underestimate the value of doing nothing, of just going along, listening to all the things you can’t hear, and not bothering.”
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. I tell myself again. I have time. I veer my kayak around again for another tour through the refuge of the slough.

 

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OVER THE BOW: THE OLD SALMON FALLS BRIDGE & SOUTH FORK OF THE AMERICAN RIVER

Adventures are never fun while you're having them --- C. S. Lewis

I called it, The In Search of the Old Salmon Falls Bridge Paddle for a Bayside Adventure Sports paddling event last weekend. You see, when the Folsom Reservoir. is low, one can easily find the old bridge that dates back to the Gold Rush days of California.
Just the year before, I put in just off the Salmon Falls Road at the Skunk Hollow and paddled to and back with ease, to the only remnant left behind from the washed away gold mining town of Salmon Falls. Built-in 1925, the bridge is now dubbed Hidden Bridge because it's usually covered over by the lake due to the construction of Folsom Dam in the 1950s.

Surely it would be the same type of adventure for the active Sacramento faith-based outdoor group that I help lead. After all, a storm system swept through the Sierra Nevada earlier in the week dropping several feet of snow throughout the region, according to the National Weather Service. The Lake Tahoe area recorded as much as 7 feet of snow in parts. Indeed some of that extra rain had to find a way to bolster up the lake after an extremely dry fall.
“The state has experienced a series of storms over the last couple of weeks that brought a significant amount of rain and snow,” said Sean de Guzman, the Department of Water Resources, at a news conference. “However these storms were not nearly enough to make up the deficit we’ve accumulated over the last few months.”

If I only would have known. However, I misjudged the water levels totally. As William Van Der Ven wrote in his "Up the Lake with A Paddle' series, the reservoir's water level determines the extent of paddling trips on the lake.
"The low water level brings back the flow in the old river channel, " Van Der Ven writes, "This, in turn, creates a current that becomes extremely difficult to negotiate above old Salmon Falls Bridge. At extreme low water levels, the old river channel is exposed even below the old bridge, thus creating the same difficulty with the strong current."

The South Fork of the American River tumbles over a rocky slope just below the new Salmon Falls Bridge. It is the usual take out spot for rafters and kayakers after running the river's popular whitewater section. Usually bustling with buses, rafts, and kayaks on any hot summer, but on this quiet weekend morning in February, we had the place to ourselves.
It was a long walk down the grade to the water. My crew used kayak carts to portage their boats to the water. Looking downstream, I was hopeful the river would converge with the lake to make it an easy paddle upstream. But it was not to be.

The stream pushed us along quickly. We bounced over rocks and ran down the rivers flumes. Before long, we caught sight of the old Salmon Falls Bridge looming ahead. Built and rebuilt three times, the bridge is one of only a handful of remains of the old town named after a nearby waterfall, now covered by the lake. The seemly out of place monolith spanned over the river channel as it drew a crowd of weekend explorers and hikers to traverse it once again.

We beached our boats just underneath the old bridge realizing that we were at the end of the paddling portion of the trip and would have to hike out. That's is kayaking someday. We hiked back to our cars and trucks, leaving our boats to portage out for there. On our return, we portaged our boats back up the hill at the access of the Old Salmon Falls Bridge Day Use Area.

WASHINGTON BILL THAT WOULD IMPOSE NEW SAFETY RULES FOR KAYAKS

In Washington state, a House bill has been floated that backers say would increase safety for anyone using a kayak, canoe, or paddleboard has been making waves among water sport enthusiasts.

Applying the same rules the state implements in operating motorboats, the bill would require anyone renting or buying a paddle-operated vessel to take a boating safety course, pass an exam, and purchase a boater education card for $10. In the bill, anyone without a boater education card in their possession would be subject to a violation. The penalty would be waived if the boater provided proof to the court within 60 days that they received a boater education card.

“We are fifth in the nation for boating safety fatalities," the bill's sponsor Rep. John Lovick told MY Northwest, "If we’re having so many fatalities on the water, we should do something about that. The idea behind it, to make sure that people get the training that they need, get the education they need to stay safe on the water.”
A former Coast Guard member, Lovick says in 2020, 13 people statewide died paddle-sports related accidents.

Despite safety concerns, an effort is underway to sink the bill. Thousands have signed a petition encouraging the Washington Legislature to "say no" to a bill, saying the requirements would "create unnecessary burdens on Washington residents in ways that will make it more difficult for lower-income individuals to participate."

Scott Holley, president of Eddyline Kayaks, is leading the petition drive. He says that the measure will limit access to the water for lower-income paddlers and discourage folks from renting paddle crafts. So far, more than 15,000 people have signed a Change.org petition against the bill.

“Because of the availability of low-cost rental and purchase options, it really is accessible to people with a lower income,” he told MY Northwest, “Our worry is that putting potentially expensive license and registration processes in place, along with having to purchase a card, is going to disproportionately impact lower-income participants."

House Bill 1018, which was introduced last month has since been referred to the Committee on Community and Economic Development.

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