PARADE OF PADDLING

Has I'm writing this on New Year's Eve, rain is beating down on my rooftop, pelting the window and creating hundreds of small rivers along the hillside of my home. Weather forecasters say that a significant storm system will plow into the West Coast, bringing heavy rain, mountain snow, and strong winds fueled by an atmospheric river of Pacific moisture. An atmospheric river is a long narrow region in the atmosphere that can transport moisture thousands of miles, like a fire hose in the sky. Forecasters say this active jet stream pattern will continue to bring a parade of storms across much of Northern and Central California this weekend.
As 2022 comes to an end. It's time to look back on a parade of paddling memories and leap forward in planning new adventures. And as the rain hits the windowpane, I'll take that as a good sign we might have more water this year than last. At least, that is my hope.

I send a big thanks out to my paddling family for helping me paddle through another year. Thanks to Dan Crandall and the other superstars on Current Adventures Kayaking School and Trips, who have been there for guidance and encouragement. We have some big plans for 2023. I'm looking forward to a full schedule of classes, tours, and moonlit paddles.
To the rangers and staff of Sly Park Recreation Area, thank you. I hope for another successful season on shimmering Lake Jenkinson this year, with more water.

I lost count of my paddling events with Bayside Adventure Sports this past year. The highlights of our year included our annual Lower American River run, our camping kayaking trip to Loon Lake, and our popular sunset and moonlit paddles on our area's lakes. Of course, none of it would have been possible without our leader, John Taylor Sure, I had some great ideas, but John made it happen.
We are losing our spiritual leader Greg Weisman the longtime founder of Bayside Adventure Sports. He will be retiring in 2023.

My wife, Debbie, is and will always be my guiding light and inspiration. She has a deep devotion to God and a love for everything, living both great and small, like the starving kitten that found its way to our doorstep and our neighborhood deer herd. I continue to strive to be like her in mind and spirit. We are both excited about landscaping our new home.

Happy New Year everyone.

Paddle Day #148

I paddled close to my record of 152 paddling days in the calendar year. I did get to some new places and enjoyed some of the old ones. I'm eagerly anticipating an exciting new year in 2023.

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2022 IN REVIEW: PICTURES OF THE YEAR

Gaily bedlight, A gallant knight, in sunshine and in shadows had journeyed long, singing a song, in search of Eldorado --- Edgar Allan Poe

The picturesque Coloma river valley is stunning with beauty and steep in history. It was there, not far from where I slid my kayak in the churning flow of the South Fork of the American River, it all happened.

The quirky and rather odd John Marshall had a scheme about getting a sawmill going on the banks of the river for the much-needed lumber for the influx of new settlers coming to California. Financially funded by John Sutter, Marshall was constructing the mill in the Coloma Valley. By January 1848, workers had erected a building, installed the machinery and a water wheel, and dug a ditch to divert water from the river. Inspecting the work, Marshall peered down into the trail trace through a foot of water. If there would have been a camera there to record it, this is what we would have done seen.

"My eye caught a glimpse of something shining in the bottom of the ditch," Marshall gave a historical account, "I reached my hand down and picked it up; it made my heart thump, for I was certain it was gold."

 

Lake Jenkinson

And as the story goes, after he found those flakes precious metal of metal, it ushered in a wave of steely-eyed prospectors. Along with them came adventurous storytelling photographers ready to capture the historic frenzy around them. The Gold Rush was the first event in the country to be documented extensively through the then-new medium of photography.

Using daguerreotypes, an early photographic process employing an iodine-sensitized silvered plate and mercury vapor. Photographers would polish a sheet of silver-plated copper to a mirror finish, treat it with fumes that made its surface light-sensitive, and expose it in a camera for as long as it was judged to be necessary. It could be as little as a few seconds for brightly sunlit subjects or much longer for regarding the light; removed its sensitivity to light by liquid chemical treatment; rinsed and dried, and then sealed the easily marred result behind glass in a protective enclosure.

The photographers would travel about in wagons/studios, taking portraits of the miners young and old, holding the tools of their trade, a shovel, a pick, a pan. Some would even show off their precious nuggets or flakes of gold. They would show the men working as they dug away at the earth, searching for Mother Lode.

Lake Jenkinson & Sly Park Paddle Rentals

Their images were also the first to detail the environmental damage inflicted on the landscape.
Pictures show men digging away with shovels and building scaffolds in large mining operations that upheave the earth and ripped away hillsides.
The first prospectors worked their claims manually with pans and picks. But, as more arrived, the miners took to diverting entire rivers and using high-pressure jets of water to dislodge rock material or move sediment to speed up their excavations. This caused a devastating effect on the riparian natural countryside. Long after the hype for gold subsided, much of the environmental damage of this form of mining still lasts to this day.  

  

Lake Clementine & Robber's Roost

Their haunting images captured historic people and places I now call home. As I document my paddling adventures, it's a bit easier with our cell phone technology. I only hope that can create the same excitement of the Gold Rush. So as 2022 draws to a close, let's look back at some of my favorite images from this past year. 

Great American Triathlon training with Current Adventures 

  

Bayside Adventure Sports at Loon Lake

John Taylor at Sly Park 

The annual Glow Paddle on Lake Natoma

       

Salmon on the Lower American River

Kayaking with Current Adventures on Lake Natoma

The Sacramento River with Bayside Adventure Sports

Debbie Carlson at Yosemite 

Sly Park Paddle Rentals 

   

Our new home in Placerville, California

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KAYAK SUMMER 2022

It is the glistening autumnal side of summer. I feel a cool vein in the breeze, which braces my thought, and I pass with pleasure over sheltered and sunny portions of the sand where the summer's heat is undiminished, and I realize what a friend I am losing. --- Henry David Thoreau

We were lying on a white granite beach on a high Serria lakeshore staring up into the cosmos. Campfires were prohibited, and rightly so. So, the stars blazing in the sky were our only source of light since the full moon had leaped over the peaks of the mountains just yet. We were waiting for meteors to streak across the sky when someone mentioned Elan Musk's Starlink. It's a satellite internet constellation operated by SpaceX, providing satellite Internet access coverage to 40 countries around the world. Starlink now boasts well over 2,000 functional satellites orbiting overhead.

Sly Park Paddle Rentals 

Moments later, the strange moving chain of bright dots resembling a brilliant caravan of lights traveled from west to east across the sky. I tried to count the number of the bright lights but quickly lost count as they moved in succession across the sky. Lasting a few minutes, it was like a freight train rolling by and heading off to some faraway place. And then it was gone. The progression of satellites was a quick and stunning display. And then disappeared into the sky.

My summer was like that too. It's a very fast succession of days that dwindles at the dawn of autumn. Now once again, I'm saying goodbye to my well-spent summer days.

When my wife, Debbie, and I moved from Fair Oaks to Placerville, California, last May, it brought me much closer to the proximity of Sly Park and the South Fork of the American River.
Sly Park and Lake Jenkinson were a given since I was once again working the boathouse for Sly Park Paddle Rentals for my fifth year in a row. My weekends were filled with a steady dose of canoeing, kayaking, and swimming. And to think I'm lucky enough to be getting paid for it.
On the South Fork, on the other hand, I only got to cross the Highway 94 bridge. Like a lot of paddlers, I look over the bridge while driving over it to check out the current and see if I see any boats or anyone I know. And wish I was there. It didn't matter if the flow was high or low. I wanted to go. The South Fork whitewater will have to wait a while longer.

GAT training with Current Adventures 

They had been waiting for a long-time to be racing on the Lower American River. After a Covid-related shutdown for the past two summers, the Great American Triathlon race and our training resumed with Current Adventures. Dan Crandall and I showed the racers for the racers the best lines for the kayaking section run down the American River through San Juan Rapids. Win or just participate, our paddlers rocked their evening training sessions. By all reports, they rocked it on race day.

My summers wouldn't be summer without our Annual trips to Loon Lake and down the Sacramento River with Bayside Adventure Sports. Our jewel is Loon Lake on the east side of the Sierra Nevada. A scenic vista along the entire lake. It has picturesque mountain views and splendid emerald color waters surrounded by white granite boulders, laced with Sierra junipers growing on tops and ridges and in the splits between the glacier pavements of granite. My paddling partner john Taylor and I spent the whole week there leading two different groups during August. Our paddlers never know how valuable these quiet places are until they paddled into them for a few days.

 

Loon Lake with Bayside Adventure Sports

Our Sacramento River weekend trip near Red Bluff, California, finished my summer season just last weekend. The highlight was seeing Lassen Peak, one of the largest domed volcanoes in the world, as a backdrop for our fast river run.

Sandwiched in between, I paddled throughout the summer, trying to squeeze every drop out of our summer I could.

 

Lake Jenkinson & The Boathouse

"Suddenly, I experienced the feeling of longing, longing for the canyon. It was almost as if we left something back there." Recalled adventure paddler Andrzej Pietowski when describing the fleeting moments of looking back into Peru's Colca Canyon, the deepest on earth, after making its first descent down it, "Something viable, breathing, some small but living part of ourselves. The longing has remained with me ever since."
Summer 2022 is over. It's time to officially remember what day of the week it is. I do look back, longing for more of it. I feel like I left part of myself behind. I feel like I left something out.
And now, as we hurtle ourselves toward another autumn, I reflect on that high Sierra beach watching Starlink satellites trek across. Just like them, summer might be gone, but memories still flicker.

Here is a look at some of my favorite images from this past summer.

The Sacramento River with Bayside Adventure Sports 

Lake Natoma 

The Lower American River 

Shore dinner at Loon Lake 

GAT training on Lower American River 

Lake Jenkinson

The Lower American River 

Lake Jenkinson 

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A WEEK IN THE SIERRA PART II

By far the greatest of all these ranges is the Sierra Nevada, a long and massive uplift lying between the arid deserts of the Great Basin and the Californian exuberance of grain-field and orchard; its eastern slope, a defiant wall of rock plunging abruptly down to the plain; the western, a long, grand sweep. Well-watered and overgrown with cool, stately forests; its crest a line of sharp, snowy peaks springing into the sky and catching the alpenglow long after the sun has set for all the rest of America. --- Clarence King

Each morning I'd peel open my tent fly and look out over the stillness of Pleasant Lake. I was at the far end of the peninsula on a flat spot, a stone's throw from a small cove less than a hundred yards wide. It was an easy swim back and forth, that I had done the day before. On the other side, a granite white and grey wall rise out of the water. The fissures and cracks in it made it look like a high-rise apartment. Its mirrored reflection in the water doubled its size. In the shadows of the morning, the wall appeared to glow.
The sun hadn't peaked over the ridge of Sierra just yet. The moon was fading into the western skies. My tent inhaled the cool dawn air as I climbed out of the tangle of my sleeping bags and put on my pullover and stocking hat.
I had the same feeling that naturalist John Muir described best on a July day in his book My First Summer in the Sierra, "Exhilarated with the mountain air, I feel like shouting this morning with excess of wild animal joy."
 

Paddling Pleasant Lake

It's a bit too early for shouting. Whispers were more in order, as I zigzagged through the brush and the hardier little Sierra Junipers trees and leaping sagebrush lizards to our Bayside Adventure Sports campsite. Where I found John Taylor already boiling a kettle of water. Nothing better to start the day than with a little pore over coffee. We've been bringing these faith-based groups from Bayside Adventure Sports for a week of outback camping to Loon Lake in the Crystal Basin Recreation Area for five years. As Muir put it so elegantly and simply, "And into the forest, I go, to lose my mind and find my soul.” Our participants always return to the flatlands, refreshed and recharged.

Paddling along the granite shore of the lake

Throughout the week, during morning and sunset paddles on the upper part of Pleasant Lake, we'd explore the narrow coves, bays, and polished granite formations. Paddling here, one can see the mountains' history, through the stories left behind in the rock.

When Padre Pedro Font named the Sierra Nevada Mountains in 1776, they had already been around for a long, long time. The ice- and snow-covered sharp saw-bladed peaks, the Spanish padre, saw had begun forming under the ocean about 100 million years ago. Beneath the surface of the earth, the granitic rocks formed from molten rock that gradually solidified. Powerful geological forces then gradually forced the landmass up under the waters of the Pacific Ocean and below an advancing North American continent. As a result, plumes of plutonic rock were pushed up towards the surface, and sheets of lava poured down the slopes of volcanic chimneys rising to the surface.

 
  

Exploring the many coves of the lake

About 50 million later, the volcanoes were extinct. The erosive agents like wind, rain, and frost ate away the softer sediments exposing the salt-and-pepper speckled Granitic rocks containing minerals including quartz, feldspars, and micas.

As the world grew colder, beginning about 2 or 3 million years ago, the Sierra Nevada mountains were coated with an extensive thick mantle of ice. It covered much of the higher altitudes and sent massive ice-crawling glaciers down its valleys. The glacial ice quarried loosed and transported vast volumes of rubble along the way, scouring and transforming the landscape that we see today.

Paddling by the polish white granite boulders, it's easy to see the evidence of the path of the last glacier. Deep grooves are carved into the rock, and erratic and huge slabs of rock are left behind and out of place in a natural balancing act. To our delight, flat smooth polished boulders at the water's edge are perfect for sunbathing and drying off on a hot day after jumping into the cool lake.
 

At sunset the mountains of the Sierra glow red 

Only the bravest trees succeed in the summit crags along the lake, despite struggling against the wind and snow. We see the Sierra junipers growing on tops and ridges and in the splits between the glacier pavements of granite. Muir called them a sturdy highlander, "Seemingly content to live for more than a score of centuries on sunshine and snow...Surely the most enduring of all the tree mountaineers, it never seems to die a natural death."
Nestled in these trees and granite walls of the Sierra are these man-made reservoirs like Loon Lake and Pleasant Lake. After years of construction, they are part of the mountain landscape. These once meadows, canyons, and riverbeds are now glimmering lakes ready to explore and make part of a new history.

On our evening trek around the lake, we were able to paddle into a picturesque pond filled with blooming water lilies protected by steep walls on all three sides. It was only because the water level was still higher than normal this time of year that we were able to see the beautiful yellow flowers in all their glory in our kayaks.

  

A hidden coves reveals blooming water lilies

We paddled back to our camp in the twilight. The sky was ablaze with brilliant golden skies and orange-tinted mountains.
Back at camp, we lay on our backs staring up at the star-filled sky just as Muir did over a century ago. "How hard to realize that every camp of men or beast has this glorious starry firmament for a roof! In such places standing alone on the mountain-top, it is easy to realize that whatever special nests we make leaves and moss-like the marmots and birds, or tents or piled stone," wrote Muir, " " We all dwell in a house of one room – the world with the firmament for its roof and are sailing the celestial spaces without leaving any track.”

At 6,378 feet, we had no trouble seeing the heavens. We were dazzled by the Starlink satellites, a moving train of bright dots traveling across the sky. Blown away by an amazing streaking meteor that burned across the sky, from horizon to horizon, and later overwhelmed by the full moon rising over the silhouetted mountain top. In my tent, I looked over the lake as moonbeams glimmered off the still water before pulling down the fly. In the distant coyotes howling at the moon, I'm sure, with pure wild animal joy.

 

A beautiful sunset ends the day on Pleasant Lake

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A WEEK IN THE SIERRA PART I

I should be content forever. Bathed in such beauty, watching the expressions ever varying on the faces of the mountains, watching the stars, which here have a glory that the lowlander never dreams of, watching the circling seasons, listening to the songs of the water and winds and birds, would be endless pleasure.  John Muir

In 1868 a 30-year-old student of geology and botany with a deep affection for the natural world around him inspired by the likes of Emerson and Thoreau wandered into the Sierra Nevada Mountains. He wasn't the first by far. Native Americans, explorers, and fortune hunters had been traveling throughout the narrow range in California's mountains for centuries. He would spend much of the next ten years exploring those mountains. He recorded his thoughts on his beloved mountains in journals publishing nearly 100 essays and articles for newspapers and magazines. His passion for the wilderness would inspire the creation of Yosemite National Park, found the Sierra Club, and set off a worldwide environmental movement that continues to this day. 

Getting ready to paddle Loon Lake

 John Muir is one of California’s most important historical personalities. The famous naturalist is synonymous with Sierra Nevada Mountains. Trails, wilderness areas, schools, parks, roads, and monuments, bare his name. A prolific writer, Muir's words describing still echo from the mountain tops,
"The Mountains are calling, and I must go," is one of his most famous quotes. It's a powerful call that many can relate to. It's the simple notion of the need to be outside, away from the confines of the world, enjoying the calm and splendor of nature.

At least, that is what I had in mind when I brought groups from Bayside Adventure Sports up for a week of outback camping to Loon Lake in the Crystal Basin Recreation Area. The mountains are calling. But throw in high a Sierra pristine blue lake, textured granite shores, starry nights, and awe-inspiring views, it's a perfect venue for kayak camping, offering a Muir-like setting for solitude and tranquility.
Sitting about 100 feet higher than Lake Tahoe at 6,378 feet, Loon Lake is nestled on the western slopes of the Sierra Nevada Mountains in the Eldorado National Forest. It's not as large as Lake Tahoe, covering some 600 acres, and is about 5 miles long from end to end. Before the dam blocking Gerle Creek was completed back in the 1960s, a narrow ridge at the bend separated Loon Lake from its sister Pleasant Lake but the one now in the shape of an upside-down boot. The lake can easily be paddled in a day. It's even better for an extended along the lake shore camping trip.
 

Rounding the elbow of the two lakes

Just getting here has been a bit challenging. But we're in a wild place now. I reminded the people coming with me to put their phones on airplane mode while loading up at the south access. They wouldn't be finding any bars on their phone anywhere. There are no amenities at all. The nearest store is about 20 miles away. One would have to go further to find any gas or services. When you come to Loon Lake, it's because, you really want to be here and escape everything else.

It was still early in the day. Gentle swells bounded over the lake when we all got on the water. It's common in the afternoon for the fetch to pick up with southwesterly winds creating tiring and dicey waves at the far east end of the lake. Going out is great with the wind at one's back. Coming back, however, can be challenging in the wind-prone choppy waters.

 

John Taylor and a loaded canoe

Aiming for the far mountains to the east, I point out Brown Mountain south of the lake to my group of paddlers. I told them that when I first started coming there with Current Adventures, it always had snow on its top. I could remember feeling excited about being able to kayak with snowcapped mountains in view in August. However, in the last couple of years, the snow is no more. Drought and heat have made it tough on the year around the beauty of the mountains. Scientists warn someday, there might not be any snow in the Sierra as things warm up.

An early advocate for the preservation of wilderness, Muir did his best to hold off reckless exploitation of our natural resources by loggers, miners, am builders. He referred to the wilderness as "places for rest, inspiration, and prayers." He never had to think about global warming and climatic change back. Back then, the world was setting the stage for global warming as industrial nations were just beginning to ramp up the use of fossil fuels at the expense of our atmosphere. It's people now like Greta Thunberg who taking up Muir's fight not just for the wilderness but for the future of the planet.

The lake is really high this year. So high we would be able to get into coves and bays, I've never been able to explore by kayak. Usually, they are high and dry this time of year. We paddle toward the Buck Island Lake Tunnel, a four-mile underground aqueduct starting at Lake Buck Horn and ending at Loon Lake. It's part of the Upper American River Project bringing water and hydroelectric power to the valley.

It's a massive tunnel that I've seen at all stages of the lake's levels. I've paddled in it before using a headlamp for light to guide myself along the cavernous way. One extremely dry year, I climbed up to it and walked into the darkness of the tunnel big enough for a railroad locomotive. And like I said, with the lake this high, the entrance is only marked by the tunnel's warning sign, everything else is underwater.

Finally, the wind and waves come to end after getting around the lake's elbow as we paddled into the calmer and protected Pleasant Lake section of the lake. It lives up to its name after paddling along the wind-prone Loon. The water turns placid and quiet, and time here begins to slow.
 

Brown Mountain and Pleasant Lake

"Another glorious Sierra day in which one seems to be dissolved and absorbed and sent pulsing onward we know not where. Life seems neither long nor short, and we take no more heed to save time or make haste than do the trees and stars. This is true freedom." wrote Muir in My First Summer in the Sierra.

Our camping site is in view now. A great spot adjacent to the boat-in camping sites. A cove to land our kayaks and canoes, plenty of space to set our tents, and gorgeous scenery in all directions of the lake, forests, mountains, skies, and fresh air surrounding us.

Muir said, "Going to the mountains is going home.”
As we beach the boats with Muir like exhilaration, I say this will be our home for the next week. I would be looking forward to every day, if not every minute of my week in the Sierra.

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OVER THE BOW: LAKE NATOMA

The first river you paddle runs through the rest of your life. It bubbles up in pools and eddies to remind you who you are. — Lynn Culbreath Noel

I have started off my paddling year on Lake Natoma many times in the past several years. Most recently, with the faith-based group Bayside Adventure Sports for this past weekend's annual Polar Bear Paddle. It was our sixth annual, it what has become a New Year's Day tradition.
It makes sense that Lake Natoma would kick off my so-called paddling calendar year. Located just blocks away from home, it is an easy jump to the lake.
As part of California's state park system, the lake has become more and more popular as the post-Covid pandemic paddling crazes continue to draw more folks to the water.
No doubt about it Lake Natoma is a paddler's favorite, with its nearly five miles of easy flat water nestled between Folsom Reservoir and Nimbus Dam, before flowing once again as American River toward its confluence with the Sacramento River some 20 miles away through the heart of the Sacramento urban area. The lake has three access points. One at each end of the lake and one in the middle.
On hot summer days, the accesses are oftentimes crowded with folks trying to escape the heat, but in January, they're left to only a few hardy ones.

Yep, I have started off my paddling calendar year here many times before, always shirking off the idea, it's just too cold to paddle in the winter.
Come on, folks! I tell them we live in California, where winter is only in the mountains. Back in my Minnesota paddling days, we locked our boats away dreaming of the day the ice would crack. I couldn't even consider taking a boat out, since all the rivers and lakes were frozen over. There I had to wait till spring. Which in January was a long way away.
I had been living in North Dakota a long time and never dreamed of paddling my newly discovered outlet in the winter. As canoe legend Bill Mason, said about those incurably hooked on paddling in the Northern tier, "You must also face the fact that every fall about freeze-up time you go through a withdrawal period as you watch the lakes and rivers icing over one by one. Cross-country skiing and snowshoeing can help a little to ease the pain, but they won’t guarantee a complete cure."

In 2013, I was in a long-distance relationship with Debbie, who, along with her beautiful brown eyes and smile, kept tempting me to come to visit California with pictures of the American River and Lake Natoma. She knew my weakness. How could I turn down such an offer in the middle of North Dakota winter?
In her quest to ensure I would have an enjoyable time; she scheduled several trips and activities. Two Sacramento Kings basketball games, a trip to Coloma to see the South Fork, and a drive up to Lake Tahoe. But before we could do any of that, we had to paddle on Lake Natoma.
Like tourists, we rented a tandem sit on top from Sacramento Aquatic Center on a chilly morning and set off across the lake.

 
"The water is clear and flat," I wrote in my paddling journal, "We're right above the dam over the American River. We have the lake pretty much to ourselves. Debbie sits in the back to steer. I told her the guy in front is the power as we move across the lake with ease."

We went on to discover the sloughs and back ponds that I still enjoy visiting today on the lake.

Since moving to California, I have paddled across Lake Natoma, now more times than I can count with groups, classes, solo, and countless more times with Debbie.
So, as I kick off my paddling year, I remember a quote by suspense novelist Karen Katchur, "The water. The lake. It flows through our veins, and there’s nothing we can do about it… It’s like venom.”

Over the Bow is a feature from Outside Adventure to the Max, telling the story behind the image. If you have a great picture with a great story, submit it to us at nickayak@gmail.com
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AULD LANG SYNE

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And auld lang syne.

The old Scottish song 'Auld Lang Syne' will usher in the new year again, as it sang all over the world at the stroke of twelve on New Year's Eve. The phrase Auld Lang Syne translated means, for old times' sake. The song evokes the spirit of friendship over the past year and raises hopes for a brighter future in the new year.
Let's hope so. I do not have to tell anyone, but 2021 was pretty rough for many. The Covid-19 pandemic continues to linger. The highly contagious Omicron variant is only making it worse, as the average number of daily US Covid-19 cases are reaching new pandemic highs during the holidays. Dr. Anthony Fauci suggests that people opt for smaller gatherings with vaccinated and boosted family and friends rather than attending large-scale New Year’s Eve celebrations.
For some of us, we will be outside enjoying an end-of-year kayak tour on the lake or kicking off the year in style on a Polar Bear paddling event. Just obey the same rules as last year. Socially distances, wear a max and stay safe.

After a year of extreme drought that triggered water shortages and stoked wildfires, rain and heavy snows are falling over Northern California. This past week nearly 17 feet of snow has fallen over the Lake Tahoe area breaking decades-old records as the snowiest December on record. Roads were closed, ski resorts were shut down, and avalanche warnings were issued as the Tahoe Basin was buried in much-needed snow.
And what a difference a few storms make! After more than a year of being well-below average, water levels at Folsom Lake are filling up at a rate of enough water to fill 400 backyard swimming pools every minute. That's a lot of water. So much so, that even though the reservoir is just above half-filled, the Bureau of Reclamation is releasing water from it. Dam officials say that with more storms are coming the water level is near the maximum allowed at this time of year for flood protection. The water is flowing through Nimbus Dam and downstream. The releases will raise river levels on the American River Parkway. While the release will have a minor impact, people venturing out onto the river should beware.

As 2021 now comes to an end, it's time to look back at all our paddling memories and leap forward in planning new adventures. And as the rain hits my window, I'll take that as a good sign we might have more water this year than last. At least, that is my hope.
One of the side effects of the pandemic has been the explosion of participants in paddling sports. The numbers have swelled as people have flocked to the waterways to escape the constraints of the global coronavirus pandemic.
From us old veterans, we say welcome. The paddling community is here for you. We will look forward to helping you and inspiring you as you continue paddling the rivers and lakes.  

Paddle Day #107
I paddled not even close to my record of 152 paddling days in the calendar year. But I did get to some new places and enjoyed some of the old ones. I started on California's Lake Natoma with Bayside Adventure Sports and finished the year with them as well on Lake Natoma. Without a doubt, I'm looking forward to leaving 2021 behind while eagerly anticipating an exciting new year in 2022.

                                And here's a hand my trusty friend

That gives a hand to thine

We'll take a cup of kindness yet

For auld lang syne

Happy New Year

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IT'S A WONDERFUL KAYAKING LIFE

Remember, George: no man is a failure who has friends. ---It's A Wonderful Life

It never surprises me that the kayak community is much like the fictional town of Bedford Falls in Jimmy Stewart's classic Christmas movie "It's a Wonderful Life". In the movie, Stewart's character George Bailey was at the end of his rope and, all seemed lost. But at the end of the film, he wasn't thrown just one lifeline, but instead, hundreds as his family and friends from the town rallied around him by donating more than enough money to cover the missing funds and pulling him out of the depths of despair. His brother raises his glass and toasts George as "the richest man in town" while he receives a book with a note reminding him that no man is a failure who has friends.

I think we've all been there. Certainly, I have. I can't remember all the times I have been helped out by others while kayaking on the river or lake. When I forgot my paddle, need a boat? No problem, someone came through. When I needed a bit of help loading or unloading, the same thing someone came through. Once, I didn't want to be a burden to the paddling group and watched my whitewater boat float away on an untimely swim when I even turned down the help. I can handle I said. Which was not the case. It didn't matter. The paddling friend ignored my plea and helped gather my boat and gear anyway. 

Kayaker Scott Lindgren, the subject of the documentary film, “The River Runner” was released on Netflix. It takes an up-close look at Lindgren's amazing career as one of the world's most premier whitewater kayakers and his raging first descents on the epic and burly waterways of the world. In his prime, no challenge was too great, no drop was too big.
But it also gives a portrait of a paddler struggling with substance abuse and later a brain tumor that would capsize his kayaking career for ten years.
During the movie, Lindgren found that while the river gave fury, it also offered healing. Next-generation paddler Aniol Serrasolses presented him with an opportunity he had been waiting his whole life for, a run down a Himalayan river known as the Indus. It would be the final chapter in Lindgren's epic quest of running the fabled four rivers of Western Tibet's Mount Kailash.

"The fact that Aniol would consider inviting an old broken-down boater into his world blew me away," wrote Lindgren in Outside Magazine, "He was offering me something I never would have offered anyone in my condition when I was his age."

In his months of training, Lindgren wrote how the younger paddlers rallied around offering help, encouragement, and but mostly hope.
"The kids didn’t just teach me how to kayak again, they helped me open my heart," wrote Lindgren in the article.

When doctors told him the tumor had grown, Lindgren had a decision. Resume treatment or continue training. He chose kayaking. He skipped radiation, canceled his doctor appointments, and channeled his energy for the Indus run.
After what he described as a white-knuckle week through massive mountain peaks and the equally massive river, Lindgren completed his life-long dream. Realizing that, he leaned forward and put his head on the deck of his boat and wept.
And like a Christmas movie, three days after returning from the trip, he went back to the hospital for an MRI and found that his tumor had stabilized and there was no growth. The river indeed had offered healing.

Lindgren's is just one of the many paddlers helped by other paddlers. There are countless more stories out there. Many paddlers and non-profit organizations provide support and opportunities to wounded veterans and other adaptive sports programs. There are paddling groups that encourage diversification on the water. They organize welcoming paddling events for people of color to expand our paddling community that has traditionally drawn primarily white participants. And other paddlers are volunteering in thousands of river or lake cleanups across the country to remove litter and debris from our waterways. As I have said before, everyone is a friend when they have a paddle in their hand.

"Everyone recognized that we’d all have good days and bad days, and that there no shame in scaling it back when we weren’t feeling 100 percent, physically or mentally," Lindgren offered this perspective in Outside Magazine article, "The approach helped me measure my kayaking—and my life—not in wins and losses, but in whether I showed up with an open heart. If I had a bad day, I told myself it was my turn for the universe to kick my ass. If I had a good day, I enjoyed the flow of life. It was all so simple."

This Christmas, I would like to send a big thanks out to my paddling family for helping me paddle through another year. Thanks to Dan Crandall and the other superstars on Current Adventures Kayaking School and Trips, who have been there for guidance and encouragement. I look forward to returning a 2022 schedule of classes, tours, and moonlit paddles.
To the rangers and staff of Sly Park Recreation Area, thank you. I certainly hope for another successful season on shimmering Lake Jenkinson this year, with more water and no forest fires.
I lost count of my paddling events with Bayside Adventure Sports this past year. The highlights of our year included our annual Lower American River run, our camping kayaking trip to Loon Lake, and our always popular sunset and moonlit paddles on our area's lakes. Of course, none of it would have been possible without our leaders, John Taylor and Randy Kizer. Sure, I had some great ideas, but those two made it happen. I have more trips and adventures planned for the upcoming year.
My wife, Debbie, is and will always be my guiding light and inspiration. She has a deep devotion to God and love for everything living both great and small, like the starving kitten that found its way to our doorstep. I continue to strive to be like her in mind and spirit. We are both excited about being grandparents now.

And I would like to thank our faithful readers of Outside Adventure to the Max. I hope the future is now brighter for you all.

Merry Christmas

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2021 IN REVIEW: PICTURES OF THE YEAR

Before we take to the sea, we walk on land ... Before we create, we must understand. --- Ernest Hemingway

 
Cruising on a Carnival Cruise through the Bahamas really isn't the type of cruise. I'm a river guy more used to trail mix, power bars, and Hydro Flask half full of water, not an endless buffet and a boat I don't have to paddle. Still, who can argue with luxury, exotic ports of calls, and an endless buffet line?

Carnival Cruise

In all of my paddling days, I've never have lost sight of land. So, it was interesting to be out on the upper deck of the giant ship looking over the bow into the vastness of the Atlantic Ocean. Clearly an overpowering feeling of aloneness. I could help to think of those intrepid paddlers that have braved these vast seas, like famed Polish adventurer Aleksander Doba against this giant ocean, alone. He made three daring voyages earned him Guinness World Records titles, and in 2017 he became the oldest person to kayak across the Atlantic. "During the entire expedition lasting 110 days and nights," said Doba in an interview, "I survived 5 storms. One of them was special. It was 8, 9, and 10 on the Beaufort scale. The waves went up to 10 m. I know that no one had survived a storm like that in such a small vessel ever before. I proved that a Pole can do it! I was happy I got to survive a storm like that, although it lasted over two days and nights, and it was not easy."

Walking along the sandy beaches of Bimini, our first port of call, was pretty cool. Bimini is the westernmost island of the Bahamas. Located about 50 miles east of Miami, Florida, it's the closest point of the Bahamas to the mainland of the United States.
It was a favorite haunt of legendary author Ernest Hemingway. An avid outdoorsman and adventurer, Hemingway lived on Bimini from 1935 to 1937. While living there, he enjoyed fishing the deep blue offshore waters for marlin, tuna, and swordfish. It was from those fishing days that inspired his classics works of The Old Man and the Sea and Islands in The Stream.
In the opening chapter of Islands in The Stream, he wrote this about Bimini, "The water of the Stream was usually a dark blue when you look out at it when there was no wind. But when you walked out into it, there was just the green light of the water over that floury white sand, and you could see the shadow of any big fish a long time before he could ever come in close to the beach."

Like Doba, Hemingway had an intense passion for daring exploits and was always in search of his next big adrenaline-fueled adventure. 

Tybee Island with KDK

And while for me, 2021 wasn't that dauntless, I did gain some new invaluable new perspectives and insights during my experiences while traveling on land, sea, rivers, and lakes.
This year, my wife Debbie and I did get to some new places. We took a trip to Cancun, Mexico, a cruise through the Bahamas to the Dominican Republic. Going coast to coast this year, we took another cruise and sailed along the Seattle skyline in Elliot Bay and took a walk along the beach with my granddaughter on Tybee Island in Georgia. In May, another big trip. On the way back from North Dakota to see family, we went cross-country. We traveled through the Black Hills of South Dakota and along the old Oregon and California trails on the way home.

While I have been living in California for almost nine years now, I still feel a bit like a tourist. There is so much to do and see in this state. I explored Slab Creek for the first time, saw a bit more of the Mokelumne River, and finally made it down the famed Gorge of the South Fork of the American River. I snowshoed through the China Wall train tunnels at Donner Pass near Truckee, California, and logged another section of the Sacramento River south of Red Bluff. 

South Fork Whitewater

I also made a return trip to Loon Lake with Bayside Adventure Sports and enjoyed some great days on the Lower American River, Lake Natoma, and Lake Clementine. The Caldor Fire cut short my season on Lake Jenkinson with Sly Park Paddle Rentals, but now as the rain and snow have now returned to California, I look forward to a fabulous summer on the lake once again next year.

My desire to travel and experience the cultures of this world only grows with age. My long list of travels to all these splendid destinations this year will have a lasting influence on me for some time to come. I will forever remember the beauty and grandeur of these places. I can only hope that my pictures have somehow captured the spirit of these whereabouts.
Hemingway wrote, "It is good to have an end to journey toward; but it is the journey that matters, in the end."
These travels have only fueled my yearnings for more adventures in years to come. And as the saying goes, as one chapter ends, another one begins. And I'll add, and the journey never ends.

Loon Lake with Bayside Adventure Sports

John Taylor at Loon Lake 

Lake Lodi

Lake Jenkinson 

Lower American River

Lake Clementine 

Lower American River

The Salt Flats of Utah 

Folsom Lake 

Glow Paddle on Lake Natoma

Slab Creek 

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