THE SECOND BEST

I bought my second kayak and after that my third one and so on. With each new kayak, I learned new skills and pushed my boundaries.--Gnarlydog News

It was a great boat. It really was. My 12-foot Perception Prodigy 12.0 with a large and roomy cockpit, open bow, and stern bulkhead. The roto-molded polyethylene kayak streamlined by design tracked straight and true upstream on the Otter Tail River. At the time, I didn't really know anything about kayaks except I wanted one and it had to be a sit inside.

I had kayaked a few summers before on Lake Michigan and always like canoeing on school trips and with the Boy Scouts. I have always been summoned by the call of water, its raging rivers, and quiet lakes. Canadian Canoe Museum founder Kirk Wipper said that the canoe and kayak have become a medium to experience peace, beauty, freedom, and adventure. "To travel the paths in natural places," he said, "Makes all the differences and in this, the canoe and kayak are essential partners."

For someone who has never paddled a lot before my Perception Prodigy 12.0 was very easy to maneuver. It tracked straight, and I found that with a slight lean could easily adjust the course. In that first summer kayaking, I took it everywhere I could find a place to paddle. Countless trips on the Red River and into Minnesota lake country. I really loved that boat. It got me into kayaking. It got me into the game. However, it wasn't long before I can say, I outgrew it. The kayak just wasn't enough boat for me to do the things I wanted to do. My skill levels had advanced past the boat specs. If I was going to become a better kayaker, I had to upgrade my kayak. I'm was not alone.

"I have seen so many people buy their first boat and have their mind-filled delusions of grandeur," wrote Paddler Magazine's Scott Edwards, in an article Buy Your Second Kayak First, posted in December of 2015. "Only to have them dashed because the boat of their dreams has in short order become inadequate to match their rapidly growing skill set." Edwards states that getting the ‘right’ kayak is going to cost you more, but, much less than buying the ‘wrong’ kayak, only to get the ‘right’ one a year or so later.

"The biggest reason we see people experiencing this is because they didn't get a boat specific to the activities they wanted to do," said a representative from Austin Kayak, "They just went out there and got the first thing that looked good and that wasn't too expensive. For example, if you're a fly fisherman, something like a Diablo kayak is a fantastic fit because of its open deck and stability so you can stand and cast from pretty much anywhere. You're not likely to appreciate and notice these details until you've done it from another boat that isn't as well suited for fly fishing."

Edwards agrees, in his article, he warns new kayakers to avoid "big box stores" in their kayak purchase, unless they just plan on floating around the lake. "The first things you have to decide is what kind of kayaking you are going to do the most." recommended Edwards, "If you are going to try your hand at whitewater kayaking, your needs are going to be different than someone going sea kayaking. It is very hard to have one kayak do everything well, which is why kayakers who paddle diverse types of water have more than one kayak."

They both suggest a test drive to make sure you and the kayak are a good fit. Many paddle shops like Austin Kayak hold demo days for paddlers searching for the right boat. "People have the opportunity to try before they buy which makes a huge difference in finding the right fit," said a spokesman from Austin Kayak, "It'll either help confirm the boat you've been lusting for is the right choice or introduce you to something new you didn't realize was an option. Renting a boat from a local outfitter is another great way to get your feet wet before committing."

Experts suggest at demo day, you explore all the aspects of the kayak's fit and feel, along with having a specialist assist you in making sure the kayak is set up for you. Many kayaks have myriad adjustments for comfort. Is it equipped with thigh braces? Do you make contact with them in the correct spots and are they adjustable? What is your preference? A seatback or back band, and how do the foot braces feel? These questions can be answered just by sitting in the boat.

"My first boat was a yellow Prijon sea kayak," said Sacramento paddler Mike Rumsey, "I paddle a Prijon a couple times on Folsom Lake, when I first started kayaking. I paddled it in Paddle to the Sea 2012 when we paddled from Chili Bar to the Golden Gate. It was my first time under the Gate. I'm sure the bridge was a spectacular sight, but I didn't see it. I was in survival mode. Now I can't stand to paddle it. So I replaced it with two boats."

My path on the water was much the same. The next year I purchased a Wilderness Systems Tsunami. I liked it so much I got another a year later and after that never paddled my Prodigy 12.0 much more ever again. I only took it out when I needed an extra boat to take family and friends kayaking. When I moved to California, I only had room for five boats and sold several others, including the Prodigy 12.0. Looking back, the initial expense played a part in my decision to buy the Prodigy. Over the year, I quickly outgrew my kayak, and the second purchase added to be substantially more than if I made that investment in the first place.

 

Edwards finished his article offering this great advice "I have encountered far too many who gave up on kayaking because they quickly became frustrated by the limitations of their equipment. It bears repeating, if you just want to float around the lake at your summer home (or things of that nature), well, you’re probably not even reading this. However, if you want to grow in your kayaking and explore the wonders and beauty that are only accessible by kayak, do your homework. Talk to people, pick a real paddle shop and take their advice. It will be money and time well spent!"

This article was originally published Outside Adventure to the Max on April 29, 2016.

Keep up with Outside Adventure to the Max, on our Facebook page and Instagram and now on Youtube.

 

PADDLE BACK

There is something about paddling. The quiet rhythm of the blade sliding in and out of the water. The feel of my body's movement and tempo as I lean into the stroke and pull the paddle toward me. Relaxed, glide, I stroke again. Needing each other to cross the lake, my body and my kayak have become one. My feet, knees, and thighs are unseen under the bow swaying back and forth and holding steady to the course while my arms and torso, operating as a turbine, charge us forward. In each motion of the paddle, the horizon inches forward, and the rest of the world slips further behind.

The world is at peace except for hurried ripples made by the bow slicing through the stillness of the lake. Behind me, the water surface is now scratched and broken into millions of tiny undulations drifting into the calm of the lake. Ahead of me lies the illusion of a priceless mirror lying flat against the earth and reflecting images of the trees and hills cradling this canyon lake. The sky is jet blue, the shore is dark, and the water is an upside-down copy sharper than any photograph could ever produce.

Environmentalist and wilderness guide Sigurd Olson was more poetic in his description while paddling the lakes and forest of Northern Minnesota and Ontario, Canada. "If it is calm," he wrote in Open Horizons, "The canoes drifting through reflections with nothing to break the vast silence but the hypnotic swish of paddles, there are moments when one seems suspended between heaven and earth."

Not far ahead, a turkey vulture soars overhead with its wings tilted upward. With its ugly red-head and diet of the dead, it's not as majestic as the eagle or hawk. The bird is looked at with disdain to most. It circles and spirals on prevailing wind currents with little change to its large outstretched wings. It looms over the lake and canyon, holding me in a trance while I paddle below.

It has been a bad week. The vulture knows it. There are problems at work, troubles at home, and doctors with test results. Life is not as tranquil as this peaceful lake. Tribulations dwell outside these canyon walls, and that vulture wants to devour us.
I pass the outcropping of the tower rock formations that the vultures call home and whisper to myself.
"Not today, my friend. I maybe trampled, but I'm far from extinguished." I paddle on as the vulture slips out of sight.
"The first thing you must learn about canoeing is that the canoe is not a lifeless, inanimate object; it feels very much alive, alive with the life of the river," said filmmaker and canoeist Bill Mason in Path of the Paddle, "Life is transmitted to the canoe by the currents of the air and the water upon which it rides." 

There is energy and healing in the water. It has a power that Mason said instilled life into my kayak and now transfuses into me. Water has been revered throughout the ages for inspiring the human spirit with hope and tranquility.
In Psalm 23, one of the most quoted Bible verses of all time, David is led down beside quiet water, and his soul is restored.

This trip to the lake has rejuvenated my vitality in the same way as it has done countless times before. A friend once told when kayaking, she hardly can remember what day it is. The lake was her portal of escape and a place to rekindle her mind.
The sun is falling behind the ridge. Along the highest points, the sun still hits the glimmering peaks while the valley is turning shadow. It is time to turn around and paddle back to the access. It is a drug. A temporary high that always leaves me wanting more and more. This why I return to the lake every chance I can, so I can feel the paddle, its rhythm, and the sensation of the water. My consciousness is cleared and refocused.
"Penetrations into the unknown, " wrote Olson in Open Horizons, "All give meaning to what has gone before, and courage for what is to come. More than physical features, they are horizons of mind and spirit. When one looks backward, we find they have blended into the whole panorama of our lives."

In a few short hours on the lake, I have undergone a recharge. My mind is at ease, and my burdens have lifted. I paddle back restored.

This article was originally published Outside Adventure to the Max on June 27, 2015. 

Keep up with Outside Adventure to the Max, on our Facebook page and Instagram and now on Youtube.

STOP, BREATHE, RELAX, AND LISTEN AGAIN, AN INTERVIEW WITH DANIEL FOX

Photos courtesy of Daniel Fox

As explorer, photographer, and storyteller, Daniel Fox looks to the power of nature to energize the mind and soul. Over the past decade, he has preached his mantra of STOP. BREATHE. RELAX. LISTEN to help us all reconnect to the natural world around us. As the founder of WILD.ECO, a group offering mentorships and opportunities for young adults from a disadvantaged background to experience nature as a framework for personal transformation and empowerment.

As FUJIFILM X-Photographer, his work has been appeared in Outside Magazine, Canoe Kayak Magazine, Adventure Kayak Magazine, Sea Kayaker Magazine, along with many others. His inspiring talks on FEEL THE WILD have been given at the Commonwealth Club, REI stores, universities and schools across the country.
Outside Adventure to the Max first caught up with Fox back in April of 2015 for a very insightful Q/A. But after Fox announced last month his book FEEL THE WILD has been acquired by RMB | Rocky Mountain Books, a publisher that is unique in the world of Art & Photography and would be released in Fall 2019. We shared our excitement of the news by reposting our archived interview with Fox and congratulating him.
Fox emailed back words of thanks and approached us about updating our interview. We, of course, said that would be really cool.

OAM: You seem somewhere between a modern-day Thoreau and adventurer Daniel Boone always looking over the next horizon. You said "Nature is more than a destination. It is a teacher, a meditation, it is food for the soul and the body, inspiration for the arts, a healer, a mentor, a lover." What drives you in your pursuit of finding nature?
DF: First of all let me thank you for referencing my work to both Thoreau and Boone - what an honor! I did use to watch the TV show when I was young - I still can remember singing the intro song!
About your question. We are a product of nature. Our species is just one of many that has inhabited this planet. And we won’t be the last. It is believed that the Neanderthal was around for 200 000 years before being ousted by the Homo Sapiens. It is fair to expect that one day in the future, the Homo Sapiens will be regarded as a past and extinct species, ousted by a more adaptable and new one.
In the grand scheme of the universe, we are nothing more than just a footnote in the history of evolution. We haven’t even proved our worthiness as a species. We have been around for what, thousands of years? That is nothing compared to others.
Sometimes I contemplate the thought that perhaps intelligence will turn out to be a counterproductive evolutionary tool. It is amazing what it can create and accomplish but it is also incredible to see how unsustainable it can be.
But again, isn’t life’s goal to expand, evolve, reach out to new worlds? We migrated from Africa for some reasons. Our species spread over continents. We risked everything and crossed oceans trying to escape what we had created, to start anew. Perhaps it is part of life to mess things up so that it forces the future generations to seek new places and the old ones to wise up. We learn through the consequences of our actions - and right now we are learning about the fragility of our species and that the act of totally disrespecting the environment is a strategy that will backfire and blow up in our face. Spending time in the wilderness reminds me that there is a world beyond ourselves.
That I am not at the center of everything. It brings me perspective and puts me back in the right place, giving me the gift of humility. It is so easy to think of ourselves as gods when we live in cities, disconnected, in awe of our prowess, but out there in the wild, you realize that there is so much more to life.
How can we look up to the stars and believe even for one second that we are special? It is that feeling of vulnerability that I seek that drives me to explore the wilderness and spend time in nature.

OAM: Tell us about W.I.L.D. Wilderness, Immersion, Leadership & Discovery to help make the wilderness accessible to underprivileged youth. Why did you start this cause?
DF: We consume nature the same way that we consume everything else - with ease, quick and in quantity. We want the benefits delivered instantly and in the shortest time possible. We want that adrenaline rush. We want to conquer that river. We want to finish that hike. And then go back to our houses and computers. It is hard in that way to truly connect with nature and receive the big lessons and insights it has to offer. It is hard to get that deep transformative experience when you are only skimming the surface.
It is like trying to experience the richness of the ocean only by swimming at the surface. Impossible! You need to dive in. Going camping for a weekend is great, but you don’t get to disconnect. Your mind and body are still attached to the conveniences of our modern world. We experience the wilderness through senses that are not in tune with nature. There are many studies that have proven and showed that it takes a minimum of 2 weeks for your senses to tune in with a new environment.
So with that in mind, I believe that immersion in nature is an important part of our development, especially during our early, formative years when it is so critical to discover who we are, develop strong self-esteem, begin to adopt leadership skills, challenge our physical well-being and acquire the capacity to live a balanced life in a world dominated by technology.

OAM: Sounds like your trying to save the world one kid at a time. What impact do you think it will have on their future?
DF: I am convinced that once you have experienced a month-long wilderness immersion camp, your life is changed forever. And knowing the importance of today’s youth in shaping the future, I want to give them, especially the underprivileged teens, the opportunity to experience first-hand the positive impact nature can have on their lives through wilderness immersion camps.
That immersion is a powerful first step that can help trigger a desire to explore and discover the natural world and to begin to understand how experiencing the beauty and ultimate challenges inherent in nature can lead to enhancing their self-confidence and help them develop valuable leadership skills. Read more about WILD.ECO

OAM: What is the FEEL THE WILD? How long have you been working on it and what has it taught you about nature and yourself?
 DF: I started the FEEL THE WILD (previously the Wild Image Project) back in 2008. It is a bit of a long story, but to summarize it, when I was a kid, my dream was to sail the world and study whales. I wanted to explore the planet. See what Cousteau, Fowler and Attenborough had shown me on the television. I was that kid who would leave in the morning, disappear in the forest and complain when it was time to come back at sunset. In High School, I got the feeling that I needed to get serious with my life expectations and was told to grow up. So I tried. I went to business school, moved to New York and attempted to make it in the corporate world. It was a failure. I was incapable of justifying my future doing something that my heart was not into. So after an unfortunate life episode (it is a longer story), I reassessed everything. If there was time for me to go back to my roots, this was the time. So I sold everything and headed south. I went to Argentina for 6 months and found myself again. I found and connected to that joyful boy I once was. I started to write and do photography and for the first time in my life, I felt like I had a purpose, a reason to move into the future and believe.

OAM: You said, that you want to create a dialog between yourself and your wildlife subjects while photographing them in nature. Why is important to you that they know of your presence?
DF: In some ways, I don’t want to take the photograph, I want to receive it. In the early age of photography, it was believed that a photo stole a piece of the soul. I don’t literally believe the statement but I do feel there is something of an invasion when you capture a moment without the subject knowing. So if I am going to capture these animals on film, I want it to be on their terms, I want their consent.
Also, I don’t want to be a visitor, I want to connect and be present. I want to meet their gaze and share that deep ancestral sense of commonality we have. That is what I seek, that is what I long for.
Importantly though, I don’t want to humanize and beautify them, I want to honor and recognize their spirit. Every single species on earth is exceptional in the sense that it has achieved mastery of its survival by adapting and acutely occupying a specific niche within the planet’s ecosystem.
Everything and everyone, including us, has evolved and survived by becoming the best at one thing. The indigenous cultures understood and honored this way of looking at the world. They didn’t see themselves better or above anyone or anything, but alongside all the others, part of life’s complex cobweb. Animals, plants, and insects were respected, honored and recognized for their particular abilities.

OAM: Your first attempt in 2014 to kayak 1,000 miles from Victoria, on the Island of Vancouver in Canada to San Francisco was unfortunately ended in very harrowing ordeal at Cannon Beach in Oregon as featured in Canoe & Kayak magazine article ALIVE & STRONGER What did you learn from that experience?
DF: There are certain things in life that are not meant to be accomplished on the first try. They demand commitment and failure is part of the experience. A 1,000 miles of solo kayaking along the Pacific Coast is not something to be taken lightly. I am actually glad that my first attempt was unsuccessful. I was extremely fortunate and I didn’t hurt myself and that is the most important thing. Had it been too easy, I would have lost the respect that endeavors like these deserve. Looking back, there are obviously lessons that I learned. First one is that I should have not forced my departure. I was pressured by time and left Astoria knowing that bad weather was coming. Also, I should have never attempted to lend in Indian Bay at night. I didn't know the place and it was obvious that the conditions were way too dangerous for me to maneuver my way into these unknown waters. That first capsize changed everything. Had I just paddled into the night, against the wind, it would have been extremely exhausting and dead tired, but at least I would have not ended up in pieces on the beach crushed by the ocean.

OAM: Are you going to attempt it again?
DF: I won’t say no, but right now it is not a priority. That long paddle had a specific purpose, to fundraise for WILD.ECO. My creative process though is more about immersing myself for 2 to 3 weeks at a time in the wilderness. At the moment, I am focused on preparing for my book launch, set for Fall 2019, published by RMBooks and an upcoming North American Tour with Arc’teryx.

OAM: You travel light and by yourself for long periods of time do you find comfort in the solitude?
DF: I do. I see myself as an artist and the wilderness is my studio. When I go out, my goal is to create something, to capture the spirit of a place and share it with the world. A painter can’t paint when there are other people around. They need that empty space where their mind can get lost and create. It is the same for me. Out there, by myself, I have to face the silence, my mind goes to places that are not always fun, but from these depths, magic happens. I will be honest though, it can be extremely challenging and tiring. There is no one to motivate you. You are responsible for everything. There is no peer pressure, no one to cook while you set up camp, no second opinion, no help if something happens. I wrote about this solitude in this story S2 = C + P (Solitude & Silence = Clarity + Perspective). You can also read my recent trip to the Pemberton ice field, where I wrote about the change.

OAM: What is the most essential item you always bring along while on these odysseys?
DF: My brain! My sanity and optimism! The answer might surprise you but nothing is more important than keeping your calm when you are on solo expeditions. No gear can replace good judgment. No gear can save you unless you know what to do with it. You can survive with very little and through insane and crazy situations if you succeed in not letting the events take over you. Aside from the philosophical answer, my Fujifilm camera is always with me. And if I had to choose the most essential item it would be my SOG multitool.

OAM: Ansel Adams said, "A good photograph is knowing where to stand." You have traveled throughout the world. What was your favorite place so far and what made it so appealing?
DF: There is so much of the world I haven’t seen!!! So many places to visit. So much to discover and explore. Adams’ quote reminds me of Proust’: “The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.” The truth though is that we are social species. We are wired to connect with others. And in all my traveling, it is the people that I meet along the way that I remember the most. Connecting with the wild places I visit is impossible to do unless I connect first with the people that live there. I am passing through. I am a visitor and they are the ones who hold the key to so many secrets. Their stories and their experiences are priceless and full of treasures.  

OAM: Any place on your list you haven't been yet?
DF: At the beginning when I started, I was attracted to exotic destinations. But to be honest, now I only focus on North America. There is so much right here, in our backyard to discover. From Alaska, the Arctic Circle, the Northwest Territories to Baja California.
From Newfoundland to British Columbia and California, the mountains, the deserts, the rivers, the Pacific and Atlantic Coast, our American and Canadian National Parks are truly some of the most beautiful places on earth.

OAM: One last one... Ralph Waldo Emerson said, "Nothing can bring you peace but yourself." What will be your legacy?
DF: We are not a bad species. We are learning. There is so much guilt and negativity in our culture that is is really hard to be hopeful. There is this constant deadline over our head telling us that if we don’t fix everything in 5 years, life on earth will literally end. There is this arrogant and righteous sense of duty that we must save the planet. People are overwhelmed and feel powerless and consequently stop caring or listening. There is, of course, a pressing need to change but we have to believe in ourselves. We have to inspire each other and see the beauty within us. We are a species that rises when facing challenges. We are experts at adapting. Yes, we have done mistakes. And we won’t stop making new ones. That is life. But by accepting responsibility, by finding humility and believing that the strength of our spirit is intertwined with the natural world, I believe that together we can lay the foundations to a world we can be proud of.

I want to make people STOP just for a second. I want them to take a deep BREATH, RELAX, LISTEN and look at the world and nature in a new way. I want them to think. I want them to believe. I want them to be proud. I want them to believe in the power of nature to Nurture, Awaken, Transform, Uplift, Restore and Elevate the human spirit. I want them to understand that we are from nature, that nature is not something disconnected from us. If I can do that, if that can be my legacy, then I will be happy.

Daniel Fox is an artist, solo wilderness explorer, Fujifilm X-Photographer, & SanDisk Extreme Team Member. Through his photography, videos and stories, he seeks to inspire the public to experience nature as a framework, mindset and mentor for personal transformation. He believes in the Power of Nature to Nurture, Awaken, Transcend, Uplift, Restore and Elevate the human spirit.
He is the founder of WILD.ECO, a nonprofit that mentors and raises funds to send disadvantaged students to wilderness immersion camps. Its mission is to foster resilient, empowered, adaptable, curious, and empathetic students of life, using Nature as a framework.
Fox lives in Vancouver, Canada, with his wife Tristan and their dog Kobe.
You can learn more about Fox on his website and follow him on Facebook, Linkedin, and Instagram.

 

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THE SECOND BEST

I bought my second kayak and after that my third one and so on. With each new kayak, I learned new skills and pushed my boundaries.--Gnarlydog News

 

 It was a great boat. It really it was. My 12-foot Perception Prodigy 12.0  with a large and roomy cockpit, open bow and stern bulkhead. The roto-molded polyethylene kayak streamlined by design, it tracked straight and true upstream on the Otter Tail River. At the time, I didn't really know anything about kayaks except I wanted one and it had to be a sit inside.

I had kayaked a few summers before on Lake Michigan and always like canoeing on school trips and with the Boy Scouts. I have always been summoned by the call of water, its raging rivers and quiet lakes. Canadian Canoe Museum founder Kirk Wipper said that the canoe and kayak have become a medium to experience peace, beauty, freedom and adventure. "To travel the paths in natural places," he said, "Makes all the differences and in this, the canoe and kayak are essential partners."

For someone who has never paddled a lot before my Perception Prodigy 12.0  was very easy to maneuver. It tracked straight, and I found that with a slight lean could easily adjust course.  In that first summer kayaking, I took it everywhere I could find a place to paddle. Countless trips on the Red River and into Minnesota lake country. I really loved that boat. It got me into kayaking. It got me into the game. However, it wasn't long before I can say, I outgrew it. The kayak, just wasn't enough boat for me to do the things I wanted to do. My skill levels had advanced past the boat specs. If I was going to become a better kayaker, I had to upgrade my kayak. I'm was not alone.

"I have seen so many people buy their first boat and have their mind filled delusions of grandeur," wrote Paddler Magazine's Scott Edwards, in article Buy Your Second Kayak First, posted in December of 2015. "Only to have them dashed because the boat of their dreams has in short order become inadequate to match their rapidly growing skill set." Edwards states that getting the ‘right’ kayak is going to cost you more, but, much less than buying the ‘wrong’ kayak, only to get the ‘right’ one a year or so later.

"The biggest reason we see people experiencing this is because they didn't get a boat specific to the activities they wanted to do," said a representative from Austin Kayak, "They just went out there and got the first thing that looked good and that wasn't too expensive. For example, if you're a fly fisherman, something like a Diablo kayak is a fantastic fit because of its open deck and stability so you can stand and cast from pretty much anywhere. You're not likely to appreciate and notice these details until you've done it from another boat that isn't as well suited for fly fishing."

Edwards agrees, in his article, he warns new kayakers to avoid "big box stores" in their kayak purchase,  unless they just plan on floating around the lake. "The first things you have to decide is what kind of kayaking you are going to do the most." recommended  Edwards, "If you are going to try your hand at whitewater kayaking, your needs are going to be different than someone going sea kayaking. It is very hard to have one kayak do everything well, which is why kayakers who paddle diverse types of water have more than one kayak."

They both suggest a test drive to make sure you and the kayak are a good fit. Many paddle shops like Austin Kayak hold demo days for paddlers searching for the right boat. "People have the opportunity to try before they buy which makes a huge difference in finding the right fit," said a spokesman from Austin Kayak, "It'll either help confirm the boat you've been lusting for is the right choice or introduce you to something new you didn't realize was an option. Renting a boat from a local outfitter is another great way to get your feet wet before committing."

AUSTIN KAYAK'S DEMO DAYS

Experts suggest at demo day, you explore all the aspects of the kayak's fit and feel, along with having a specialist assist you in making sure the kayak is set up for you. There are many kayaks that have myriad adjustments for comfort. Is it equipped with thigh braces? Do you make contact with them in the correct spots and are they adjustable? What is your preference? A seat back or back band and how do the foot braces feel? These questions can be answered just by sitting in the boat.

"My first boat was a yellow Prijon sea kayak," said Sacramento paddler Mike Rumsey, "I paddle a Prijon a couple time on Folsom Lake when I first started kayaking. I paddled it in Paddle to the Sea 2012  when we paddled from Chili Bar to the Golden Gate. It was my first time under the Gate. I'm sure the bridge was a spectacular sight, but  I didn't see it. I was in survival mode.  Now I can't stand to paddle it.  So I replaced it with two boats."

My path on the water was much the same. The next year I purchased a Wilderness Systems Tsunami. I liked it so much I got another a year later and after that never paddled my Prodigy 12.0 much more ever again. I only took it out when I needed an extra boat to take family and friends kayaking. When I moved to California, I only had room for five boats and sold several others including the Prodigy 12.0. Looking back, initial expense played a part in my decision to buy the Prodigy. Over the year I quickly outgrew my kayak and the second purchase added to be substantially more than if I made that investment in the first place.

Edwards finished his article offering this great advice "I have encountered far too many who gave up on kayaking because they quickly became frustrated by the limitations of their equipment. It bears repeating, if you just want to float around the lake at your summer home (or things of that nature), well, you’re probably not even reading this. However, if you want to grow in your kayaking and explore the wonders and beauty that are only accessible by kayak, do your homework. Talk to people, pick a real paddle shop and take their advice. It will be money and time well spent!"

OVER THE BOW: LAKE SUPERIOR

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down, Of the big lake they call Gitche Gumee, The lake, it is said, never gives up her dead, When the skies of November turn gloomy--Gordon Lightfoot

It was late fall in Minnesota. Winter comes quickly there. It pushes the season of autumn out rapidly like an out-of-control locomotive. The beautiful colorful leaves one day are swept away by the rain, ice and snow on the next. Veteran paddlers of Lake Superior will tell you that when the weather turns to winter, the lake can become extremely hazardous for vessels no matter the size. A single storm on Nov. 28, 1905, damaged 29 ships calling for American novelist James Oliver Curwood to write, "It is the most dangerous piece of water in the world. Here winter falls in autumn, and until late spring, it is a region of blizzards and blinding snowstorms. The coast are harborless wildernesses with...reef and rocky headlands that jut out like knives to cuts ships into two." The alarm went out and in 1907 the US Congress appropriated $75,000 to build a lighthouse and fog signal southwest of Silver Bay, Minnesota, on the North Shore of Lake Superior.   

Split Rock Lighthouse is considered one of the most picturesque lighthouses on Lake Superior. The lighthouse long since retired by U. S. Coast Guard is now part of the Split Rock Lighthouse State Park and is operated by the Minnesota Historical Society. It has been restored to the way it appear in the late 1920s when it guarded the treacherous and rocky coastline against its 130-foot cliff perch overlooking the lake. Only once a year is the lighthouse lens re-lit in tribute to the SS Edmund Fitzgerald sank in a storm on November 10, 1975.  All 29 crew members perished in one of the Great Lakes' worst shipping disasters forty years ago this month. On the anniversary of the ship's sinking, the names of the crew are read and the beacon is lit at dusk.

Against lake, the imposing and beautiful lighthouse seems to shrink. The forests and rocks on its edges have been diminished. I have never felt so small in a kayak than on Lake Superior. The lake, powerful even when calm bounced me up and down like a float toy as I paddled around the island and bay below the lighthouse. My son Cole and I were on a late-season camping trip on the North Shore. We had brought our Wilderness Systems Tsunami 140 to experience paddling in Little Two Harbors Bay and under the lighthouse. This place has special meaning us. We had visited it several times as a family and had good memories there. Now we would have one more.

While Cole paddled out into the bay, I climbed to the top of nearby Ellingson Island across from the lighthouse's rock face wall. Cole braver than I went out further under the lighthouse. Unprotected from the windswept waters, I watch waves break over his bow. Alone in the vastness, from my viewpoint, he was only speck on the giant sea. Like, novelist, Joseph Conrad said, "The sea has never been friendly to man. At most, it has been the accomplice of human restlessness." It is like that with Lake Superior, sudden storms, very cold water and an unforgiving coastline. It's an uninviting place that seems to call for us home, even in the days before winter.
 
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

Paddle Back

 

There is something about paddling: the quiet rhythm of the blade sliding in and out of the water, the feel of my body's movement and tempo as I lean into the stroke and pull the paddle toward me. Relaxed, glide, I stroke again. Needing each other to cross the lake, my body and my kayak have become one. My feet, knees and thighs unseen under the bow sway back and forth holding steady to the course while my arms and torso, operating like a turbine, charge us forward. In each motion of the paddle, the horizon inches forward and the rest of the world slips further behind.

The world is at peace except for hurried ripples made by the bow slicing through the stillness of the lake. Behind me, the water surface is now scratched and broken into millions of tiny undulations drifting into the calm of the lake. Ahead of me lies the illusion of a priceless mirror laying flat against the earth and reflecting images of the trees and hills cradling this canyon lake. The sky is jet blue, the shore is dark and water is an upside down copy sharper than any photograph could ever produce. 
Environmentalist and wilderness guide Sigurd Olson was more poetic in his description, while paddling the lakes and forest of Northern Minnesota and Ontario, Canada. "If it is calm," he wrote in Open Horizons, "The canoes drifting through reflections with nothing to break the vast silence but the hypnotic swish of paddles, there are moments when one seems suspended between heaven and earth."

Not far ahead, a turkey vulture soars overhead with its wings tilted upward.  With it's ugly red-head and diet of the dead, its not as majestic as the eagle or hawk . The bird is looked at with disdain to most. It circles and spirals on prevailing wind currents with little change to its large out stretched wings. It looms over the lake and canyon, holding me in a trance while I paddle below.
It has been a bad week and the vulture knows it. There are problems at work, troubles at home and doctors with test results. Life is not as tranquil as this peaceful lake. Tribulations dwell outside these canyon walls and that vulture wants to devour us. 
I pass the outcropping of the tower rock formations that the vultures call home and whisper to myself
"Not today my friend. I maybe trampled, but I'm far from extinguished." I paddle on as the vulture slips out of sight.

"The first thing you must learn about canoeing is that the canoe is not a lifeless, inanimate object; it feels very much alive, alive with the life of the river," said film maker and canoeist Bill Mason in Path of the Paddle, "Life is transmitted to the canoe by the currents of the air and the water upon which it rides."
There is energy and healing in the water. It has power that Mason said instilled life into my kayak and now transfuses into me. Water has been revered throughout the ages for inspiring the human spirit with hope and tranquility.
 In Psalm 23, one of most quoted Bible verses of all time, David is led down beside quiet water and his soul is restored.
 This trip to the lake has rejuvenated my vitality in the same way, as it has done countless times before. A friend once told when kayaking she hardly can remember what day it is. The lake was her portal of escape and a place to rekindle her mind.
The sun is falling behind the ridge. Along the highest points, the sun still hits the glimmering peaks while the valley is turning shadow.  It is time to turn around and paddle back to the access. It is a drug. A temporary high that always leaves me wanting more and more. This why I return to the lake every chance I can, so I can feel the paddle, it's rhythm and the sensation of the water. My consciousness is cleared and refocused.
"Penetrations into the unknown, " wrote Olson in Open Horizon, "All give meaning to what has gone before, and courage for what is to come. More than physical features, they are horizons of mind and spirit, and when one looks backward, we find they have blended into the whole panorama of our lives."
In a few short hours on the lake, I have undergone a recharge. My mind is at ease and my burdens have lifted. I paddle back restored.

Kids & Kayaks

We sat on the bank and the river went by. As always, it was making sounds to itself, and now it made sounds to us. It would be hard to find three men sitting side by side who knew better what a river was saying.  Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It.

This Father's Day weekend I will enjoy the company of my oldest son visiting from Omaha. We will try to fit many things into his week-long visit, including reminiscing about our previous kayak and camping trips we have enjoyed together.

The other day, my wife asked me when I had developed such a keen interest in water sports and if I had kayaked growing up.  In Nebraska, we really didn't have access to water outside the public swimming pool where I learned to swim. My dad was a hunter. He took my brother and I hunting almost every fall weekend for upland game birds and fishing only a couple of times.  He would pack up the family station wagon every summer with camping gear and take us on cross-country trips to central Nebraska, the Black Hills and even to California. He would often pick scenic state parks to visit that included a lake or river for swimming. It was those summer camp outs and hunting trips that offered my first taste of exploring the outdoors.

My junior high school offered canoes trips along the Missouri and Niobrara rivers which were my first paddling experiences. Those great trips that I took with friends and classmates planted a seed in me that would later grow into a passion.

However through college, building a career and raising a young family those canoe trips turned into someday-dreams. In Fargo where the lakes are 45 minutes away, I didn't have the time and I didn't make the time. There was always a something else to do such as a work assignment, a doctor visit or another bill to pay. The water might as well have been a million miles away.
But then something great happened. My kids transformed from babies to creatures of action and adventure.
They wanted to camp. They wanted to canoe. They wanted to explore.
My kids were attending and working at summer camps offered through Boy Scouts and Campfire. Adults were needed to supervise and insure safety. That is what I told myself, but I came because it was fun. It opened a whole new world for me that I had forgotten. I was hooked again.

Before long I was attending the camps with them and taking them along on our own family adventures. Back on the water for at least a few days a year, my enthusiasm was just beginning. A couple of years later I bought three kayaks, some PFDs and paddles. I wasn't a real live kayaker yet, but I was getting there. The next season we added some whitewater boats and a tandem kayak to the fleet. The tandem meant we did not have to leave the dog behind.

On our paddling and camping trips into Minnesota, we stayed at scenic state parks with water access. After setting up the tents and exploring the lake or river, we remembered the day's journey fondly that night by the campfire. Some of my best fatherhood memories have taken place fireside with my kids. Laughter and reminiscing circled like the smoke from the fire.

"Remember the time at camp?" Taylor, my oldest would start.

"You mean the time that kid's swimsuit was hung on the flag pole?" added Cole, my youngest while roasting marshmallows.

Along with a collection of others, I had heard that story a dozen times before. I'm sure the trees that surround the campsite have heard thousands more like it.  I listened to the telling and retelling of their tales again like it was the first time. The jumble of camper's hi jinx and mischief have turned into family fables. Taylor has a way of stretching one story to another and another providing nostalgic entertainment. I have often said there is no one better around a campfire than Taylor. Even the trip we were on would later be a story at some distant campsite to come.

The next day brought more paddling, exploring and spending time together. The trip would end too quickly with a stop for ice cream or pizza or both on the way home.
 
So on this Father's Day weekend, may all dads and their kids build classic tales of their time together along the water. Those adventures will live in their memories and will be told over and over again as long there kayaks, canoes and campfires.

Under the Golden Gate

I come back to the sea. In my case it is usually San Francisco Bay, than which no lustier, tougher, sheet of water can be found for small-boat sailing. It really blows on San Francisco Bay. During the winter, which is the best cruising season, we have southeasters, southwesters, and occasional howling northers. Throughout the summer we have what we call the "sea-breeze," an unfailing wind off the Pacific that on most afternoons in the week blows what the Atlantic Coast yachtsmen would name a gale. ---Jack London

When I think back on all those places I have ever wanted to kayak. I would dream of clear forest lakes, whitewater in a rocky mountain canyon and a sea view of the Golden Gate Bridge.
It is undeniably one of the greatest views ever. The Golden Gate Bridge is an icon of America. As I began unloading my kayak into Horseshoe Bay just to the north of the bridge, even in the early morning hours,  folks have already begun to congregate at the water's edge with their eyes fixed on the bridge in reverence.
It is a calm and beautiful morning. Out of the safety of Horseshoe Bay, I have heard about what challenges await. San Francisco Bay is legendary to the sea kayaker. Some of the wildest sea conditions on the entire West Coast can be found just past that sea wall. The bay is known for steep waves, fast and swirling currents and howling winds blowing through that Golden Gate. The last time my paddling partner, Erik Allen and I paddled the bay we faced a tiring wind on the return trip. I laughed at it anyway.
"You have never paddled Lake of the Woods at Zipple Bay, have you." I told Erik, and then exaggerated just a little, "They use a log chain for a windsock there."
Erik might have been concerned about the wind,  however, I'm worried about the tides and currents. Sea kayaking is still a foreign language to me. Ebbs, slacks, floods, and tide tables make up words in a sea kayaker's secret code. A flood tide makes it easier to paddle out while ebb will aid in the return. Finding the ideal time optimal for one's paddling experience.
Adding to even more the chaos are the pleasure crafts, ferries and ocean-going vessels competing for the same waterway. All of these factors should be considered when paddling in the bay and caution should always be exercised.

I picked a good time to paddle. It is early and the winds are light and the tide is in my favor.  I'm going solo across to Angel Island to join my camping party for an overnight on the island. They came the day before and I will be joining them. My kayak is loaded up with my camping gear, a change of clothes and an assortment of freeze-dried foods and power bars.
My heart races as I exit the Horseshoe Bay and enter the swells of the ocean. It is an exhilarating feeling as I round Yellow Bluff, a 90-foot cliff just of east of Horseshoe Bay. The waves crash gently against its walls. I enjoy views of seals bobbing their heads up above the surface of the water.  They are my only company so far. It is way to early for ferryboats. Their traffic won't begin till mid-morning. I stay along the shore for a while before making a northeastern turn towards Angel Island's Stuart's Point. To my left is Richardson Bay and Sausalito, to my right,  Alcatraz Island and San Francisco while behind me is the Golden Gate Bridge. Straight ahead is Angel Island silhouetted against the sun. Its dark mass rises out of a hazy glow.
It's a little less than 3 miles across to it. The island looms larger and larger with each stroke. I spot a few fisherman and sailboats on the horizon. It is an easy paddle till I catch the swell of and rapid water of Raccoon Straights. It pushes me past Stuart Point and towards the kayak in campsite. In the grass, I catch sight of my party's kayaks nestled in the grass. Up the hill,  I'm just in time for breakfast.

The day had just begun. After unloading my gear and quick breakfast I'm back on the water again with the group of paddlers. We make a quick trip across Raccoon Straights to Tiburon followed by a trip back through the straights and around the island.

  Angel Island is the bay's second largest island. It's about five miles to hike around which gives me an idea of the distance I will paddle while circumnavigating the island. I team up with fellow paddler Phil Montanes for the trek around the island. I watch Phil and his kayak disappear and reappear in the bounding waves while crossing the ferryboat lanes to Stuart's Point. Going around the west end of the island we take on the full brunt of the bay's winds. At times we don't even seem to be moving. We paddle hard past the rocky ledge before the bay winds decrease. From there, we sweep along the south side of the island, where we have the best views of Alcatraz and the cityscape of San Francisco. After Blunt Point, the bay is as calm a Minnesota lake on summer's afternoon. The eastern side of the island usually offers protection against the prevailing west winds. Here we catch our breaths and pass the historic sites of the island. The fort and the immigration station stand like silent witnesses to another time. Rounding the corner again we catch the wind and the view of Ayala Cove. This where the tourists arrive and depart the island via ferry boats. We have almost made it. Just past Point Ione, we see our kayak camp's beach and the far off view of the Golden Gate.

 Part Two of my trip to Angel Island next week in Outside Adventure to the Max.

Stop. Breathe. Relax. Listen. An Interview with Daniel Fox

Photo provided by Daniel Fox

Bay to Bay

                                       

Lake Natoma

 Rivers are the primal highways of life. From the crack of time, they had borne men's dreams, and in their lovely rush to elsewhere, fed our wanderlust, mimicked our arteries, and charmed our imaginations in a way the static pond or vast and savage ocean never could. ---Tom Robbins 


Sometimes I'm just at a loss for words to describe the joy I have for kayaking along on a lake, a river and now the ocean. I got into boating roughly five years ago this month and haven't looked back. Each day on the water fades into a dream only a picture can tell. Bright days, cloudy days and moonlit nights have been chronicled in my photographs of my paddling adventures. Here are a few of my favorite images from this year so far.

Lake Natoma

Paddle Pushers on Lake Natoma

Moonlight Paddle on Lake Natoma

Lower American River

Rollins Lake

Folsom Lake

Folsom lake

Folsom Lake

North of the American River

San Francisco Bay

We are always looking for guest bloggers to share their adventures stories and pictures. Keep up with Outside Adventure to the Max on our Facebook page.

Spring Boater Safety

On a rainy spring day on Beers Lake in Minnesota's Maplewood State Park.

 I'm one of the lucky ones now. I can pretty much paddle my kayak every day of the year. One of the advantages to living in Northern California near the American River. However, while living back in the upper Midwest I would count-down the days till the ice would clear away from the area lakes and  rivers. I would watch for days when the temperatures would inch above 40 or 50 degrees to take my kayaks to the water.
Wading in just a few feet into the water, even with neoprene boots, gave me a quick reminder it was April and not July. The water was still dangerously cold. 
“Many newer paddlers don’t realize that even though the air temperature is warm, the water can still be ice cold,” said Todd Robertson, a certified paddling instructor at the Iowa Department of Natural Resources told the Des Moines Register.
“As spring arrives, it takes a while for that water to warm up, making it necessary to have a wet or dry suit on and a change of dry clothes in a dry bag in case you dump your boat,” Robertson said. “Remember, wet clothing and cold water make for hypothermic conditions.”
Outlining this safety factor,  Austin Kayak www.ack.com/blog has put together five points for anyone looking to get a jump start on their paddling season this spring.

1. Start With The the Basics

Keeping warm on the water as temperatures start to drop isn’t as hard as you think. Make sure you have all the basics like your PFD, spray skirt (for sit insides), bilge pump (also for sit insides), whistle, paddle leash and first aid kit. Add to this list a complete change of clothes in a dry bag just in case you fall in the water and want to change later. It may go without saying, but be sure that none of the clothes you wear or pack are cotton. Cotton dries slow, meaning you’re going to be cold if there’s even a slight breeze out, plus it weighs you down. Just don’t do it. What should you wear? Well, I was getting to that…

Cold Weather Paddling Apparel Layering Guide

2. Layering Is A Paddlers Best Friend Against the Cold

You’ll want to take on the cold with the appropriate paddling apparel, and that means layering with synthetic materials proven to keep you both warm and dry. I’d recommend starting with a good base layer in early fall and then adding piece by piece as the weather gets colder. Refer to our Cold Weather Paddling Apparel Layering Guide to see how you can best do this.
Keep in mind that when it gets colder it will be more important to keep as much covered as you can and this means investing in things like neoprene socks, paddling gloves (or pogies) and headwear. One really great headwear option that’s just arrived at ACK is the Buff Thermal Pro, which uses a Polartec fabric to cover your neck and head as well as merino wool for your chin and mouth.

3. Don’t Paddle On An Empty Stomach

It’s important that you hydrate whenever you’re paddling but it’s easy to forget when the sun isn’t beating down on you. In fact, keeping well fed and hydrated will help minimize the risk of hypothermia if you happen to fall in the water. Carbohydrates and foods high in fat will give you both energy and warmth. On especially cold nights, I recommend bringing along a vacuum sealed flask of your favorite warm beverage (non-alcoholic) like hot chocolate or cider.

4. Familiarize Yourself With Rescue Techniques

Even for a paddler who is dressed for cold water immersion, a swim can still bring on hypothermia if you aren’t prepared. Knowledge of rescue techniques and regular practice with your paddling companions (and cold water paddlers SHOULD have partners) are essential. Rolling is particularly important to know for sea kayakers or anyone else in a sit-inside because the inability to perform this will mean an extended exposure to cold water. All paddlers should also be able to re-enter their kayak should an accidental capsize occur. If you aren’t comfortable with these skills, make sure someone in your group knows this and is prepared to help.

5. Wear Your PFD!

At risk of sounding like a broken record, my last tip is a reminder to wear your PFD. Not only is it an added layer of insulation but they will keep your head above water, increasing your ability to fight against hypothermia dramatically. Just take a 10 minute lesson from the Cold Water Boot Camp if you don’t believe me.

Also remember, cold water is not the only danger this time of year. Springtime floods are common on many rivers. At flood stage rivers can be deadly and filled with hazards. Trees branches and other debris have been trapped in the ice and when the river thaws, it moves downstream and is deposited at the base of bridge pilings and the outside of tight bends in the river. A good knowledge of the river is vital when paddling in high water, along with good boat control skills and understanding how to navigate around these hazards is crucial to remaining safe while on the river.
 Canoes, kayaks, and stand-up paddleboards were involved in 20% of all boating casualties in 2013 according to the U.S. Coast Guard 2013 Recreational Boating Statistics. That year 109 people died as result of kayak or canoe mishap. Sobering statics on how safety practices should always be exercised no matter what the season.

Over The Bow: The Otter Tail River

 
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 Noel

It was an uncommonly warm day in March of 2012. That year's winter was unfamiliar, to begin with. It had been a snowless Christmas for the area for the first time in 50 years and only a few snowstorms followed into February.  The Red River Valley's rivers weren't on the rampage for the first time in years and their winter top coat of ice was being shed easily. Temperatures were racing into the 70s,  making it hard to resist my first trip kayaking that year. I ordinarily started in late April while living in Fargo, N.D.  Paddling in the upper Midwest is a seasonable transition. Break the kayaks out in the late spring. Paddle as much as you can all summer long. Dodge the leaves, rain then snowflakes during autumn and grumble about the cold while stowing the boat away for the long winter.
The Otter Tail River was clear, low and running slow. I always kicked off my paddling seasons on that river. It is a delightful waterway weaving through woods, marshes and farmlands in the heart of Minnesota's lakes country. I would be paddling upstream from the highway access off 210 just east of Fergus Falls. Its popular put in and take out spot along the river during the summer for canoeists and tubers alike. However, that day I had the river to myself.
 I would loop in and out of the channel going up river. In the shadows, snow was still clinging to the banks of the river. Around a bend, I came across the large sheet of ice spanning most of the river. It had the look of a glacier. The March sun, however, was taking control.  The ice was being rapidly melting away with each drip falling back into the river. Spring was on its way and the paddling season had begun.

Over the Bow is a new 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

Rattlesnake Bar's Visionary Enchantment

“As we passed on, it seemed as if those scenes of visionary enchantment would never have an end.” --Meriwether Lewis

I have always found that visionary enchantment Lewis writes about on my trips at Folsom Lake State Recreation Area's Rattlesnake Bar and up the North Fork of the American River. Gliding in clear water along a passageway between massive granite ramparts cradling the lake and river. The canyon walls also flow in patterns of the stream. The once molten rock now crystallized over millions of years has been lifted and exposed. Thin-bedded sedimentary layers have been shattered and busted along the fault lines while large boulders have become their own islands raising from the depths.

When I started kayaking I dreamed of being in a place like this. These were the places pictured in the favorite kayak magazines. Quiet inviting pools of water with amazing scenery, while just around the bend the ripples have turned into churning cascades. The sound of the thundering water echoing off the chasm walls has always called to me.

It is a warm day in March and the lake running high. It’s a far cry from more than a year ago when I was driving and walking on the lake’s floor. Now the lake is nearly double with the water it at about 100 percent of normal, meaning the lake levels are where they should be, despite the ongoing drought. It's a good sign. I'm able to paddle farther into the North Fork's canyon than I have before, passing the long gone miner's gold camps. During the Gold Rush thousands of miners picked, dug and blasted along the banks of the river looking for fortune, but today it is only me finding the riches of the lake and stream.

Before long the placid lake turns into moving water. I feel the tug of current pushing me back. At a couple rapids, I leap-frog the fast water by portaging my kayak. I hopscotch between the uneven rock. The footing isn't great. I find sandy beaches below each rapid along with clear blue pools. In summer this would be an inviting spot for a swim. However, it is March and the water remains liquid snow from the Sierra. Swimming will have to wait till next time. I press on until being stopped by a long line of rapids.

I have lunch on the beach and then go with the flow. I catch the current enjoying a bouncy ride to quieter waters.