KAYAK BLISS

Wherever there is a channel for water, there is a road for the canoe.  Henry David Thoreau

 It is no secret I love kayaking. If I'm not paddling across a lake or river,  I'm usually thinking about paddling across a lake or stream. To ease the stress of the day, my mind literally drifts away planning the next great outing on the water with the poetic words of naturalist Sigurd Olson, voyaging through my head, heart and soul.

 If it is calm, 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. If it is stormy and the lakes alive, with whitecaps and blowing spume, each instant is full of battle and excitement. When, after hours and sometimes days, the misty outlines of the lake take form again, islands slowly emerge and float upon the surface, headlands become real, one passes through a door into the beyond itself and the mystery is no more.

 So it really came as no surprise when I read Kaydi Pyette's article in the current issue of Canoeroots magazine entitled Find Your Bliss stating that people are happier when they spend money on experiences, not things. Pyette states, according to psychology professor at Cornell University researcher Dr. Thomas Gilovich, experiences, rather than material goods, make us happier in the long run. This is contrary to what some people feel is true, since material goods last longer than individual experiences. Yet, the happy memories associated with a concert or ski trip last longer, creating more of a positive impact than the short-term happiness from a single purchase.

"Our experiences are a bigger part of ourselves than our material goods," said Gilovich in an interview with Co. Exist's Jay Cassano, "You can really like your material stuff. You can even think that part of your identity is connected to those things, but nonetheless, they remain separate from you. In contrast, your experiences really are part of you. We are the sum total of our experiences."

Pyette's article went on to say, that even bad experiences create happy memories. A camping trip of nothing but rain becomes a great opportunity for bonding, and an excellent story to tell. Stressful, uncomfortable and scary experiences can be turned into funny stories and later be seen as valuable learning experiences.

"We consume experiences directly with other people," said Gilovich. "And after they're gone, they're part of the stories that we tell to one another."

 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. For me, there are no bad days on the water,  only great memories.

"There have been countless campfires, each one different, but some so blended into their backgrounds that it is hard for them to emerge." wrote Sigurd Olson, "But I have found that when I catch even a glimmer of their almost forgotten light in the eyes of some friend who has shared them with me, they begin to flame once more. Those old fires have strange and wonderful powers. Even their memories make life the adventure it was meant to be."

SWIMMING LESSONS

Bogart: How'd you like it?
Hepburn: Like it?
Bogart: Whitewater rapids!
Hepburn: I never dreamed. . .
Bogart: I don't blame you for being scared -- not one bit. Nobody with good sense ain't scare of whitewater.
Hepburn: I never dreamed that any mere physical experience could be so stimulating.
-The African Queen 

Erik Allen looked at me sternly. Things needed to happen fast and now. I was soaking wet standing in swirling ankle-deep freezing water after being tossed about in the rapids of the North Fork of the American like a bobbing float toy. I had gathered enough strength to swim to the rocky shore and found some footing. The boat I had used was somewhere downstream, consequentially leaving me marooned on the wrong side of the river.  It was Ground Hog's Day.

"You're going to have to swim across to the other side of the river," Erik said over the sound of the rushing water. "There is no trail here. We're on the wrong side dude!"

Moments before,  I had suffered a  classic boater's beat down nightmare. Upstream, I had rolled and was forced to swim. I could still see the emerald wave moving in slow motion. It was curling, big and looked ten-feet tall. I was hypnotized by its size and power. I lost focus and froze, committing the cardinal sin of white-water kayaking.  I had stopped paddling just hoping to ride it out.

"Fearful or tentative paddling is often a self-fulfilling prophecy, " said Team Pyranha's Pete Delosa, "When we are afraid of what might happen when focus on that thing and thereby cause it to happen. It's better to paddle aggressively and stay focused on the desired outcome. This is, of course, easier said than done a lot of the time. But, when you're tense the boat isn't able to rock with the water under you. You and your boat can't move independent of each other and that's when you get knocked over."

There is a saying on the river that every paddler, even the good ones are in between swims. According to the Whitewater Rescue Institutes' Mike Johnston, "When you fall in whitewater, it's common to be held underwater for a few seconds. Time seems to slow down. It's sort of like the dog years ratio, one actual second of submersion seems like about seven seconds. When you need to breathe and can't, three seconds can seem like twenty. This isn't a long time at your desk but can feel like forever at the bottom of a rapid. Don't panic."

When I rolled and broke away from my kayak,  I was on my back with my feet downstream.  I had one hand locked to my paddle and the other latched to the floundering boat as I bobbed along in the Class III torrent. The turbulent and aerated waves frothed and bounded dishing out its fury on my body and boat. Keeping my feet pointed downstream, I  used my body to angle through the current maneuvering right or left, with the boat in front of me.  I kept my body long and streamlined to maneuver smoothly and efficiently. The goal now was not to get hurt.

"The world goes dark, " writer and adventurer Joe Kane said in his book Running the Amazon, a firsthand account of the only expedition ever to travel the entire 4,200-mile Amazon River from its source in Peru to the Atlantic Ocean, as he describes his swim through the abyss of churning rapids. "The river— the word hardly does justice to the churning mess enveloping you— the river tumbles you like so much laundry. It punches the air from your lungs. You're helpless. Swimming is a joke. You know for a fact that you are drowning. For the first time, you understand the strength of the insouciant monster that has swallowed you. Maybe you travel a hundred feet before you surface (the current is moving that fast). And another hundred feet—just short of a truly fearsome plunge, one that will surely kill you— before you see the rescue lines. You're hauled to shore wearing a sheepish grin and a look in your eye that is equal parts confusion, respect, and raw fear."

Erik was quick to my rescue after I had bounced like a floating beach ball through the big waves. "Let go of the boat and grab on," he yelled out. In a moment of hesitation, I clung to my boat even tighter rolling into the fury of the rapid. People forget to emphasize that on single boat trips, the backup plan is always self-rescue. It's good risk management to apply the buddy system to every river trip.

Erik Allen has what they call the water gene. A former Navy medic,  he has taken up adventure guiding as his true passion. He is at home on the water as he is on land. He often leads groups snowshoeing, camping and hiking as well as kayaking. He is used to taking care of others while out in the wild.
"Let go of the boat and grab on," he yelled again. I released my boat and watched it from the corners of my eyes drift away from me. "Give me your paddle!" I reached my paddle out from the waves. Erik snatched it from my hand. Then I swam with all my might to reach the back of his playboat. Stroke one, stroke two, and one more. The freezing water was leaving me breathless as his boat rushed ahead just out of reach. Another lunge forward and finally  I caught his stern handle as the waves punched at me again and again. As I caught breaths of air between the trough of waves,  I hung on tight to his boat as we were poured into a huge rapid.

Everyone should know about the potential for entrapment in moving water. I tried minimizing the risk of foot entrapment in moving water by keeping my feet up while hanging on the back of Eric's boat. My feet could act like hooks possibly to get caught between cracks in rocks or any type of nook or cranny on the bottom of the river. However in this improvised swimming position with my hands forward clutching Eric's kayak, I banged my knee and shins against the rocks. You would think after soaking for thousands of years they would be a little softer, but as we all know, rocks are very hard.

"Now swim, swim!' Erik shouted. I had turned from being a defensive swimmer to an aggressive one. Aggressive swimming is used to get from point A to point B as fast as possible. I let his boat go and with the American crawl kicked it into high gear,  setting a ferry angle to cross fast-moving current. Ferrying swimmers use the same techniques used when boating. Keep your head up so you can see where you are going, set a ferry angle and swim hard. Faster water uses a smaller angle and very slow water I could simply swim directly across at a 90 ° angle. As a former high school swimmer, I knew how to push my arms forward. Before long the I found some shallow rushing water.
After that long swim,  I was very tempted to stand up when I got close to the rocky and rough shore. The water was still moving very quickly and was deeper than my knees. Standing up to early I knew I could possibly get knocked down.  I took my time to stand when I found some decent footing. The only problem was it was on the wrong side of the river.

"You do not know how long you are in a river when the current moves swiftly. It seems a long time and it may be very short." Ernest Hemingway wrote in A Farewell to Arms. Joe Kane seems to follow it when he wrote, "That is River Lesson Number One. Everyone suffers it. And every time you get the least bit cocky, every time you think you have finally figured out what the river is all about, you suffer it all over again.”
I pretty much lost everything but my paddle. For boaters on the South Fork of the American River, Current Adventures Kayak School and Trips' Dan Crandall, offers these tips, "Any gear lost to the river will more likely end up in the reservoirs below, but in much worse condition than when it left you. All gear such as throw ropes and dry bags should be tied in and your name and phone number on each piece of your gear are always sound pieces of advice and will help tremendously in your gear's return." Mine gear, however, was lost for good.

"Catch your breath,"  Erik said, I sensed the stress in his voice, "We will go when you're ready." He said while peering downstream searching the shoreline for the missing boat. With every moment it was getting further and further downstream.

No man with any sense is going to willingly jump back into a freezing river again.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
Dripping, shaking and aching in pain, All I could say was "Let's go."
 I dove into the river clinging tightly to the playboats back handle. I didn't have time for fear and shook off the cold of the water. My goal was to push through or in my case be dragged over to the other side. Into another wave. It seemed to crash around us. I took gulps of air between plunges underwater. Losing track of time and feeling as the water and rocks beat down on my body.  Erik delivered me half-way and I had to swim the rest.

A lonely woman hiker watched the whole thing from the trail. As I climbed out of the river and limp up the side of the shore. She greeted me looking stunned.
"Should I call 911?" she asked.
 Still, out-breath and I shook my head no.
"Are you alright?"
I nodded and said breathlessly, "It's just another day on the North Fork of the American River."
"I almost died whitewater kayaking six years ago," she said with sympathy.
I laughed and said to her "It almost killed me today."
Then took off down the trail in search of Erik.

LOVE AND THE TANDEM KAYAK

 

 I thought when I said you wanted to go for a canoe ride that you'd actually help and paddle --William L. Bergenstein

In his book, author Gil Stieglitz in Marital Intelligence stresses five foolproof guides to strengthening your marriage. The book is being used as part of our couples enrichment class course work at our church. As I read through the book's five problems facing married couples, it struck me like being whacked over the head with a paddle, they also apply to canoeing and tandem kayaking.

Meeting Each Others' Needs  First of all, remember how you promised to take her on a luxury Viking River Cruise that you see in the commercial before Downtown Abbey.  Well, this isn't it. But, finding a little common ground is a good way to start. You are there to paddle, so your needs are met already. After you unload the boat, pack the lunch and the camping gear inside. Comfort is key, make sure her seat is dry and her gear is safe.  After that,  help her rub on her sun screen and push off. On a peaceful night with the setting sun, a cruise of beauty and inspiration will give you some great one on one time.

Immature Behaviors  Remember on the junior high church canoe trip how there was always that guy who splashed and swamped the girl's canoes and then laughed when they came out of the water soaking wet?  Those days are over. If you ever want to kayak with her again, the whole idea is to keep the water out of the boat and off your mate. Keep the craft stable and emphasize safety and fun. Remain calm and patient. Nothing sinks a boat trip faster than yelling at your inexperienced paddling partner. Providing a relaxed fun environment will ensure she will be eager to go again.

Clashing Temperaments  We often hear tandem kayaks or canoes being called "divorce boats" You put a couple in a boat to make them work together and often a squabble will ensue before getting to the other end of the lake. One will attempt to steer from the bow (front), while the mate will trying to navigate from the bow (back).  Before long they are going in circles or worse, crashing into rocks.
You should remember to work as a team and make compromises. Paddling is like dancing. Keep rhythm with your paddling partner by communicating direction, synchronizing to their strokes and where to stop for lunch or a good place to swim or hike.

 Competing relationships   Honey,...you're  just not listening to me, is a tandem kayaking conundrum. With the front rider is facing bow with their mouth and ears are pointing forward, it is difficult for the person in the stern to hear things like, Awe, look the cute little deer or  LOOK OUT FOR THE ROCK!
The bow (front) paddler is the eyes of the kayak and directs the stern (back) paddler around obstacles that can't be seen because their view is blocked. The person in front needs to look back when talking to their paddling partner.
The kayakers must also share the same tempo in paddling the boat. I like to paddle like a machine with powerful deep movements while Debbie's stroke resembles a dipping and chipping motion. I splash, while she leaves the water in the lake. I adjust my stroke to hers to avoid hitting our paddles. Slow it down and take it easy. And really, what is the hurry anyway?

Past Baggage  The reason you are out there in the first place is to have fun and get away for awhile. Leave the bills, laundry, and chores at home and enjoy the serenity of the lake. This is a chance for you both to energize your body, spirit and soul and find harmony in being together.

Paddling together is a successful marriage of working in partnership to get across the lake or down river. Sharing these experiences with a partner will hopefully bring your bond even closer.  Follow these rules and even in rough waters it will be a smooth ride.

 This article was originally published in Outside Adventure to the Max July 11, 2014.

OVER THE BOW: THE CONFLUENCE OF THE NORTH & MIDDLE FORK OF THE AMERICAN RIVER

We are deep at the bottom of this river of time, caught up in the current of the moment where all the rivers rendezvous.--- Lynn Noel

Over last summer and into fall, the water pouring into confluence of the North and Middle Forks of the American River part of Auburn SRA near Auburn, California, was almost nothing but a trickle. Downstream Folsom Lake stood at its lowest depth in history. As the water dried up, ruins of old towns were uncovered, boating speed limits were set and federal officials were engineering a special pumping system to make sure drinking water would keep flowing to Sacramento suburbs. However, after that long hot summer, the water flows have returned to the upper forks of the American River.

Following a month of persistent rain and snow in Northern California, lake levels are triple what they were in early December of last year. Due to runoff from recent rains in the foothills and Sierra, Folsom Lake rose to 104 percent of historical average earlier this week, with about 529,000 acre feet of water. Lake levels have rebounded so fast, in fact, that after four years of drought, officials at the Bureau of Reclamation, which manages the water in the reservoir are talking about releasing water downstream in the near future to mitigate flood risks caused by a wet winter and an increasingly full lake. "There are legal requirements for maintaining safe space in the reservoir," Louis Moore, spokesman for the Bureau of Reclamation told Fox 40 News. The Bureau of Reclamation is pleased with the amount of space available in Folsom Lake and say because the ground was so dry, much of the water from recent rains has soaked into the ground, giving the reservoir plenty of storage space despite recent heavy rains upstream.

Upstream at the confluence, plenty water means plenty of waves. Underneath the Highway 49 Bridge, after the two streams join, the river bends to the right, jaunts down the bank before smashing into the right edge of the river followed by a sharp bank in a sharp curve to the left. With enough cfs  a recirculating eddy develops offering area boaters an enjoyable surfing wave to either begin or end their journey at this popular put in or take out site.

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

OVER THE BOW: THE CONFLUENCE OF THE NORTH & MIDDLE FORK OF THE AMERICAN RIVER

We are deep at the bottom of this river of time, caught up in the current of the moment where all the rivers rendezvous.--- Lynn Noel

Over last summer and into fall, the water pouring into the confluence of the North and Middle Forks of the American River part of Auburn SRA near Auburn, California, was almost nothing but a trickle. Downstream Folsom Lake stood at its lowest depth in history. As the water dried up, ruins of old towns were uncovered, boating speed limits were set and federal officials were engineering a special pumping system to make sure drinking water would keep flowing to Sacramento suburbs. However, after that long hot summer, the water flows have returned to the upper forks of the American River.

Following a month of persistent rain and snow in Northern California, lake levels are triple what they were in early December of last year. Due to runoff from recent rains in the foothills and Sierra, Folsom Lake rose to 104 percent of historical average earlier this week, with about 529,000-acre-feet of water. Lake levels have rebounded so fast, in fact, that after four years of drought, officials at the Bureau of Reclamation, which manages the water in the reservoir are talking about releasing water downstream in the near future to mitigate flood risks caused by a wet winter and an increasingly full lake. "There are legal requirements for maintaining safe space in the reservoir," Louis Moore, spokesman for the Bureau of Reclamation told Fox 40 News. The Bureau of Reclamation is pleased with the amount of space available in Folsom Lake and say because the ground was so dry, much of the water from recent rains have soaked into the ground, giving the reservoir plenty of storage space despite recent heavy rains upstream.

Upstream at the confluence, plenty water means plenty of waves. Underneath the Highway 49 Bridge, after the two streams join, the river bends to the right, jaunts down the bank before smashing into the right edge of the river followed by a sharp bank in a sharp curve to the left. With enough cfs a recirculating eddy develops offering area boaters an enjoyable surfing wave to either begin or end their journey at this popular put in or take out site.

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

SNOWSHOE SERENADE

 Alas! Alas! Life is full of disappointments; as one reaches one ridge there is always another and a higher one beyond which blocks the view.--- Fridtjof Nansen

There is a quiet hush in the trees. A reverberation coming through the pines of snow being crunched and breaths of cold mountain air being drawn. The slopes of the Sierra Nevada Mountains glisten a splendid wintry white luster. My wife, Debbie and I had hoped to get all the way up to Loon Lake. It's one of my favorite spots west of Lake Tahoe but found the roads clogged with snow and impassable even with a four-wheeled-drive. We had to settle for parking along the Wentworth Springs Road miles past Stumpy Meadows Reservoir in the Eldorado National Forest.

My senses awaken after the sleepy truck trip into the mountains. The fresh cool air touches my face and pours into my lungs, giving me, that great feeling of just being alive. Winter is the Sierra seems to do that. Naturalist John Muir must of had that same exhilaration when he wrote,  "It is on the mountain tops, when they are laden with loose, dry snow and swept by a gale from the north, that the most magnificent storm scenery is displayed. The peaks along the axis of the Range are then decorated with resplendent banners, some of them more than a mile long, shining, streaming, waving with solemn exuberant enthusiasm as if celebrating some surpassingly glorious event."

At the road, we strap our modern-day snowshoes to our boots. Gone are the days of old wooden tennis racket looking contraptions trekking through the snow. Today's snowshoes are lighter and tougher,  built with strong aluminum frames, durable material for flotation, and bindings that support all types of boots. Sleek in design most snowshoes are between 25-36 inches long with your weight determining the length your need. And it's as simple as walking. Most can go from beginner to practically an expert in a few steps.

We move quickly down the snowed-in forest road in out of the shadows of the mountain pines. Our shoes maybe be modern, but our method of travel is ancient. Experts say that snowshoeing is thought to have originated about 6,000 years ago, making it one of the oldest known inventions by humans. In his book, Snowshoeing, Gene Prater, wrote, "Without the snowshoe/ski, aboriginal people would not have been able to expand over, and occupy, the northern hemisphere." He stated that trappers, hunters and later pioneers found that their snowshoes were indispensable in settling the continent. "During the great westward expansion period," he wrote, "Snowshoes were equally as important as the ax and flintlock rifle in the zones where snow lay deep throughout the winter season."

In his story Burning Daylight, Jack London recants a tale of what it was like snowshoeing in the Yukon Territory during the Alaskan Gold Rush in 1893.  While our hike through the forest is an enjoyable wintry excursion, London takes its allure away with his stark description of the plodding through the drifts.

They plodded days upon days and without end over the soft, unpacked snow. It was hard, monotonous work, with none of the joy and blood-stir that went with flying over hard surface. Now one man to the fore in the snowshoes, and now the other, it was a case of stubborn, unmitigated plod. A yard of powdery snow had to be pressed down, and the wide-webbed shoe, under a man's weight, sank a full dozen inches into the soft surface. Snowshoe work, under such conditions, called for the use of muscles other than those used in ordinary walking. From step to step the rising foot could not come up and forward on a slant. It had to be raised perpendicularly. When the snowshoe was pressed into the snow, its nose was confronted by a vertical wall of snow twelve inches high. If the foot, in rising, slanted forward the slightest bit, the nose of the shoe penetrated the obstructing wall and tipped downward till the heel of the shoe struck the man's leg behind. Thus up, straight up, twelve inches, each foot must be raised every time and all the time, ere the forward swing from the knee could begin.

We find serenity in the trees. In the shadows, there is a chill in the air while in the sunlight sustaining warmth. It's an even trail leading down into a valley. Across the basin, we can see the remains of what a forest fire left behind, while in another spot we cross a treeless boneyard of its aftermath. The white of the snow concealing its disfigurement. As the sun begins to set through the blackened sticks of the forest are ablaze again in a smoldering winter haze.

It is easy to find our trail back to the truck. Instead of breadcrumbs, we had left giant footprints in the snow. We sense an urgency on the way back not wanting to get stuck on the roads choked- with snow in the dark. In the fading light winding through the trees and rock in the crunching snow, I can relate to the feeling Muir had when he wrote, “Long, blue, spiky-edged shadows crept out across the snow-fields, while a rosy glow, at first scarce discernible, gradually deepened and suffused every mountain-top, flushing the glaciers and the harsh crags above them. This was the alpenglow, to me the most impressive of all the terrestrial manifestations of God. At the touch of this divine light, the mountains seemed to kindle to a rapt, religious consciousness, and stood hushed like devout worshippers waiting to be blessed.”

It's a nice bit of tranquility, till a London like harshness interrupts when Debbie reminds me, "People die out here all the time,  we better get moving."

Renaissance Man: An Interview with Corran Addison

 

In the renaissance of water sports, South African Corran Addison has touched all aspects.  A canoeist and kayaker, a surfer and surfboard and kayak designer, he been at the foremost of paddling innovation. An Olympian in the 1992 Summer Olympics in Barcelona, Addison competed for South Africa in a number of world freestyle kayaking championships, winning more events than any other competitor in the years 1993 to 1999.  In 1987, Addison successfully ran 101-foot vertical drop into Lake Tignes in France at the time one of the highest waterfall kayaking attempts ever made.
Addison has not only made his mark as a competitor but a designer as well while working for Perception Kayaks,  Riot Kayaks, and Dragorossi. He is credited with the developing the planing-hull kayak a technology used in most modern whitewater kayaks.  In 2003 he moved on with an interest in surfing and stand up paddle boards in both a competitive and design.  He formed Corran SUP in 2012 and sold the brand to Kayak Distribution in January 2015.
Innovated and always controversial, Addison gives us his keen insight into the world of whitewater paddling in both SUPs and kayaking from where it all began and its bright future.

NC: You’ve been on the scene for a long time now and have seen a lot of revolutions. How has water sports, SUPs and kayaking changed in your lifetime?
CA: It has changed a lot in my life-time because of where I learned to kayak, in South Africa in the 1970s. South Africa was completely detached from the rest of the world because of Apartheid sanctions against the country. So when I started to kayak it wasn't like in the US, where you walk into a store and you could buy a life jacket, spray skirt, helmet, paddle and a boat and go paddling. I mean by the 1970s there were plastic boats in production in both the United States and Canada. By 1972 there were two companies making mass-produced plastic boats and before then you could still go and buy a fiberglass boat from any one of a dozen manufacturers in the United States and two to three dozen manufacturers in Europe who were producing fiberglass Kevlar kayaks.

So we had to design either a boat or find a mold somewhere and just figure out ourselves how to produce them. So the boats we were paddling were very rudimentary. We didn't even know about the Eskimo roll, didn't know what a brace was and didn't have spray skirts. We didn't know about spray skirts. That came years later. After we started kayaking, we figured out to cover up the cockpit and made paddles out of plywood and closet dowels. So in my lifetime kayaking has changed enormously from that to what kayaking is today.

But you could say that essentially if you took my commercial lifetime, my modern lifetime, when I started paddling in the United States and working for Perception in 1988, from then to now: Even in that almost 30 year period of time kayaking has changed. In many ways, it changed significantly and in some ways, it hasn't changed that much. If you consider the Perception Dancer as an example, by 1988-89 it was linear shell instead of a cross-linked shell with cockpit thigh brace seat, foot braces and center bracing in the boat. It didn't have a back band and the cockpit was small, but, it had safe grab loops that you could tie into in case of a pin. We had neoprene spray skirts and fiberglass and carbon paddles and things like this, so here again kayaking was relatively advanced.

In another sense, we haven't really moved forward that far either. If you look at the latest kayaks that are on the market they are still a rotomolded polyethylene with your basic seat, thigh brace and foot brace in the boats. The outfits have gotten a little fancier, it all moves around a little bit easier and you have to spend less time with glue and foam getting your boat fit. But, in many ways, the technology that we’re using to manufacture a kayak in 2016 is almost identical to the technology of 1988. That is pretty sad when you think about it. We haven't in thirty years come up with a better way of making a kayak.

On the flip side, you look at what boating was in the late 1980s in the United States anyway. An overflowing creek in the Southeast was considered the epiphany of what was possible to run. It was steep. It was shallow. It was rocky and people were getting pinned in there in their pointy low rocker small cockpit Dancers. The understanding of how to boof was still very limited. You paddled up to a drop as fast as you could and hope that your nose came up and you didn't hit something on the way down. And you look at what the kids are doing today, wherein 1988 if you were running a 20-foot waterfall you were something special. Today, guys are doing 8 or 9 loops in an afternoon over 50-footers. They will go to a 50-footer and run it a dozen times and run successfully. There is no luck involved. It is exact and it's precise. So technically what we are doing with kayaks has come along way, even if the technology of how we are making kayaks really hasn't changed much.

Rodeo or freestyling in the late 1980s was side surfing a hole and doing flat spins on the corners with some paddle twirls, eating a banana and juggling. By the mid to late 1980s, you had the guys on the west coast who were starting to figure out rolls and vertical moves, into staying in the hole or wingover as they called it. By about 1991, the first cartwheels were becoming relatively commonplace. In 1993 there fewer than 30 to 40 people in the world who were linking 15 ends in a row in cartwheeling and split wheeling and everything else. And you look at the aerial stuff that has come along in the late 90s and how it has exploded in the 2000s, being combined into multiple axis rotations and at the same time going six to seven feet in the air. It has come a long way.

NC: What big changes do you see on the horizon: are boards going to bigger or smaller in the future?
CA: Like anything form follows function. The surf shapes are getting smaller and smaller. The board that I surf on I can barely stand on. My ankles are on the water level. So the whole board is underwater which means that I'm paddling a board which has negative floatation for my weight. But it's a park and play. I can paddle out into the eddy line out on to the wave, but that's about it. I'm not going anywhere on that.

At the same time, the creek boards or boards for running rivers are getting bigger and in that sense, they are getting wider. They are getting shorter. They started around ten feet in about 2008, but the one I'm on now is 8 ½ feet long and went from 32 to 33 inches wide to about 35 to 36 inches wide.
For your average hardcore river running, creek boating, whitewater SUP slalom or boardercross: the tops are narrower, probably closer to 30 inches and they are about 10 1/2-feet long, which is an unspoken rule that most of the events. Someone came up with 10 1/2-feet and that where it stuck.

So it hard to say if they are going to get bigger or smaller. Form does follow function and it depends on what we are doing with them. But it going to interesting to see.

NC: You recently teamed up with Waterlust filmmaker Patrick Rynne, ripping up the river while paddling a SUP. Tell us about that experience?
CA: It was an interesting experience. We didn't run anything particularly hard. It was all relatively easy stuff that we were running. But it was great to work with a film crew who were absolutely on the ball. These guys didn't mess around. They were willing to put their several thousands of dollars worth of camera equipment in jeopardy. I almost knocked what they call the squirrel cam into the water a number of times when they got so close to me. I actually hit it with my paddle and almost knocked it into the water, and that would have been the end of that. They took their time to set some stuff up, which means lots of time sitting around waiting for stuff to happen. But their footage was fantastic.

So it was a real pleasure to work with those guys. Dan Devio is always such a pleasure to paddle with. He is really one of the better paddlers out there. I have paddled with him now for 30 years, and we have a great relationship when we paddle together. We just know what seems to be working and there is a lot of nonverbal communication that goes on. So I always enjoy paddling with him. So overall it was a great experience. I hope to do more like it, possibly with the Waterlust crew or other crews like it.

NC: So is there a future in SUPs and whitewater?
CA: I think absolutely yes! I'm speaking to the older crowd of kayakers if you live somewhere, where there is Class III or II section of river that is near your house and you have run this thing a 1000 times. You reach a point to where you're no longer getting any better and you don't paddle often enough anymore. The kids are all getting better and better, and you have just sort of been stagnating or even possibly getting worse than you once were due to life commitments and things like that. Age and achy bones and sore muscles.

And what SUP does is offers a challenge and that sensation and newness. That feeling of getting better every time you go, that was so attractive about kayaking when these people first started. You remember back when you first learned to kayak and every time you went out, you were better when you got home than when you when you left at the beginning of that day. There was this feeling of progression that was exciting and addicting.

And what SUP does is it brings that to people without having to throw in the element of death. In other words, you don't have to challenge yourself in Class V whitewater in order to feel like you're challenging yourself and moving forward. And that is a huge draw for people.

It's also generally cheaper than kayaks. It's nice to be able to go out and buy a new toy and it's not cost you a thousand, two thousand or three thousand dollars, so that is very attractive. I think there is a massive draw towards it and we are seeing it definitely in sales. It is arguably easier to sell a couple hundred whitewater paddle boards than a couple hundred kayaks. Now there is less competition of course, and that's a big part of it.

But, also I think now we're going to see some of the youth interested. This last year, I ran a section of the Rouge River of the Seven Sisters which is in notorious for giving people some beat downs. It's not super challenging Class V, but there is some potential for beat downs, there’s some potential for some pain and some hold downs and some swims. The World Class Academy, this massive group of kids, were there kayaking these drops and having a good time. I just happen to be there at the same time with my SUP running some drops. And it was an eye-opener! A number of these kids came up to me afterward and say, 'This was the first time they had ever seen a SUP that was legitimate.' There wasn't somebody just wobbling their way down a class II rapid trying desperately not to fall in, half the time on their knees or in a low brace, hunched over like an old man. I was running legitimate rapids and I was sticking some of them, not all them.

NC: What hasn't changed about water sports that keeps bringing you back?
CA: Mountains, rivers, movements.  I love my time in California, I spent 5 years living at the beach in California surfing every day. But when you're surfing you drive to where you are going to be. For the most part, you paddle out and you stay there for the whole session. You can paddle up and down the coast, but you generally have to do that on a bigger board and when you get to a break, your board is too big to be any fun. So generally speaking if you're a high-performance surfer you drive where you want to go, and if you do a 3-hour session, three hours later the view is like exactly the same as it was when you started. It never changes. I missed the feeling of getting on a river and going downstream, watching the banks pass by, seeing the mountains come by; that feeling of adventure you have from the movement of going somewhere. So while in California I was making these long drives to places to go paddling, either SUP or kayak and I realized that it would be much easier if I just moved somewhere where the kayaking is great. Kayaking is always good to me here in Montreal, Canada so that is why I moved here as a base. Already in the last few months, I've done more paddling than I did in the last 5 years. So I'm very excited.

NC: You have made this your life's work. Anything you are most proud of? How much has that made an impact on the sport?
CA: You know it hasn't always felt like work. That is the nice thing about what I have managed to do with my life. A lot of it has been fun. I look back on the days when I was with Riot and the team over there and the fun that we had. And when I moved on Draggo, I spent a lot of time in Italy, learned the language, made a lot of friends over there and spent a lot of time paddling in Europe. It was really exciting and fun.

So it hasn't really been work. Even though sometimes you have to work. You have to grind fiberglass and which is not particularly exciting. You have to get on the phone and call dealers and make sales. But it's a small part of it. The fun part is developing and prototyping new ideas and building these things. Going out and using the products and seeing the excitement on other people's faces when they try something you've done or you have built, and how much pleasure it brings them to be in a boat or on a board or something that you came up with, that has changed their life, that is very rewarding.

What I'm most proud of? The Olympic Games, it's hard to beat that. On the professional level, I mastered the concept of the planing hull for a whitewater kayak or freestyle kayak. If you look at what kayaking was before the first one that I did - the Fury - and what people were doing in kayaks within one year of having it (the first successful planing hulled boat) developed, The Fury did really change the sport. All of the boats that you see on the market today are loosely based on the base concepts that I came up with for the Fury. Obviously, design concepts have evolved. If you went back and got in a Fury today, you’d probably think it was a piece of shit, compared to what is on the market today. But the boats that are on the market today wouldn't be here if it hadn't been for that boat.

You wouldn't have people doing bread and butter if we hadn't come up with the blunt and the air blunt. So these were critical things. Many people are doing the moves that I either invented or spins offs of the moves I started; I came up with most of the aerial moves and spin style moves that are done in a kayak today. And even the ones that I didn't come up with came from the ones I did come up with.

So it is great to see where kayaking is and know that I had a massive part to play. There were other people involved of course, but I had my part to play in it, it was a fairly sizable part, and it's nice to look back on it and say "WOW!" I look at the sport today and I'm in a large way responsible for where it is today, and it's a really good feeling.

The kids today that are creeking or freestyle are at a level which is vastly superior to anything that I ever was, even in my prime. But, that's the nature of things. Sports move forward. The new generation is always better than the old generation. But, it's still fun to see that what they are doing came from what we came up with.


This Q/A with Corran Addison was originally published in Dirt Bag Paddlers and DBP MAGAZINE ONLINE.