LIGHT SWITCH

The world is big and I want to have a good look at it before it gets dark.--- John Muir 

It's fall back time. This Sunday, the time flips back an hour to standard time. Great if you are an earlier riser in this light switch from evening to morning. However, losing the hour at the end of the day always surprises me. I'm not ready for the darkness, as the sun seems to slam into the horizon before my eyes. Exploding into little bits before disappearing into the night.

“There are very few things in the world I hate more than Daylight Savings Time," said author Michelle Franklin,  It is the grand lie of time, the scourge of science, the blight on biological understanding.”

She is right of course as many who don't enjoy the practice of Daylight Savings will attest. We don't lose or even gain for that matter a dose of sunlight with the time change, we lose it astronomically as the sun approaches its southernmost position, aka the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year in the Northern Hemisphere.

Still losing that golden hour at the end of the day seems unforeseen and unexpected for me. I can remember a fall paddle on the north arm of Folsom Lake. I had gotten a late start when I slid my kayak into the water on the south side of Doton's Point. The sun was already dipping behind some clouds and hovering over the horizon. It would be a race against it to see if I could finish before it set.

Now I had won the contest against the setting sun many times before while on summer nights camping. I would paddle out across the water watching that giant orange ball dissolve into the lake while I still have enough light to paddle back to the beach and light the campfire before nightfall. Twilight lingers in the summer, but not in autumn.

This time I was humbled. I didn't beat the night. I had paddled out too far and still had to come back. I tried to hurry back as fast as I could. My fingers and feet tingled as I pressed into the footpegs and paddle. But, no matter how fast I tried to paddle, the sun was gone and night had prevailed.

As a full moon rose over the foothills, I paddled back along the shoreline towards the lights of Folsom Dam.  The land and water amalgamated into the murkiness of the night. I can't say I was lost. I pretty much knew the lake and how to get back. But, without my headlamp, it was more like fumbling around in a dark bedroom trying to find the light switch. My truck was out there, I just had to find it.

The moonlight glistened on the water as I paddled up to Donton's Point. In the shadows, I could make out the silhouette of the truck's body parked along the beach. I was back at my starting point tired and a little relieved. I loaded up and drove away thinking, I better get an earlier start next time. It was only a little past 6 p.m.

That one-hour daylight switch from evening to the morning as we fall back to standard time begins this weekend. We don't go back to daylight saving until spring begins.

This article was originally published in Outside Adventure to the Max on November 3, 2017. 

 

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HAUNTED WATERS: 13 SPOOKY PLACES TO PADDLE

Photo Illustration by Deborah Ann Klenzman

Nothing in nature is that even; man is the inventor of straight edges. --- Stephen King

It's only in the daylight when we see our waterway playgrounds with wonder and magic. Our favorite lakes offer us that nostalgic serenity we recall from our summers as youths. We look to the bends in wild rivers, leading us on to either the rumble of rapids or floating lazily in the sun. And who doesn't love a day by the sea while watching those mighty waves crash against the shore?

Yes, yes, we will take ease near the water in light of day, where are our imaginations and our innermost fears are not exploited by the sun.
Yet it's in the night when those comforting waters and whimsical shorelines can turn foreboding. With each whisper of sound or shadow in the moonlight, our perceptions of uncertainty, dread, and fear can bewitch us.

In Algernon Blackwood's The Willows, a novella about an adventurous canoe trip down the River Danube it's the night that turns frightful when mysterious forces emerge from within the forest creating disturbing sounds and bizarre shadows.
"I felt of dread was no ordinary ghostly fear," the narrator tells us, "It was infinitely greater, stranger, and seemed to arise from some dim ancestral sense of terror more profoundly disturbing than anything I had known or dreamed of. We had “strayed,” as the Swede put it, into some region or some set of conditions where the risks were great, yet unintelligible to us; where the frontiers of some unknown world lay close about us."

So what's out there enshrouded in or along the watery brink? Is it a ghostly presence from the past? A spirit wandering lost or a phantom bent on destruction.
Or is it just a concoction of some old scary tales meant to make us cringe and look over shoulders in apprehension on a cool October night. What do you believe?

So whether you're daring or doubtful here are few of our nation's haunted waters you might want to paddle (if got the nerve), this Halloween or anytime, for your opportunity to see a ghost.

Seguin Island Lighthouse, Maine

Coastal and Great Lakes lighthouses are filled with rich histories of triumph and tragedy. Stories from these desolated posts have shown both amazing courage as well as madness and murder. Due to the latter, it's no wonder so many lighthouses are considered haunted.

The Seguin Island Lighthouse located off the southern coast of Georgetown, Maine is no exception.

Seguin Island Lighthouse

Commissioned by George Washington in 1795, the lighthouse was rebuilt in 1819, replacing its original wooden tower with stone and then again in 1857 this time installing a bright powerful Fresnel lens into its tower on top of a rocky speck of land about two miles out to sea.

Considered one of the most haunted places in New England, scary tales abound about this lonely beacon.
Witnesses have reported having seen the ghost of a young girl who is said to be buried not far from the lighthouse grounds. They say, she has been seen running up and down the stairs of the tower, laughing and waving.
There are other accounts that the ghost of lighthouse's first keeper John Polereczky, nicknamed the Old Captain is still seen about the outpost at sea.
The story says Polereczky died penniless on the island in 1804 and ever since has haunted the tower and the keepers who came after him.
In 1985, while in process of decommissioning the lighthouse and packing up the place, the apparition of the Old Captain appeared at the bed of the warrant officer warning him not to take the furniture and to leave his home alone.
The very next day, the boat that was to carry that cargo back to the mainland, was sunk in a freak accident while being loaded with that very same furniture.
But perhaps the most frightening story is that of the lighthouse keeper and his wife.
To stave off the loneliness and monotony for his wife, the keeper ordered a piano to their island outpost. She was delighted, but unfortunately, she couldn't play without sheet music which she had only one.
Only able to play one song, she played it again and again and again, until eventually, it drove the lighthouse keeper insane. In a fit of madness, he took an axe and chopped the piano to bits. Then in his rage, he turned on his poor wife and killed her.
Realizing the ghoulish deed that he had just committed, he then took his own life too.
Ever since it's been said, that on foggy nights you can still hear that ghostly piano playing across the waves while both mariners and former keepers have claimed to have seen the ghost of the lightkeeper walking toward the sound carrying an axe.

Hessian Lake, New York
The Knickerbocker state is a bastion for ghostly tales and haunted places. Following the Hudson River upstream from New York City, you will come across the town of Sleepy Hollow where Washington Irving penned his classic tale of Icabod Crane and the Headless Horseman.
Keeping following the river even further and you will reach Bear Mountain State Park and Hessian Lake, perhaps the inspiration for the Hessian soldier looking for his head.
Hessian Lake is a peaceful crystalline body of water that sits at the base of the mountain. While no swimming is allowed, the lake is a perfect spot for kayaks and canoes. And because of the story of how the lake got its name, many folks wouldn't care to take a dip in it anyway.

Hessian Lake

During the Revolutionary War, British Redcoats and German Hessian auxiliaries soldiers engaged American Patriots in a fierce battle along the lake and river. The Americans held the ground behind a stockade wall and detachment of Hessian chasseurs led the charge to capture the fort. Repulsed, again and again, the Hessians and Redcoats eventually overwhelmed the Patriots, but at a great cost.
According to local legend, some 250 Hessians fell during the battle and their bodies and body parts were then cast into the lake. It was said, it turned the water red with blood, prompting it soon to be called "Bloody Lake."
Timothy Dwight who went on to become President of Yale College revealed the horrors of the lake after visiting its battlefield, “We found, at a small distance from Fort Montgomery, a pond of moderate size in which we saw the bodies of several men who had been killed in the assault upon the fort. They were thrown into this pond, the preceding autumn, by the British when probably the water was sufficiently deep enough to cover them. Some were covered at this time but at a depth so small as to leave them distinctly visible. Others had an arm, a leg, a part of the body above the surface...Their faces were bloated and monstrous and their postures were uncouth and distorted."
Years later, the name of the lake was eventually be changed to Hessian Lake, but the creepiness it seems has to have never left.
Ghost hunter Alexandria Holzer, told the local paper in 2016, "There are a lot of lost souls in that area."
Many folks have claimed to see uniformed Hessian spirits roaming the lake's shoreline at night. One even reported specter with missing limbs and glowing eyes.
Of course, that would rule out our Headless Horseman.

Beaver Lake & The French Broad River, North Carolina 

While enjoying a leisurely paddle along the edge of Beaver Lake, don't be surprised if you catch sight of beavers, turtles, osprey and maybe a ghost or two.
Man-made Beaver Lake near Asheville NC is said to have a reputation for ghostly activity after a number of drownings and apparent suicides that have occurred there.
According to local folklore, the lakeshore is haunted by two spirits. One is believed to be that of a young man who drowned in the 1970s, while the other is that of a young woman who is thought to have committed suicide. She is said to be seen on the dam looking down over the water.
While the ghosts of Beaver Lake seem to be lost in sadness, the Siren of the French Broad River is bent on fiendishness.

The French Broad River

Formed some 300 million years ago, the French Broad River is one of the oldest rivers in the world as it flows through Asheville, featuring great hiking and biking unlimited paddling opportunities, that is as long as you can avoid the siren.
Based on a Cherokee legend, the Siren of the French Broad River seems as old as the river itself. The story first appeared in 1845 and was later retold in Charles Montgomery Skinner's 1896 Myths and Legends of Our Own Land.
The tale involves a beautiful dark-skinned and dark-haired woman who enchants her young lovers to the upper reaches of the river that are filled with rapids and whirlpools. Luring them ever closer and closer to the water, she appears to them in the nude at the water edge. When reaching for her, her warm skin suddenly becomes scaly and cold and her face turns into a grinning skull of death. A loud, devilish laugh rings through the forest as her victim is yanked under the water,  never to be seen again.

Blackwater River, Florida
The Blackwater River is considered a favorite spot for canoeing, kayaking, and camping in Florida's panhandle. Streaming through undeveloped lands, paddling the river is said to be like going through beautiful tropical rainforest. But beware, for the Blackwater has two mysterious and sinister residents in its mist.
Locals will warn you to be careful when taking a dip. They say that there's a deathly pale looking woman with long jet-black hair smelling of rotting flesh who will drag you under the water attempting to drown you in the river. So far only a lucky few have escaped her vile clutches.
While in Blackwater River State Park, a woman wearing a long white gown covered with blood is said to appear near the oldest white Atlantic cedar tree in the park. Legend says she was sacrificed there in a bloody ritual.
Rumors now say, that people who visit the spot experience chills and have the feeling of being suffocated as results of all sacrificial rituals that took place there.
And one final warning. If you do see this ghostly woman is white, don't look in her eyes and runway. Otherwise, you could be next.

Tombigbee River, Alabama
Tales of ghost ships and phantom vessels are common folklore along both coast and the Great Lakes. Fleeting images of ships disappearing into the fog have been reported by sailors and beachcombers alike.

Tombigbee River

Over the years, witnesses have reported seeing “The Phantom Steamboat of the Tombigbee” fully engulfed in flames along the shore of  Alabama's Tombigbee River near Pennington, Alabama.
Side-wheeled paddle steamer Eliza Battle, was the most luxurious riverboat on the river until disaster claimed her on a cold winter night.
On March 1, 1858, she was fully loaded with more than 1,200 bales of cotton and carrying 101 passengers and crew when a fire broke out on the main deck. Panic ensued as the blaze spread over the boat. Passengers mostly in their nightclothes could only escape the flames by leaping into the icy river waters.
In the end, what was left of the ship sank leaving somewhere between 26 to 33 people dead due to mostly exposure in the freezing water.
Soon after the disaster, ghost stories began to circulate of witnesses seeing the ill-fated “Eliza Battle" ablaze again near the place where she sank accompanied by screams of people begging to be rescued. The sightings of the burning steamers are to happen mostly on cold and windy nights.

Mississippi River, Missouri & Illinois
From its source up in Minnesota all the way down to the Gulf of Mexico the Mississippi River is brimming with bigger-than-life stories and legends and of course, ghostly yarns.
And nowhere is the river most haunted than from Grand Tower, Illinois to just past Cape Girardeau, Missouri.

According to the local folklore, the paranormal activity likely stems from the two massive boat accidents and one spooky reunion at Tower Rock.
On an October night in 1869, the steamship Stonewall was traveling on the river when in caught fire in what became one of the worst disasters on the river.
It's estimated that the death toll was somewhere between 200 to 300. But, nobody knows for sure because the passenger list was burned up with the steamboat.
Witnesses reported watching The Stonewall burn for nearly two hours before sinking into the river on that eerily dark and quiet.
Seventeen-years later on another October night, the steamboat Mascotte's boiler exploded in engulfing that ship in a fire. Eyewitnesses said, as the fire raged, the ship's smokestack fell over the gangplank, trapping passengers attempting to escape. All in all, the river disaster claimed 35 lives.
Psychics say the spirits of the dead in these disasters still remain to this day. They have told of seeing the ghosts of these tragic ship fires making lonely pilgrimages back to the water from the local cemetery and of seeing unearthly hands and fingers reaching out of the dark river water.
And it's also not uncommon for barge captains and crews to observe unexplainable lights bouncing across the water and hearing ghostly screams and cries for help while passing through the spooky stretch of river.

Tower Rock

The nearby Tower Rock offers even more supernatural lore for the Big Muddy. The 60-foot rock formation has been a silent sentinel along the river throughout its history. Boatmen would celebrate passing by it with a drink of good cheer. River pirates used it as an ambush spot, and Meriwether Lewis of the Lewis & Clark would write about its peril: “strong currents thus meeting each other form an immense and dangerous whirlpool which no boat dare approach in that state of the water…”

But the spookiest story of the rock happened in 1839 when an entire wedding party's boat got caught in a giant whirlpool and sucked under the muddy waters. Only one slave survived.
On that very day, a baby niece to the groom was born and given the same name as the bride. And twenty years later to celebrate her birthday, she holds a party upon Tower Rock.
And as the story goes, the gathering was suddenly astonished when members of the wedding party arise out of the Mississippi River and present her with a mysterious parchment scroll forewarning her of the Civil War. After delivering the prophetic message the entire ghostly group once again disappeared into the murky waters of the river.

Yampa River, Colorado 

Stories of boaters encounter with La Llorona or The Weeping Woman have been told along river banks all the way from Montana to New Mexico. And, nowhere does legend live more than on the shores of Colorado's Yampa River, where the folktale warns, that if you hear La Llorona crying, you must run away as fast as you can.

Yampa River

The legend of The Weeping Woman has been a part of Hispanic culture in the Southwest dating back to the conquistadores. It is said, that La Llorona was the most beautiful girl in the village with long flowing black hair. She was very poor until she married a rich man. She loved him very much and blesses him with many children. But she is heartbroken when she finds out he was unfaithful. In her despair or jealous rage, she takes her children to the river cast each one of them into the river.
It's only then, when she sees her young children sinking into the current of the river, that she regrets her madness and rushes toward the water to save them. But, as the story goes, she either falls, striking her head or drowns suffering the same fate as her children.
And in death, her remorseful soul must now wander the shores of the river alone weeping for her children.
River boaters to this day, say they have heard her wailing along the river canyons. Wearing gown white, she is said to roam the rivers and creeks perpetually crying for her children.
It's also been told, that she is to be feared because some believe she will drag an unsuspecting victim and drown them in a watery grave like she did to her children.

Yellowstone Lake & The Lower Falls of the Yellowstone River, Wyoming
It's not surprising that the oldest and most famous national park abounds with legends, myths, and tall tales, but did you ever think that Yellowstone National Park was haunted too? And by the number of ghost stories reported in the park, bears aren't the only to look out for.
Two of the park's folklore favorites come from Yellowstone Lake and the Lower Falls.
Paddle out on to Yellowstone Lake, the park's largest body of water and you may come across the small and uninhabited Stevenson Island which some folks say is haunted.

E.C. Waters

The skeletal remains of the wrecked E.C. Waters steamboat lay beached along the island's shore, but if that not creepy enough there is a story about the body of a drowned frontiersman who appears lying facedown nearby.
As told in S.E. Schlosser's Creepy Yellowstone, in 1929 a park worker checking out the island stumbled upon a body clan in buckskin looking like a fur trapper from the prior century.
"I turned the body over and stared into a pair of bulging brown eyes on a blue-white face," said the worker in his account, "And then, in between one breath and the next, the body vanished. Suddenly my hand was gripping empty air instead of an old-fashioned jacket.
Spooked by the episode, The park worker quickly left the island on his boat saying, "No more ghosts for me!"
And even older ghostly tale dates back to 1870s when a group of Native Americans being pursued militiamen for stealing horses was swept over the 70-foot falls of the Lower Yellowstone.
As S.E. Schlosser told it in Creepy Yellowstone, the small band of Native Americans was no match for the well-armed militia. They hastily constructed a raft to cross the river above the falls in an attempt to get away.

The Lower Falls of the Yellowstone River

In a hail of bullets, men and women of the tribes' raft along with stolen horses swimming alongside were swept downstream in spite of their best paddling efforts.
The doomed craft moved closer and closer to the falls, "carrying the wailing women and the unmoving braves, who began chanting a soft death-song."
In silence, the members of the militia watched as the raft and slipped over the edge of the falls disappearing into the roaring white foam with its human cargo.
And to this day, it's said, that when you stand on the platform at the brink of the Lower Falls of Yellowstone, you can still hear the voices of the chanting warriors singing their death song over the roar of the falls. And sometimes, the river water flows with a red tinge, as if stained with blood.

The Great Salt Lake, Utah
The creepy tale of Jean Baptiste is a ghoulish one indeed. A gravedigger in Salt Lake City, Baptiste was discovered to have been stealing clothes and jewelry from the bodies he had buried.
Over three years, Baptiste was said to have robbed the graves of more than 300 people, stripping them of clothing and possessions, before dumping their naked bodies back in the caskets.

The Great Salt Lake

The public was outraged for such a loathsome crime, but the case didn't call for his hanging. But even so, the local authorities devised an especially cruel punishment. First, his forehead was marked with the sentence, “Branded For Robbing The Dead.” Next, his ears were cut off, and then so no one would ever have to look at him again, he was banished to a remote island in the Great Salt Lake.
Baptiste was paddled out to Fremont Island, the lake's third-largest island on its eastern side and pretty much left there to die.
Weeks past before authorities came to check up on Baptiste but found no sign of him anywhere.
There was speculation that he built a makeshift raft and drown in the lake while trying to escape, while another story says, vengeful citizens came island to exact their own justice. Years later, it was said, hunters found a skeleton believed to be Baptiste's with leg irons.
All that matters is, he was never seen alive again. His ghost, however, still haunts the isle and the great lake.
It's been reported that the ghastly apparition of Jean Baptiste has been spotted along the lakeshore carrying an armful of wet and rotting deadmen's clothes before walking towards the water and then disappearing into thin air.

Cannon Beach, Oregon
At the northwest corner of Oregon, you'll find the idyllic coastal town of Cannon Beach offering windswept beaches, stunning coastline views and of course its share of spine-tingling tales
The Argonauta Inn Beach House is said to be haunted by the spectral presence of Genghis Hansel.

Cannon Beach

No one seems to know anything about him except he was a guest of the hotel before he disappeared without a trace during a storm in 1952. Today's hotel patrons have reported feeling his foreboding presence while staying there. Our guess is, he must have really liked the room service.
About the same time that Genghis Hansel's ghost started spooking the beach house, The Bandage Man, began scaring the bejebus out of the area's teenagers at the secluded makeout spot along the beach.
Apparently, the "The Bandage Man" completely kills the mood when he shows up in the rearview mirror completely wrapped in bandages and smelling of rotting flesh.
Said to be a victim of some terrible sawmill accident, the phantom shakes and pounds on the car or truck doors and windows causing the young couples to scream in terror.
In some stories, he quickly disappears, while in others, after the couples escape by driving back to town, it's only then they discover the bloody fingerprints on their vehicle's door and windows.

So what do you believe? Are these just creepy stories passed down over the years? Or are there really ghostly spirits out there. Whatever you believe, these tales have become intertwined with the history and lore of these waterways. They have captured our imaginations and provide us with an opportunity for a spooky paddling adventure to go see it for ourselves. But, only if you dare. 

Happy Halloween

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MY WALDEN

"A lake is the landscape's most beautiful and expressive feature. It is Earth's eye; looking into which the beholder measures the depth of his own nature." - Henry David Thoreau

It's a right turn. Another right after a block. Then down the hill and across the bridge. To my right, is the river, to my left is the lake. A left turn towards the park entrance and through the gate. A wave to the park attendant gate and then turn left into the parking lot. The kayak comes off the roof and slides into the water.
I'm on the lake now and paddling hard to cross it. Only a little further to go as I  round the bend into quiet waters. My kayak whisperers as I glide through the culvert under the bike trail. I'm there now. My own personal Walden.

Walden or Life in the Woods written by philosopher and naturalist Henry David Thoreau, in 1854, is a reflection upon living simply in nature's surroundings. Thoreau detailed his daily experiences over the course of two years, two months, and two days in a cabin he built near Walden Pond in the woods owned by his friend and mentor, Ralph Waldo Emerson near Concord, Massachusetts.

"In such a day, in September or October, Walden is a perfect forest mirror, set round with stones as precious to my eye as if fewer or rarer. Nothing so fair, so pure, and at the same time so large, as a lake, perchance, lies on the surface of the earth. Sky water. It needs no fence. Nations come and go without defiling it. It is a mirror which no stone can crack, whose quicksilver will never wear off, whose gilding Nature continually repairs; no storms, no dust, can dim its surface ever fresh; — a mirror in which all impurity presented to it sinks, swept and dusted by the sun's hazy brush — this the light dust-cloth — which retains no breath that is breathed on it, but sends its own to float as clouds high above its surface, and be reflected in its bosom still." -Henry David Thoreau

Some 160 years later, I find this same peace and solitude paddling in the sloughs of Lake Natoma. There is only one way in and one way out. No rush after that. Only a watery path meandering through little islands that geese, ducks, and frogs call home. Along the way, I hear the plop of turtles falling off the dead logs into the water. I can see them for only moments before they slip under the dark water. I'm just a little too close, I suppose.

There is a touch of color along the banks. Bright reds and dull yellows in the trees give notice that it is autumn in northern California. Blackberry bushes line the water's edge. Weeks ago they were full of ripe berries, but they are mostly gone now. Up and away, towards the end of the slough, cattails take over the view. Ducks and deer are common here. The deer stand motionless hoping not to be seen before escaping into the woods, while the ducks swim about used to visitors.

The kayak makes little sound gliding through the water. My paddle slides in and out methodically.  There is no hurry at my Walden.

This article was originally published in Outside Adventure to the Max on October 31. 2014 

 

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OVER THE BOW: THE KETTLE RIVER

Only fools run rapids, say the Indians, but I know this: as long as there are young men with the light of adventure in their eyes and a touch of wildness in their souls, rapids will be run... I know it is wrong, but I am for the spirit that makes young men do the things they do. I am for the glory that they know. --- Sigurd Olson

The fast-moving reddish-brown root beer colored rushes over the rocks past rugged cliffs and a heavy forest of black spruce, pine and aspen making Minnesota's Kettle River one of the state's most scenic and wild rivers. Offering an array of complex rapids along a stretch at Banning State Park filled with waves, holes and many play spots, it's a place I just had to paddle.

My son Cole and I had traveled all the way across the state just to get there during a father-son kayak camping trip in the fall of 2011. It was a chance to practice our developing paddling skills and play with our whitewater kayaks.

Just past the park's boat access, we paddled the river's Blueberry Slide (a Class II in low water rapid; Class IV in high water).  This rapid is considered to be one of the most challenging in the park as the water tumbles over sandstone ledges and rocks, forming the rapids. In the springtime, this spot can offer some pretty tall waves, but in that fall the water was very low giving us chance to surf and practice running the bumpy water. We found the slide mostly dry with the deepest water in a channel along the left side brushing up against the rocky ledges for about 100 or more yards.

Like kids in an amusement park, we ran down those dancing waves and over the ledges over and over again.

The next day we packed up our kayaks and headed toward the North Shore of Lake Superior, but that's another story.

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, we would love to see it. Submit it to us at nickayak@gmail.com

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WHITEWATER, OCTOBER 1805

Photo courtesy of the National Geographic Production 2002 of Lewis & Clark: Great Journey West.

"October 13, 1805, the canoes ran down this channel swifter than any horse could run." --Joseph Whitehouse

In the fall of 1805 the Corps of Discovery put their newly fashion dugout canoes into the fast-moving Clearwater River and for the first time in nearly two years had the current to their back. Captains Meriwether Lewis and William Clark had faced many nautical challenges since leaving St. Louis, Missouri, in May of 1804, but nothing in their experience had prepared them for the falls and rapids that lay ahead on what is now Idaho and eastern Washington.

As Stephen Ambrose pointed out in his book Undaunted Courage, "The dugout canoes were cumbersome. They overturned or grounded on rocks. They swamped, They sprung leaks. Supplies were damaged, trade goods lost. Men's lives were endangered. The captains ran the rapids anyway, as many as fifteen in a day."

"October 7, 1805, All the canoes in the water. We load and set out, after fixing all our poles &c...Proceed on, passing many bad rapids. One canoe, that in which I went in front, sprung a leak in passing the third rapid." ---William Clark  

Whitewater rapids are rated according to difficulty from Class I (easy flow and small waves) to Class VI (virtually unrunnable). Even with today’s high-tech kayaks and rafts, Class V rapids are not included on most commercial river trips. Navigating the rocks, waves, dangerous currents, and steep drops of Class V rapids require scouting and expert paddling skills. The men of the Corps of Discovery had to develop these skills along the way if they expected to survive.

William Clark's map of the Clearwater River

"October 8, 1805, One of the canoes struck a rock in the middle of the rapid and swang around and struck another rock and cracked hir so that it filled with water. The waves roared over the rocks and some of the men could not swim. There they stayed in this doleful situation until we unloaded one of the other canoes and went and released them." ---John Ordway

"October 14, 1805, In passing through a short rapid opposite the head of an island, ran on a smooth rock and turned broadside. The men got out on the rock, all except one of our Indian chiefs, who swam on shore. The canoe filled and sank. A number of articles floated out." ---William Clark

They were nearing the junction of the Snake and Columbia Rivers. It was late in the season and urgency was on their minds. They needed to cover miles no matter what unknown rapids roar ahead and around the bend. In their rush, they were taking many chances in paddling on the rough water.
The local tribes, expert canoeists themselves knew their risks as they gathered sometimes by the hundreds waiting for the inevitable disaster. Surely the white men would drown and they would be able to gather all the abandon equipment for themselves. But to their surprise the cleared the rapids losing only a few shot pouches, some bedding, and clothing, but never a canoe, rifle or man.

"October 16, 1805, Determined to run the rapid. Put our Indian guide in front, our small canoe next, and the other four following each other. The canoes all passed over safe except the rear canoe, which ran fast on a rock at the lower part of the rapids. With the early assistance of the canoes and the Indians, who were extremely alert, everything was taken out, and the canoe got off without any injury...At 14 miles passed a bad rapid, at which place we unloaded and made a portage of 3/4 of a mile, having passed 4 smaller rapids." ---William Clark

About a week later the Corps of Discovery encountered Celilo Falls. The beginning of a 55-mile stretch of the Columbia River proved to be the most difficult and dangerous part of their journey through the Pacific Northwest.

Celilo Falls 1899

October 23, 1805, I, with the greater part of the men, crossed in the canoes to the opposite side of the falls and hauled them across the portage of 457 yards, which is on the larboard side and certainly the best side to pass the canoes. I then descended through a narrow channel, about 150 yards wide, forming, a kind of half-circle in its course of a mile.---William Clark

The portage of over the falls gave them little trouble. The explosive Short Narrows and The Long Narrows were another matter. The Short Narrows was a 45-yard wide single channel of raging whitewater. The local Indians considered them impassable. Clark and the corps' best boatman, Peter Cruzatte went ahead to scout it out for themselves. Above the roar of the water, they saw what Clark would later write, "Whorls and swells arising from the compression of the water."
They agreed, that the portage of their heavy canoes over the high rocks would be nearly impossible and by good steering and avoiding the rocks they could make it through safely.

October 24, 1805, I determined to pass through this place notwithstanding the horrid appearance of this agitated gut, swelling, boiling, and whorling in every direction which, from the top of the rock, did not appear as bad as when I was in it. However, we passed safe, to the astonishment of all the Indians, who view us from the top of the rock.---William Clark

October 24, 1805, We went through a place where the river was all confined in a narrow channel of about 20 yards wide, (with) high rocks on each side the current very rapid and full of whirlpools. We ran down (it) very fast."--- Joseph Whitehouse

The Short Narrows of the Columbia 1950

The next morning the men repeated the scene again at the Long Narrows. The non-swimmers and the valuable baggage portaged around the rapids while the rest of the party shot through them in the dugout canoes.
  
"October 25, 1805, The three first canoes passed through very well; the fourth nearly filled with water; the last passed through by taking in a little water. Thus, safely below what I conceived to be the worst part of this channel, felt myself extremely gratified and pleased. 
We loaded the canoes and set out, and had not proceeded more than 2 miles before the unfortunate canoe which filled crossing the bad place above, ran against a rock and was in great danger of being lost. This channel is through a hard rough black rock, from 50 to 100 yards wide, swelling and boiling in a most tremendous manner." ---William Clark

The Long Narrows 1951

With no question, today's whitewater kayakers and rafters would enjoy the thrill of retracing the Corps of Discovery's trek through these incredible sections of whitewater, if they only could. But alas, most of these challenging rapids are just memories now, after being submerged behind a series of hydroelectric dams built in the 1950s.

William Clark's comments are from The Journals of Lewis And Clark, edited by John Bakeless, copyright 1964. Joesph Whitehouse's comments are from the Orginal Journals of Lewis & Clark Expedition 1804-1806, Volume 7. John Ordway's comment is from The Definitive Journals of Lewis and Clark, Vol 9: John Ordway and Charles Floyd.

This article was originally published in Outside Adventure to the Max on October 20, 2017. 

 

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AUTUMNAL PALETTE & PADDLE

I am struck by the simplicity of light in the atmosphere in the autumn, as if the earth absorbed none, and out of this profusion of dazzling light came the autumnal tints. ---Henry David Thoreau

It was, what I call a Thoreau type morning. A chill in the air, colors blazing and the lake water was as smooth as glass on a calm October morning. At the water's edge a thin line between the absoluteness of the shoreline and its upside-down illusory reflection. It seemed as I was destroying a cherished work of art as the bow of my kayak fractured the water's surface sending it into a thousand splinters with each ripple with each forward stroke. In was the distance the slight hum of traffic a reminder of frenzied away from this solitude, ahead of the quiet and nostalgic feel of autumn's embrace.

Maplewood State Park.

“A lake is a landscape's most beautiful and expressive feature." wrote American writer and conservationist Henry David Thoreau, "It is earth's eye; looking into which the beholder measures the depth of his own nature.”
In 1845, he set out to live a simple and solitary life on the banks of Walden Pond near Concord, Mass. It was there that he would write his best-known works, Walden and Civil Disobedience in penciled scribbled notes giving meditative descriptions of the sights, sounds and smells of the things around him. The woods and lakes seem to inspire and invigorate him.

Later in life, he would celebrate the seasonal change of fall and the continuing cycle of nature by welcoming it by and giving us a way to see every autumn. "Visible for miles, too fair to be believed," he proclaimed, "If such a phenomenon occurred but once, it would be handed down by tradition to posterity, and get into the mythology at last.”

Mille Lacs Kathio State Park

The appearance of autumn doesn’t call for the disappearance of kayaks or standup paddleboards. Fall and wintertime waters offer a quieter and solitude experience. Who doesn't appreciate fewer bugs, crowds and empty parking spots at the access? Just remember simple safety factors involving hypothermia. Even water temperatures as high as 75 and 80 degrees F (24 and 27 degrees C) can be dangerous, but generally the colder the water, the faster it happens.

Four simple tips for anyone looking to extend the length of their paddling season into the winter months.

1. Wear your PFD!
2. Layering up against the cold.
3. Familiarize yourself With rescue techniques
4. Be well fed and hydrated when paddling.

"October is the month of painted leaves." wrote Thoreau, "Their rich glow now flashes round the world. As fruits and leaves and the day itself acquire a bright tint just before they fall, so the year near its setting. October is its sunset sky; November the later twilight."

It all proves paddling in the fall might take a little more planning and preparation, but the season's beauty and splendor make it all worth it.

This article was originally published in Outside Adventure to the Max on October 20, 2017. 

 

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KAYAK SUMMER 2019

The music of the far-away summer flutters around the Autumn seeking its former nest. --- Rabindranath Tagore

Please stay a bit longer summer, I don't want to see you go. I want a few more quiet morning floating along in a canoe. A couple additional lazier hot afternoons by the water and several extra-long summer nights sitting around a campfire watching the moon and stars. So sorry Autumn, but I'm just not ready for your cool days, rainy nights and falling leaves.

Canoe morning on Lake Jenkinson

Yes, I'm not ready to it give all up. I've grown accustomed to my shirtless and sandal days at the boathouse, my kayaking evenings at the lake, waiting and watching for the sun to set and the moon to arise. And please, please don't take away my meandering times on the river listening for the rumble of rapids.

Summer 2019, by far exceeded my expectations with a season of fun adventures on or near the water. At Sly Park Recreation Area, I worked the weekend boat rentals for my second straight season sporting large-brimmed straw hat and zebra tanned feet from produced by my Keen sandals. There were some slow easy goings spells, tranquil canoe mornings along with busy and brisk business is good times intermixed throughout my summer. Like a kid at camp, the best part, of course, was being on Lake Jenkinson where canoeing, kayaking, and swimming were all part of my daily grind.

Current Adventures training nights

Last summer, when Eppies called it quits, I thought my training nights and boat prep were over. But, when The Great American Triathlon picked up the baton to continue the great race of running, biking and paddling along The American River Parkway, Dan Crandall and our crew at Current Adventures Kayaking School & Trips geared up for another summer run in training paddlers for the river leg and a way to navigate those pesky San Juan Rapids.

For the new and old faces with Bayside Adventure Sports, a Christian based outreach group, my summer leading them offered several day trips and evening outings to area lakes, an annual run down the Lower American River and no-frills expedition to Loon Lake, where we were treated to some great kayaking camping and amazing sunsets. For years it has been one favorite places to visit, now it's one of theirs.

Bayside Adventure Sports at Loon Lake.

Waterfalls and waterfall trails seemed to be a focal point of my summer. The cascading Sly Park Falls was always a hit for all of those I brought there on kayak outings and after-hours paddles. Who doesn't love a hike to a waterfall? While on a rare trip, where Debbie and I didn't take any boats, we still found our way to the stream when we hiked the waterfall trail at Grover Hot Springs State Park. On a hot summer day after our trek, there was nothing better than kicking off shoes and dipping our toes or better yet getting to stand in the chilly shower.

Lake Jenkinson

"All in all, it was a never to be forgotten summer," wrote Canadian author L.M. Montgomery, "One of those summers which come seldom into any life, but leave a rich heritage of beautiful memories in their going."
Montgomery, best known for a series of novels for chronicling the life of the fictional Anne Shirley set on Prince Edward Island, always painted summers on the island "as near to perfection as anything can come in this world." But she also took delight in Autumn when she wrote, "I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.”

Yes, no matter how I regard it, next Monday marks the first day of fall, which of course subsequently, is the official end of summer. Thanks for the memories. To remind me and you, of the summer not to be forgotten, I picked out some of my favorite images created over the past few months that should keep those memories burning bright.

 

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

 

Bayside Adventure Sports on Lake Natoma

 

Paul at Sly Park

Loon Lake

Lake Jenkinson

The Lower American River

Moonlight paddle on Lake Jenkinson with Current Adventures

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