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.

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CANOECOPIA! GOES VIRTUAL

Canoecopia will be paddling on the virtual waves of the internet this year. Organizers in the wake of the ongoing pandemic will be hosting the annual what some call the largest paddlesports consumer event in the world online.  
"We're so pleased to be able to present to you a virtual Canoecopia this year!" wrote the owner of Rutabaga Paddlesports, Darren Bush, on the Canoecopia web page, "We hope this helps to start the 2021 season with optimism and hope. It'll be different, but we're confident you'll love what we've done, along with our amazing exhibitors and presenters."

Covid-19 capsized last year's event held annually in Madison, WI, due to safety concerns about the spreading of the virus. Canoecopia is normally, wall to wall with kayaks, canoes, stand-up paddleboards, outdoor equipment, and paddling gear. With over 180 seminars and clinics, the annual was a great place to learn how to up paddling techniques, develop skills to get you where you want to go, and discover some of the many places to paddle. Over the years, topics have included paddling on multi-day trips into Canada, selecting the right gear, using a GPS and map, food choices, and how to determine the right canoe for a family camping trip. Kayak and canoe companies have also used the event to debut new products
“Cancelling Canoecopia last year was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, but it was clearly the right thing to do,” said Bush in a video released to attendees. “As we approached the fall, we realized Canoecopia 2021 wasn’t going to happen in real life again because, obviously, of the pandemic. So, we decided to try something different.”

While Bush says it won’t replace the in-person event, it should come close to second. Registrants will be able to visit virtual exhibitor booths and showrooms, watch demos (more than 80 presentations and seminars), connect with exhibitors, and more. Paddling enthusiasts will be able to live text chat, direct message, and in some cases, participate in live Q&As with speakers during and after their presentation on topics including destinations, skills, history, conservation efforts, fishing tips, and fitness. Room sizes for presentations will be unlimited and most presentations will be available for viewing up to 60 days after the event.

“While there is no good thing about COVID-19, the pandemic has made us all adapt and learn, try new things, envision a way to work around this, and try to make the best of a bad situation,” Bush told Paddling Life, “Adopting a virtual platform has its challenges and drawbacks, as nothing replaces face to face, but at the same time, a lot of Canoecopia attendees had to choose between speakers and sometimes not getting in due to room capacity. Now, with virtual speakers, the size of the room is unlimited and no one has to choose.” 

Canoecopia is March 12-14, 2021.  Buy your tickets now!

Virtual Tickets
3-Day: $15.00

Virtual Show Hours (CST)
Fri 3/12: 12 - 8 PM
Sat 3/13: 10 - 6 PM
Sun 3/14: 10 - 6 PM

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ON A MID WINTER PADDLE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

WASHINGTON BILL THAT WOULD IMPOSE NEW SAFETY RULES FOR KAYAKS

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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SOUTH SILVER THE FIRST DESCENT

Elements of chance and danger are wonderful and frightening to experience and, though I bemoan the recklessness of youth, I wonder what the world would be like without it. I know this 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

When Northern California extreme kayakers talk about the South Silver there eyes light up. It's a classic 2-mile run over smooth granite with steep drops, teacup pools, and a water slide like ride down a giant flume that boaters like to sprint it over and over again. Technically challenging at Class V, this remote creek section went unnoticed until the late 1990s. Back then, as whitewater kayaking was on the rise, paddling river cowboys roamed the California rivers and creeks with only one desire: to paddle their plastic kayaks down their torrents and rapids and grab the mythical glory of being the first one to do it. For a group of paddling pioneers, the South Fork of Silver Creek would be that prize. 

Photos courtesy of Duncan Mine

 "You know doing a first descent is basically the crème de la crème for a kayaker," Mikey Juarez, says in South Silver the First Descent, the new film from Duncan Mine, a Northern California Production Company, "To do something of the stature that, that we look back now and look at this creek, South Silver, it being one the most popular rivers in the state of California and bringing people from all over the world to run, you know we're very for fortunate."

The film was inspired after Duncan Mine's Scott Blankenfeld heard about the creek's first descent from local paddler Andrew Boucher. For the past couple of years, Duncan Mine has been showcasing athletes doing their thing on their home turf. 

Scott Blankenfeld

"This now-classic whitewater run was one of the last to be pioneered in California, and it signifies an end to an era of exploration of California whitewater," said Blankenfeld, "I instantly thought it would make a great short documentary film."

All the paddlers featured in the film were thrilled to recall their shared unique story in California whitewater history and the tale of their first descent down the South Silver.
"They opened their doors," said Blankenfeld, "Gave us their time, shared footage, and trusted us to do a good job telling their story." 

Produced on a limited budget, the film interweaves old footage of the then younger kayakers and their old-school boats with contemporary shots with today's newer creek boats and helmet camera video of kayaking. 

"We acquired two sets of archival footage for this project," said Blankenfeld, "Jared Noceti lent us his Hi-8 camera and tapes for us to digitize, log, and use. This footage was used for the "kayaking in the 90's" opening montage, and more importantly, for the first running of the teacups segments."
With the original Hi-8 footage from the first full descent was lost over time, the production crew had to rely on an edited VHS video from 2001.
"Initially, we thought the tape was unusable as the play-heads on the VCR were dirty," said Blankenfeld, "Months later in the editing process, My co-director, Robby Hogg convinced me to take a second look on a different player and viola, the static was almost gone. This footage was then digitized and added really at the last minute. I'm so happy we did this because the film would not be the same without it."

Shot beautifully against the gorgeous backdrop of the high Sierra Nevada Mountains and edited with outstanding fluid pacing by Nick Warren, the film is more than just a kayaking highlight reel. But, rather an adventure story that captures the spirit of California's not-so-old whitewater history when as Jared Noceti tells us in the opening scenes, there was no internet or social media and paddlers could only rely on each other to tell their story.
"You got your input from not off Y-tube," said Noceti, "You input from your buddy. From his story. What he told about his experiences. And if you could figure it out on your own, you'll probably have that same experience."

An accomplished paddler himself, Blankenfeld hopes this film is only the beginning of sharing similar boaters narratives and will lead the video company to even larger projects in telling even more stories about California whitewater history.
"We want this film to be seen by as many people as possible," said Blankenfeld, "This was an opportunity to spend time with old friends and share a unique story of California whitewater."

 

You can learn about Ducan Mine at www.duncanmine.com.  To follow Blankenfled and to check out more of his images go to www.scottblankenfeld.com. 

 

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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. 

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