OVER THE BOW: THE OTTER TAIL RIVER

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

It has been a long time since I've got to paddle the Otter Tail River in Minnesota. I started thinking about that while packing up and getting ready to move. Something about moving makes us feel nostalgic about the place we're leaving behind. We think about the things we'll miss. A neighbor, a restaurant or bar, and if you're like me, a favorite paddling place.

The Otter Tail River was the first river where I got a taste of whitewater. It's Minnesota's eighth-longest river running through the western part of the state before dumping into the Red River. It starts out as a narrow crystal-clear stream as it meanders downhill through the countryside's lakes and marshes. It doesn't move particularly fast but offers canoeists plenty of opportunities for wildlife views along the tranquil river trail. However, east of Fergus Falls, the Otter Tail River picks up speed after making an abrupt turn toward the west, running through a valley filled with Class I and II rapids.
Whitewater is uncommon in western Minnesota. The gradient of the land just doesn't drop that fast. In California, the gradient for popular whitewater sections is measured in feet per mile; but in northwest Minnesota, the gradient is gauged in inches per mile. So don't look for big drops. It has been said that a second-hand pool table has more of a slant to it than a northwestern Minnesota river.

That said, the Broken Down Dam site on the river just east of Fergus Falls has been offering thrills and spills for canoeists and kayakers wanting to take a small bite of whitewater. The crumbling dam has been mostly forgotten since its collapse over a century ago. Busting through its center, the river tumbles, swirls, and drops between two massive concrete walls. During the spring runoff or after a good summer rain, the stream can rage into a fast-moving Class III rapid. Combined with a boulder garden stretch of class II waves before reaching the dam's remnants, it's a perfect place for a whitewater kayak in a place where rapids are hard to find.

About ten years ago, I was just getting into paddling, and of course, just as I do today, I wanted the thrill and challenge of paddling rapids. With Sigurd Olson's words echoing in my head, "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."
My son Cole and I dove in headfirst. We bought two used whitewater boats at a Twin Cities kayak auction. Probably, not the best fit, but it got us on the water. We took turns running that foam-laced section of the river one afternoon, feeling a sense of triumph after bounding through the crashing waves.

This move will be shorter than my move to California from the Midwest and the Otter Tail River. My wife Debbie and I are leaving Fair Oaks and moving up into the foothills of the Sierra Mountains, where we all know the rivers do rush, tumble, and fall. I will miss the closeness of some of my favorite paddling spots in the valley, but, unlike Minnesota rivers, I'll still be able to visit them from time to time.

 

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

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

RETURN TO THE LAKE

I returned to the lake last weekend. Coming back to the quiet waters of Lake Jenkinson and Sly Park Recreation Area that's nestled in the western foothills of the Sierra, near Pollock Pines, California. The past several summers, I have spent almost every weekend working the Sly Park Paddle Rentals boathouse, renting out kayaks, canoes, and paddleboards to anyone wanting to paddle the lake. Driving down the park road and seeing the water shimmering through the trees, I felt like I had arrived back home. It had been a long time coming. My season was abruptly cut short last summer after I was unceremoniously tossed off the lake as the Calder fire raged nearby. 

I had come back a couple times. Late in the fall, I came to gather up all the gear I had left behind. Even then, the walk down to the lake to sweep away the ash from inside the boathouse was a long one. It had been a dry year from the beginning. All season, I watched the lake levels drop, exposing the lakebed and tree stumps. The wildfire only exacerbated the already parched season. The Calder Fire reported on August 14th went scorched some 221,835 acres, but luckily only singed Sly Park borders. 

When my wife Debbie and I visited the lake for a mid-winter hike along the snow-covered lakeshore, we were happy to see the lake was still low. But on the rise. We were optimistic that winter storms would yield much-needed moisture into the lake. 

This past weekend, the lake was up. According to the sign at the front gate was up to 81%. Not quite full, but a far cry better than the last time I visited. Now the lake glistened an emerald green. The boathouse had been lifted from the depths of the lake. The long pathway down to its gangplank was only a memory. Looking into the clear water below it, I could make out a few of the rocks I had placed to mark the trail where the sidewalk had ended. 

The canoes that Current Adventures Dan Crandall had brought up lay half-sunken under the boathouse dock. A heavy rain a few weeks ago indicated how much rain had fallen. The four canoes served as large rain gauges. They would require a bit of bailing if my group from Bayside Adventure Sports were to be using them that evening for a sunset paddle. 

Paddlers often debate the perfect time of the day to paddle. Some say it's best in the morning mist. When the lake is still quiet. And the fishing boats have yet to arrive. On Lake Jenkinson there is a 90-minute window in the early morning when the lake is calm and before the winds start to blow through the narrows. The afternoon fetch is always troublesome to paddlers when paddling against it. Others might prefer to sleep in and wait for sunset when the pines cast shadows across the lake and the western sky is ablaze. There may be a sunset every day but being on Lake Jenkinson in a canoe at twilight while watching the sun slowly sink down into the pines is a special experience no matter how many times, I've taken it in.  

"I was entranced by the loveliness of the sight," Egerton Ryerson Young, a Canadian missionary and author wrote in his biographical tale, By Canoe and Dog Train Among the Cree Ad Salteaux, "The reflections of the canoe and men and of the islands and rocks were as vivid as the actual realities. So clear and transparent was the water that where it met the air, there seemed to be only a narrow thread between the two elements. Not a breath of air stirred, not a ripple moved. It was one of those sights, which seldom comes to us in a lifetime, where everything is in perfect unison."

After spending two days camping with my group, I can truly, say I can't wait for more. I look forward to opening up the boathouse for the season and all the summer days at home on the lake.

If you want to go on a canoe or kayak trip at Sly Park contact:
Current Adventures Kayak School and Trips
PHONE: 530-333-9115 or Toll-Free: 888-452-9254
FAX: 530-333-1291
USPS: Current Adventures, P.O. Box 828, Lotus, CA 95651
info@currentadventures.com
owner Dan Crandall dan@kayaking.com

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

EARTH DAY 2022

Last week, all the three monotheistic faiths celebrated overlapping holy days and religious festivals of Judaism’s Passover, Christianity’s Easter, and Islam’s holy month of Ramadan. It happens every 30 years because the three observances are based on different calendars and factors that determine when the holidays will occur. It was a time for family gatherings, reflection, and prayers as all three faiths reminded us of our responsibility for each other and the world.

The world will celebrate this week with Earth Day on April 22. Since its inception in 1970, it has evolved into an international movement to people together in the cause of preserving our planet for all. Since its beginning over 50 years ago, billions of people in more than 200 countries have taken part in educational and service activities such as tree plantings and river cleanups, along with demonstrations, marches, and protests, centered around the crucial goal of nurturing and protecting our environment.

Each year the celebration of Earth Day serves as a reminder to us all of the importance of taking care of our planet earth. However, the mandate for taking care of the environment is far older than this annual event. From Buddhism to Christianity to Hinduism to Islam, various faiths acknowledge the need for environmental stewardship in their holy texts urge adherents to be caretakers of the Earth.

In the Bible's Genesis, we are told that God created the entire universe and formed the earth for all living things.
A river flowed from the land of Eden, watering the garden and then dividing into four branches. The first branch, called the Pishon, flowed around the entire land of Havilah, where gold is found. The gold of that land is exceptionally pure; aromatic resin and onyx stone are also found there. The second branch, called the Gihon, flowed around the entire land of Cush. The third branch, called the Tigris, flowed east of the land of Asshur. The fourth branch is called the Euphrates. The LORD God placed the man in the Garden of Eden to tend to and watch over it.

For Muslims, being guardians of the Earth is the responsibility of all. The Quran says there is a definite purpose in the creation of different species, be it plants or animals.
And it is He who sends down rain from the sky, and We produce thereby the growth of all things. We produce from it greenery from which We produce grains arranged in layers. And from the palm trees – of its emerging fruit are clusters hanging low. And [We produce] gardens of grapevines and olives and pomegranates, similar yet varied. Look at [each of] its fruit when it yields and [at] it’s ripening. Indeed in that are signs for a people who believe.

Hindus understand the environment to mean the natural world, and everything around us is part of the earth and nature. Ancient Hindu teaching says, The Earth is our mother and we are all her children.

Buddhists believe that man and nature need to coexist, and that nature is neither good nor evil.
The Dalai Lama said in 1990, “Our ancestors viewed the earth as rich and bountiful, which it is. Many people in the past also saw nature as inexhaustibly sustainable, which we now know is the case only if we care for it.”

So while science and religion are often thought to be at odds on many issues. On the caring of the planet, all the faiths are in global solidarity.

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

RATTLESNAKE BAR & VIDEO

I have never seen a river that I could not love," wrote Canadian writer and conservationist Roderick Haig-Brown, "Moving water...has a fascinating vitality. It has power and grace and associations. It has a thousand colors and a thousand shapes, yet it follows laws so definite that the tiniest streamlet is an exact replica of a great river."

When I started kayaking, I dreamed of these river places Haig-Brown called "Water in its loveliest form." 

I always wanted to paddle that clear water passageway between massive ramparts of broken disheveled of once molten rock, now crystallized over millions of years. Where the rock is exposed, lifted, and shattered along the fault lines and large boulders have become their own islands as they raise from the depths of the river. It's rough, It's rugged. It's Rattlesnake Bar.

Rattlesnake Bar is part of the California State Parks Folsom Lake Recreation Area. Located on the north arm of the reservoir, down a long dead-end road after the fork winding past white fences and horse barns towards the entrance of the park.

The lake glistens, flashing through the oaks and willows while driving down the narrow road after entering the park. Suffering another year of drought, it sometimes looked more like Mars's dusty remnants. But it is springtime, and the lake is just over 50% of its total capacity which is just slightly below average for this time of year.

But even at half-full, the water comes nowhere near the end of the ramp. Bring a cart, or plan on a lengthy trek shouldering your kayak down the ramp or along an arduous trail down a steep bank to the lake. The guidebooks said to watch for rattlesnakes, hence the name, but it should have warned you about that thick layer of muck and slimy goo in front of the lake.

The water was a silty brown turned up by waves of speed boats. It resembles a choppy coffee and cream color even past the 5-mph buoy about a mile north of the access. Those, with a need for speed, turn around and head back to the main part of the lake. Those in search of the quiet of the lake, canyon, and river proceed on.

Past Mormon Ravine, the lake widens and turns to the northeast. On the north side, the old Pony Express Trail is now a hiking path along the lake. Further up lake narrows with rugged rocky ledges on both sides. We don't feel the tug of current tell further up the canyon. But it's common through here. The lake behaves more like a river as the water level dictates where the river ends, and the lake begins. There is a sudden change in water temperature and clarity as the cool mountain North Fork of the American River pours into the lake. It was now a refreshing cold and running transparently clear.

I have paddled upstream here before and even portaged through shallow rapids to the river's slow-moving pools.  On this trip, however, the lake covers up those rapids.  At Oregon Bar Rapids, there is no need to go any further on this trip. The rushing water turns us back downstream.

Above Pilot Creek, we found a nice flat rock and water warmed by the sun. We beached our boats and surveyed our river surroundings. Upriver, we could see the foam of whitewater. Downstream, the rugged curve of the canyon suffused the amber light of the late afternoon sun. On warmer days, I've spent a good chunk of time there becoming a kid again by diving off rocks, swimming between dives, and exploring the view of the canyon.

Light and shadows dance across the water as the sun slips behind the horizon on our paddle back to Rattlesnake Bar access. The hills and trees' obscurity are offset by the warm glow of the water. My senses were awakened by the stillness and coolness of the air as we glided silently and almost effortlessly across the placid lake of golden glass.

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

EXTREME PADDLER PLANS TO PADDLE EVERY RIVER ON THE PLANET

As springtime comes, many paddlers are contemplating their plans for summer adventures. Extreme adventure kayaker Rick "Rhino" Ryan is gearing up for a never been done before odyssey paddling every river on earth. It will be a 50-million-mile journey that will take him to unexplored wildernesses in the far reaches of the world.

"I'm always looking for new epic challenges," said Rhino, "I thought I'd start with all the rivers of America. But then I thought maybe not big enough, maybe North America, and from there it just cascaded into all the rivers of the world. So, I'm going colossal!"

According to Alexa, there are about 165 major rivers in the world. Rivers vary in size and distance. There are 76 rivers in the world over 1000 miles long. Located in the continent of Africa, the Nile River is the longest at 4,135 miles. The Amazon River in South America is 3,980 miles long, while the Mississippi River and the Missouri Rivers is the longest river system in North America at 3,902 miles, just to name a few. There are thousands of smaller rivers, but the exact number is difficult to determine. Hydrologists studying images from a NASA Landsat satellite estimate the United States alone has around 3.5 million miles of river miles. While the earth calculates some 58 million river miles on the planet.
"It's definingly going to be a lot of paddle strokes, "said Rhino.

Rhino is a world-class paddler who's always looking for his next challenge. He's tackled some of the planet's most dangerous waterways for nearly a decade, always looking for that next thrill that most would consider a death wish. He has traveled all the big rivers of the world like the Colorado, Amazon, the rivers of Nepal. But it was down a jungle river in California that made him a legend in the paddling world.
In 2021, brought on during the Covid-19 shutdown, he jumped the fence at Disneyland to paddle Adventureland's Jungle Cruise Waterway, what some called the globe’s most treacherous river.
"I remembered the river ride as a kid," said Rhino, "That was the first trip river trip that got me hooked on paddling. It was crazy! Lions, hippos, tigers, and danger everywhere! I was lucky to survive."
Officials weren't too happy, however. That voyage trip did get him arrested, and he now has a lifetime ban in the park.

"He been thinking of doing this for quite a while," said Dan Masters of Master of Disasters Kayaking & Trips, "A lot of paddling expeditions compare their trip to that of like that of going to the moon. This one is like going to every star in the heavens. But he'll do it. I'm sure he will get it done in half the time most people would think. It would take two or three lifetimes for a lot of paddlers."

While the big-name rivers like the Colorado, Nile, Amazon, and Indus River are all well known. It's the not-so-famous ones that Rhino is looking forward to running the most.
"I plan to be shooting the big whitewater waves, the easy flat water, and every in-between. There will be a lot of first descents down forgotten rivers. There will be some spectacular drops and challenging water along with some incredible views of both remote as well as urban landscapes."

And you will be able to come along. Rhino's odyssey will be shown on Extreme Sports Adventure productions. ESA is the company that produces, The Real Wives of Kayakers. It's a highly rated TV show featuring women partnered with paddlers living the life, that believe it or not, does not always go steady with the flow. That show focuses on women living their dream of setting camera shots, making room for another boat in the garage, lonely shuttle drives, and dealing with smelly wet neoprene.

"I'm excited about having them along." said Rhino, "It will be part travel show, part food, and a lot of action. It will be a really great show or at least a swell beer commercial."

Rhino, who seems to have been prepping for this voyage for years, says he will use 57 different types of boats for his epic expedition.
"I got them all stashed in the garage," said Rhino, "I'll use pack rafts for those small hard-to-navigate rivers. My creek boats for the wild rivers. My sea-going kayaks for long stretches of water. And my canoe for places like the Mississippi. I'll even have a horse tank in Nebraska and a bathtub for Florida."

Rhino's wife Debbie, who will be along for a good part of the trip, said, "I'll miss him when I can't be with him, but it will be great to finally park the car in the garage."

Rhino expects the epic expedition to begin on April 1st.

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

OVER THE BOW: THE CONFLUENCE OF THE AMERICAN AND SACRAMENTO RIVERS

  


Looking downstream on the Sacramento River, we can see the Sacramento city skyline about a mile. It gave me a slight chuckle as I said to my paddling partner John Taylor, "Those are some strange-looking mountains downriver."
John retorted back, "Your right. And there is not any snow on top of them either."

When most people in vison kayaking or canoeing, they will think of places far away with scenic mountain views and tranquil pine-lined lakes away from the hustle and bustle of downtown. But remember you don’t have to leave the city to enjoy a day out on the water. Urban paddling is something you can do in many cities. In Sacramento, California, paddling the Lower American River offers an unexpected way to get active in the outdoors while seeing the waterway destination from a new perspective.

“We are so fortunate to have this 4,800-acre, 23-mile waterway in the middle of our urban core that we can ride bikes on, we can kayak, we can horseback ride, all of these things as well as have family picnics, that we don’t want to see that go away,” Dianna Poggetto the executive director of American River Parkway Foundation, told Fox 40 during a recent a volunteer cleanup effort of the riverway.
Multiple homeless encampments along the parkway have caused a myriad of issues for civic leaders and nearby residents. Their biggest complaint is the trash and debris that's left along the banks of the river. Throughout the year, volunteers participate in the effort to accumulate the trash left behind.

It was a left turn around the high bank of Discovery Park to the Lower American River from the Sacramento River. And it was easy to tell where one ends and the other begins. The Sacramento was colored darker with suspended soil, minerals, or other deposits, making it quite murky compared to clear running American. Paddling into the river's current, the change was instantaneous.

The lower American River was designated as a "Recreational River" under both the California Wild and Scenic Rivers Act and the National Wild and Scenic Rivers Act. One of only seven rivers in California to receive this protective status, the American River offers a rich array of recreational activities, wildlife viewing, along with its colorful history.
The Nisenan Native Americans were the first people to live here along the banks for hundreds of years. They called the river Kum Sayo, which translated means "roundhouse river." Naming it after their dwelling along banks.
Explorer and trapper Jedediah Smith showed in here in 1828, upsetting the Mexican authorities and freaking the Nisenan people along the river. He dubbed it the Wild River, but the name did not last. By the time, John Sutter built his fort further upstream, the area settlers and Native Americans named the river Rio de Los Americanos or American River.

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

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

WIND & WAVES

When the winds from the North don't venture forth.

Back in the Midwest, I never really got used to the wind. It was somewhere between an icy blast from the North. It's a tornadic rage from the west or a fiery blow torch from the South. Cool breezes were rare, calm days even more. The wind always seemed to be blowing. I can still remember those white-capped Minnesota lakes pushing the boats around.
As a kayaker, the wind is always advantageous. I can tolerate snow. Paddle through the rain on any day.
But it's always those stiff gusty winds that will prove to be the most troublesome. The wind is arguably the biggest environmental factor that can turn my otherwise beautiful kayaking day into a major struggle.

The America Canoe Association, Outdoor Adventures Kayaking book, published in 2009, says that the wind, particularly in touring and sea kayaking, where the paddler is exposed to large expanses of open water is usually the biggest factor to be concerned with. The instructional resource book says, "Wind causes two problems for the kayaker. First, a wind coming from any direction, except head-on, tends to weathervane the boat, sweeping it sideways toward the destination. This not only throws the boater off course but also makes the kayak feel less stable since it is being pushed sideways across the water."
The book went on to say what every experienced paddler already knows. Headwinds can quickly tire you out and make that destination you are heading for seem to take forever to get to. While a good tailwind can be a paddler's friend as long as the winds continue to blow in the direction you are traveling.
The wind is what makes waves. The unobstructed length of water over which wind can blow is called "Wind Fetch." The strength of the wind and the time it blows over the open water will determine the height of waves. The highest energy waves will form where there is a long expanse of unblocked water and sustaining high winds. So yes, kayaking can certainly be a wonderful experience on a lake like Lake Tahoe, but with some 22 miles of "Fetch" it can also be a tiger when the afternoon winds come up pushing large waves.
So, while the not the ocean, big lakes can have winds over 10-mph be dramatically change paddling conditions and change your relaxing experience into a Peloton workout in no time. Our Sierra foothills lakes can often be accompanied by a stiff westerly afternoon wind requiring some intermediate boating skills to take on the rough and choppy lake swells. Over the years, I've learned many of my favorite paddling lakes consistence bad habits of strong gust beginning in the late morning and continuing throughout the day but eventually dying down towards evening.

Plan your kayak routes and canoes around the expected wind patterns in your area. Mornings and evenings are best for excursions to avoid those breezy gusts of the afternoon that will make your paddling day and anyone you like to paddle with much easier.
But while nobody wants to paddle into a headwind, it can be an exhilarating exercise.

"If the waves are rolling and you are forced to make your way against them, there is the joy of battle," writes canoe guru Sigurd Olson, "Each comber an enemy to be thwarted, a problem in approach and defense."
I can share a bit of Olson's glee. But only for a little while. I prefer dodging the gust and waves and seeking protection along the calmer shore and around islands blocking the strong gusts and fighting the wind for shorter periods of short distances. At least, that is always my plan when the wind comes up.

 
 

Lake Comanche 

California's Camanche Reservoir, located east of Lodi, was named after the gold-mining town of Camanche built-in 1849, referring to the fierce southern plains' native American tribe by the same name. The town, now long gone at the bottom of the lake, is only a memory. But on breezy days, the waterway can live up to its fierce namesake when the northern winds toss whitecaps over the lake.
John Taylor and I have battled strong winds before. Both on the Sierra high Loon Lake and even on those blustery days on Lake Natoma. We've struggled to keep our group together on foothills finger Lake Clementine when the afternoon wind picked up. I have had to help a couple of tired paddlers back to the access by towing them along.
It was choppy when we started out on Lake Comanche. We headed out across the broad expanse of the lake from one of the many accesses of the Camanche Recreation Company campground and day-use area. We paddled to the east and found protection in the narrows of the lake. The high cliffs along the lake's east shores resemble a mini–Grand Canyon experience with tall multicolored rock formations on each side of us. After the narrows, we paddled into an area of grassy beaches called China Gulch, where we enjoyed wildlife views of eagles and otters.

Knowing the winds were picking up, we did not dare go further. Turning back into the wind, we knew it would be a battle to return to an even further access point where our truck was parked. When average wind speeds begin to climb into the 15 to 20 mile per hour range, that is when it’s time to get off the water. Anything above 20 miles per hour starts to become downright dangerous. We didn't know if it was blowing 10, 15, or even, 20 mph. All we knew was it was time for plan B. We needed to get off the lake as soon as possible.

Most lake paddlers start and finish at the same location. But wind can derail that plan. So, if you even have the slightest inkling that heavy winds could hamper your return, make sure you identify one or two other shoreline locations where you can land your craft if you can’t make it back to your starting location. There is no reason to tough it out, out there. Always think safety first.

I set my sights on a point on the other side of the lake. It was an island in high water, A peninsula when the lake is low. Either way, it would be our alternate landing.
The wind and waves seemed to push us backward as we slowly paddled toward the peninsula. John in canoe trailed behind became a tiny yellow speck slipping over the tops of the whitecaps. As we all know, canoes sit a bit higher in the water and are a little more wind prone than kayaks. John was in a real battle against nature.

"The beast's claws scraped at the sky from the water below," wrote Natalie Warren in her book Hudson Bay Bound about the lashing waves of Lake Winnipeg," The large swells grew taller and sharper, threatening to crest and crash with each peak. If we swamped here, we would be trouble."

I felt the same as bounded over the waves. Using shorter and more frequent strokes into the headwind, was considerably more tiring. Paddle, paddle. Maneuvered some more big waves, and I tried to look behind me to check on John's process.
It was to my relief that I finally made it across the lake to a safely protected cove. First, I could rest. And second, I could check on John. He and his canoe had been pushed off track, but he was making steady progress across the lake. But we were not done yet.
The peninsula is connected to the mainland by a strand of hardpack mud covered with an overgrowth of weeds. My paddling guidebook said it was about 80 feet portage. It proved to be much further.

Still, it was much faster and less exhausting than paddling all the way around against the wind. After our portage, we had to paddle another short distance in the wind, before coming to our alternate landing. And it was just our luck that a friendly camping couple was there and offered us a ride to our truck.
Nobody likes to paddle into a headwind. It’s always best to have that wind to your advantage as you paddle back toward your starting location. There is satisfaction in reaching any point on the lake map despite the wind and waves. Because, at the end of the day, when the wind finally dies. Though my muscles were sore, I still reveled in my day on the water.

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