Originally published on May 6 2014. This post has been an Outside Adventure to the Max fan favorite.
The city of Fargo has been all the news this past year. It has a new hit TV series that shares its name. ESPN College GameDay came to town for a visit last fall, and it received rave reviews from the national media about its urban trendy downtown nightclubs, restaurants, and bars. It seems Fargo is cool. After living and raising a family there for quite a while it nice to see it get some positive attention. But, for me, the best part is its river.
Slicing through the communities of Fargo and it's next door neighbor, Moorhead, Minn, is the Red River of the North. This slow-motion friend doesn't seem to be in a hurry at all. It meanders 550 miles from its source in Breckenridge, Minn all the way to Lake Winnipeg in Canada. In one of the world's flattest places, the river can pick and chose its own way. There are not many straight lines in this waterway. In some places along the river, Minnesota is on the west bank, while North Dakota is to the east. Moving very slowly and sloping at just a half-foot per mile, any beginner can navigate this river easily.
Urban paddle through downtown Fargo and Moorhead
Sunset on the Red River.
Kayaking or canoeing has never been so easy. Along with the cities' parks departments, the Riverkeepers, a nonprofit organization established to protect and preserve the integrity and natural environment of the river in the Fargo-Moorhead area, have developed several access points along the river. Two favorites are located above and below the Midtown Dam in Dike East Park. The dam has been retrofitted with a rocky slope. Fishermen hang out here daily during the summer months.
From here one can paddle either north through the center of the cites to get views of the skylines and bridges, or go south towards Lindenwood park to escape the bustle.
It is hard to believe this is an urban paddle as one winds and weaves around with the stream. Willow, cottonwood and box elder trees cradle the river at each bend. In either direction don't be surprised to see beaver, river otters and white-tailed deer. It feels like a trip into the wilderness.
Of course in other places, one can tell they are in a city. The sounds of traffic and train horn echo off the water. The music of a jazz guitar floats down from a riverside venue or the Oak Grove High School Band plays its fight song at its football field near to the river. It is always good to remember pizza or a glass of wine are minutes away after the kayaks are loaded up.
Kayaking only stops when the Red River is frozen.
One of the more popular events on the river is the annual Race the Red kayak and canoe race sponsored by the Riverkeepers. Each year area paddlers come to challenge skills, raise money for Riverkeepers and have fun. The race features a 10-mile competitive race and a 2-mile fun paddle. The race begins at the Lindenwood Park bike bridge and ends downstream at the floating bridge above the Midtown Dam. For more information log on to Riverkeepers.org
Lining up for the race.
Debbie and Nick after placing in last year's race.
I'm now part of the Red River's history. I'm sure no one in recent times had paddled up and down it so much. It's muddy looking waters, ever-changing direction and rumble of its dams still call and always will. I have seen picturesque sunrises and sunsets, cool morning mists and tranquil snow falls at each bend. I have enjoyed time with family and friends floating on the river as well as solo trips of solitude. The river was a wonderful friend in my journey of life.
“Going up that river was like traveling back to the beginning of the world, when the plants ran wild and the trees were kings. We sailed up an empty river into a great and silent forest" --Joesph Conrad, Heart of Darkness...
In the past couple of weeks, I have been taking trips up the river and then back down. It is challenging in a way for me. All explorers went up the river from Lewis & Clark to Teddy Roosevelt. It's the drive to see what is around the next bend and the anticipation of not knowing what will be seen.
My kayak partner Erik Allen and I were for that challenge last month when we paddled up the North Fork of the American River from Upper Lake Clementine. We had traveled up another section of the river before at a place called Rattlesnake Bar and above Folsom Lake. There is a mixture of lake and river. Above Lake Clementine, it would be all river. Going up the North Fork follows an ever-rising gradient. The water comes in swift fashion. We would paddle pool to pool portaging through the rapids. Erik's longer sea kayak would help him muscle through the fast current a few times by vigorously paddling as hard as he could to pass over the ledge where the water was in a boil. Its nature's rowing machine.
"This is a marathon, not a sprint," Luke Kimmes told the Des Moines Register "Physically, it's very demanding to paddle nine to 12 hours a day, but a lot of it is up here (he points to his head). It's that mind over matter idea."
Kimmes and five others are on different odyssey this year. They are on the Adventure to Rediscover North America Expedition, canoeing from the Gulf of Mexico to the Arctic Ocean. The journey will take them through ten states, and five Canadian provinces traveling the most way the upstream on the Mississippi and Minnesota Rivers. It's well past 2,000 miles upstream before they are finally going downstream in the Red River Valley of the North and into Canada.
"This is the type of trip I dreamt about when I was a kid," said Kimmes, "It's a passion of mine to show others that getting outside and enjoying the environment is good for the soul. It's a lot better than sitting at a desk."
I compare it to climbing steps. On some rivers, you will feel a gentle tug or push. When a river turns, it forms a bend. The strongest and deepest current will usually be found on the outside of that curve. So while Erik tries to power paddle through, I take the easy way, finding where the rapids are the narrowest to the pools. Locking my boat against the eddies, a relative calm where the main current flows reverse, I climb out of my kayak and push it through the fast water. Leaning into the streaming and bracing against the boat.
I have waded before. In the Midwest, we could never really wade in many rivers. Their bottoms were made of mud and silt. You would quickly sink up to your ankles or knees in muck. Don't even think of wearing a pair of shoes. You would either leave them stuck in the mud or spend the next hours trying to scrape the sludge off them. There it's better to go barefoot with the mud oozing between your toes.
Water shoes are a must today. A couple of weeks ago this water was snow. It is still cold against my legs and feet. This water has enough power to knock me down and the rocks underneath are slippery and jagged. My neoprene boots hold in my warmth and also protect my feet in the rocky river bottom. In my mind, I think about to the explorers and gold miners who stood ankle deep in this cold stream searching for new lands and new treasure. Before long we are back flat water with a roar of the rapids behind us.
"Really, it speaks to what this trip means to me, which is if you have a passion, part of passion is struggling and sacrificing for what you want." said the mastermind Adventure to Rediscover North America Expedition, Winchell Delano in the same interview with Des Moines Register, "The feeling when you cross that divide and you're going downstream again, it's like delayed gratification through cathartic pain."
In the Midwest the slope is measured in inches. It's like pouring water on a pool table and watching it meander to the table's lean. In the foothills of California, if there is water, it comes cascading down the canyons offering scenic beauty and solitude. At one spot we are treated with the sight of a bald eagle. It pays us no mind as we paddle on in a quiet pool. When soaring, it could be on to the next canyon in the time it takes us to paddle around one bend. It's all new to us, even though it has been mapped, surveyed and Google earthed. When we are out here paddling up stream little matters. It's like we are the first to see it, hear it and touch it.
"Just one more bend," we say to each other. Or maybe even one further up. Lets see how far we can go, powered by trail mix and granola bar before turning back. Then we can turn around and ride the bouncy gentle rapids back to still waters.
My talented wife Debbie Klenzman Carlson owner of Progressive Portraits made some impressive images me kayaking Lake Natoma under the Rainbow Bridge in Folsom.
Share your travel stories and images with us at Outside Adventure to the Max. We are always looking for guest bloggers and their pictures. Check us out on Facebook.
Rivers are the primal highways of life. From the crack of time, they had borne men's dreams, and in their lovely rush to elsewhere, fed our wanderlust, mimicked our arteries, and charmed our imaginations in a way the static pond or vast and savage ocean never could. ---Tom Robbins
Sometimes I'm just at a loss for words to describe the joy I have for kayaking along on a lake, a river and now the ocean. I got into boating roughly five years ago this month and haven't looked back. Each day on the water fades into a dream only a picture can tell. Bright days, cloudy days and moonlit nights have been chronicled in my photographs of my paddling adventures. Here are a few of my favorite images from this year so far.
Lake Natoma
Paddle Pushers on Lake Natoma
Moonlight Paddle on Lake Natoma
Lower American River
Rollins Lake
Folsom Lake
Folsom lake
Folsom Lake
North of the American River
San Francisco Bay
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The strap. It is a simple thing. A strong canvas, leather, or woven fabric nylon webbing that offer strong results. Used in place of a rope, its fasteners or buckles hold things in place. A mere two-inch-wide strip nylon can tow a car or truck. They come in a variety of lengths and colors. And when it comes to boating, its overlooked and often forgotten both in our thoughts and literally at the boat access.
You will never see your favorite boater's magazines with headlines like these... New Straps for 2015... Boater's Guide for Straps 2016.... or What Your Strap Color Say About You. That would just be silly. Canoes and kayaks will always get the glory. Those sleek, majestic and noble crafts that put us on to the lake and stream filling our paddling dreams. But, we ought to realize we would never even get close to the water without our faithful strap.
It was invented before time. Our prehistoric ancestors lashed their supplies together while trekking through the snow across what is now Europe chasing the woolly mammoth.
Needing provisions all tied together all tied together would, of course, help then to inspire travois, dogsleds and then the wheel. If man would travel he would need a strap.
The buckle came later. The Romans would develop it for their soldier's helmets and body armor. Made out of bronze, these buckles were functional for their strength and durability for the centurion. The concept is still used today in our plastic helmets and buoyant PFDs. But it was the strap that helped conquer the world. To carry a sword, the soldier wore a belt and buckle diagonally over his right shoulder down to his waist at the left holding a scabbard. Therefore, the strap and its buckle became important an element to the campaigning Roman army.
Throughout the ages, the strap and the faster became tools of war, peace and taming the wilderness. When the voyagers were portaging from stream to stream carrying packs laden with pelts while pulling their canoes along through the shallow water, the strap was there of course. Rough work and back-breaking work to say the least. Furs were in 90-pound bundles. If they couldn't be transported by canoe they were carried the men through the shallow waters. The standard load for a voyageur on a portage was two strapped bundles or about 180 pounds. There are reports of some voyagers carrying more five or more bundles and legends of them carrying up to eight. A physically grueling lifestyle not nearly as glorious as folk tales make it out to be and there helping shoulder the load was the fearless the strap.
Sometime in the age of automobiles, someone thought instead of carrying our canoes over our heads lets carry them over the tops of our Ford. It was revolutionary! No need to rent a boat at the lake when we could take our own trip down river. Tie the canoe down in the truck bed and drop it off at the access. Boundary Waters, Grand Canyon, or the Allagash River. No trip was too big or small for our friend the strap. Since we began carrying our boats with our vehicles, much the gear has had some wholesale changes. Roof racks now come with saddles, rollers and load assist. Trailers equip outfitters to haul numerous stacked boats everywhere. However new technology of boat transport, the strap has stayed the same. You can't change perfection. Its job has been, what it has always been. Hold it and secure it tightly.
We will either carefully tie down our kayaks or yank down on the strap, binding them with all our might. We all do this while taking the strap for granted. We lend them, we toss them and never seem to have enough of them. At the access, we will gently lay our canoes into the water while wadding up our straps into balls spaghetti throwing them into the back of the truck. We pay little concern as they become faded and frayed under the strain of our use. When loading up, one is always invariable left behind to another boater who doesn't have enough of them. Saying to us, "Use me till you lose me. I'll make the sacrifices to get you near the water. I know my time is short."
As you can see the strap is an ageless wonder, however its only a matter of time before your helpful strap is either lost or worn out and left behind in the access dumpster. So I give this tribute to the strap. The guarding of our paddle sports world, forever embracing our wandering.
This Outside Adventure to the Max comes with an all new video blog. The accompanying story was first published September 19, 2014.
I've lost count on how many times I have passed under Folsom's
prominent Rainbow Bridge. The bridge is a historic landmark of the area.
Built in 1917, the bridge crosses over the upper end of Lake Natoma and
the American River. A 208 foot long concrete arch spans the rocky ledges
of the canyon to help give the bridge it's fabled name. Photographed
and painted time and time again the bridge is truly a magnificent
sight.
I can remember last year when it loomed before
me as I paddled up the lake. Before I had moved to California, I had
only seen it in pictures. As I paddled under it, I felt a thrill in
pushing against the
current and past the silent monument. It was my welcome to Californian
kayaking.
It is routine now. Lake Natoma
is my home lake. I have kayaked it so much and so often that I could
probably name the geese. Like all home lakes, I still find it beautiful
and fun to paddle around. I enjoy the quietness of its sloughs and the
loftiness of its high banks. I love that the water is just
minutes from my home. But that's where I have taken the lake for granted. I'm used to visiting it day after day.
Great days fade in to the next, when I'm out kayaking alone. Sure, I have soloing days that are special. But, the
lasting and great memories come from paddling with my wife. I love to
watch her glide across the water. As an artist, she delights in changing
colors of sky and water while making paintings in her mind. She will
frown and voice disgust when a loud radio vanquishes the peaceful
solitude of the lake. This is her moment to enjoy what God has painted before her eyes.
I paddle behind trying to keep up, while she reveals to me the wonders of the water. This
is the first place we kayaked
together when I came to visit her before we were married. We had rented a
bulky tandem
sit on top and paddled together across the lake through the sloughs. It
was a cool day and we had the lake to ourselves. We toured through the
marsh enjoying the trees, birds and each others company. Now, every time
I pass through those sloughs I remember that
day. Every time. It will always be one of my best memories of lake.
Debbie
and I shared a sunset paddle the other day. Nothing exemplary, we are
heading into fall and the sun is setting faster each night.
We had to race back now, before the sun slammed into the horizon. A
fleeting golden reflection illuminated the water and silhouetted Debbie
and her kayak. The rainbow bridge is close by beaming in the setting sun.
We
will leave no lasting imprint. Water has no memory. However, sharing it
with each other will always make each visit to the lake stand out.
Come along for this Outside Adventure to the Max's special journey for this video blog extra.
This weekend I took part in full moon paddle with the Sacramento Paddle Pushers on Lake Natoma near Folsom, California. The meetup group's posting called for a full "Pink" moon rising. In poetic fashion, it says, "This Full Moon heralded the appearance of the pink moss, or wild ground phlox—one of the first spring flowers."
Calling this full moon "Pink" is a misnomer because this weekend's "Pink" Full Moon isn't really pink. It will still have the yellowish-white complexion that it always does, that is until early Saturday morning's lunar eclipse, but I'll tell you more about that later.
It refers to the herb moss which grows abundantly in early spring. In Native American cultures, this full moon has many names such as Sprouting Grass Moon, Egg Moon, and among coastal tribes, it's the Fish Moon, because this was the time of year that the shad swam upstream to spawn.
Our ancient ancestors have always looked to the sky. They gave names to the Full Moons to keep track of the seasons. January's full moon is called the Wolf Moon. Because of the warming temperatures when earthworms begin to appear March's moon is the Worm Moon. While September's full moon is called the Corn Moon or Harvest Moon because its when corn was supposed to be harvested. These colorful names all in invoke a certain magic. The moon is our the closest heavenly body in our nighttime skies. For thousands of years, we have used its light to guide us in the dark. What better way to sense its lunar allure than to watch the sunset into golden waters in the west and see the moon climb into the evening sky while kayaking.
Oh, I'm bein' followed by a moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow Leapin and hoppin' on a moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow...Cat Stevens
This weekend I'm taking part in full moon paddle with the Sacramento Paddle Pushers. The meetup group's posting calls for a full "Pink" moon rising a little after 7 P.M. Pacific time. In poetic fashion, it says, "This Full Moon heralded the appearance of the pink moss, or wild ground phlox—one of the first spring flowers."
Calling this full moon "Pink" is a misnomer because this weekend's "Pink" Full Moon isn't really pink. It will still have the yellowish-white complexion that it always does, that is until early Saturday morning's lunar eclipse, but I'll tell you more about that later.
It refers to the herb moss which grows abundantly in early spring. In Native American cultures, this full moon has many names such as Sprouting Grass Moon, Egg Moon, and among coastal tribes, it's the Fish Moon, because this was the time of year that the shad swam upstream to spawn.
However this weekend, a lunar eclipse will coincide with this year's Pink Moon turning it actually pink while passing through the shadow of the earth. Plan on staying up very late to catch it. The west coast will have the best opportunity to view the eclipse beginning after 2 AM with the moon entering the umbra. Sky watchers will be treated to a nearly five-minute total lunar eclipse just before sunrise on Saturday. The moon will grow darker and then take on a reddish shade, before total eclipse at just before 5 AM. It will only last four minutes and 43 seconds, making it the shortest one of the century according to NASA.
Our ancient ancestors have always looked to the sky. They gave names to the Full Moons to keep track of the seasons. January's full moon is called the Wolf Moon. Because of the warming temperatures when earthworms begin to appear March's moon is the Worm Moon. While September's full moon is called the Corn Moon or Harvest Moon because its when corn was supposed to be harvested. These colorful names all in invoke a certain magic. The moon is our the closest heavenly body in our nighttime skies. For thousands of years, we have used its light to guide us in the dark. What better way to sense its lunar allure than to watch the sunset into golden waters in the west and see the moon climb into the evening sky while kayaking.
On one of my first moonlight paddles on Loon Lake in the Sierra Nevada Mountains, the full moon overpowered the night sky. It was a giant gleaming ball hanging over the lake. It was hard to even see stars and even more difficult to spot the meteors we came out to see. The moon was so bright, the party I was with joked about getting "moon burned" by its rays. The water twinkled and glistened from the celestial glow. A sparkling single ray danced on the water to the silhouetted outline of the great pines pointing up toward the illumination of the sky.
A hush came over the transfixed boaters. Our voices had seemed to be bewitched and taken away in total fascination. The moon has that kind of power. If it can control the tides of the sea, rending one speechless under its luster is effortless to it. In the stillness of the lake, all of my senses were rekindled while gliding silently along, soaking in night's peaceful enchantment. All around me, I hear the gentle sound of lapping of the water against the bow. The air is fresh, damp and still. In each stroke of my paddle, I pull its coolness into my lungs. Looking down, the water is engulfed in the darkness below me, while across from the other kayakers are sharp shadows on the silver lining of the lake. Basic paddling techniques and safety concerns should be considered before setting off on a moonlit kayaking experience. Inland night navigation boating regulations vary from state to state. The U.S. Coast Guard Rules requires canoe and kayaks to have proper lighting aboard to prevent collisions. A readily available hand-held flashlight or headlamp is the minimum requirement and should be sufficient on most waters restricted for only paddlers. For larger lakes shared with other boat traffic, it's recommended to have a 360° light, available to turn on and display in any direction. Make sure to place the light out of your line of sight so your night vision is not impaired.
Check with your outfitter or local state park to see if they offer a moonlit paddle night. Across the country, many of them offer sunset and full moon paddling sessions and provide all the gear for a reasonable price. Northern California's Current Adventures has been taking paddlers of all skill levels on their popular moonlit kayaking excursion at Lake Natoma near Sacramento for years.
So check your calendar for next full moon and bring that special someone for a romantic voyage or the whole family for a moonlit kayak adventure.
On a rainy spring day on Beers Lake in Minnesota's Maplewood State Park.
I'm one of the lucky ones now. I can pretty much paddle my kayak every day of the year. One of the advantages to living in Northern California near the American River. However, while living back in the upper Midwest I would count-down the days till the ice would clear away from the area lakes and rivers. I would watch for days when the temperatures would inch above 40 or 50 degrees to take my kayaks to the water.
Wading in just a few feet into the water, even with neoprene boots, gave me a quick reminder it was April and not July. The water was still dangerously cold.
“Many newer paddlers don’t realize that even though the
air temperature is warm, the water can still be ice cold,” said Todd
Robertson, a certified paddling instructor at the Iowa Department of
Natural Resources told the Des Moines Register.
“As spring arrives, it takes a while for that
water to warm up, making it necessary to have a wet or dry suit on and a
change of dry clothes in a dry bag in case you dump your boat,”
Robertson said. “Remember, wet clothing and cold water make for
hypothermic conditions.”
Outlining this safety factor, Austin Kayak www.ack.com/blog has put together five points for anyone looking to get a jump start on their paddling season this spring.
1. Start With The the Basics
Keeping warm on the water as temperatures start to drop isn’t as hard
as you think. Make sure you have all the basics like your PFD, spray
skirt (for sit insides), bilge pump (also for sit insides), whistle,
paddle leash and first aid kit. Add to this list a complete change of
clothes in a dry bag just in case you fall in the water and want to
change later. It may go without saying, but be sure that none of the
clothes you wear or pack are cotton. Cotton dries slow, meaning you’re
going to be cold if there’s even a slight breeze out, plus it weighs you
down. Just don’t do it. What should you wear? Well, I was getting to
that…
Cold Weather Paddling Apparel Layering Guide
2. Layering Is A Paddlers Best Friend Against the Cold
You’ll want to take on the cold with the appropriate paddling
apparel, and that means layering with synthetic materials proven to keep
you both warm and dry. I’d recommend starting with a good base layer in
early fall and then adding piece by piece as the weather gets colder.
Refer to ourColdWeather Paddling Apparel Layering Guide to see how you can best do this. Keep in mind that when it gets colder it will be more important to
keep as much covered as you can and this means investing in things like
neoprene socks, paddling gloves (or pogies) and headwear. One really
great headwear option that’s just arrived at ACK is theBuff Thermal Pro,which uses a Polartec fabric to cover your neck and head as well as merino wool for your chin and mouth.
3. Don’t Paddle On An Empty Stomach
It’s important that you hydrate whenever you’re paddling but it’s
easy to forget when the sun isn’t beating down on you. In fact, keeping
well fed and hydrated will help minimize the risk of hypothermia if you
happen to fall in the water. Carbohydrates and foods high in fat will
give you both energy and warmth. On especially cold nights, I recommend
bringing along a vacuum sealed flask of your favorite warm beverage
(non-alcoholic) like hot chocolate or cider.
4. Familiarize Yourself With Rescue Techniques
Even for a paddler who is dressed for cold water immersion, a swim
can still bring on hypothermia if you aren’t prepared. Knowledge of
rescue techniques and regular practice with your paddling companions
(and cold water paddlers SHOULD have partners) are essential. Rolling is
particularly important to know for sea kayakers or anyone else in a
sit-inside because the inability to perform this will mean an extended
exposure to cold water. All paddlers should also be able to re-enter
their kayak should an accidental capsize occur. If you aren’t
comfortable with these skills, make sure someone in your group knows
this and is prepared to help.
5. Wear Your PFD!
At risk of sounding like a broken record, my last tip is a reminder
to wear your PFD. Not only is it an added layer of insulation but they
will keep your head above water, increasing your ability to fight
against hypothermia dramatically. Just take a 10 minute lesson from the
Cold Water Boot Camp if you don’t believe me.
Also remember, cold water is not the only danger this
time of year. Springtime floods are common on many rivers. At flood stage rivers can be deadly and filled with hazards. Trees branches and other debris have been trapped in the
ice and when the river thaws, it moves downstream and is deposited at
the base of bridge pilings and the outside of tight bends in the river. A good knowledge of the river is vital when paddling in high water, along with good boat control skills and understanding how to navigate around
these hazards is crucial to remaining safe while on the river.
Canoes, kayaks, and stand-up paddleboards were involved in 20% of all
boating casualties in 2013 according to the U.S. Coast Guard 2013 Recreational Boating
Statistics. That year 109 people died as result of kayak or canoe mishap. Sobering statics on how safety practices should always be exercised no matter what the season.
Darin McQuoid grew up exploring and hiking river canyons. Little did he know he would turn it into a career. It was only a matter of time that he would learn to photograph and kayak those same whitewater-filled valleys and share that perspective with the world.
McQuoid, a California based photographer
and white water paddler, has kayaked most of the world on international expeditions to Africa, Pakistan,
India, Chile, Argentina, Slovenia, France, Japan, along with trips into Mexico and Canada as well as the USA. With an eye for action, his photographs have been published in National Geographic, Outside, Canoe and Kayak, Kayak
Session, Paddler, Rapid Magazine, Kanu and many other publications. Last week we talked to McQuiod about his kayaking, photography and passion for adventure.
NC: How many days did you spend kayaking last year? DM: The drought made last year tough, but I managed to get out about a hundred days, thanks in a large part to British Columbia.
NC: You
are an accomplished kayaker and photographer that enables you to mix both
worlds of exciting images and daring exploits. Which came first, the love
of photography or whitewater kayaking? DM: When I started kayaking I was amazed at how little information I could find on rivers I was curious about, so a camera was purchased just to share some of the great places we get to see.
NC: I try to get a good picture every time I go out on the water. How about you? Do you need a picture or do you try something new every time you go out?
DM: I always bring my camera on the river, and most days take at least a
couple photographs I've been thinking about. The camera gets left behind
two or three days a year. That's added up to 160,000 kayaking shots
since I started.
NC: In your portfolio, it looks
like you hike into some pretty remote places to get images of your
fellow kayakers. How does it all work? Do you plan out the image and have
them make several runs or is all timing & luck?
DM: High
end kayaking is dangerous business. I've never asked anyone to run a
rapid or waterfall twice, yet I wouldn't consider getting the shot luck
either. Whitewater photography lends itself to previsualization. In
class V there is generally one line, and as an experienced kayaker I'm
able to see that line and know where the fundamental moment of
expectation and action will happen. Then I wait for the paddler to get
there and it's all about timing. Long term previsualization is knowing
what time of day to shoot certain angles for good light.
NC: You
have gone down some major whitewater rivers throughout the world as
both a photographer and a paddler. Are they all different experiences? DM: For
sure they are. I feel a lot more stress on a paid trip where I need to
produce results. It's still fun but a very different experience than
paddling with friends for pure fun. It also tends to up the class of a
river. On top of dealing with logistics for navigating the river there
is a lot of energy spend hiking around to get a good angle for
photographs, and mentally you always have to be on and thinking,
anticipating the next shot.
NC: What is the strangest thing you have seen on the river? DM: I
have not seen anything too crazy, just some great wildlife moments like
bears swimming across and a reindeer swimming in Newfoundland. The
strangest things seem to happen while running shuttle, there are some
interesting people out there.
NC: You
said, "Being a great kayaker is not just about kayaking skill. It's also
about being an ambassador for the sport on and off the water, as well
as being a true team player on the water." Like you, I find everyone is
pretty much your friend when they have a paddle in their hand. Why in
such a competitive world is there such alliance in the world of kayaking?
DM: It's such a small fringe sport it lends itself to a
tight knit community. Plus unlike skiing, just because someone else
went first doesn't mean the line is tracked out.
The first river you paddle runs through the rest of your life. It bubbles up in pools and eddies to remind you who you are. -- Lynn Noel
It was an uncommonly warm day in March of 2012. That year's winter was unfamiliar, to begin with. It had been a snowless Christmas for the area for the first time in 50 years and only a few snowstorms followed into February. The Red River Valley's rivers weren't on the rampage for the first time in years and their winter top coat of ice was being shed easily. Temperatures were racing into the 70s, making it hard to resist my first trip kayaking that year. I ordinarily started in late April while living in Fargo, N.D. Paddling in the upper Midwest is a seasonable transition. Break the kayaks out in the late spring. Paddle as much as you can all summer long. Dodge the leaves, rain then snowflakes during autumn and grumble about the cold while stowing the boat away for the long winter.
The Otter Tail River was clear, low and running slow. I always kicked off my paddling seasons on that river. It is a delightful waterway weaving through woods, marshes and farmlands in the heart of Minnesota's lakes country. I would be paddling upstream from the highway access off 210 just east of Fergus Falls. Its popular put in and take out spot along the river during the summer for canoeists and tubers alike. However, that day I had the river to myself.
I would loop in and out of the channel going up river. In the shadows, snow was still clinging to the banks of the river. Around a bend, I came across the large sheet of ice spanning most of the river. It had the look of a glacier. The March sun, however, was taking control. The ice was being rapidly melting away with each drip falling back into the river. Spring was on its way and the paddling season had begun.
Over the Bow is a new feature from Outside Adventure to the Max, telling the story behind the image. If you have a great picture with a great story, submit it to us at nickayak@gmail.com
“As we passed on, it seemed as if those scenes of visionary enchantment would never have an end.” --Meriwether Lewis
I have always found that visionary enchantment Lewis writes about on my trips at Folsom Lake State Recreation Area's Rattlesnake Bar and up the North Fork of the American River. Gliding in clear water along a passageway between massive granite ramparts cradling the lake and river. The canyon walls also flow in patterns of the stream. The once molten rock now crystallized over millions of years has been lifted and exposed. Thin-bedded sedimentary layers have been shattered and busted along the fault lines while large boulders have become their own islands raising from the depths.
When I started kayaking I dreamed of being in a place like this. These were the places pictured in the favorite kayak magazines. Quiet inviting pools of water with amazing scenery, while just around the bend the ripples have turned into churning cascades. The sound of the thundering water echoing off the chasm walls has always called to me.
It is a warm day in March and the lake running high. It’s a far cry from more than a year ago when I was driving and walking on the lake’s floor. Now the lake is nearly double with the water it at about 100 percent of normal, meaning the lake levels are where they should be, despite the ongoing drought. It's a good sign. I'm able to paddle farther into the North Fork's canyon than I have before, passing the long gone miner's gold camps. During the Gold Rush thousands of miners picked, dug and blasted along the banks of the river looking for fortune, but today it is only me finding the riches of the lake and stream.
Before long the placid lake turns into moving water. I feel the tug of current pushing me back. At a couple rapids, I leap-frog the fast water by portaging my kayak. I hopscotch between the uneven rock. The footing isn't great. I find sandy beaches below each rapid along with clear blue pools. In summer this would be an inviting spot for a swim. However, it is March and the water remains liquid snow from the Sierra. Swimming will have to wait till next time. I press on until being stopped by a long line of rapids.
I have lunch on the beach and then go with the flow. I catch the current enjoying a bouncy ride to quieter waters.
For many years, my kayak trail snacks have consisted of peanut butter sandwiches, an apple or banana and a bottle of energy water. This was great for all those riverside meals that included a stop. However, I soon found some of my trips were non-stop and I had to eat on the run.
That's when I became enticed by those little metallic lightning bolts of packaged energy gels, those super sugar jams to make all of us run faster, leap higher and paddle harder. We have seen them on display in the health aisle of the grocery store. The packaging screams ENERGY with dazzling delicious and exotic flavors. Cherry Blaze, Chocolate Outrage, Vanilla Bean, Mandarin Orange, and Salted Caramel. Wow! Sounds like my all my favorite ice creams. How can I resist?
They all feature convenient, easy-to-use squeeze packages—simply squeeze into mouth and follow with a bit of water. Just like astronauts. Now I'm feeling pretty heroic. This kayak trip may not be to the moon, but we're going to eat like it is. Besides, there is NASA like the science behind these gels. Look at the ingredients. Words that I can't pronounce or even spell, listed in small print that is too hard to read. Energy, chocolate, and endurance, just add water and go.
The gels are a reliable, portable and convenient way of delivering carbohydrates to the body during intense exercise, said Dr. James Morton, senior lecturer in exercise metabolism and nutrition at Liverpool John Moores University in an interview with The London Telegraph.
“The traditional approach was to feed carbs with fluids, but we now know now we can feed them in the form of gel and get the same results,” he says. “From a practical point of view, you don't have to carry round lots of fluid – carry the gel then use drinking stations when you need fluid.”
The gels are marketed to marathon runners and road bikers hence the term drinking station. But they are also good on hikes and paddles while carrying your own water. The gel packets fit into a pack or PFD pocket with ease. But, experts say they shouldn't stay in there long.
In reality, gels only make a difference if you're running, hiking, biking or paddling for a sufficiently long time. The process of digestion takes 45 minutes to an hour before the body can begin to use them as a fuel. A good rule is to down one before your hike or paddle and gets that lift during the trip.
However, if you decided to consume the gel mid-trip your body will receive an instantaneous boost before gaining the real benefits once the sugar's of the gel have been processed in the digestive system. Nutritionists say this occurs because the receptors in the mouth are linked directly back to the brain. Detecting carbohydrates, neural signals are sent telling your body it's receiving nutrients, and in turn, allows you to push harder in the short term. Of course, I get that from a Snickers candy bar but try keeping that in your PFD on a hot summer day.
To see if the gels would hold up on the water, I took a couple of the most popular brand along on some river outings. The Clif Shot from the makers of the Clif nutrition bar is made from 90% organic ingredients had a sweet mellow taste. It was chocolate, so just seeing that gave me a fast-hit of energy. While the Stinger's gel made from a combination of pure honey is a pretty sweet experience. GU gave a number of selections from chocolate to salted caramel. They were all a treat for me.
So all of them passed my taste and texture test with ease.
We all have different tastes. Some have caffeine, but many don't. Pick a brand and flavor that works for you. Just remember these are concentrated sport drinks. To get the full effect of the gel, make sure you drink it with water, while on the water.
No epic adventure started with "On a bright sunny day. . ." tweeted adventurer Sean Conway.
We were grateful for the rain. It has been very dry since Christmas.Raindrops bounced off the windshield in big thuds before the wipers could push them away. We were driving down a winding road to the lake after leaving the highway. Gray clouds were everywhere as the lake came into view. As we parked and began unloading the sky unloaded on us.
What is about adverse weather that makes my boat trips more memorable? A man vs nature type endeavor. I'm not saying, I don't like bright sunny days. I really
do. Nothing is better than kayaking along while being kissed by the sun. In a state known for its sunshine, I have experienced lots of dazzling days this past year. However, across most the country unfavorable climates and kayaking coexist. Snow, rain. sleet and fog are paddled through heartily.
Both Canoe & Kayak and Adventure Kayak magazines always publish photos of boat men and women manning up against the harsh environment. Sarah Outen and Justine Cugenven pounding through heavy wind, rain and waves while making their way through the Aleutian Islands, while kayak adventurer Daniel Fox's expedition from Victoria B.C., to San Francisco experienced a full blast of nature making his trip come to an end.
"The wave literally fell on me, and within a second the kayak was broken in two below my knees," Fox told, Canoe & Kayak, "It was quite a swim."
The heavy rain didn't last long. Just long enough to send two fishermen running for cover and get our gear and kayak seats a little wet. This was the first time my kayak partner Erik Allen had brought me to Rollins Lake. The lake at 2,100 elevation is on the western side of the Sierra near Colfax, California. It is 900 acre reservoir with 26 miles of shoreline, perfect for paddling year round. Erik was on mission to scout out some trails near the mouth of the Bear River. Our plan was to kayak up the lake and river as far as we could before the current pushed us back.
The water looked like green emerald under the gray skies. We kayaked along the rust color shore, breaking up the quiet water. Around the bend loomed a bank of mist hanging over the lake. Erik, who grew up close by has paddled the lake many times before, but for him there is always something new.
"Rollins Lake is always changing," whispered Erik, "It never looks the same."
Lakes are like that. I thought back to my paddling days in Minnesota, remembering the way the snow looked along the shore of Red River Lake and the way the rain came down in the early spring on Beers Lake in Maplewood State Park. The day's conditions has framed many of my paddling memories. My sons will always start their tale of camping with, "Remember how cold it was or how it rained when we went to..." The day's weather has added to our experiences whether it was fair or foul.
A layer of fog engulfed us as we paddled farther along. It was like floating on a cloud. I let Erik paddle up farther ahead so I could get a photo. Before long he disappeared in the white haze dropping into the unknown.
Our paddle through the mist added to the magic of our trip to the
lake. The rainy and foggy weather are now etched into another paddling
memory.
If you wait for the perfect day. You will never go. "Sunshine is delicious, rain is refreshing, wind braces us up, snow is exhilarating," said English writer John Ruskin, "There is really no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather."
By Kristen Collins
Waking up before the sun rises is a bit of a rarity for me, but there’s something about the crisp cold air hitting your sunblock slathered face and the feeling of wool base layers against your skin that help ease you into an early morning. After I make a quick stop for a Venti 5 shot latte, my weekly trip to Tahoe will begin. I had always gone with groups of people because I thought skiing alone would be so boring. But the lack of a boyfriend, and the lack of friends with similar days off from work, made the hopes of group skiing nearly impossible for the 2014-2015 season. I’m not the kind of girl that lets things like that get in the way though. I wanted to ride my brand new ski set up. I couldn’t let my 2015 K2 Potion 90’s or Lange XT 90’s sit in my room any longer so clean and pristine. They needed to shred, to feel that rush I was craving. So the solo days began.
At first I was nervous to ride alone. I thought I would get bored of hearing my own thoughts, or just lonely not having anyone to talk to. I couldn’t have been more wrong. It was liberating my first solo day. I hit more runs in half a day of riding than I ever had on a full day with a group of people. I rode what I wanted, when I wanted, every time. Armed with nothing more than my iPhone and my headphones, I was able to connect with music, Mother Nature, and even with God. There’s something about being alone on a mountain face, surrounded by trees and snow that make you feel connected again and completely alive. It was somewhat of an accomplishment. It empowered me to realize I didn’t need others to push me, I was capable of pushing myself to try new things.
After I rode Northstar alone, I felt like a bit of a bad ass. I consider it my home mountain because I can get there in an hour and a half, so most trips to Tahoe land me in “The Village”. I thought since I could rip the front side, backside, and even hit a few things in the Burton terrain park, I was ready to challenge myself even more. It was time to try a new mountain. I felt like a confident skier but I’m still learning. I didn’t have the privilege of growing up in the sport or even discovering it in high school or college. I started skiing 3 years ago when I started working for Any Mountain, a Ski and Snowboard shop in Roseville. We got free season passes for being employees, and I took full advantage of the perks.
It only made sense to try riding Heavenly next. It was the next closest resort my pass worked at, and I had been wanting to see that view that everyone always talks about. I was not disappointed. This season most people have been talking about the terrible conditions in Tahoe, the lack of snow, and the lack of storm systems in the forecast. But for me this season has been about self-reflection and realization. I didn’t care that I couldn’t hear my music at some points of riding because the sound of ice was too loud under my skis. I didn’t care about the bare spots of grass and dirt I would have to avoid on some runs. I didn’t even care that most of the California side was closed at Heavenly. I was there, alone, and seeing all of Tahoe from the top of the mountain. It was beautiful.
After that incredible view, it gave me the urge to finally chase after some actual powder. Which left me with no other choice but to make the trip to Kirkwood. This time I armed myself with a GoPro and a friend… Well, two friends… Well, two snowboarders. Which really meant I’d be riding alone once I got there, so the company for the extended drive time to the mountain was appreciated. I had stopped checking weather reports because it had become depressing. So as we began making the drive and got hit with dark clouds and rain, we couldn’t help but get excited when it started turning to sleet, and then eventually actual snow. As we curved down highway 88 around Caples Lake, I’d look up through my moon roof at my ski racks and see my skis covered in ice and snow. Maybe it was a little wet, but it was exciting! There was going to be actual snow, powder, and at Kirkwood. When we pulled into the Resort and got out of the car it was pure bliss. It was snowing. I couldn’t help but send out a few Snapchats acting out the scene in “Edward Scissorhands” when Winona Ryder spins around with her hands out as ice shavings fall down over her head. And in my signature ‘snow bunny white’ ski pants, I couldn’t help but feel like I was in a movie. It was incredible.
I bundled myself up, strapped on the chesty harness for the GoPro and started recording. I had the best time just chasing fresh tracks down every run. I could actually see my skis performing better, feel them float over the freshness, glide through the trees and dig into power through my turns. It was so amazing. I felt good, so good I decided to really challenge myself through the terrain park. I can’t help but be attracted to the thrill of catching air, and I hadn’t tried rails or boxes yet so I thought, eh, I’ll be fine. I was, and got some really funny footage out of it. I couldn’t have laughed any harder than that moment. I tried and I failed, but it didn’t matter because it was so much fun. That’s all that mattered to me. I didn’t want to leave the mountain saying to myself, I should have tried that. I wanted to leave saying, I can’t believe I did that.
There’s been several other solo trips since and a few group trips too, which are always a great time. But there’s something about being alone that drives me to Tahoe every week. Maybe it’s because I know Northstar so well but it always seems to hit me when I find a hidden stump in the trees. I take out my ear buds and just sit there, soaking it all in. I realize how lucky I am to have the opportunity to even get a season pass, let alone be on top of a mountain. It’s always a little humbling to see how small you are and how big the outdoors around you is. These are the times I know I will always cherish when I’m older. These small moments I take when I’m challenging myself, and even at times inspiring myself, are moments I don’t ever want to forget or stop experiencing. When the snow snobs start saying things like, “why bother” or “there’s no snow in Tahoe” I can’t help but chuckle. Because sometimes it’s not about the snow, or fresh pow. Sometimes it’s just about being there to remind yourself you’re capable of anything if you give yourself the chance. Sometimes we need to take more small moments to appreciate what we have in front of us. What better place to have these reflections than on the face of one of Tahoe’s amazing mountains? Just in case you were wondering, I have mastered the art of hitting the box since my first attempt! See you on the Mountain, or in the village by the fire!
Kristen Collins is a guest blogger for Outside Adventure to the Max. If you have an adventure to share, contact Nick Carlson at nickayak@gmail.com
It was raining hard on the South Fork of the American River. We unloaded our kayaks from our parked car just off the Highway 49 and walked a crooked path to the river. Under the bridge we escaped the rain and found easy access to the river. We were soon paddling down the river.
It is a scene I have done time and time again. Using the bridge right-of-away to gain access to the waterway. Across the country, informal access sites are used by paddlers and fisherman along roads and within bridge right-of-ways to get to the lake and stream in a few simple steps.
That all might change in Washington State with a bill underway this legislative session that would severely limit access to the state's waterways. The bill introduced by Representative Larry Haler from Richland, would prohibit water access on small parcels of public land unless the managing agency provides a formal river access site and parking lot. Under proposed legislation, public land
managers would be required to post signage that public access to the water is prohibited on small
parcels of public land without formal parking that currently provide access to our state's
waterways. Violators would be charged with a misdemeanor.
I support development of river access and designated parking sites along the waterway's corridor where use levels are a practical investment. I have used many public access sites over the years enjoying their benefits. However, I still feel this would hamper and limit many paddling experiences along rivers without access points and fear it might be used as precedent for other states restricting water access.
"Diligence and recurring defenses of our freedoms that we often
take for granted is a never ending responsibility of the many, not just
the few." posted Californian kayaker Dan Crandall on Facebook, "Those fights can manifest themselves in places you might never
expect, and therefore you must be prepared to recognize the signs when
they appear.
I'd call this a sign to be noticed before the battleground grows. Let
your Washington state friends know."
The full text of the bill is below:
House Bill 1056:
AN ACT Relating to restricting the use of certain parcels of public land to access a public body
of water; adding a new section to chapter 79.02 RCW; and prescribing penalties.
BE IT ENACTED BY THE LEGISLATURE OF THE STATE OF WASHINGTON:
NEW SECTION. Sec. 1. A new section is added to chapter 79.025RCW to read as follows:
(1) If a parcel of public land is one-quarter of a square mile or less in size and is adjacent to
a body of public water and the land is or can be used to access the body of public water, the
governmental entity which has jurisdiction of the land must provide adequate public parking for
persons utilizing the land to access the water.
(2) If adequate public parking is not provided, using the land to access the water for other than
a governmental purpose is prohibited. If adequate public parking is not provided, the
governmental entity which has jurisdiction of the land must post a warning sign for the public
that clearly shows that using the land to access the water is prohibited and states the sanction
for a violation of the prohibition.
The Mississippi River and downtown St Paul, Minnesota.
There is a whirl of activity at Hidden Falls Park in St. Paul, Minnesota. Shuttle buses are coming and going. Kayaks and canoes are being unloaded and carried to the grassy staging area next to the river. Numbers are have been assigned, pictures are being taken, while water, apples and granola bars are packed into the boats. It is the annual Migthyssippi River Adventure Race day on the Mississippi River. Over a 100 hundred paddlers have signed up for the 14-mile charity event through the Twin Cities. The paddler's instructions on the river are easy: Be Safe, stay to the right of the river when traveling downstream. Avoid all boats and barges and have fun.
A countdown from the loudspeakers and soon the river is filled with kayaks and canoes of every color and size. Before long the paddlers spread out going past Fort Snelling State Park and the skyline of St Paul giving each one their own perspective of the famous river. At times it is gritty and industrial, but also offers an oasis of nature in the heart of city dwellings.
Most paddlers feel like they are discovering it for the first time. They are surprised that an urban river can contain so much beauty and nature. It happens all the time for urban paddlers. The waterways thought to be dirty and polluted are found clean, inviting and full of wildlife. On the Red River between Fargo and Moorhead, I have seen deer, beaver and even a bald eagle along the bends of the rivers just blocks away from downtown. River otters splash and hide in the rocks underneath the Rainbow Bridge over Lake Natoma and the American River, while farther down Californian quail, deer, and Canadian geese find a haven in the sloughs.
The American River Parkway
On the river urban views are blocked by trees. The only reminder that one is even close to civilization is going to the cities train and highway bridges. The buzz of traffic echoes off the water giving us the only clue we are close to home. In some places, we go back in time past turn of the century mills and remnants. Along the Red River on the Moorhead side, I can still find broken bottles from the prohibition days when North Dakota was dry and Minnesota taverns were right on the river. On the American River, huge piles of dredge tailings are still visible from gold mining days. The waterways are no longer highways or dumping grounds and the rivers have now reclaimed their banks.
Paddling in downtown Fargo, North Dakota.
Canoeist Natalie Warren founder of the outdoor education nonprofit Wild River Academy has trekked the waterways across the country to observe how rivers are promoted in their communities. In a recent interview with Canoe & Kayak Magazine said, "When I paddled urban rivers from Minneapolis to Hudson Bay and from Minnesota down to the Gulf of Mexico, I realized that our local water trails have their own beauty and, even more, provide a classroom to learn how our country uses rivers. My experiences on wild and urban rivers inspired me to speak about building a culture around urban paddling, diversifying the paddling community, and increasing recreation, positively impacting all aspects of society."
Natalie Warren left and Ann Raiho in Fargo, N.D., during the 2011 Minneapolis to Hudson Bay Trip
Warren's goal is to increase recreation through the public waterways in river towns with the addition outfitters, hiking and bike paths, restaurants and interpretive centers, campgrounds and most important access to the water.
"I hope to highlight the positive ripple effects of opening up to the river and prioritizing water trails to improve recreation and trails, tourism and economies, and increased environmental education and ecosystem health. It all starts with a paddle in the water. Every time you paddle locally you are partaking in a larger movement for the betterment of communities, ecosystems, and the future of river-town economies."
Paddlers taking part in the Mightyssippi River Adventure finished the day under the Interstate 94 bridge, 14 miles downstream. They came away with sore muscles and smiles with this annual day on the Mississippi. Of course for some, this experience is only a warm up to their annual Boundary Waters trip or lifelong dream of going down the Grand Canyon. However, paddling locally and exploring their neighborhood water trail gave them a low-cost view of the river, right in their own backyard.
The river delights to lift us free, if only we dare to let go. Our true work is this voyage, this adventure. (Richard Bach, Illusions: The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah)
It is the start of the new year for us all. For some of us, it is time setup, plan and dream about tripsin this oncoming year.
Armed with two new books, Paddling Northern California, from Falcon Guide and The American River Insider's Guide to Recreation Ecology and Cultural History of the North, Middle and SouthForks, from Protect American River Canyons. I look through the pages researching and planning new kayak trips. Paddling Northern California by Charlie Pike is now in its second edition complete with color pictures and maps. Pike details 70 river and lake trips through out the northern tier of California. He highlights take out and put in information as well as giving overview of the paddling experience. Meanwhile, The American River is guide to the North, Middle and South Forks of California's American River. It is in it's third edition giving great tips for both hiking and paddling. It was put together by a host of contributors giving a local flavor and history of the three river canyons. After thumbing through the pages I brim with excitement and anticipation of the new year. So many water trails, so little time.
My goal is to get out and paddle more, visit these places and make them more to me than just a couple of pages in a travel book. An over night paddling trip down the Sacramento River, an outing at Elkhorn Slough and kayaking across on Emerald Bay in Lake Tahoe. I paddled 133 days last year and look forward to getting close to that mark again, yet still haven't not hit some favorite places on the map.
Still, I have a paddling buddy who said, "You know I really like paddling and kayaking a lot." He then paused looking over the lake and added, "But, there are so many other fun things I like to do to."
I have to agree with him. I need to get my mountain bike out of the garage and take it down the trail. My cross country skis and snowshoes have been sitting in the corner way to long. I need to try downhill skiing and hike uphill backpacking. So this new year, I look forward to experiences both old and new. Seeing the more the world around me in many different ways, of course over the bow as my favorite.
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