Alex and Keith were having a blast practicing their more advanced maneuvers in every little hole they could find along the way. I would work on ferrying into the hole and surfing a bit, then sliding back out. Each step along the way Alex would point out how we were moving into a more advanced section, how to “find the green water”, or where people had died in the past. “Oh, don’t worry it’s not this section it’s the one we’re going to next. . . ” he’d say. Oh, thanks Alex! Our favorite Alex”ism” of the day was his instructions about a particular hole we would play in later. “If you flip, just wait until your head bumps the big rock, then it’s ok to roll up. . ” Sounds fun!!

So for all you white water paddlers out there were talking about class 2+ to 3s. Nothing that would shock anyone with experience, but enough to righteously train the un-initiated. So that’s where we get to my nemesis hole. Nothing too big, or scary really. From the eddy along the shoreline you ferry glide across the first bit of white into another eddy right behind a big rock. To the right of the rock is the hole. The water dropped maybe a foot or so into the hole and produced a nice back flow. To the right of the hole were a bunch of big boulders. If you got blown out you could return into the long eddy which would take you back to the top. Ok. But for us newbies. If you got blown out and didn’t get back into the eddy quickly you would slide back into some boulders and more nice drops and can only hope to catch another eddy further down if you were lucky. I KNOW THIS. I KNOW IT WELL!

Well we all stopped to play in the hole. Fine. It really did not strike me as all that intimidating. Although that eddy in the middle did not look like it would support 3 boats easily without a lot of jostling. I sat along the bank under the shade of a big tree enjoying the day and spacing out. I had my skirt popped to get at my water. I was jolted out of my daze by Alex yelling over the noise of the river to come on out. I was trying to shout back something like “Don’t worry, I’ll be out” or whatever, but he didn’t hear me, I couldn’t hear him either, and a bit frustrated I just launched out, crossed the rapid, slid into the eddy and jumped into the hole. Well, the white foamy bit anyway. So far so good. I played for a few moments, then spun out. I took a couple strokes to catch the eddy and realized my nose was WAY under. OH NO!! I was going down! Alex saw me sliding away and said later he wondered why I was doing a “bow stall”. Keith who really wanted to get back into the hole looked at my now half-submerged self floating away down the river and yelled “Are you ok?”. I thought about it as I began to sink deeper, bang into the lower rocks, and as he slid further and further away. I yelled back, “I don’t really know”. Well suffice to say I couldn’t roll a waterlogged, bow stalled kayak and bailed. Like a any nice BCU Baby I held onto my boat and paddle and worked my way toward an eddy along the shady banks. At the last moment Alex was there to give me his tail for a hand hold over that last step into the calm water.

I sat there for a moment getting my head back together and then got to work draining the boat. Alex asked, “What happened”. I told him I didn’t really know. Everything was fine in the hole and until I got knocked out I must have blown the skirt. Alex said, “No that was what I was yelling to you”. Your Skirt! Your Skirt!”. “Oh”, I said. “I thought you were yelling get out here”, so I. . . did. Just a reminder that no matter how “capable” you or your companions are, humans do silly things.

So we carried out boats back up river, put on our skirts, I know, I double checked, then slid back out into the hole. In retrospect I probably should have taken a few more minutes to get back into the “here and now”. My next dive into the hole was fast and furious. I quickly presented the wrong edge and went over. Opening my eyes as I set up my roll I saw the rock when I hit and it knocked one hand off the paddle. I was able to get a bit of a grip on the rock and lifted myself enough to get air, but could not hipsnap as the pressure was pushing me into the rock. I went back under and tried to turn the paddle back so I could get it with the other hand, but again the current was not going to let me do that and there was a big rock in the way. I was quickly needing air. Really needing air. I swam! This time I lost the paddle which Alex grabbed and we again slid back into the eddy about 25 yards down river. Even I knew I deserved some punishment for that one. Had I pushed off the rock I would have been carried past it, then I could have probably angel or hand rolled it up with the paddle in one hand. At least that was an option. But the rock and the generally uniqueness of situation didn’t let me see that. My fault. I deserved the boot.

Again I carried the boat back up to get ready to try that hole. But now I was spooked. Not scared but psyched out. I knew I needed to do it again, but my brain was funkified. I worked my way back out into the center eddy and watched them play. I thought better of having my paddles unfeathered. I had thought since I was doing so much tradional paddling lately that might help. But my braces had been weak all day. I re-feathered them. That did feel back to normal. I tried to figure out where that rock was and how to get wide of it. My brain was rebelling and like a little devil on my shoulder it was trying to convince me I’d just go right back over and be hugging that rock. Yet, I’m not a quitting type either. One thing I’ve learned though is that sometimes you just need a change of scenery. I decided I needed a new atmosphere. I was going to wait for the next hole.

We carried on down the river and enjoyed some big white stuff; A couple nice big wave trains, and a few small but turbulent drops. We stopped for lunch near Bear Paw and enjoyed what Alex called a “Park and Play” spot with all sorts of technical play areas. Park and Play means you could go in at the top of this fast drop, play your way to the bottom and easily carry back up and do it all over again. After a few moments laying out under a big shade tree and having a guy in a canoe say from the water, “Hey, your Derrick right?. . . ” (Nice to see you by the way!) we went slipped back out ourselves for round two. Now refocused I played around concentrating on edges, peel-outs, and ferry angles. I missed one eddy and slid over an interesting drop backwards, yet spun round to glide over to an eddy on the other side. There I waited while Alex and Keith displayed more of their white water skill. Slowly we worked our way to the bottom where there was one last small drop with a baby hole before opening up into a calm lake. We spent a good part of an hour there taking turns sliding in, playing and spinning out again. By now I was beginning to understand my edges. It was getting more intuitive. With my feathered paddle, my braces were back. It had been a long day and I was getting if anything, just a touch bored. I was also starting to feel the spots where various rocks had given me a good wallop earlier in the day. I decided to just take a couple more turns before I paddled to the takeout. I thought about that big spot that wiped me out earlier and I thought, I’d like to try that again. I still felt a little twinge, but I also felt like I needed to give it another go. Next time.

So Adriene Levknecht who is a mind boggling white water paddler said that there was a tradition. If you EVER came out of your boat in the water you get “the boot”. (Not to be confused with DAS BOOT) It means you have to have your first drink off the water, out of the dirty, smelly, and slightly un-tidy paddling shoes you’ve been wearing all day. As much as I thought the first “swim” didn’t count, Keith and Alex felt I should not only get the boot, but should have to fill it with Pabst Blue Ribbon beer as well! Now that’s torture!! The second was just an ordinary bootable offence. One that I can learn from.

In retrospect, I feel ok about my first white water experience. I had my combat roll down and used it. The noise and rush of the water does not bother me much either up or down. Actually it feels calmer under the surface. The rocks do bother me a bit. I know I had to just push off, but that is certainly new for me. I know that doing the first silly thing, not getting my skirt affixed, lead to my lack on concentration the second time around. Yet I did surf the hole without a skirt!!! (If only for a moment) Try that! LOL! After that I did need a change of atmosphere but I didn’t cut and run. I went back in and worked other spots. I learned a lot about edging in white water. I’d do it again. But next time you might hear a big long exhale as my boat slides back into the current.

* what no pictures of me? curse of the photogapher.

Related Posts:

1. Swimming
2. Tight’s All Right
3. Ahnu Report
4. Back Support
5. down the river