Hanging Out Under MOVING Water

Kayak Lessons, Day 3

Old kayaking maxim: "There are two kinds of kayakers--those who've been in the drink, and those who are about to be."

On Monday, July 19th, I was both.

I spent a lovely first half of the day with KT, my trusty instructor from RMOC (actually, she's from New Zealand) working on a sort of review of general boat handling techniques, which was a good thing considering I hadn't been in my boat AT ALL during the month between my 2nd and 3rd lesson. Shame on me. But I was too busy. Wah, wah.

We worked under a gloriously blue sky sprinkled with a few clouds. The Class I and II stretch of the Arkansas River east of Salida about a mile from the Lone Pine takeout was clear and cool, but not painfully cold. I reviewed the famous Wet Exit, but found to my dismay I still couldn't make myself overturn my boat deliberately--kinda like jumping out of that perfectly good airplane--why? But she rolled me a few times and I exited just fine. We also worked hard (well, I WORKED HARD) on eddy entrances/exits, carving, turns, straight and sweep strokes, and a new move, the "ferry"--wherein my job was to row my 'yak upstream and across the river. Much harder than it might seem, but I suppose I got it. By lunchtime, I was feelin' it, and KT probably needed a PBR (she'll have to wait for supper at my house for that, but it will be frosty and ready).

At lunch, I asked her to grade my performance (since I'm a teacher), and she rated me at a B. I think that was pretty magnanimous of her, but hey, I'll take the compliment. Those of us who teach know the art of "praising with faint damns." I think I may have been a C.

Then, all hell broke loose. After a serious safety talk over paddle signals, swimming position, and a few other river nuances like what to do with the safety rope when or if it's thrown to me, we did a one-mile stretch just downstream of where we'd been training. She assured me we'd stay only a few boat lengths apart, that this was just a little thing ... a couple of rapids, one strainer ... nothing too big.

Yeah.

As she stroked away from me, my heart heaved in my chest while my peanut-butter sandwhich tried to make a second appearance. "Go, dammit!" I told myself. "Keep up with her!"

I navigated the first little rapid okay--some of it backward or sideways, though--and when we got through that, I relaxed just a bit. KT pointed out the strainer on my right--a rock with sticks and junk hung on it--and I hadn't even seen it. I was too busy trying to keep my boat heading straight.

We approached the second little rapid ... a few rocks here--BANG, bonk--and then I executed a classic "side pin"--my boat parallel and sideways to a rock. And I also executed a set of perfectly wrong moves in quick succession. They were: (1) rolling INTO the current, instead of away from it toward the rock, which would have likely freed my boat, and (2) attempting to STAND UP once I had wet-exited.

So number (1) flipped my kayak with ease, and number (2) made KT practically want to beat the crap out of me--that is, if I didn't drown. Yeah, the water was only about 4 feet deep, but that didn't matter. I KNEW I shouldn't be trying to stand up. I KNEW I could get a foot trapped. But my body still doesn't have the wherewithal to listen to my mind. This proves once again intellectual knowledge is a far cry from actual, practical practice. You'd figure I'd learn that by now.

This, unfortunately has been a lifelong problem.

"Don't stand up! Swim! SWIM!!" she yelled over and over. All I could think of was how could I manage to swim AND keep hold of the paddle? (Thank God KT had my boat.) I made it to shore, picked my way around the rocks toward my boat, now already dumped and balanced between two rocks.

"How was that?" she asked, a slightly smug and pleasantly malicious smile on her face, as I approached.

I only wish I could remember what I said. It probably wasn't too nice.

So, at the takeout, though it would have been GOOD for me to do that stretch again, I declined. I was whipped, and I know what happens when I'm that tired. I make even worse mistakes.

KT, bless her, recommended that I spend more time in the boat on flatwater before I get into the river again. Good idea. I WILL be in the river again, but maybe not this year. My flatwater blogging may not be as exciting ... but then again, who knows? I'm the one in the kayak, after all.

Hanging out under moving water is, as they say in Texas, "a whole 'nother thing."

My fridge has a little magnet on it that says, "Do something every day that scares you."

I think I'm set for about a month.