Thursday, February 23, 2017

Does walking make you less of a paddler?

Last weekend, I was sitting down on the rocks in the middle of Zoar Gap taking pictures. The rest of the group had just paddled through, and now it was my turn. I could have easily slipped my boat back into the water, pealed out into the current, and attempted to hug the right line through the Gap as I have so many times before. Instead, I decided to walk my boat, and I’ve felt guilty about it ever since. 

I know that my guilt was entirely self-imposed - no one in the group said a word, or even seemed to care. Still, it brings up a question that we all probably struggle with on occasion – does walking make you less of a paddler? 

In some ways it definitely does. There is a lot of truth to the old adage “if you aren’t swimming, you aren’t trying hard enough”. To become a better paddler you definitely have to push yourself to take risks, and if walking becomes a crutch, then that’s a problem. Based on the number of swims that I have taken over the past few years, I’m not worried about that yet.

But does that mean that you need to run every rapid? Stretching your abilities is one thing, but I also try to temper that with the desire to be self-sufficient. I joke with another paddling friend that we are class II paddlers with class IV self-rescue skills, and we over estimate our self-rescue skills. It’s good to know that the group is there to support us, but it’s always better if they don’t have to.

So I have come to the conclusion that occasionally it is OK not to run a rapid. Paddling is not about a single event. It’s about running the river, and getting home that night to run another river another day. It’s about pushing your abilities, but not putting yourself or others at unreasonable risk. It’s about enjoying a day on the water with a great group of people. So if my ego gets bruised occasionally, either by swimming or by walking, I’m OK with that.

So to all my paddling friends, here's the deal - if I’m tired, if I’m cold, if my gut is telling me that today is not the day to run that rapid, I might walk.  But if I don't, thanks in advance for fishing me out when I swim.
Zoar Gap - that's me sitting on the rock on the left

Monday, February 20, 2017

Fife Brook - February 19, 2017

Carbis Bend
As I drove up Route 91 into Deerfield, I saw snowmobiles in the fields and ice fishermen on the lakes, and I wondered if it was a good idea to drive 2 hours to go canoeing.  Then I drove over a bridge and saw that the Deerfield River was flowing high and ice-free, and I knew it was going to be a good day.

As things turned out, I had a couple of paddling options. There was a group doing a low level (500 cfs) run on the Lower Winni. I definitely want to do that somethime, but decided it would be better to do with a group I know when the water is a little warmer. There was also a group doing a Tville run. As much as I like Tville, I’ve run it a lot lately, so I decided to run the Fife Brook section of the Deerfield River instead.   

Freight Trainb 
I met the group of 6 kayaks and 3 canoes at the take out for the shuttle up to the dam.  The river was at a nice level – 3.5 feet, 1,100 cfs.  It looked like winter with snow on the ground, but felt more like spring with temperatures in the high 50’s. 

We put in at around noon and began working our way downstream. We ran Hangover Helper, did some surfing at Carbis Bend and Freight Train, and played in Pinball for a while.  When we reached the Gap, I headed down first to get some pictures.  Everyone made it through fine.  When it was my turn, I looked at the rapid, looked at my boat sitting on the rocks, and wimped out and decided to walk. Oh well, at least I didn’t swim…

Hangover helper