Personal Journal

Kayaking

It is never too late to be what you might have been. -- George Eliot
Courage to start and willingness to keep everlasting at it are the requisites for success. -- Alonzo Newton Benn

I would be remiss if I didn't describe my first foray into kayaking. My running joke is that it's wrong to describe it as kayaking. It's more like "swimming with a kayak shaped anchor."
But I wasn't as bad as all that.

Yesterday was the Platte river training course I signed up for. Shit I can't paddle a boat in a straight line. OUt of 8 people in the first day's class (the lake/still water training) and 6 the second, I was worst both days. I don't think anyone swam more than I, either.

Anyhow, I did have a good time, and I did buy my first kayak today!

The initial day's training I did okay, except for paddling in the aforementioned straight line. That's bad, and makes everything else harder. I did better the second day, on the river, but the river makes it a little easier to paddle in a direction due to the current.

We had what, 6 rapids yesterday? Little ones. Beginner ones. And I tipped on three, I made three. I think one other person fell twice, one once. So again, I did worst. Oh well. I seemed to have eddying in and out down better than some.

Jeez, let me just tell you who haven't imagined kayaking something to imagine.

I can swim forever if my life depended on it. I learned to swim when I was about 3. It's one of my earliest memory, and I swam a mile for a boy scout merrit badge before I was 14. Maybe a little younger.
I can swim, and I'm not afraid of my body being in any position in the water.

Until kayaking.
The very first thing we learned to do in still water is exit the boat. No problem. In training, it's not a big deal (nor really is it in the river). The thing is, there are easier ways on your body and your time to recover from an upside down kayak than just getting your body out and pulling it ashore every time (this is called "swimming" in Kayaking - it means you, without the boat, swimming in the river). The eskimo roll, or the C-to-C roll, as it's called, is THE way to get upright again. An essential skill. Then there's the T-rescue where another boat come up to you and you use your arms on the front of a buddy's boat to leverage yourself upright. Again, not too tough, and essential.

I learned how to do them all on the still water, and I was one of the best at the C-to-C (no assistance) roll in the class. So I was hopeful that on the river day, if I did go over, I would be able to auto-recover. I hoped I would be "that excellent student" who had a natural inclination to learning it.

Enter the Platte river in downtown Denver.

I was headed down the first rapid, and I leaned back at the bottom of it. It was about 3 boats length long. When I leaned back, I changed my center of balance, and into the drink I went.

Remember that notion of swimming forever? Being calm in the water? Fast forward to this...

You're upside down in a boat, your head underwater, and your legs unable to move to propel you. There's a fucking BOAT where your legs are supposed to be. It's dark in the churning water, and the current is feeling like it's rushing by you.

I totally panicked. Get me out of this thing by the fastest means possible. I yank on the skirt handle, and I'm free. There's my instructor, saying fun-lovingly, but mockingly "Where was your distress bang, why didn't you wait for me to come over and do a T rescue."

Yeah, that would be because I was freaked the hell out. So I got the boat dry and we continued. I'm not embarassed about it. I panicked. Happens.

Next time I went over, I did manage to stay somewhat more calm and wait till I saw her boat at mine (I'm looking up from underwater), and I tried a T-rescue, but she wasn't in the right position as I recalled in the lake (hey, it's moving water, it's not quite the same as a flowing river) and I tried once, but when that failed, I bailed.

Last time I had to swim, I was waiting to do a T rescue again, and I hit a rock when he was there, and I just bailed because the rock stopped my momentum enough that he went by me.

So, yeah. Swimming. Been there, done that.

But I signed up for the river course again in two weeks, it's cheaper the second time, and I bought everything I need for my own kayak to practice here at a local lake by work. I may do that Wednesday, go out there and at least try paddling and exiting my new boat. Well, it's used, but it's going to feel differently than the one I had in class.

Gonna have to look online and see if I can get a buddy to come help me with a few things on a lake perhaps, but I'm safe just paddling. I know how to exit a boat and swim to shore, so no chance of anything going wrong.

The teachers were great. The co-students were great. I've never had that much fun at a random gathering of strangers unless we were all smoking drugs (LOL). When we were done, our course had ended with us by a restaurant in Denver, so most of us, all but two, went and ate and talked for about an hour longer. I bought the first round for everyone, and then I made two toasts.

First I toasted our instructors, because in all the things I have ever had to learn from an instructor, I have never seen two more positive and gifted instructors. They were in their early 20s, which may or may not surprise people. But the whole gang was just an incredibly positive group.

Next, I toasted "The loves of our lives, whoever, or WHATever, they may be."
That was my all-inclusive toast to Jean, who is the one I went there for. The group seemed to like my toasts, and I was impressed with the fact that I may have been the worst kayaker there in our lesson group, but I still made a positive impression based on what a good person I can come across as.

That made me happy because that's all Jean asked me to do. Be a good man.

So, we'll see what I can do with some practice on Quail Lake this week.