I finally got back in the boat after being out of it for nine days. There were just too many things going on off the river.
I paddled for an hour and felt pretty good. The weather is getting warmer now after a few chilly, windy days--a big front came through last Friday that was probably part of that system that collided with Hurricane Sandy to create the big "Frankenstorm."
All kinds of wildlife were hanging out just above the Hernando DeSoto Bridge near the Arkansas side. I saw a beaver, and then a big flock of migrating waterfowl that didn't let me get close enough for a good look. From a distance they looked like baby ducklings, but I wouldn't think it's the right time of year for that.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Monday, October 29, 2012
Monday photo feature
I'll be making my first trip down the Tallulah next Sunday. I've heard many stories of the Oceana experience, and I guess I'll finally learn what all the fuss is about.
Monday, October 22, 2012
Monday photo feature
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Offseason thoughts
This weekend I put in a pair of 60-minute sessions on the downtown riverfront. I drove down there yesterday but rode my bike today. It's been a classic fall weekend, and yesterday in particular was picture-perfect: sunny, low 70s, no wind.
Here in my offseason I'm paddling just a couple of times a week. But I'm not that worried about getting too far out of shape because I always seem to be doing something. It helps that my line of work doesn't have me sitting at a desk all day long. As a woodworker, I'm constantly moving logs and lumber around, and sawing, and planing, and carving, and chopping.
Different people do different things during the competitive offseason. Some people feel no need to take a break from paddling at all, and just train throughout the year. Others could use some sort of mental break from the boat, and seek out other physical activities: running, bike riding, skiing, basketball... there's really no wrong thing to do as long as you keep your body moving.
I'm trying to catch up on some whitewater paddling during this offseason--I took a trip several weeks ago and hope to take another in a couple of weeks. But around this time every year, I pick up the pace with my woodworking. Last weekend, for instance, I demonstrated bowl carving at a crafts fair here in town, using an axe, an adze, a saw, and numerous chisels and gouges, and at the end of each day I felt just as tired as if I'd spent the day lifting weights.
Speaking of weightlifting: in William T. Endicott's The Barton Mold, Greg Barton comments on the importance of using precise technique in the weight room: "I feel that if you start cheating, really jerking around a lot, there are two things that happen. One is you're starting to pull into play muscles other than the one you are targeting. Secondly, what happens when you get into the boat? Are you going to start jerking around there, too? Start pulling all over the place? I think some of that carries over. If you use strict technique in the weight room, you're thinking in that mode and it's a little easier to transfer that into the boat."
Just like paddling and weightlifting, woodworking is a technical endeavor. There's a right way to hold and move each tool to get the most from the tool's design in concert with the power of your body. Having taken courses taught by Carl Swensson, a staunch proponent of good technique, this summer and last summer, I've been thinking a lot about how I use my tools. It's plenty of exercise, and I hope it will carry over into my paddling in the next year.
Here in my offseason I'm paddling just a couple of times a week. But I'm not that worried about getting too far out of shape because I always seem to be doing something. It helps that my line of work doesn't have me sitting at a desk all day long. As a woodworker, I'm constantly moving logs and lumber around, and sawing, and planing, and carving, and chopping.
Different people do different things during the competitive offseason. Some people feel no need to take a break from paddling at all, and just train throughout the year. Others could use some sort of mental break from the boat, and seek out other physical activities: running, bike riding, skiing, basketball... there's really no wrong thing to do as long as you keep your body moving.
I'm trying to catch up on some whitewater paddling during this offseason--I took a trip several weeks ago and hope to take another in a couple of weeks. But around this time every year, I pick up the pace with my woodworking. Last weekend, for instance, I demonstrated bowl carving at a crafts fair here in town, using an axe, an adze, a saw, and numerous chisels and gouges, and at the end of each day I felt just as tired as if I'd spent the day lifting weights.
Speaking of weightlifting: in William T. Endicott's The Barton Mold, Greg Barton comments on the importance of using precise technique in the weight room: "I feel that if you start cheating, really jerking around a lot, there are two things that happen. One is you're starting to pull into play muscles other than the one you are targeting. Secondly, what happens when you get into the boat? Are you going to start jerking around there, too? Start pulling all over the place? I think some of that carries over. If you use strict technique in the weight room, you're thinking in that mode and it's a little easier to transfer that into the boat."
Just like paddling and weightlifting, woodworking is a technical endeavor. There's a right way to hold and move each tool to get the most from the tool's design in concert with the power of your body. Having taken courses taught by Carl Swensson, a staunch proponent of good technique, this summer and last summer, I've been thinking a lot about how I use my tools. It's plenty of exercise, and I hope it will carry over into my paddling in the next year.
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
The low water continues
I paddled my surf ski today for the first time in about three weeks. Part of that time off was spent paddling up at the Gauley, and part was spent doing stuff having nothing to do with paddling. Yes, I do have a life away from the sport.
The Mississippi River has been below zero on the Memphis gauge for as long a period as I can remember. It dipped below zero around the eighth of June, and about a week later it was at -1.7 feet for the Outdoors, Inc., Canoe and Kayak Race. It hovered up and down for the next few weeks before dropping precipitously in late August, bottoming out at -9.8 feet on September 1. After that it came up for a while, holding steady around -6 feet, but now it's dropping again and was at -9.3 feet when I paddled this morning. For now it doesn't appear that it will threaten the record low of -10.7 feet from July of 1988, however. The current forecast has it rising to around -8 feet by the end of the week.
When the water is this low, I have to proceed with caution as I paddle upriver along the Tennessee bank. The bank is lined with revetment, a matrix of concrete slabs placed there by the Corps of Engineers to prevent the river from eroding its banks, and some of this revetment has buckled after decades underwater, getting hammered by the river's currents. I lost my rudder once last year when it hit a piece of concrete that was sticking up near the surface of the water in an unlikely place.
The Mississippi River has been below zero on the Memphis gauge for as long a period as I can remember. It dipped below zero around the eighth of June, and about a week later it was at -1.7 feet for the Outdoors, Inc., Canoe and Kayak Race. It hovered up and down for the next few weeks before dropping precipitously in late August, bottoming out at -9.8 feet on September 1. After that it came up for a while, holding steady around -6 feet, but now it's dropping again and was at -9.3 feet when I paddled this morning. For now it doesn't appear that it will threaten the record low of -10.7 feet from July of 1988, however. The current forecast has it rising to around -8 feet by the end of the week.
When the water is this low, I have to proceed with caution as I paddle upriver along the Tennessee bank. The bank is lined with revetment, a matrix of concrete slabs placed there by the Corps of Engineers to prevent the river from eroding its banks, and some of this revetment has buckled after decades underwater, getting hammered by the river's currents. I lost my rudder once last year when it hit a piece of concrete that was sticking up near the surface of the water in an unlikely place.
Returning soon
I think the Internet problems at our house are fixed at last.
Soon, I hope to get the gears grinding back to life here at this blog. I've been busy with a lot of non-paddling activities lately, so that's part of the problem along with the broken connection. I thank all my loyal readers for their patience.
Here's one piece of good news: that kayaker I mentioned in my last post has resumed his journey down the Mississippi, destined for Costa Rica. The local TV news covered it here.
Soon, I hope to get the gears grinding back to life here at this blog. I've been busy with a lot of non-paddling activities lately, so that's part of the problem along with the broken connection. I thank all my loyal readers for their patience.
Here's one piece of good news: that kayaker I mentioned in my last post has resumed his journey down the Mississippi, destined for Costa Rica. The local TV news covered it here.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Please stand by
I apologize to those of you who have been looking here for new posts. We've been having a lengthy saga of Internet connectivity problems at our house and my online time has been limited to whenever I can drop by my mom's house and use her computer.
I'll have more to say about this when I get back online for real, but here in Memphis this week we've seen a sad story reach a happy ending. Best of luck to Mr. Stewart as he continues on to Costa Rica.
I'll have more to say about this when I get back online for real, but here in Memphis this week we've seen a sad story reach a happy ending. Best of luck to Mr. Stewart as he continues on to Costa Rica.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Monday photo feature
Because of technical difficulties (hint: I'm about to drop our wireless router on the floor and stomp on it), I was not able to post this week's "Monday photo feature" on Monday. I apologize to those of you who kept checking this site for it yesterday.
Here's another Gauley River photo in honor of my trip up there this past weekend. This one also was taken during my first trip there in 1994. From left to right, the paddlers are Jason Salomon, Richard Carson, Greg Raymond, and Tony Hickey. The location is Five Boat Hole on the lower Gauley. Good times.
Gauley-inspired thoughts
My visit to the Gauley River continued with runs of the upper section on Saturday and Sunday. I felt pretty good in my boat, nailing some moves and blowing some others, and while I did nothing to distinguish myself as a hero I worked the river hard and came away satisfied.
Here's an assortment of observations from my weekend:
There is value in meeting new people on the river. I went up there by myself (Martha was with me, of course, but she was not paddling), and had no idea whom I was going to paddle with. But I knew there would be other paddlers there during these annual fall releases, and as it turned out I paddled with a different group of nice, interesting people each day.
The initial introduction is the worst part of this process. I'm sort of a shy guy anyway, and walking up to a group of strangers and asking if I can tag along with them never fails to feel awkward. Some people are totally amenable ("Sure, man! The more the merrier!") while others are a little wary. The situation I hate most is being asked to recite a list of rivers I've run to prove my worthiness of inclusion.
But most of the time things work out just fine, and I think I get a lot of benefit from paddling with lots of different people and getting their insights on skills, techniques, methods of running a rapid, and so on. Planning a trip with a group of friends from your hometown provides more security as far as knowing what will happen throughout the weekend, but always paddling with the same people deprives a person of some great learning opportunities.
I don't recommend Battle Run Campground. Battle Run Campground is the Corps of Engineers facility on Summersville Lake near the dam and the upper Gauley putin. I had camped there on two or three previous visits to the Gauley, and considered it adequate, but I developed a dislike for the place on this trip. The bath house is sort of grungy, with hot water that was mostly, but not completely, hot. And no pets were allowed. In short, the Corps is happy to pour some concrete and lay in a little plumbing (that's what engineers are good at, after all), but it doesn't seem all that concerned about the quality of its guests' experiences.
If I return to the Gauley with Martha, we'll probably just stay in a motel. Martha's not a fan of camping in anything but dry, balmy weather. If I go by myself, I'll probably try to get into one of the campsites right next to the putin, which are more spartan than Battle Run, but free.
Central West Virginia is a beautiful but not particularly cosmopolitan area. My dining experience on past visits to the Gauley consisted mainly of fast food along the U.S. 19 bypass strip near Summersville. With my wife along this time, I hoped to find something nicer. We found a handful of nice restaurants in Fayetteville, as well as a rather good coffee shop in downtown Summersville (away from the bypass).
But finding good suppers was only part of our problem. While I was on the river each day, Martha needed something to do. And because it was raining much of the weekend, indoor activities were preferable. If we had been in New York City there would have been no problem at all, for art museums and funky boutique shops are just the thing for Martha. But in the greater Summersville-Fayetteville area such indoor culture is a little hard to come by. Martha spent the rainiest day holed up in the Nicholas County library, reading and using the Internet and staring out the window. We later found a cafe with wi-fi and a nice atmosphere, and she spent some time there.
When we finally got some nice sunny weather, she went down to Fayette Station, deep in the New River Gorge beneath the iconic bridge, and she enjoyed making some sketches down there. But the reality is that if you're not there for paddling or other rugged outdoor adventures, you run out of things to do fast in the wilds of West Virginia.
The upper Gauley has choices for a takeout. The first time I ran the upper Gauley, back in 1994, my group used the Panther Creek takeout, which involved carrying our boats up the most god-awful trail I have ever seen. My friends told me that taking out there saved us from paddling two miles of "flatwater" down to Woods Ferry, where one can drive a vehicle right down to the river. I remember thinking that I would rather paddle fifty miles of flatwater than carry my boat up an endless 50-degree incline.
By my next visit to the Gauley two or three years later, the American Whitewater Affiliation had negotiated access for paddlers to a road that reaches the river near the Panther Creek trail. During the busy weekends of the fall release season paddlers were required to park their cars up the mountain in the same parking area they had always used, but now they could pay a few bucks to throw their boats in the back of a Ryder truck and ride a shuttle van up to the parking area. This was much better than hiking that trail.
On this trip, the groups I hooked up with on Saturday and Sunday happened to be using the Woods Ferry takeout, so I would finally learn just how miserable this two miles of flatwater really was. What I found was that it isn't flatwater at all. The stretch consists of four or five sets of Class III rapids, a couple of which have very nice surfing waves. And the last rapid provides some excitement in the form of monster holes you must avoid. When I reached Woods Ferry, where the car was waiting a short walk from the river, I wondered why people have ever used the Panther Creek takeout, shuttle truck or no shuttle truck.
All told, I had a great time reacquainting myself with my whitewater boat. I'd like to incorporate more of this sort of thing into my offseasons from racing.
Here's an assortment of observations from my weekend:
There is value in meeting new people on the river. I went up there by myself (Martha was with me, of course, but she was not paddling), and had no idea whom I was going to paddle with. But I knew there would be other paddlers there during these annual fall releases, and as it turned out I paddled with a different group of nice, interesting people each day.
The initial introduction is the worst part of this process. I'm sort of a shy guy anyway, and walking up to a group of strangers and asking if I can tag along with them never fails to feel awkward. Some people are totally amenable ("Sure, man! The more the merrier!") while others are a little wary. The situation I hate most is being asked to recite a list of rivers I've run to prove my worthiness of inclusion.
But most of the time things work out just fine, and I think I get a lot of benefit from paddling with lots of different people and getting their insights on skills, techniques, methods of running a rapid, and so on. Planning a trip with a group of friends from your hometown provides more security as far as knowing what will happen throughout the weekend, but always paddling with the same people deprives a person of some great learning opportunities.
I don't recommend Battle Run Campground. Battle Run Campground is the Corps of Engineers facility on Summersville Lake near the dam and the upper Gauley putin. I had camped there on two or three previous visits to the Gauley, and considered it adequate, but I developed a dislike for the place on this trip. The bath house is sort of grungy, with hot water that was mostly, but not completely, hot. And no pets were allowed. In short, the Corps is happy to pour some concrete and lay in a little plumbing (that's what engineers are good at, after all), but it doesn't seem all that concerned about the quality of its guests' experiences.
If I return to the Gauley with Martha, we'll probably just stay in a motel. Martha's not a fan of camping in anything but dry, balmy weather. If I go by myself, I'll probably try to get into one of the campsites right next to the putin, which are more spartan than Battle Run, but free.
Central West Virginia is a beautiful but not particularly cosmopolitan area. My dining experience on past visits to the Gauley consisted mainly of fast food along the U.S. 19 bypass strip near Summersville. With my wife along this time, I hoped to find something nicer. We found a handful of nice restaurants in Fayetteville, as well as a rather good coffee shop in downtown Summersville (away from the bypass).
But finding good suppers was only part of our problem. While I was on the river each day, Martha needed something to do. And because it was raining much of the weekend, indoor activities were preferable. If we had been in New York City there would have been no problem at all, for art museums and funky boutique shops are just the thing for Martha. But in the greater Summersville-Fayetteville area such indoor culture is a little hard to come by. Martha spent the rainiest day holed up in the Nicholas County library, reading and using the Internet and staring out the window. We later found a cafe with wi-fi and a nice atmosphere, and she spent some time there.
When we finally got some nice sunny weather, she went down to Fayette Station, deep in the New River Gorge beneath the iconic bridge, and she enjoyed making some sketches down there. But the reality is that if you're not there for paddling or other rugged outdoor adventures, you run out of things to do fast in the wilds of West Virginia.
The upper Gauley has choices for a takeout. The first time I ran the upper Gauley, back in 1994, my group used the Panther Creek takeout, which involved carrying our boats up the most god-awful trail I have ever seen. My friends told me that taking out there saved us from paddling two miles of "flatwater" down to Woods Ferry, where one can drive a vehicle right down to the river. I remember thinking that I would rather paddle fifty miles of flatwater than carry my boat up an endless 50-degree incline.
By my next visit to the Gauley two or three years later, the American Whitewater Affiliation had negotiated access for paddlers to a road that reaches the river near the Panther Creek trail. During the busy weekends of the fall release season paddlers were required to park their cars up the mountain in the same parking area they had always used, but now they could pay a few bucks to throw their boats in the back of a Ryder truck and ride a shuttle van up to the parking area. This was much better than hiking that trail.
On this trip, the groups I hooked up with on Saturday and Sunday happened to be using the Woods Ferry takeout, so I would finally learn just how miserable this two miles of flatwater really was. What I found was that it isn't flatwater at all. The stretch consists of four or five sets of Class III rapids, a couple of which have very nice surfing waves. And the last rapid provides some excitement in the form of monster holes you must avoid. When I reached Woods Ferry, where the car was waiting a short walk from the river, I wondered why people have ever used the Panther Creek takeout, shuttle truck or no shuttle truck.
* * *
All told, I had a great time reacquainting myself with my whitewater boat. I'd like to incorporate more of this sort of thing into my offseasons from racing.
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