The Karnali River is the last major undammed river in Nepal. | Photos: Mikel Sarasola
Due to the increasing frequency and pressure of development and dams, some expedition kayakers are shifting their sights to rivers that won’t be runnable forever. This is the era of last descents.
Nepal’s Karnali is a river of both religious significance and kayaking legend, and one that has been under the shadow of proposed hydroelectric development for years. It falls from the sacred Mount Kailash in southwestern Tibet and flows south from the Tibetan plateau, cutting through the Himalayas before draining into India’s Sharda River, and eventually contributing to the mighty Ganges.
[ Plan your next kayak expedition with the Paddling Trip Guide ]
Since the upper section was first run in 1999 by Scott Lindgren, the Karnali has become a classic Nepali river for kayakers, known for its big volume, glacial-fed whitewater and expedition potential. As decades of rumors about a hydropower dam turned into diggers and dump trucks on the Karnali’s shores in 2018, Spanish kayaker Mikel Sarasola seized his chance to paddle it and capture Nepal’s last free-flowing river in a film.
The journey begins. | Photo: Mikel Sarasola
Joined by fellow Spaniard Aniol Serrasolses, American Todd Wells and Nepali kayaker Surjan Tamang, the team flew to the mountain-nestled town of Simikot. They hired porters to help transport boats and gear to the put-in 60 miles away, which included crossing a 14,700-foot snow-covered mountain pass.
“At that altitude, and with only four porters, it was just not enough for all the equipment we were carrying,” says Sarasola. “Luckily for us, we were able to use two yaks. It took us a bit to fit our boats on the yaks, but they helped a lot.”
Putting on the river at Hilsa, a small town on the border between Nepal and Tibet, the team started at 12,000 feet of elevation. They navigated the class IV to V sections of Shiva’s Gorge and Ganesh Gorge, which challenged the group with must-make moves and tough lines. “Big boulders, full of siphons and vertical walls is what we found,” says Sarasola. Surrounded by 20,000-foot-plus peaks, these sections were a highlight of the trip. During the nine-day, 250-mile self-supported mission, the team descended 11,000 feet.
Enlisting the help of yaks for the ‘yaks. | Photo: Mikel Sarasola
During the expedition, access roads were being built to start construction, and the massive hydroelectric project was never far from the paddlers’ thoughts. Three hydropower dams are planned for the Karnali River’s main stem, with another couple dozen proposed on tributary streams throughout the watershed. Since the expedition, construction progress has been slow and controversial, in part because of politics with neighboring India, the potential buyer of the generated power.
“We wanted to paddle the river to understand the resources and value of the Karnali watershed and to tell the story of the Karnali as it was,” says Sarasola. The Nepal River Conservation Trust Foundation supported the trip. Sarasola hopes his new film, The Tears Of Shiva, will show the world the beauty of the valley and what the hydropower project would destroy. “We know our film won’t make a change by itself, but it supports the many initiatives happening that can lead to a change for Nepal and its politics in terms of hydropower construction. This film was a chance to give a voice to the local people,” he says.
The film delivers a combination of kayaker POV of the whitewater and a yak’s-eye-view of the remote villages, harsh Himalayan landscapes and hardy locals. It also explores the development of hydropower in Nepal and the massive environmental and economic changes transforming the river system will bring. In January 2021, The Kathmandu Post reported that construction started on a tunnel to divert water to build a dam on the Karnali.
Mount Kailash is the source of the Karnali and neighboring Indus and is revered as one of the world’s holiest places by Buddhists and Hindus. In Hinduism, the mountain is recognized as the home of the deity Shiva.
“We felt like we were paddling on the tears of Shiva,” says Sarasola referring to the name of the film and emotions on the expedition. A last descent is not something to be celebrated, he says. With perspective and footage of what soon may be flooded, plugged, drained and diverted in a political chess game surrounding energy production, gratitude replaced celebration at the end of the trip, as the team said farewell to one of the best multi-day runs in the world.
This article was first published in Paddling Magazine Issue 63. Subscribe to Paddling Magazine’s print and digital editions here, or browse the digital archives here.
June is Canada’s National Indigenous History Month and Ojibway artist Patrick Hunter is marking this year’s event with the launch of a first time ever collection of artisan canoe paddles.
Patrick Hunter is a 2 Spirit Ojibway artist best known for his paintings in the Woodland Art style who is also making a name for himself in the corporate world through collaborations with RBC and BMO Banks, Ernst & Young, West Elm, Staples, eBay, CTV and the Chicago Blackhawks to name a few.
“There’s an Indigenous story of people, culture and rich history that I’m trying to share with Canadians through my art” says Hunter as inspiration for his work.
Hunter was approached by Canada Canoe Paddles, a Toronto based company that partners with iconic Canadian brands like the CBC, The Tragically Hip and the Hudson’s Bay Company to create artisanal canoe paddles for display in cottages, cabins, homes and offices. “It is commonly acknowledged that Canadians are born with a paddle in their hands” remarks company founder Mario Zeskoski and even our late Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau identified its special role when he noted “paddling a canoe is a source of enrichment and inner renewal.”
“Working with Patrick on an Indigenous paddle series seemed like the perfect way to showcase his work and provide Canadians with a unique artistic expression of the native lands we all call home” says Zeskoski. The canoe paddle became Hunter’s canvas upon which his art would would come to life.
The art collaboration will consist of four canoe paddle designs featuring Canadian themes done in Hunter’s Woodland Art style. “When I paint, I look into my subject matter to not only see its inner composition but also its spiritual side” says Hunter who was inspired by viewing original works of painter Norval Morrisseau in his hometown of Red Lake.
The paddles will be sold as a limited edition series individually numbered from 1 to 300. “Once they’re sold, they’re gone” says Zeskoski, “making them a special addition to anyone’s cottage or home whether you’re a paddler, outdoor enthusiast or someone who just appreciates the beauty of Canada’s wilderness as seen through a different lens”.
A portion of the proceeds will go to Hunter’s workshop initiative where he provides new generations the confidence they need to pick up a paintbrush. “Seeing how people react to what I create brings me the greatest joy and drives me to continue growing as an artist and a voice for Indigenous culture” says Hunter. “I look forward to making new acquaintances through my art as I continue on my creative journey”.
The Patrick Hunter Canoe Paddle collection is available now for pre-release sale at canadacanoepaddles.ca.
About Canada Canoe Paddles
Canada Canoe Paddles is a Toronto-based company (est. 2021) that was borne out of the desire to celebrate the canoe paddle’s storied past and the special place that it holds for Canadians. Whether going to camp as a kid, family outings in provincial parks or more ambitious portage trips, the trusty canoe paddle was always there. The association with other iconic Canadian brands and imagery was a way to elevate the canoe paddle from a means of propulsion to a decorative artform to adorn the walls of cottages, cabins, homes and offices.
“With the pandemic, people have not been able to travel, go camping or get to their out of city retreats so the canoe paddle represented a bit of a pick me up boost and visual reminder that outdoor adventure would soon make a return” says Canada Canoe Paddle founder Zeskoski.
Canada Canoe Paddles first collaboration in 2021 was with The Tragically Hip that comprised two paddle designs. A Limited Edition series consisting of 300 paddles sold out in just 34 hours. A Legacy paddle design is still available and continues to get picked up online by The Hip fans as well as Canadian music enthusiasts.
The partnership with Patrick Hunter is the latest Canada Canoe Paddle venture that utilizes the artist’s Indigenous drawings on a limited series collection. “We are grateful for the opportunity to play a role in Patrick’s artistic journey and help raise awareness of Indigenous culture in Canada” says Zeskoski.
Canada Canoe Paddles will continue looking to work with other brands, corporations and individuals for whom the noble canoe paddle is synonymous with ties to Canada, the outdoors and the indomitable spirit of adventure. To learn more, visit https://paddlepromotions.ca.
Patrick Hunter Bio
Patrick Hunter is a 2 Spirit Ojibway artist best known for his paintings in the Woodland Art style who is also making a name for himself in the corporate world through collaborations with RBC and BMO Banks, Ernst & Young, West Elm, Staples, eBay, CTV and the Chicago Blackhawks to name a few. “There’s an Indigenous story of people, culture and rich history that I’m trying to share with Canadians through my art” says Hunter as inspiration for his work.
Hunter’s introduction to the Woodland Art form began in his community of Red Lake, ON in high school. “Indigenous works were just so celebrated in my community and everywhere you looked. When I learned what the symbolism was, I felt more connected to my culture and that maybe it would be something I could one day be good at”.
In 2007, Hunter assisted in the early development of Shingwauk University in Sault Ste. Marie, ON, the first accredited University from a First Nations worldview. In 2008, Hunter attended Sault College where he flourished in the 3-year graphic design program. Hunter found his fit and embraced a two-term role as the President of the Indigenous Students Council which provided programming and advocacy for Indigenous students at the college.
Hunter made the move to Toronto in 2011 to begin a career as a graphic designer. Here he began to find his calling and fully commit to the kind of art he wanted to create. “I learned early on that designing the things I wanted to see brought to life gave me so much more joy than trying to interpret an employer’s point of view. When you design from the heart, that’s what resonates with people.”
To date, Patrick Hunter has had many collaborations in various forms with: eBay Canada, RBC & BMO Banks, EGALE Canada, STAPLES Promotional Products, Global Affairs Canada, the Prince’s Trust Canada, ROGERS, the Canadian Gay & Lesbian Chamber of Commerce, EY, Toronto City Hall, Village Media, Ontario Trillium Foundation, Harbourfront Centre, Tapestry Opera, SIGG North America, Evergreen Brickworks, West Elm, CTV’s “Cardinal”, CBC, the Metro Toronto Convention Centre, 5Rivers Publishing, Massey College, Bruce Power, Camp OOCH, Sault College, Algoma University, Red Lake Regional Heritage Centre, Timeraiser, Pure Gold Mining, Organization of Canadian Nuclear Industries, and the Red Lake Lions Club.
His works can be viewed in buildings around Toronto such as at CBC Headquarters, Toronto City Hall, TD & BMO banks, The Prince’s Trust Canada, Rogers Headquarters, and the Ontario Trillium Foundation. “I think it’s important for companies today to realize the land they are on was once another culture’s territory. Public acknowledgments of that fact are such a great first step towards being on the right side of history.”
Patrick currently resides in Toronto, but still makes regular journeys home to Red Lake to stay inspired, be with family and teach art classes to the next generation of Woodland artists.
Remember those foggy college years when you passed the sleepy hours between paddling trips in stuffy lecture halls? One of those days, a professor strode to the blackboard and clacked out two words: “Supply” and “Demand,” then spun with a flourish and launched into an hour-long lecture. The details may be fuzzy after all these years, but that doesn’t matter. All you really need to know was right there on the board: When supply is limited and demand abundant, prices will rise.
All these years later we’re getting a real-life laboratory in supply and demand, courtesy of a global supply chain knocked on its keister by Covid-19. With demand for boats far outstripping production capacity—and with manufacturers themselves paying through the nose for materials, labor and shipping—what do you suppose happens next?
Class?
That’s right. Price increases. Not just regular price increases, either. Mid-season increases.
Earlier this year, Riot, Big Adventure and Soul Waterman announced mid-season increases. Hobie raised prices after an ownership change in January. Confluence Outdoor, which earlier in the year added a transportation surcharge, in May announced a price bump effective June 1. Other brands that have so far resisted mid-season increases have told retailers to expect higher prices in 2022.
[ Find the best boats and gear of the year in the online Paddling Buyer’s Guide ]
In this wild pandemic year, price increases reverberate in different ways. With demand holding steady, consumers are willing to pay more for the boat they want—or in some cases, any boat at all. That’s made price increases a little easier to swallow as they make their way down the chain from manufacturers to dealers and finally consumers.
Demand is so high that many consumers have pre-ordered boats through specialty retailer. They’ve put down deposits to reserve a certain boat at a given price, or in some cases, they’ve paid in full months in advance. That leaves retailers in a quandary. They can either tell their pre-order customers that the price has gone up, or eat the difference. Most are eating.
“If I made a commitment to a customer to deliver the product at a price, and they paid me for it up front, I’m not going to go back to him and say you’ve got to pay me more,” says Todd Frank, Owner of The Trail Head and Trail Head River Sports in Missoula, Montana. The best he can do is gently let his customers know he’s absorbing the difference, and hope that translates into loyalty down the line.
Brian DeFouw, head buyer at Confluence Kayak and Ski in Denver, says the generally modest increases from most brands are tolerable, even overdue. “Boats are really a low margin item and they should have been going up in price for the last 10 years and they really have stayed pretty stagnant,” he says. “The margins have decreased, but the retails have stayed pretty consistent.”
Now that the invisible hand of the market has its fat thumb on the demand side of the scale, there’s finally some room for prices to increase—as long as manufacturers can come through with the supply. Not all of them have.
The price hike is a nuisance, but in this season of rampant demand and scarce supply, the delivery delays rankle more. And if the big guy across town is taking deliveries before you’ve received an ETA on your own order? Let DeFouw tell you how that feels.
“I find out REI has got all the product that we’ve been waiting for, and I’ve got customers canceling,” he told Paddling Business on May 19. “If you compare our order next to what REI takes, how could you not fulfill the little baby specialty orders next to the massive numbers they’re sending to the box stores?”
Late deliveries can impact a retailer’s bottom line, especially in this year of pre-ordered—and pre-paid—boat sales. Frank says he took pre-orders on four boats from one company that didn’t deliver on schedule, and then raised prices. “One couple decided to leave the money with us and hold their place in line, so I won’t make any money on that because the price is going to go up. We refunded the other two, and paid the credit card fees on the front end to take the deposit and then again when we refunded their money,” he said. “So we lost about five percent on the transaction.”
Manufacturers are dealing with supply-related frustrations of their own, says Sea Kayaks USA owner Dale Williams. As a longtime importer of U.K.-made NDK sea kayaks, he gets it from both sides. He commiserates with NDK owner Nigel Dennis about skyrocketing materials costs—resin is up 60 percent this year—and a supply chain ravaged by both COVID-19 and Brexit. When NDK announced a modest mid-season increase to compensate, Williams decided not to pass it on.
“My customers are dealers, and I made a price commitment to them that I’m going to honor,” he says, adding that he’s used to fluctuations—sometimes for better, others for worse—because he buys in pounds and sells in dollars.
Williams has already warned retailers that prices will increase in August when the preseason begins. That’s just simple economics.
“I think the manufacturers are having the heyday of their lives,” he said. “They’re in this golden age for manufacturers where they have more demand than they have supply. If you’re at capacity, you have to choose who is going to get the product based on what they’re willing to pay. So the price is going to go up.”
Don’t panic; we have bannock! | Photo: Cathie Archbould
To identify a hardened wilderness canoe tripper, I watch how someone paddles a J-stroke, lifts a canoe and whether they use a tump. But I can also rather reliably tell whether someone is a seasoned pro or a greenhorn newbie by merely noting what kind of bread they eat on trip.
Kevin Callan’s Basic Bannock
Ingredients:
½ cup white flour
½ cup whole wheat flour
1 tsp baking powder
3 tbsp powdered milk
½ tsp salt
Directions:
Mix all dry ingredients and add water slowly until dough is slightly sticky. Separate into three to four patties and fry in an oiled frying pan over moderate heat until both sides are golden brown.
Bagels are popular amongst weekend warriors, tortillas are for graduates of weeklong trips—but when a canoeist regularly makes bannock, well, you’re pretty much guaranteed they’ve spent quality time in the bush.
Making a morning batch of bannock is common on my trips. I love watching a loaf’s golden-brown top take shape, and the glorious sweet smell when I hand out the first steaming chunk is pure bliss—even if it does contain a few dead mosquitoes. Store-bought bread becomes moldy or stale by day five or six. Made daily, bannock can keep you stocked with fresh bread for a whole summer.
I spice things up now and then—cajun bannock, cinnamon bannock, lemon and dill bannock, s’more bannock—but the main ingredients remain the same. Flour, baking powder, powdered milk and salt. It’s dense when baked and fluffy when fried.
Modern-day trippers love this no-fuss recipe for the same reason it’s been a staple of wilderness wanderers for centuries. It’s stable, quick and easy to make. Bannock is also a hefty source of carbohydrates. A fist-sized serving offers roughly 310 calories and is adaptable to any mealtime. Smother in jam for breakfast, layer with hard cheese for lunch, or dip in a bowl of hot stew for dinner. Yum.
Most Indigenous nations across North America have some traditional version of bannock. The Inuit call it palauga, it’s luskinikn to the Mi’kmaq, while the Ojibway nation calls it ba’wezhiganag. Before European contact, unleavened bannock was made from the starches derived from ground maize, roots and bulbs, and lichens and mosses. It was cooked on flat rocks over the fire, twisted around a green stick or heated in cooking pits.
It’s believed Scottish fur traders introduced modern bannock to North America during the 18th and 19th centuries. Called bannuch, Gaelic for morsel, it was first made of barley and oats; wheat flour was later introduced. Bannock soon became a staple for trappers, prospectors, voyageurs, and First Nations groups. Today, gourmet bannock baking is big business and a staple at many Indigenous-owned restaurants.
Don’t panic; we have bannock! | Photo: Cathie Archbould
The simple four ingredient recipe has remained much the same for wilderness wanderers, however. When made by canoe tripping enthusiasts traipsing from lake to lake for weeks on end, it’s now most often fried in a cast-iron skillet, baked in a reflector oven or wrapped around a green stick the old-fashioned way.
[ Paddling Buyer’s Guide: View all camp kitchen and cooking accessories ]
Just remember, never slice a piece for your fellow campers. You can’t cut bannock; that’s bad luck. Instead, tear off chunks and hand them around, steaming hot, the way it’s always been done.
This article was first published in Paddling Magazine Issue 63. Subscribe to Paddling Magazine’s print and digital editions here, or browse the digital archives here.
Kevin Callan is the author of 18 books, including the bestselling The Happy Camperand his popular paddling guides.
Don’t panic; we have bannock! | Photo: Cathie Archbould
As proven by the undying popularity of horror movies, we humans often get an odd thrill out of watching terrifying events—it’s how we’re wired. Especially when those incidents are relatable and close-to-home.
These videos also serve as a learning opportunity. Unlike Hollywood horror, the dangers of water are real. Watching rescues allows us the chance to stop and reevaluate our own safety tool kit. Do we have appropriate training and equipment? Would we have done anything differently? How could that situation have been avoided?
Did we miss any great videos? Leave a comment below or send us a message on Instagram or Facebook.
8. Canoe Pinned Sideways With Father And Son Inside
An experienced canoeist was out tandem paddling with his nine-year-old son on a local class 2 section of river, when things took a sudden unexpected turn. Quite literally. Watch the video »
7. Kayaker Trapped In A Strainer On The Cheoah River
A kayaker became trapped in a strainer (a dangerous fallen or low hanging tree) and held on for survival, while her safety team got to work. Watch the video »
6. Capsized Kayaker Is Rescued From Okanagan Lake
A music teacher from B.C. noticed a fellow kayaker had capsized and become stranded. As she approached him, she learned he was close to hypothermic. What happened next was paramount to his survival. Watch the video »
5. Canoe Pin Rescue On Remote River
When two tandem canoeists entered one of the Petewawa River’s more challenging rapids, they didn’t expect they would be stuck in that same rapid for three hours. Watch the video »
4. Raft Accidentally Plunges Over Waterfall
The inexperienced rafters were using a rented raft, missed a turn and passed several other signs warning them not to proceed. Watch the video »
3. Dane Jackson Rescues A Kayaker Stuck In A Cave
Dane Jackson discovered a kayaker stuck in a cave behind a powerful waterfall. What he did next, well, it certainly wasn’t by-the-book. We can guarantee you’ve not seen a rescue like this one before. Watch the video »
2. Terrifying Kayaker Pin At Three Amigos
This paddler was caught in an unlikely undercut that became a hazard at low water. Her team managed to extract her in 3.5 minutes. Read the full incident report on American Whitewater here. Watch the video »
1. Kayaker Saved After Swimming Over A 60-Foot Waterfall
Two experienced kayakers set out to paddle a 20-foot waterfall that leads into a 60-foot waterfall. One kayaker swam on the first drop and found himself clinging to a wall in the water, just above the second massive waterfall. In this tense rescue, there was no room for error. Watch the video »
Each spring, I realize how fast time scrolls by when an outfitter friend recruits me to instruct his sea kayak guides’ training course on Lake Superior. I inevitably assume the role of an old codger. How things have changed since my glory days.
When I started guiding 20 years ago, adventure tourism was booming. My favorite recollections portray the nascent industry as fly-by-night. I was still a teenager, leading greenhorn adults on wilderness trips without any emergency communication technology. On sea kayak trips, if you raided the gear room early, you’d score an oversized, non-waterproof VHF marine radio with a sketchy battery and limited range. The plan if things went sideways was implicit: deal with it on your own.
I was longing for those simpler days last winter when a friend and I set off on a 10-day snowshoe and toboggan trip on the frozen waterways of canoe country, just as the world descended into the chaos of the pandemic. Each evening my partner fired up his InReach satellite communicator and the messages rolled in from his girlfriend: lockdowns and border closures, numbers of infections and professional sports seasons abruptly canceled—illusions of an apocalypse so far removed from the reality of our existence.
Disconnect to reconnect. | Photo: JP Danko
During the days, my mind wandered and I was easily distracted—worrying about the portents of the diminishing number of jet contrails in the bluebird sky rather than celebrating the glorious sunshine and certain arrival of spring. I came home thinking I was done with satellite communicators. How’s that for assuming responsibility for my actions?
Globalstar’s SPOT holds the distinction of being the first pocket-sized consumer satellite communication device. Previously, some wilderness adventurers carried personal locator beacons, all-or-nothing emergency locators like those used in aircraft. The first-generation SPOT came on the market in 2007 and allowed users to send generic “I’m OK” messages to a circle of friends or summon rescue with an SOS button.
InReach launched in 2011, adding two-way communication technology for actual conversations and the ability to make off-grid updates to social media feeds. Garmin eventually took over the brand. Both devices direct distress calls to an international dispatch center that in turn calls upon regional rescue professions to respond; the latest technology verifies the nature of the incident and affords a short, second-chance window should outdoor enthusiasts wish to call the rescue off. As of last fall, InReach and SPOT devices were responsible for more than 12,000 rescues over 14 years. Many, no doubt, were legitimate life-threatening emergencies. But the stat makes me wonder: how many people died in misadventures before the advent of these devices?
[ Browse all emergency signalling devices in the Paddling Buyer’s Guide ]
Like anti-lock brakes or “indestructible” plastic whitewater canoes, satellite communicators and navigation apps impart peace of mind—and, sometimes, a false sense of security.
Last October, an Indiana man ventured into Minnesota’s Boundary Waters Canoe Area on a solo canoe trip—his first visit to the million-acre wilderness area—renting an InReach device from a local outfitter for $10 per day. The 34-year-old was less than 24 hours into a weeklong trip when an early blast of winter exposed his startling degree of unpreparedness. He issued a distress message and search and rescue professionals arrived that night, pushing through a snowstorm and freezing temperatures, to extract him from the wilderness. In an interview, the paddler blamed his hypothermia on a “poor choice of gloves.” He added, “It got so cold, my cellphone shut down on me.”
Of such a scenario, a friend of mine would say, “Stupid oughta hurt.”
To me, that sounds harsh, but it speaks to a critical opportunity lost. When experienced responsibly, so-called “natural consequences”—like being cold, wet, bug-bitten and exhausted—make the outdoors a great place to learn humility. However, a society that’s become more accustomed to instantly gleaning information from YouTube and Google emphasizes the fact expertise and good judgment take time to develop. Pressing SOS offloads the consequences of one’s choices and actions on someone else.
Pressing SOS offloads the consequences of one’s choices and actions on someone else.
Such self-reliance—ironically, a YouTube catchphrase—is overshadowed in marketing campaigns targeting our natural fear of injury and death.
In a press release celebrating InReach’s 5,000th rescue last fall, a Garmin representative said, “If anything happens…you’re still connected to emergency responders, friends and family.”
Admittedly, I’m also terrified of dying alone, but this sort of connection, I’ve come to realize, is exactly what I set off into the wilderness to escape.
Three summers ago, my partner and I set off on our longest paddling trip yet: A 56-day journey in subarctic Quebec’s Ungava Peninsula. I pride myself in traveling self-supported; we packed all our provisions for the entire trip. Yet, I couldn’t help but feel as though we were tethered to society by our InReach device. At times, I took joy in composing pithy 160-character messages to update our Facebook page. More often, I felt frustrated by endless weather forecasts and friendly advice issued by relatives in the outside world—besides wrestling with my usual impatience with technology: slow Bluetooth connections and half-typed messages, mysteriously deleted.
After six weeks of hard travel, we crossed the treeline where the winds became relentless. I realized technology was staunching our senses as we stared at the screen expectantly, seeking an external source of hope as our tent billowed around us. The feeling of dependence reminded me of early environmentalist Howard Zahniser, who drafted the U.S. Wilderness Act in the early 1960s. To experience wild places, Zahniser wrote, “is to know profound humility, to recognize one’s littleness, to sense dependence and interdependence, indebtedness, and responsibility.” I grieve this loss.
Sometimes, I wonder how I would’ve responded two decades ago had a client suffered a heart attack, broken leg, appendicitis or any number of accidents on one of my early guided trips. What made it acceptable back then to travel without reliable communications? Clearly, the baseline has shifted.
Indirectly, I pose this question to the latest cohort of wilderness professionals when we discuss various accident scenarios in the kayak guides course. Their default solution to what once would’ve been the hardest problem is simple: Hit SOS.
This article was first published in Paddling Magazine Issue 63. Subscribe to Paddling Magazine’s print and digital editions here, or browse the digital archives here.
Conor Mihell is a sea kayak guide, award-winning travel journalist and, once upon a time, was a Rapid Media intern.
Two tandem open-boat canoeists were out for a paddle on the Petawawa River in Ontario’s Algonquin Park, when they ran into trouble.
Gary Ataman and Iori Miller entered one of the more challenging rapids on the river—named “Crooked Chute”—when, moments later, their canoe became pinned and wrapped on a semi-submerged rock.
In the video review of the events, the commentator states that the plan had been to sneak past the big wave trains on the right side of the river. The “uh oh” we hear from the stern paddler, as the paddlers diverge off their intended course and towards the rock, suggests things didn’t go to plan.
Moments later, both paddlers are in the water, desperately hanging on to the canoe as it inevitably fills with water and becomes further stuck against the rock. “Pull, pull!” the rear paddler shouts to the other, nearest the river bank.
Once the bow paddler has his footing on the river bank, he desperately pulls the rope attached to the front of the canoe in an effort to free the boat. “It’s buckling, let’s let go” the other paddler shouts, as they realize they need to stop and reassess.
[ Paddling Buyer’s Guide: See all Canoes ]
The commentator then proceeds to explain how they managed to get the canoe out of the water using their pin kit to conduct a “Z Drag” to recover the canoe. Despite a successful rescue attempt (surprisingly, the boat had minimal damage and the folds popped straight back out), it took the crew over three and a half hours to recover the canoe.
The video, produced by the Wilderness Canoe Association, highlights the importance of being prepared for the worst-case scenario. Make sure to carry the appropriate safety gear and equipment, and have adequate knowledge of the area, and the appropriate skill set for the class of water you are accessing.
You’ll need a few years of practice—or more like a lifetime—to catch waves like Olympic hopeful Catherine Bruhwiler. | Photo: Zak Cross
Paddle in hand and with a bigger board under your feet, SUP surfing looks a little different than prone surfing. At its core, the wave riding is the same. On your paddleboard, you can still enjoy the feeling of flying effortlessly, riding the energy of the swell as you lean from rail to rail and enjoy the ride. Once you’ve mastered the basics of SUPing, here’s what you need to know to start shredding waves.
Choosing a SUP for surfing
Most SUP surfboards feature a narrow tail and lots of rocker. Beginners should choose a board size at least 10 liters bigger than the board you paddle in flatwater—waves, swell and chop require larger volume for stability. Start with a board in the 9.5- to 11-foot range in length. Boards less than 30 inches wide will feel unstable for beginners.
The bigger the board, the more stable and forgiving it will be. Your positioning on the board and the wave doesn’t need to be as exact, and it’ll allow you to catch waves more easily with less self-generated speed. The trade-off with a bigger board is less maneuverability. With increased skill and wave experience, paddlers can move to smaller boards to ride a wave at its maximum fun capacity.
Renting SUP surfboards from your local shop allows you to experiment with different models, brands, shapes, constructions and sizes to match your current abilities and the daily conditions until you are ready to own a small quiver of boards. There is no one magic board that works for all situations, as changing conditions and skill level dictate different shapes and sizes of appropriate boards.
Surfing with an inflatable
Inflatable SUPs will eventually reach their limit in high-performance surfing, but that’s less of a concern for beginners. When surfing an inflatable, opt for a surf-specific model and pump to maximum PSI. Inflatables tend to be limited to catching waves and surfing a straight line, as such thick rails make it harder to dig into the side of the wave to maneuver the board sharply.
Sizing your paddle
SUP surfers generally use paddles with smaller blades than touring blades for less resistance and higher cadence strokes.
When sizing your paddle for SUP surfing, a rough guide is a paddle approximately matching your height, but ultimately it comes down to personal preference and board size. Your surf paddle will be slightly shorter than your touring paddle to compensate for your body bending and compressing to balance in chop and swell, which brings you closer to the water.
An excellent investment for newbies is buying a high-quality, adjustable or custom-fitted fixed paddle. Having your own paddle allows you to easily travel and be comfortable no matter what board you are riding.
What to wear
Expect to spend a lot of time in the water when you’re learning to SUP surf. To stay nimble, avoid bulky drysuits. Surfing wetsuits are made for maximum mobility and comfort and are the only attire I recommend. For winter surfing in the Great Lakes region and Canadian coasts, wear a hooded wetsuit with a 5/4 or 6/5 thickness rating. For summer surfing, a shortie in a 3/2 or 4/3 is usually sufficient. You can dress down one grade of thickness from what a prone surfer would wear as you won’t spend as much time in the water.
Surf booties and gloves are necessary for the colder months. A winter kayaking glove is better for grasping the paddle shaft, as opposed to bulky surfing gloves.
You’ll also need a leash. Make sure it’s rated for surfing big boards, attached properly to both your board and ankle, and also check for length—the general rule is your leash should be at least the length of your board. Never use coiled leashes, as they’ll cause the board to bounce back at you.
You’ll need a few years of practice—or more like a lifetime—to catch waves like Olympic hopeful Catherine Bruhwiler. | Photo: Zak Cross
Is SUP surfing easier than prone surfing?
Not exactly. When learning to prone surf, you are laying down and catching whitewash waves. This is easy to learn in an afternoon lesson, and broken waves are easier to spot and catch. Surfers also don’t have to maintain balance as they paddle for waves and they often learn where they can stand in the water and easily position their boards.
When learning to catch waves on a SUP, you’ll stand on a board in deeper water and need to balance, gain speed, turn the board and position yourself in the unbroken swell, which is harder to identify. Your foot position also needs to change from the regular SUP square stance to a surf stance at the right time.
Wannabe SUP surfers will benefit from being able to comfortably perform advanced paddling maneuvers like pivot turns and different foot stances before trying to surf. Fortunately, the skills needed to paddle out and catch waves and the foot positioning for riding waves can all be practiced and honed while paddling flatwater.
Surf safety considerations
Traditional surfers don’t wear PFDs. When leashed to your board, you have a floating device tied to your body and have the ability to hang on if needed. Leashes and boards do break, however. Nothing substitutes strong swimming ability and ocean knowledge.
Because SUPS are larger, less responsive and less maneuverable than prone boards, it’s hazardous to SUP surf in crowds. A 10-foot-long board and 10-foot-long leash create a 20-foot radius that you must keep clear. Your board should never come close to another surfer and you carry the responsibility to keep others safe.
Learning how to navigate the lineup, understanding surf etiquette and wiping out safely are essential skills to master before heading out into waves. Take a lesson or ask an experienced friend before you paddle out. And remember to keep your head up and look both ways to avoid collisions.
Finding the best SUP surfing spots
Finding waves is easier than you think. Coasts and big lakes have waves and—lucky for beginners—you won’t need waves packing much of a punch.
Start in waves just a foot or two tall. Beach breaks with sand bottoms and lots of space, with few crowds, are perfect.
The local SUP or surf shops will be happy to point you in the right direction and warn you of hidden dangers like submerged rocks, shallow breaks or rebar in the water. Online communities spring up around surf hotspots, with paddlers sharing forecasts and meetup plans.
To get out past breaking waves, paddlers often lay prone and hand paddle out. | Photo: Zak Cross
How to SUP surf
Confident technical flatwater paddling ability is the ticket to catching waves on a SUP. If you’ve never tried any kind of surfing, try surfing on a regular board, boogie board or just playing in the waves first. Detailed instruction could fill this entire magazine so here are a couple tips in broad strokes to keep in mind and help you catch your first waves. Above all—taking lessons will speed your progress, refine technique and ensure your safety.
1
To get out past the breaking waves, beginners often find it’s easier to paddle out on their knees or lay prone and hand paddle while the paddle rests under their chest and the handle sticks out over the nose.
2
Once past the breaking waves, standing up on the board in the swell may take patience and perseverance. Remember to bend your knees and keep your feet staggered in a hybrid stance to help stay balanced. Don’t get discouraged if you spend a lot of time in the water.
3
Choose a wave, make sure your path is clear of others, paddle to gain momentum and turn the board towards the beach at the proper place on the wave in your surf stance. Paddle to match the speed of the wave to catch it.
4
Settle into the face of the wave and enjoy the ride—this is the easy part. Use your paddle to amplify your turns by leaning into your paddle when maneuvering, but don’t use it to brace or balance you. When starting out, it helps to have your paddle on the wave side of your body.
5
Enjoy a cold beer on shore and a long nap.
Only graduate to a smaller board once catching waves is easy. | Photo: Zak Cross
Remember to bend your knees and keep your feet staggered in a hybrid stance to help stay balanced. | Photo: Ryan Osman
The most common difficulty new-to-surfing paddleboarders run into is not catching the wave. Usually, this is because new surfers are too far back on their boards. Just like paddling in the flatwater, when paddling for a wave, body weight needs to be perfectly distributed so the board is flat in the water. If you are too far back, the board’s nose will come out of the water and its sinking tail will cause you to slow down and not let the board plane. If you are too far forward, you will nosedive. If you are too far out to sea, past the place where the waves are breaking, you will also have trouble catching a wave.
A smaller SUP will be more maneuverable when doing turns, but paddling out and catching waves will be more challenging. Work on your balance and paddling skills, gain experience and practice until wave catching is easy and natural. Then graduate to a smaller board.
Catherine Bruhwiler is a lifelong Tofino, British Columbia local, and one of Canada’s top surfers. She teaches paddleboarding and surfing full time through her beachfront business Tofino Paddle Surf.
This article was first published in Paddling Magazine Issue 63. Subscribe to Paddling Magazine’s print and digital editions here, or browse the digital archives here.
You’ll need a few years of practice—or more like a lifetime—to catch waves like Olympic hopeful Catherine Bruhwiler. | Feature photo: Zak Cross
Finding your solemate is no easy task. | Photo: Mike Last
Much fuss is made by hikers about the demands placed on their feet, while canoeists tend to focus more on their boats. But before canoeists paddle, we walk, often carrying heavy and challenging loads. Canoe trippers are in and out of the water, traipsing through mud and swamp, over rocks and the tooth-sharp spears of beaver dams. There’s no greater test to a good pair of water shoes than a canoe trip, yet many of us treat footwear as an afterthought. We cavalierly don a pair of cheap sandals or castoff sneakers and then complain we have no good options for our feet.
I’ve paddled and portaged in just about everything from rash-inducing sandals to clammy drysuit booties and often returned home with fantasies of designing the perfect tripping shoes—something like a mukluk with a space-age waterproof-breathable shell and a supple high-friction sole.
Informed by a century of outdoor literature and the opinions of more experienced paddlers, I’m now sure the optimal canoe trip footwear is not found in a single pair of togs or anything newfangled or futuristic, but in a blend of good judgment and the right mix of already-available options.
Finding your solemate is no easy task. | Feature photo: Mike Last
First considerations
Your style
What sort of tripper are you? Fastidious and careful or full-steam-ahead and damn the consequences? The latter is the faster way to travel but always equals wet feet. A prima donna attitude can keep your feet dry under many circumstances, to the detriment of your canoe’s finish and the sanity of your companions. It’s also potentially dangerous—paddlers trying to keep their toes dry are more likely to wipe-out at landings and on the trail.
Your body
Recommendations for popular canoeing footwear usually come with some version of the late Bill Mason’s caveat about moccasins: “It’s true there is no ankle support, but I’ve worn them for years, and I have never twisted my ankle.” Your mileage may vary.
Your canoe
Paddlers willing to ram their boat full speed into shore can likely keep their feet dry most of the time—until it rains or they have to portage through a bog. Paddlers of composite or wood canoes tend to be pickier about footwear because their feet absorb the wear and tear as they leap into deeper water to protect their hulls. It’s all about priorities.
Waterproofness
This unicorn-like feature comes with a tradeoff. Like rain gear, that which keeps water out also keeps it in. For summer weather, most people opt for something quick-dry over waterproof.
Temperature
Weather changes everything. Sandals and water shoes are popular, but they emphasize drainage and quick-drying, making them limited mostly to summer tripping. The colder the temperature, the warmer and more waterproof your footwear must be.
Traction
All canoe trippers prize the ability to grip slick rocks. High-traction rubber with a tread is essential.
Terrain
On a trip without portages or in a well-traveled area with easy trails, you can get away with almost anything. The more rugged the trip, the sturdier the footwear required.
If you normally end up with your feet in the water, quick-drying water shoes might be best for you. | Photo: Destination Ontario
The options
Sandals
The ultimate in quick-drying footwear are watersports sandals. For years I stubbornly wore nothing else, bearing the pain of the odd stick between my toes in exchange for the freewheeling pleasure of picking my way gingerly along the gnarliest portages carrying 100 pounds like an Andean porter in glorified huaraches. I got away with it because I was on easy routes.
The most reliable sandals are the simplest, with the least padding to soak up water and plastic buckles instead of Velcro. However, with the wisdom of age, I’ve given up on sandals as primary footwear. Constant wetting and drying are harder on my skin, causing cracks and rashes.
My friend Conor Mihell, who specializes in multi-week expeditions on northern Quebec’s Ungava Peninsula, agrees. “I won’t do sandals anymore because I don’t like my toes sticking out.” He reserves sandals only for backup. “The theory is that if I were to lose a shoe, I could wear them.” Crocs are like camp slippers—useful as a pair of nearly weightless camp shoes but hardly a stand-in for portaging.
Moccasins
I have never canoe tripped with moccasins or met anyone who does, but they have an illustrious history of proponents. In Camping and Woodcraft, first published in 1917 (my copy is from its 27th printing in 1971), outdoor writer Horace Kephart waxes for two pages about this “most rational of all” foot coverings.
Seventy years later, legendary canoeist Bill Mason wrote in Song of the Paddle that a pair of smoke-tanned moosehide moccasins, paired with a removable rubber covering (see overshoes) is “the only kind of footwear that has kept my feet dry, warm and comfortable in all weather and canoeing conditions, excluding upsets or having to jump overboard when landing.”
On Etsy, I found a pair looking exactly like the moosehide moccasin wraps in Mason’s book. Tempting for the campsite, but I can’t imagine rugged portaging in them.
Overshoes
Curiously, Mason argued for the benefits of rubber overshoes, what he calls “moccasin rubbers,” which appear by all evidence to be the exact rubber galoshes my father used to pull over his dress shoes before going to work in the wintertime back in the 1970s.
For truly wet weather, Mason said he carried a pair of mid-high rubber overshoes to slip over his moccasins. Despite Mason’s popularity, I’ve never seen anyone adopt this look. I can’t imagine how these would ever survive a muddy portage, nor am I keen on rocking my dad’s style.
Instead, I ordered myself a pair of outdoorsy looking Neos Villager Mid Overshoes. For about $100, they look promisingly like the high-tech mukluks of my dreams while fulfilling the basic function of Mason’s “rubbers,” transforming my Etsy moccasins or whatever other footwear I bring along into a pair of comfortable, waterproof boots, useful at least for rainy days around the campsite. I’m wearing them as I write this. My 11-year-old daughter took one look and said, “Those are so stupid!” But I may have the last laugh on our next rainy canoe trip.
Wet or dry, wool socks will keep your feet warm. | Photo: Teemu R/Pexels
Socks
For a while, my answer to dry feet was not the overshoe but Gore-Tex socks, paired with any of my other footwear and dry wool socks to keep my feet toasty. However, when stuffed in a wet shoe for many hours, Gore-Tex is no drier or more breathable than rubber boots, even without the pinhole leaks that inevitably crop up over time.
Neoprene socks are far cheaper and warmer but do take a long time to dry out.
Wool socks are the standard and warm either dry or wet. They’re comfortable, provide padding, resist odor, conceal dirt and are reasonably fast drying. Bring multiple pairs and never look back.
Rubber boots
Too bulky to carry for the times they’re useful. “Once, I took rubber boots on a six-week trip,” says Tim Bankerd, a Maine-based canoeist who trips nearly 100 days a year. “They only have one purpose, and that’s in the water. Anytime out of the water, they’re miserably hot and not effective for portaging.”
Neoprene booties
Neoprene river boots are popular among sea kayakers and whitewater paddlers, good for shorter aggressive pursuits in icy water. Some trippers find them impractical for longer trips because they take a long time to dry out and most lack ankle support. I’ve also tried various high-top neoprene boots claiming to be waterproof. These are appealing in theory but share the disadvantages of rubber boots, above.
L.L. Bean Boots
I aspire to be the kind of person who has dryish feet always, like veteran tripper Bankerd, who could have an honorary doctorate in the L.L. Bean Boot. This traditional Maine hunting boot with a rubber bottom and sealed leather upper is the footwear choice of many venerable summer camps and canoe tripping traditionalists, author Hap Wilson among them.
The argument is these offer ankle support and are waterproof if you look after them (and don’t step into water deeper than the cuff), plus they’re unlined so they can dry quickly. Bankerd’s tips include: Order one to one-and-a-half sizes down, get spare insoles to swap out if you get a soaker, find a cobbler to reinforce the stitching if you can, treat them fastidiously with Sno-Seal, replace the laces with Kevlar ones, and send them back for free replacement if they wear out. And since they became trendy on college campuses, you can sometimes get good money for your old ones on eBay.
Hiking boots offer ankle support on tough portages and are often waterproof. | Photo: Pexels
Runners and hikers
A good compromise for those who can’t be bothered to try to keep their feet dry is to find a sturdy, dependable, comfortable shoe that’s not too heavy and accept it’s going to get soaking wet. Pair with something dry to change into in camp.
In the past, I would wear light hikers, which were just glorified running shoes, comfortable for portaging, but, like many running shoes, had a nasty tendency to come unglued after being wet for days on end. Lately, I’ve switched to wearing my old trail runners. They’re reasonably lightweight and quick-drying but have a stiffer sole, bigger tread and protect the feet better than regular sneakers thanks to plastic-reinforced arches and toe caps.
Water shoes
Specialized sneakers designed to be worn in and around water emphasize durability when wet, drainage, dry time and traction. Mihell is such a fan of the now-discontinued Five Ten Water Tennie that he has secured a multi-year supply: two that he rotates between trips and two brand new pairs on reserve. When his supply runs out, he says he’d go with something like the Astral Rassler.
“The other option I would look into is a pair of approach shoes from a climbing shoe company—something with really sticky rubber.”
A drysuit or waterproof wading pants with built-in socks are an excellent solution to keep feet dry and warm for cool weather. “That’s what I used in Hudson Bay and for dragging upriver on the Ungava Plateau,” says Mihell, referring to a recent 53-day trip with Kokatat Gore-Tex paddling pants. You can wear your socks inside and your regular tripping shoes over top.
There’s no one “best shoe for canoe trips”—it all depends on your needs. | Photo: Destination Ontario
Everybody swears by wool socks. Beyond that, the ultimate footwear depends on your route and lies somewhere among these options—perhaps in a combination of all of them. Indeed, the ultimate footwear may just be more footwear. So, look for me in old runners, sandals or moccasins, a drysuit and my giant Neos Overboots. With an extra canoe pack dedicated to footwear, I’ll be either the laughingstock or the envy of my next family canoe trip—likely both. But I know my feet will be happy.
This article was first published in Paddling Magazine Issue 63. Subscribe to Paddling Magazine’s print and digital editions here, or browse the digital archives here.
Finding your solemate is no easy task. | Feature photo: Mike Last
When you love paddling, it influences practically everything you do. So it’s no surprise artists who paddle often incorporate paddling into their artwork, from painting to woodworking to jewelry-making.
We know the paddling community is full of talented folks, so we asked them to tell us about the ways in which paddling has influenced their art. As expected, they more than delivered and we’re excited to showcase their kayak and canoe art here — some that you can hang on your wall, wear, stick on your fridge or place on your desk.
You’ll find examples of their handiwork below. Be sure to let us know how paddling has inspired the way you create art in the comments.
Photo: Taylor Farquhar
Taylor Farquhar
Taylor is an artist and outdoor educator based out of Palmer Rapids, Ontario, near the headquarters of the Paddling Magazine office. “Whitewater paddling brought me to the area and has inspired my artwork,” she says. Taylor works in pyrography and watercolor painting. | @theartofoutside
Photo: Katherine Nash
Katherine Nash
“Whitewater has been my favorite part of my life so far, so during quarantine this year I decided to start making pieces related to the thing I love most. Many of these were in my first show this past September and are specific to places I’ve kayaked.” | etsy.com/shop/KnashGlass
Photo: Heather Boyd
Heather Boyd
“I have been making wire art and jewelry for 30 years. My husband and I create custom jewelry and wedding cake toppers. Designs are made freehand with a single continuous piece of aluminum wire.” | heatherboydwire.com
Photo: Michelle Hambourg
Michelle Hambourg
“I always have smaller scraps of wood left over from my larger projects. To make the most of my materials, I like to turn some of those scraps into fun fridge magnets. These are laser cut and engraved on maple plywood and measure 1.5 inches in diameter.” | sparkedupstudio.etsy.com
Photo: Candice Caldwell Day
Candice Caldwell Day
“I am an artist, graphic designer, painter, jeweler and crafter. I have been a paddler for more than 25 years and began my journey slalom racing with the Nantahala Racing Club and USA Junior Whitewater Slalom Team in the late 90s.” | candicecaldwellday.etsy.com
An Idaho river and fly fishing guide who makes original woodblock prints inspired by the wild rivers she runs. Hannah lives on the banks of the Salmon River with her husband and 6-year-old twins. | hbsartworks.com
Photo: Valerie Thai
Valerie Thai
“All our jewelry is designed in-house and assembled in our Vancouver, B.C. studio,” says Cabin + Cub founder, Valerie. Since 2006, she’s been making laser-cut wood accessories inspired by wilderness and wildlife, like these earrings for canoeists. | cabinandcubshop.com
Photo: Jenna Forest
Jenna Forest
“Pyrography translates to writing with fire. My art aims to capture the intentions of my mind without detracting from the beauty of the wood: from snow-crowned mountains, wild rivers, and flourishing forests, to untamed creatures and harmonious humans at play.” | truesouthwooddesigns.com
Photo: Maren Hills
Maren Hills
A Vancouver Island maker of jewelry in wood, acrylic and leather. “This rustic kayak pendant is laser cut from birch wood—perfect for the water enthusiast,” says Maren. | joyhillsislanddesign.com
Photo: Janet Mackay
Janet Mackay
“Many of my paintings are inspired by our paddling trips or just lazy days at the cottage watching the paddlers go by. In 2019, I created a series called Skinny Dipping in Canada and have returned to the theme due to popular demand.” | worldviewstudio.ca/artists/janet-k-mackay
Drew is a second-generation raft guide and grew up in the small town of Lotus next to the South Fork of the American River. He spent his childhood playing alongside the river. Using ink and watercolor, Drew uses his experience kayaking and guiding to reflect the beauty and simple lifestyle rivers provide. | riverstoseastickers.com
Photo: James Woodall
James Woodall
“I am in Tennessee, building a house in Crossville on Daddy’s Creek. I have been carving little canoes and kayaks out of a variety of wood for about 25 years. I also create little metal figures and sculptures that I call Paddling Freaks. Search for Woody’s River Art on Facebook.” | facebook.com/Woodys-River-Art-772918876103387
Photo: Hailey Thompson
Hailey Thompson
“I’m an artist and whitewater kayaker living in Anchorage, Alaska. My small art business is called Watercolorwoods, and my work is a mixture of watercolors and acrylics, inspired by the wild rivers and mountains I’m fortunate enough to live amongst.” | watercolorwoods.com
[ Paddling Trip Guide: Find your next canoe, kayak, SUP or rafting adventure ]
Photo: Patrick McGrady
Patrick McGrady
“Inspiration for these illustrations comes from the paddling community. When sent a picture, I start my illustrating process in Photoshop. Through the mixed media approach, I create an illustration that inspires others to adventure outdoors.” | patrickmcgradydesigns.com
Show us your best shots!
For a chance to be featured in a future issue of Paddling Magazine, share your paddling photos and artwork from around the world on Facebook, Instagram or Twitter with the hashtag #paddleforever.
This article was first published in Paddling Magazine Issue 63. Subscribe to Paddling Magazine’s print and digital editions here, or browse the digital archives here.