Confessions Of A Rookie Raft Guide | Illustration: Lorenzo Del Bianco
The journal of 37-year-old school teacher Eric Johnson documents the highs, lows, lingo and lifestyle of the raft guide gig in all its glory on a weeklong beginner course with a herd of twentysomethings.
Day 0:
Pull into Coloma late and fail to find the rafting company campground. Sleep in the back of the truck down by the river—something I have been warned about.
Day 1:
Guide school begins. Meet my classmates. How old are you guys? Hoping for some endearing nickname like The Professor or Pops. Meet the instructors Sean and Iowa. (Note: never learn Iowa’s real name).
Introductions: “Tell us your name, a reason for taking the class, and an interesting thing about yourself.”
Most of the students are looking for jobs as rafting guides. They’ve been to exotic places, done interesting things and have personal philosophies. I am a high school teacher with a wife and three kids. Eyebrows go up. What married man with three small children enrolls in a whitewater guide school? I am either interesting or stupid. Several students scoot closer; they want to know which.
Day 1 Afternoon:
Gear checkout. “Rig to flip; dress to swim” our instructors remind us—the first of many eye-roll inducing rafting platitudes that will come our way. Later we hear: “T-it up,” “It’s never too early,” “Go with the flow,” “Embrace the spin,” or its more poetic cousin, “Spin it to win it.”
We take our first run down the river, a guided trip through the lower gorge of the South Fork of the American River. We ride as passengers and our instructors point out rapids and features of the river.
I make it a point to try and memorize everything.
Day 2:
I remember nothing.
Now it’s our turn. For the remainder of our instruction, we will be the ones guiding the rafts downriver. Terrifying. Under the guidance of absolute novices, we bounce off rocks, spin out of control through rapids and blow past eddies. Our “guides” change places every few bends, shriek commands, issue the wrong instructions, or totally freeze-up.
Confessions Of A Rookie Raft Guide | Illustration: Lorenzo Del Bianco
Day 3 & 4:
Middle Fork of the American River. Sean calls this river “bipolar.”
“It starts out with some super violent class IV and then goes to basically flatwater for nine miles until you hit more of these huge drops.”
Iowa is more emotive, “We’re going to the Mo’Fo’!”
Our instructors guide a rapid called Tunnel Chute.
“Super consequential,” are Iowa’s exact words.
“So what happens if we fall out of the raft in Tunnel Chute,” somebody—not me, of course—asks.
“Um…um…you need to get into a ball and go to a super happy place in your head.”
On the second day Sean falls out at the bottom of Tunnel Chute and we learn the importance of not falling out as a guide: Sean has to buy Iowa a case of beer.
Super consequential.
Day 5:
Throwbag and raft flipping practice. More inexpert rafting down the South Fork. I am sore, tired and drinking PBR’s after class. But I warn the young job seekers around me to abstain.
“You know, they might just want to see if you can go a week without drinking,” I say as I pop open another beer.
Day 6:
My pain is replaced by the sheer joy of being on the river everyday.
We do the whole river from the Chilli Bar section down through the lower gorge to the Folsom Reservoir takeout.
The upper section goes fine. I decide that I am totally guide material.
We stop at the campground for a quick lunch. After lunch I take another turn at the helm. I pilot us right onto Rookie Rock where we are pinned for the next five minutes until I unload some ego, which gets us off the rock but does not make my raft driving skills much better.
I proceed to hit rocks on down the river. I bounce off of Fowler’s Rock, the first rapid in the gorge section, spin backward through the rapid, hit several unnamed rocks that are just as hard. Not my best performance.
“Spicy line Johnson,” Sean says. “Who’s next?”
Humbled, I hand over my guide paddle.
Day 7:
On Saturday, last day of class, the instructors bring a two-person raft and a volleyball to the put-in.
“Wilson may fall out of the raft from time to time,” Sean says. “Please save him.”
This is the major exam.
Our last trip down the river goes well. We save Wilson a few times. We make pretty clean runs. I pilot Trouble Maker rapid perfectly and get another shot at Fowler’s Rock, which, upon successful navigation, I rename Johnson’s Redemption.
My younger classmates talk about what’s next if they are not asked to work for the company as a guide.
All that possibility. Paralyzing.
I am reminded that this is the part of being 22 I don’t miss.
“Don’t worry,” I tell them. “Just follow your line, T-it up, embrace the spin.”
My classmates roll their eyes in gratitude.
“No trouble,” I say. “That’s what I do. I’m a river guide.”
Schoolteacher Eric Johnson has returned to the classroom where he offers similar words of wisdom to his high school English class. They, too, roll their eyes.
This article first appeared in the Early Summer 2015 issue of Rapid Magazine.
Subscribe to Paddling Magazine and get 25 years of digital magazine archives including our legacy titles: Rapid, Adventure Kayak and Canoeroots.
There has never been a greater need to unplug and reconnect. The Paddle In The Park Contest was created to inform and remind people of the many rewards of getting outside, from our health and well being, to support parks and wild places. What better way and more exciting way to do this than with a chance to find a handcrafted canoe paddle, hidden somewhere along the many vast water trails in Ontario?
With the hope to encourage more people to get out there, Badger Paddles and Portaguer.ca got together with a number of Ontario paddlesports industry leaders to help promote spending time in the wilderness (parks and conservation areas, as well as other remote locations) by way of an interesting campaign. They put together 9+1 Rewards and Reasons to spend time in nature, every day this summer; and new for 2015, developed a “Paddle Points” system so those who are unable to take part in the paddle-seeking part of this popular event, will still have a chance to share their love of nature, all while increasing their chance of winning some cool gear and other prizes.
There’s a paddle in the park, waiting for you to find it. If you find it, you keep it.
The paddle-seeking portion of the contest starts July and runs until September 15th, 2015 or until all the paddles are found. The PADDLE POINTS portion of the contest opens July 15th, 2015 and closes September 30th, 2015 with winners to be announced shortly after. Be sure to read the contest rules before you enter.
PADDLE SEEKERS: There are six Badger Canoe Paddles hidden along the portage trails of some of the more popular canoeing destinations of Ontario. • Clues to their specific location will be offered throughout the summer, becoming increasingly specific • Hidden paddles are marked with a special collectors wooden tag with instructions and other information • Once you find a paddle, contact Paddle in the Park and they’ll send you the rest of the prize package • Prizes, besides the hidden paddles, include a subscription to Canoeroots magazine, along with more prizes and gear as provided by Algonquin Outfitters, Portageur.ca, Badger Paddles, The Happy Camper, Killarney Outfitters, Cabin Falls EcoLodge, Jeff’s Map, Trailhead Paddleshack – Ottawa, Wild Rock, Algonquin Basecamp, Sojourn, The Canadian Canoe Museum and more!
Obviously many people are going to be out looking for these hidden Badger paddles, so if you are travelling the Ontario wilderness by canoe this summer, keep your eyes open for a tagged canoe paddle (in a black Badger Paddle Sock) along the portage trails.
PADDLE POINTS SEEKERS: There are a limited number of PADDLE POINTS up for grabs this summer. • Upload photos of you and your friends completing tasks from our official list of various outdoor related challenges in exchange for Paddle Points and a chance to win gear and prizes from our fabulous sponsors, including a new Prospector from Nova Craft Canoe and more • By incorporating the official PITPC hashtag #RewardsAreOutThere in your photos, or when you include a copy of the official PADDLE POINTS Flag image, you automatically double your points value for each verified photo! • PITPC prize packs include the title classes Explorer, Pathfinder, Voyageur, and the coveted 1st class title of Wilderness Guide. • Share your PADDLE POINTS photos and adventures with everyone over the summer and at the end of the contest, entrants within each title class will have a chance to win the prize pack for their coinciding title class and more!
Find more info, clues, and updates at paddleintheparkcontest.ca.
THE BOUNDARY WATERS CANOE
AREA ENCOMPASSES 1,000 LAKES
AND 1,500 MILES OF CANOE
ROUTES. IT RECEIVES 250,000
VISTORS ANNUALLY.
| PHOTO: LAYNE KENNEDY
A mere glimpse of a map of Minnesota’s Boundary Waters and Ontario’s Quetico Provincial Park is enough to set the imaginations of Dave and Amy Freeman racing. The husband-and-wife founders of the Wilderness Classroom, a youth outdoor education program, developed their passion for canoe tripping in this mosaic of freshwater stretching across 9,000 square kilometers and an international border. They retraced canoe routes plied for thousands of years by Indigenous people and fur-trading voyageurs, reveling in vestigial wilderness located in the heart of the continent.
The late Ely, Minnesota-based author and conservationist Sigurd Olson called this place “The Singing Wilderness”—a fitting description for the siren’s call that has shaped the Freemans’ lives.
Last August, the couple were compelled to embark on a canoe journey that was profoundly different from the typical Boundary Waters trip. Dozens of paddlers gathered to send them off on the South Kawishiwi River; their Kevlar canoe was covered with hundreds of signatures, scrawled across its hull in black ink; and their destination was Washington, D.C., 3,000 kilometers distant.
The Freemans were following in the footsteps of Olson and other environmental activists whose efforts, over the past century, have saved Minnesota’s north woods from development; including hydroelectricity schemes, logging and motorized access.
Commemorating the 50th anniversary of the Wilderness Act, pivotal U.S. legislation that established the 4,400-square-kilometer Boundary Waters Canoe Area (BWCA), the Freemans were paddling to the White House to oppose a copper and nickel mine proposed for the doorstep of North America’s most popular canoe area. Fittingly, an 18-foot Wenonah model bearing 2,000 signatures was their petition.
Behind the looming environmental threat
Near the South Kawishiwi River, less than a kilometer from the BWCA’s southern boundary, $100 billion worth of copper, nickel and other minerals is buried in sulphur-bearing bedrock. Mine proponents argue Minnesota’s environmental regulations are robust enough to protect the surrounding waterways from contamination. Last summer, Twin Metals, a subsidiary of a Chilean mining company, started the process of getting state and federal permission to develop the largest underground mine in Minnesota history.
Dave and Amy Freeman with petition canoe, Sig, on their way to Washington, DC. | Photo: Nate Ptecek
Environmentalists identify Twin Metals’ mineral leases, which recently expired, as the key to stopping the proposal. While the company lobbies to have the claims extended this summer, the non-profit Save the Boundary Waters organization is countering with a national campaign to convince the federal government to outlaw mining activities altogether within the BWCA watershed.
“We have a unique moment in time when we the people can ask for public lands to be withheld from mining,” says Becky Rom, an Ely-based environmental activist. “We have an opportunity to finish the job.”
MiningWatch Canada, a non-profit industry watchdog organization in Ottawa, calls mining a “waste management industry.” A gold ring on your finger, for instance, is the product of about one ton of gold-bearing material—besides the one to three additional tons of so-called waste rock that must be removed to access the ore and is disposed of in mountainous heaps. Isolating desired minerals from ore also creates chemical- and heavy metal-laced reservoirs known as tailings ponds. Mining by-products must be carefully quarantined and monitored for leakage.
“It’s not a question of whether, but when, a leak will occur that will have major impacts on the water quality of the BWCA.”
— Dr. Tom Myers, hydrogeologist
Where mining occurs in sulphur-bearing rock, such as the proposed Twin Metals operations, there’s an elevated risk of acid mine drainage and metal leaching coming from waste rock and tailings ponds. These interconnected chemical processes occur when subsurface, sulphur-bearing materials react with water and air, creating sulphuric acid. Because dangerous metals like lead, zinc, copper and mercury become more soluble in acidic conditions, a feedback loop develops where increasingly acidic mine runoff becomes laced with higher and higher concentrations of toxins.
Copper and nickel deposits in northern Minnesota are located at the top of a watershed encompassing the BWCA, Voyageurs National Park and northwestern Ontario’s Quetico Provincial Park. Save the Boundary Waters hired Dr. Tom Myers, a Nevada-based hydrogeologist and water resources consultant, to dig deeper into the Twin Metals proposal.
Due to the “massively interconnected waterways” and minimal capacity of the surrounding vegetation to buffer acidic contamination, Myers concluded, “It’s not a question of whether, but when, a leak will occur that will have major impacts on the water quality of the BWCA.” The result would be analogous to the sterile waters of Ontario’s copper-mined Sudbury region.
“It’s like a massive time bomb,” says Rom, a lifelong Ely resident. “Everything that comes out of the mine must be captured and treated forever. If you did a true cost-benefit analysis, this type of mining wouldn’t pencil out.”
The Boundary Waters Canoe Area encompasses 1,000 lakes and 1,500 miles of canoe routes. It receives 250,000 visitors annually. | Feature photo: Layne Kennedy
Rom is the granddaughter of a miner who worked on Ely’s historic iron range. Her father bucked the mining tradition and, in 1946, started what would become the largest canoe outfitting company in the world, Canoe Country Outfitters. Bill Rom stood alongside Sigurd Olson in lobbying for the 1964 Wilderness Act. Meanwhile, his children worked as canoe guides in the BWCA; Becky started leading trips in the wilderness at age 14. She insists there could be no worse place to develop a mine like Twin Metals than on the doorstep of the BWCA.
“We’re basically an inland sea of interconnected wetlands, streams, rivers and lakes,” she says. “The nature of this kind of mining is such that you cannot prevent damage to the water or damage to the forest. The EPA says sulphide mining is America’s most toxic industry. Do we really want to put that in the watershed of America’s most popular wilderness?”
Not all locals are against the mine
Like Becky Rom, Nancy McReady is a lifelong Ely native. She and her husband, a retired miner, raised their family on the edge of the BWCA on Fall Lake, downstream from the Twin Metals deposits. The president of the Conservationists with Common Sense, a group advocating for responsible resource use, her organization stands for a healthy environment and “multiple use access to public lands and waters.”
“We support rules and regulations based on good facts and not just emotion,” says McReady.
McReady fully endorses the Twin Metals mine. For its part, the company touts a state-of-the-art, modern mine with more than 30 years of reserves that will bolster the regional economy with 850 full- time jobs and return Ely to its halcyon days. With over four billion tons of untapped minerals in northern Minnesota, Twin Metals could be the beginning of a mining boom.
“This is the next evolution of mining,” says McReady. “For future generations, I hope this mine goes. I love my town, but it’s dying. Mining will provide the jobs and the tax base to keep us going.”
Moreover, McReady is confident that Minnesota’s pollution regulations will keep an “eagle eye” on Twin Metals’ operations. She points to the Flambeau Mine, which operated in a sulphide ore body in Wisconsin and closed in 1997, as an example of how proper engineering can eliminate the risk of acid mine drainage. “The sulphide content here is nowhere near what it is in other areas where they’ve mined successfully,” says McReady. (The Flambeau legacy remains controversial. In 2012, federal court ruled Flambeau had violated the Clean Water Act, but also praised the company for promptly addressing the issue.)
Acid mine drainage as seen in this stream in north-central Pennsylvania. | Photo: Nicholas A. Tonelli
“Here in our backyard we can do it right,” says McReady. “As long as the science is there, we will be supportive. If it’s proven otherwise, we will be there to stop it as well.”
The long, winding journey to Washington, DC
Whenever he traveled beyond the Boundary Waters, Sigurd Olson inevitably compared the sights and sounds to his beloved Minnesota lakes. “The singing wilderness has to do with the calling of the loons, the northern lights, and the great silences of a land lying northwest of Lake Superior,” he wrote. “I have heard the singing in many places, but I seem to hear it best in the wilderness lake country of the Quetico-Superior, where travel is still by pack and canoe over the ancient trails of the Indians and voyageurs.”
“The EPA says sulphide mining is America’s most toxic industry. Do we really want to put that in the watershed of America’s most popular wilderness?”
— Becky Rom
From the South Kawishiwi River, Dave and Amy Freeman paddled north to the Border Route, following the voyageur highway across Basswood, Knife and Saganaga lakes, and making the 13-kilometer Grand Portage to Lake Superior. They had plenty of time to reflect on the significance of the BWCA wilderness—both on a personal level and in the way it has ignited an environmental ethos in legions of Americans. Amy recalled her first BWCA canoe trip as a 12-year-old. “It opened my eyes to how important it is for people to spend time in wild places,” she says. “Even as a kid, it was special.”
After strapping their canoe to a sailboat to make time on the Great Lakes, the Freemans again took to the paddle in Ontario, battling the currents of the French and Mattawa rivers to the Ottawa River, and crossing the U.S. border at Lake Champlain. They also stopped to deliver over 40 presentations to environmental groups, outdoor clubs and students along the way. Finally, they paddled the Hudson River and the Atlantic seaboard and arrived on December 2 in Washington, D.C. The 101-day journey reaffirmed the couple’s love for the BWCA. “Nothing else was quite so wild,” says Amy.
Over 40 Minnesotans greeted the Freemans when they landed in Washington and portaged the signature canoe to Capitol Hill. It was nice to reconnect with friends, but it was the people they met along the way who bolstered their resolve.
“Even in far away places like Ottawa, Vermont and New York City, people would tell us stories about their first experience in the Boundary Waters,” says Dave. “It made us appreciate what a treasure we have.”
Conor Mihell is an environmental reporter and adventure travel journalist. Visit him at: conormihell.com
This article was first published in the Early Summer 2015 issue of Canoeroots Magazine. Subscribe to Paddling Magazine’s print and digital editions, or browse the archives.
The Boundary Waters Canoe Area encompasses 1,000 lakes and 1,500 miles of canoe routes. It receives 250,000 visitors annually. | Feature photo: Layne Kennedy
THE FIRST 50 YEARS OF WERNER PADDLES| PHOTOS: COURTESY WERNER PADDLES
In 1965 Werner Furrer used a piece of plywood, some glue, varnish and wooden dowels made for the clothes hangers in his closet, to scrap together a paddle for his newly purchased kayak.
A professional engineer, Furrer was living in Hoquiam, Washington at the time with his wife Martha and their four kids. Paddling quickly became the family sport.
“With little money and some design ideas in mind, the garage became a kayak building shop,” says Bruce Furrer, who was four at the time, the second-youngest Furrer child. “Necessity spurred innovation.”
“Each kayak needed a paddle as well as all the other accessories. Everything was handmade.”
Today Werner Paddles employs nearly 100 people, makes hundreds of paddles every day and has athlete ambassadors traveling the globe with Werner sticks.
In the ‘60s though, the Furrers made just enough paddles to outfit the family, plus a few extra to account for breakage when they started racing on whitewater.
THE FIRST 50 YEARS OF WERNER PADDLES| PHOTOS: COURTESY WERNER PADDLES
“Our garage had never seen a car inside of it,” says Bruce, who took over presidency of the company in 1989. “It was always just kayak and paddle shop.”
By 1970, signs of business were stirring. Friends who paddled with the Furrers started asking to buy their blades and Werner Jr., the eldest Furrer son, saw it as an opportunity to support a career in slalom racing. With the help of Werner Sr., he sold 47 paddles in 1971, at seventeen dollars each.
Werner Jr. built the paddles with the same process used on early prototypes. “He used fiberglass blade molds and the same wooden dowels used on the first paddle,” says Bruce. “Wet polyester resin and fiberglass cloth were sandwiched between two fiberglass molds held in place with primitive C-clamps. Simple but effective.”
Werner Sr. took care of the bookkeeping and business side of things, including drawing this brochure from 1971, which reads, “Specifically selected material, design based on extensive experience in connection with developed skills created these paddles.” They were always built for personal use first, and eventually crafted for sale once they’d been tried and tested.
“Everyone was involved at some point,” says Bruce. “Extra help from family was always needed when an order came in.” When the popularity of kayak touring blew up in the early ‘80s, Werner Paddles officially outgrew its roots as a family garage business. They found industrial space in Everett, WA, incorporated, and business took off.
Although the molds are more precise and the carbon fiber is higher tech, a Werner paddle you buy today was crafted using methods surprisingly similar to how they were made from the start. It’s also branded with a logo that evolved as the Furrer family symbol: a W for Werner Sr. and an M for Martha, surrounded by a circle symbolizing their family, and two birds representing freedom.
This article first appeared in the Early Summer 2015 issue of Rapid Magazine.
Subscribe to Paddling Magazine and get 25 years of digital magazine archives including our legacy titles: Rapid, Adventure Kayak and Canoeroots.
Not all threats are equally dangerous. To put the risks in perspective, we look at your nine biggest backcountry fears. Find out which are valid, which are bogus, what should really be worrying you and how to prepare for all of them.
The real hazards and false fears of wilderness camping
1 Hypothermia
According to the U.S. National Safety Council, exposure is the number one killer outdoors. It’s caused when cold, wet or windy conditions cause body temperature to drop—below 95 degrees Fahrenheit is a medical emergency.
Statistically speaking, it’s unlikely to be a winter camping trip that endangers you—hypothermia preys on the unprepared. Many cases occur when the temperature is between 30 and 50 degrees. Florida, one of the warmest states, reports hundreds of cases of exposure each year because recreationalists aren’t prepared for cold weather.
Best defense: Remember the acronym C.O.L.D.Cover up, avoid Overexertion and activities that cause you to sweat, wear Layers and stay Dry.
Far more dangerous than a grizzly bear are the nearsighted deer wandering America’s interstates. | Photo: Janko Ferlic/Pexels
2 Wild animals
Cougars and grizzly bears have brawn, beauty and a certain terrifying mystique, but even combined, attacks on humans resulting in fatalities average just two per year in North America. Far more dangerous are the nearsighted deer wandering America’s interstates.
In the U.S., vehicle collisions with deer cause about 200 human deaths every year. Pennsylvania has the highest number, with an estimated 115,000 collisions in 2013. According to State Farm Insurance, West Virginia holds the dubious distinction of being the state where you’re actually most likely to hit a deer (a one in 39 chance over a 12-month period).
Best defense: Slow down. (Or drive a really, really big truck.)
3 Injury
Injuries resulting in death in the wilderness are uncommon. A three-year internal study by the National Outdoor Leadership School (NOLS), which was conducted over 441,885 program days, found that athletic injuries accounted for 50 percent of all injuries on trip, and soft-tissue injuries accounted for another 30 percent.
Athletic injuries were most often sprains and strains of knees (35 percent), ankles (30 percent) and backs (13 percent). Falls and slips were the most common reasons for injuries, resulting from games (such as touch tag), rock hops while stream crossing and lifting boats. There were no fatalities during the study period.
Best defense: Stay fit prior, and lay off the contact sports on trip.
4 Illness
As reported by NOLS in the same study, the most common illnesses affecting participants on trip are gastrointestinal upsets, such as nausea, vomiting and diarrhea. Recent research supported by Tulane University challenges the conventional wisdom that an upset tummy is the result of ill-treated water containing water-borne bacteria, giardia (cause of the infamous beaver fever).
Experts now think many gastro cases are caused by a far more disgusting culprit—what we call Poopy Hand Syndrome. PHS results from poor hygiene practices—fecal bacteria spread from hand to mouth—and it can rip through a group like wildfire.
Best defense: Use hand sanitizer prior to meals and wash hands religiously. And, don’t poop on your hands.
Paddlers rarely seem to worry about dehydration—water is everywhere, right? Dehydration can be an insidious crippler of good judgment, even before it becomes physically crippling. Combatting this common ailment sounds deceptively simple—just drink water.
The adage that recommends adults drink 64 ounces (eight glasses) daily might seem like overkill at home but won’t cut it on an active outdoors trip at any time of year.
Best defense: Juice crystals and electrolyte solutions can help up your intake and stave off water boredom.
Campfires and stoves look hazardous but are thankfully responsible for few trip-ending injuries. The greater danger may lie overhead. Skin cancer is the most common type of cancer with more than two million Americans diagnosed each year.
Children are especially vulnerable: The Skin Cancer Foundation predicts one blistering sunburn in childhood or adolescence more than doubles a person’s chances of developing melanoma later in life.
Best defense: The sun protection factor on sunscreen refers to UVB rays, which are primarily responsible for sunburns. Your sunscreen may not protect against UVA rays, which penetrate deeper into the skin. Choose a broad-spectrum sunscreen.
7 Drowning
According to the Red Cross, each year in Canada there are approximately 525 water-related fatalities. Of those, 166 are boating-related incidents. Alcohol is present or suspected in more than 50 percent of cases. The Red Cross estimates that wearing a life jacket would prevent 90 percent of those deaths.
Best defense: Wear a properly fitting PFD. Don’t drink and paddle. Invest in swim lessons for kids and water-wary adults.
Each year, lightning kills approximately 33 people in the U.S. The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration estimates the odds of being killed by lightning in any given year are one in 1.9 million. Those are pretty slim odds. The greatest danger of any kind of severe weather lies in not recognizing the threat in time to react.
Best defense: Listen to the forecast and keep an eye on the sky. Be wary of cauliflower-esque clouds with rapid vertical growth; this often indicates a thunderstorm, wind and heavy rain are on the way. Get off the water and seek shelter.
9 Not going at all
The wilderness might seem intimidating sometimes, but face it—smog, Big Macs and a sedentary lifestyle pose bigger threats to your health than anything you’re likely to face in the woods. All three are linked to lifestyle risk factors for heart disease, the leading cause of death in North America, causing 611,105 deaths last year according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.
America’s entire national park system, which saw 283 million visits in 2012, suffered just 143 fatalities that year (including car accidents, and front and backcountry deaths). Countless studies prove time in nature increases happiness and decreases stress hormones, blood pressure and heart rate. Children who engage in outdoor play have enhanced imaginations and attention spans, and do better in the classroom.
Best defense: Go camping. Repeat regularly.
This article was first published in the Early Summer 2015 issue of Canoeroots Magazine. Subscribe to Paddling Magazine’s print and digital editions, or browse the archives.
An environment-proof dry case and speaker, Drytunes pairs via Bluetooth or cord to any device and snaps shut with room for the items I carry around during the day: keys, wallet, a light layer and snack. Magnetic controls let me change songs and volume without opening the case, and after a full day of use, the rechargeable battery is still running. My favorite feature: exceptional sound quality. You’ll be amazed.
Whether you want tropical beaches, northern fjords, cultural experiences or wildlife encounters, here are 10 ultimate kayaking destinations around the world.
Antarctica
Paddle with icebergs and penguins, visit research stations, follow the footsteps of Shackleton, and experience the austere beauty of the world’s most isolated continent—all made more accessible by a handful of specialised expedition mother ships.
Vancouver Island
Explore the wild coastline of Nootka, relax on the sandy beaches of Clayoquot Sound, kayak with orcas in the Johnstone Straight and indulge in a soak at Hot Springs Cove. Have camera ready for whales, wolves, eagles and sea otters—but also keep that raingear handy!
Patagonia by Flickr.com/photos/chrisschoenbohm
Patagonia
With windswept fjords, restless volcanoes, hot-springs, glacial rivers and enough islands and inlets to keep European explorers flummoxed for decades, Patagonia is the ultimate bucket list destination for adventurous kayakers seeking spectacular scenery and challenging paddling conditions.
Panama
Want to kayak and snorkel with turtles, rays and whale sharks? Head to the Pacific island of Coiba, known as Panama’s Galapagos. To explore the Atlantic side, paddle the picture perfect San Blas Islands and enjoy the hospitality of the indigenous Kuna people.
Paddling in Hawaii by Flickr.com/photos/fortes/
Hawaii
For a peaceful daytrip, paddle with dolphins in Kona’s Kealakekua Bay or depart Oahu’s Kailua Beach for a picnic and swim at the Mokulua Islands. For paddlers ready for challenging surf and currents, explore Kauai’s famed Napali Coast or the north shore of Molokai, home of the tallest sea cliffs in the world.
New Zealand
With diverse landscapes and climates, the North and South Islands have an incredible array of kayaking options. The coastal paradise of Abel Tasman National Park is perhaps NZ’s most famous paddling destination, but there are dozens of options from Milford Sound in rugged Fiordland to the sub-tropical Bay of Islands.
Baja
Sun-kissed sandy beaches, warm waters and spectacular sunsets over the Pacific keep many kayakers returning to this paddling paradise year after year. Paddle with migratory gray whales in Bahia Magdalena, explore Loreto’s Gulf Islands, or try your hand at some seriously epic kayak fishing.
Kayaking in Gros Morne, Newfoundland by Flickr.com/photos/grosmornecoop
Newfoundland
The cold waters around the Rock are more than balanced by the warm welcome of the people. Explore the rocky grandeur of Gros Morne National Park or paddle with puffins, whales and icebergs along the Avalon Peninsula.
Iceland
Hot springs, geysers, waterfalls, volcanoes – this mystical island of sagas, storms and endless summer daylight feels like an alternate reality. Paddle past glaciers along the fjords of Jökulfirðir, or explore the cosmopolitan city of Reykjavik from the water.
Ireland
The Emerald Isle boasts an irresistible mix of history, culture, picturesque seaside villages and ocean paddling for all levels. Visit the haunts of Gaelic pirate queen Granuaille along the Connemara coastline, test your skills in the surf at Bundoran or dozens of lesser known breaks, and wrap up your day swapping tales in the local pub.
TAKE TWO: NEARLY IMPOSSIBLE CANYON OF
INFAMOUS REMOTE RIVER. AND...ACTION! | PHOTO:JENS KLATT
Through an expert combination of thoughtful interviews and heart-stopping whitewater footage, German filmmaker Olaf Obsommer’s latest project, The Grand Canyon of the Stikine, captures the heart and soul of the storied river—the closest most people will get to the real experience. Born to paddling parents, Obsommer’s entire life has been on the water, and he’s been filming whitewater since 1992. The Grand Canyon of the Stikine won Best Whitewater Film in the 2015 Reel Paddling Film Festival.
Why filmmaking?
In my dreams, it’s a sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll lifestyle. In reality, being outside in nature is the main thing. That’s what it’s all about—I don´t have to be filming kayaking as long I’m close to Mother Earth. It’s a privilege to live this way. It fills my heart with love and makes all the effort that goes into a film worthwhile when people thank me for the inspiration and entertainment.
What makes a great whitewater film?
Action, passion, interesting characters, humor and, if possible, some historical footage. A good story, music and little bit of craziness is important. Maybe I’m old school, but I always film with a camera on a tripod with fluid head. We had two of those in Stikine Canyon. Of course it’s more stressful to run rapids with a tripod between your legs, but the quality is worth it, and a telephoto lens lets you get shots you couldn’t get on a wearable camera.
What’s your approach?
Most importantly, I try not to take myself too seriously—it’s only kayaking. It’s important to know what market you’re making a film for. If it’s just for fun, it’s easy—I can do whatever I want. If a movie is for an audience of kayakers, I don’t have to explain basics and difficulty. If it’s for non-kayakers, I explain more about the sport. For videos that will be online, I don’t like long intros—I joke that if there’s no action in the first 30 seconds, the movie fails. That’s why Stikine starts straight away with hard whitewater.
TAKE TWO: NEARLY IMPOSSIBLE CANYON OF INFAMOUS REMOTE RIVER. AND…ACTION! | PHOTO:JENS KLATT
What are the challenges?
Having extra gear in my kayak—cameras, lenses, tripods and other little tools—make it difficult to be fast. You have to have good climbing skills too. On the Stikine I’d climb 15 minutes up to get a shot. Then, after a long day of paddling and filming on the river, you have to find the motivation to shoot interviews, the camping lifestyle, landscape and wildlife. The hardest part is finding the drive and spirit to invest as much passion as possible in each shot.
How do you choose an expedition team?
Friendship is important—you can be in the most beautiful place on earth but when the chemistry is wrong in the group, it’s a nightmare. How do I avoid this? I make sure all the egos on a trip are smaller than my own! Joking aside: big egos kill adventures. I’ve heard of expeditions that ended in fistfights. Harmony is important. The people I started paddling with aren’t all still living the kayak lifestyle I am, so these days I’m usually the oldest and I’m happy to be on trips as long as I don’t slow things down too much for the young fellas.
This article first appeared in the Early Summer 2015 issue of Rapid Magazine.
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The total biomass of all the ants on Earth is roughly equal to the total biomass of all the people on Earth. Scientists estimate there are at least 1.5 million ants on the planet for every human.
Though many campers have literally had ants in their Carhartts, the top candidate for the first non-literal use of “ants in your pants” is the 1934 recording by Chick Webb and His Orchestra, “I Can’t Dance (I Got Ants in My Pants).”
Ants are capable of carrying objects 50 times their own body weight with their mandibles. With that kind of strength, a human could hoist a pickup truck overhead.
Award for the most heroic ant of all time goes to Anty, the protagonist in the 1989 live action Disney hit, Honey, I Shrunk the Kids. Anty selflessly sacrificed herself in battle so that oddball scientist Rick Moranis’ tiny children could make it to safety. It makes more sense when you watch the movie, I promise.
The bullet ant is named because the sting of its neurotoxic venom is said to be as painful as a gunshot wound. Entomologist Justin Schmidt rated the stings of 78 insect species and described the pain of a bullet ant sting as, “pure, intense, brilliant pain. Like walking over flaming charcoal with a three-inch nail in your heel.” Which would pretty much ruin anyone’s picnic.
This article first appeared in the Early Summer 2015 issue of Canoeroots and Family Camping magazine.
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Seattle-based Gary Luhm is one of the most prolific paddling photographers working on the water today. Whether capturing intimate portraits of seabirds and marine life, or shooting high-action kayaking and stirring seascapes—like the Early Summer issue’s cover—Luhm has combined his keen eye and his comfort in a cockpit since the early ‘90s. After learning to roll his kayak, he discovered “a whole new world: rough-water paddling, coastal exploration, solo trips.” There was no turning back—Luhm left an engineering career in 1998 to pursue his twin passions full-time.
WHO has been your most difficult subject?
We were aboard the kayak mothership Home Shore, in 2003, anchored in protected waters off Chichagof Island, Alaska. It was stormy weather—17- foot swell on the outside. My paddling buddy Tim Walsh and I paddled out through a slot between islets and into a maelstrom of ocean swell, rock reef and reflected waves. I pulled out an all-manual Nikonos underwater camera and shot a dozen, one-handed frames. A couple of images from that shoot became best sellers. Not long after, Home Shore lost their liability insurance when the insurer saw the published photos!
WHAT advice to you give photographers?
Make a shot list. If you have trouble thinking up a list, study images others have created from the area you’re going to paddle, and imagine how you could do better. Don’t shoot from eye level—lie on the ground, climb a tree. If seated in the kayak, shoot with the camera at arm’s length, either down near the water or high overhead—anything to get your subject’s eyes off the horizon line. It’s difficult to get out front for shots of paddlers moving toward you, but that’s the shot that sells. We’re wired to want to see faces.
STARVING ARTIST. PHOTO: GARY LUHM
WHEN did you run out of P.B.?
I stole the idea for this self-portrait from Seattle photographer John Greengo. His own peanut butter jar selfie accompanies a great story about how he ran out of food on a canoe trip and he wanted to represent that photographically. The empty peanut butter jar did the trick. My selfie, similarly composed with a wide-angle lens peering from the bottom of a Costco-size jar, has a starving artist angle. For execution, I simply cut the bottom out of a spent jar and tried to show some desperation in my face.
WHERE do you look for creativity?
I don’t have a problem staying creative—I’ve got an internal shot list that never shrinks. My ratio of paddling for fun versus work is probably 10:1 on the fun side. On weekends, paddling with friends or Washington Kayak Club trips, I don’t often pick up the camera. A typical year, I shoot 70 days in the field, or roughly one day in five. Non-shooting workdays, I’m editing photos, marketing, planning the next shoot, or traveling. My advice: shoot locally. You benefit from more days shooting, save on travel cost (that’s big), and it’s better for the planet (even bigger).
WHY not mountain biking or skiing?
I had some knee trouble and was looking for a sport I could really embrace. Sea kayaking is perfect: a year-round activity, as vigorous as you want it to be, no limit to skill-building, great camaraderie, quick getaways, fascinating scenery and wildlife, and great food, too. Exploring by kayak is endless. Lately, I’m almost glad it seems to be losing popularity to SUP and other lower-cost-of-entry activities. We can still have those remote, no-cell-service beaches to ourselves.
This article first appeared in the Early Summer 2015 issue of Adventure Kayak magazine.
Subscribe to Paddling Magazine and get 25 years of digital magazine archives including our legacy titles: Rapid, Adventure Kayak and Canoeroots.