Top Paddler’s Pubs

Trips

Photo: Scott MacGregor — Top Paddler's Pubs

Is there anything more refreshing than a cold beer after a day on the river? (No, we aren’t talking bootie beers here). Excluding lukewarm Pabst at your local takeout, we’ve compiled a list of some of the best places to go for the all-important pint.

We know there are many more out there! Add any pubs you’d like to see on the list in the comments section below.

Pies and Pints

Fayetteville, West Virginia, USA

Serving up delicious (and local) craft beer and pizza, Pies and Pints is a visit you must make on your next trip to Gauley Fest. After a weekend of tenting it and eating camp food, it’ll be just what you need, especially after racing your heart out in the annual Animal Race.

The Okere Falls Store

Okere Falls, New Zealand

Okere Falls is a mecca of sorts due to its proximity to the Kaituna River. After a day of running laps on the ‘Tuna, head down to the Okere Falls Store and treat yourself to a delicious pie and a selection from their German beer. Enjoy their beer garden out back, and be sure to check for drink specials—they make a mean Gin and Tonic.

The Whitewater Brewing Company

Forester’s Falls, Ontario, Canada

Just steps from the Lorne on the Mighty Ottawa River (think Minibus, Pushbutton or Garb), this up and coming craft brewery serves up four varieties of their unfiltered and delicious beer. They have a brewpub in the works that’ll be serving up pizzas, entertainment, and of course, sudsy brews to the many paddlers on their way from the take out.

Nile River Explorers

Bujagali, Jinja, Uganda

After a day of paddling on the White Nile, escape the African heat with a visit to Nile River Explorers (NRE). At this paddler-friendly rafting base, head down to the River Camp to find accommodation, food, a well-stocked bar and stunning views of the Nile from the deck.

River Shack Deli & Pub

Coloma, California, USA

A great place to end a day on the American River—whether you choose to paddle the North, Middle, or South Fork is up to you. The River Shack is a favourite among paddlers. Stop in and check out the vast assortment of sandwiches and beer, and find out where everyone is planning to paddle tomorrow.

The Wilno Tavern

Wilno, Ontario, Canada

Halfway between the Madawaska and the Ottawa River, Wilno is nestled among the hills of eastern Ontario. Along with an assortment of beer, their specialty is delicious homemade pierogies. If you venture there on a Tuesday night in peak season, be prepared to dance to the house band with a pile of paddlers who work in the area.

Suggestions to add to the list? Leave us a comment!

Mud Pots and Pelicans

Trips

Photos: Chuck Graham — Mud Pots and Pelicans

A dark wind line rose across the Salton Sea, howling west to east and engulfing us in frigid whitecaps. Seeking meager refuge on Mullet Island, we slogged three miles further to the craggy, guano-covered islet in California’s largest lake.

After dragging our kayaks and standup paddleboards up the island’s leeward side, we ducked inside the only manmade structure in sight—a bunker-like, roofless cubicle that acted as a much-needed windbreak against the winter chill. Frozen fingers fiddled with maps and GPS, searching for a decent campsite. We were in the midst of exploring the briny, 110-mile shoreline of this bizarre, manmade lake in southeastern California’s Colorado Desert. Our progress stalled, our group of five paddlers crusted in salt and struggling to stay warm, we began to question our sanity.

Filling the Sink

Formerly known as the Salton Sink, flooding on the Colorado River breached levees and dikes in 1905 and again in 1907, transforming one of the lowest elevations in North America into the Salton Sea. The body of sparkling water that eventually developed was a boon for the region that lasted for over 50 years. The Salton Sea became a Mecca for weekenders, boat races, waterskiing and fishing tournaments. Hollywood celebs like the Marx Brothers, Jerry Lewis and Frank Sinatra frequented the sea’s shores. For a while, the Salton was billed as “the next Las Vegas,” at one point receiving more visitors than Yosemite National Park.

But the boom wouldn’t last. More flooding followed, stymieing further development and the resort atmosphere. Over the years, as the floodwaters have receded—and because there’s never been an outlet for the water—the Salton Sea’s salinity levels have skyrocketed. Scorching summer heat evaporates the water, leaving behind natural salts—the sea is now 25 percent saltier than the Pacific Ocean. During the summer when temperatures are consistently at triple digits, there have been mass die-offs of fish. Only the hardy tilapia remains, the sole species able to withstand such high salinity levels.

Come winter though, the Salton is a major stopover for migratory birds, making it an overlooked gem for paddlers. Over 400 species of birds have been documented here, with 80 percent of the entire American white pelican population wintering on the tranquil shores.

Geological Wonders

As we continued to shiver, we could see the plump white birds soaring in V-shaped formations over thermal plumes wafting skyward. To thwart the winds, the pelicans roosted close together on the sea’s knobby peninsulas.

Only 100 yards east of Mullet Island was an expansive mudflat where the thermal plumes steamed out of boiling mud pots. The region is a natural geological wonder of extinct and dormant volcanoes and thermal vents. Three miles south of Mullet, black volcanic glass is embedded in the sharp rocks surrounding Obsidian Point.

We found the mouth of the Alamo River a mile south of our windbreak and camped there for the night. The runnel flows up from Mexico and feeds the Salton Sea, one of the few reliable water sources in the region. It was too shallow to paddle, so we waded and portaged our kayaks in ankle-deep water to the river mouth.

We tucked ourselves in the cattails and watched American avocets, western sandpipers, egrets and great blue herons wade in the shallows, the wind calming down enough for the birds to forage in the salty water and for us to pitch our tents without them taking off like kites.

The next morning we paddled back toward Mullet Island, and then hiked across the mudflats to the boiling mud pots. I was barefoot, and the mud surrounding the boiling thermals was cool, but the pots were hot. We stayed upwind of the thermals and noticed we weren’t the only ones enjoying these unique geological features. Some shorebirds were also soaking in the warmth a good distance from their typical briny shoreline habitat.

Navy Site

Early the next morning we paddled 12 mile southwest to an abandoned navy site, where expansive sand dunes drifted 300 hundred yards beyond the shoreline. We beached our kayaks in a small cove with amazing views of the Santa Rosa Mountains National Wildlife Refuge to the northwest. Coyotes howled behind us in the well-manicured dunes as a hairy tarantula tiptoed in front of my tent.

Shooting stars filled the night’s sky as a melody of lapping waves lulled us to sleep. In the morning, pink and purple hues eased across the mountains as we paddled down to the navy site. The scene was apocalyptic: brine-crusted, weather-beaten pilings leaned at drunken angles, cormorant nests clinging to their tops. Rusty, corroded beams lined the dock leading into the water.

Hold the Salt

The Chocolate Mountains loomed on the eastern horizon as we began a pre-dawn 12-mile crossing. Initially we aimed for what appeared to be an oil platform three miles off the shoreline, but as we drew near, we discovered nothing more than a wooden weather observation post ensconced in bird guano and cormorant nests. The desert plays tricks with scale.

From there it was a long, uneventful crossing to the northeast shore. Halfway across the Salton Sea’s widest point, an annoying southeast wind picked up. Whitecaps sloshed over the starboard side of our kayaks. By the time we reached our destination, our kayaks looked like glazed doughnuts with thick salt crusted over every inch of their decks.

A large flock of American white pelicans had congregated in the shallows, plunging their yellow beaks in the water. They weren’t alarmed by our presence, barely ruffling their creamy white feathers as we hauled our gear to our trucks near the historic Salton Sea Yacht Club, built in 1962.

We grabbed our standup paddleboards and paddled inside the harbor beneath the yacht club. The jetties forced the wind to lie down so we used old pilings standing in the harbor as a slalom course, racing from end to end. For a moment, we could almost imagine the Salton Sea of yesteryear, when glamorous weekenders—not just pelicans—flocked here by the thousands.

If You Go

Camping is of the primitive variety except at the Salton Sea State Recreation Area, and seven miles south at the Salt Creek Kayak Camp. Constructed by the Department of Boats and Waterways, the camp has shade, water, barbecues, showers and bathrooms. There are racks to store kayaks and standup paddleboards.

The best time to paddle the Salton Sea is from winter into spring, when bird numbers peak and temperatures are tolerable. Expect daytime temps in the 70s (Fahrenheit); nighttime temps can drop to freezing.

For more information on the Salton Sea, visit www.parks.ca.gov.

Chuck Graham is a paddler, photographer and freelance writer in Carpinteria, California. See more of his work at chuckgrahamphoto.com

Discriminating Divas

Photo: courtesy Bill Thompson — Discriminating Divas

Flappers and card sharks, gangsters and molls, hippies and celebrities. At the Ladies of the Lake Symposium, held every August in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, the question of what to wear applies as much to the Saturday night costume party as it does to paddling gear.

Themes for the all-women event’s Werner Paddles party have included the Roaring ‘20s, Las Vegas, Prom, Woodstock and the Oscars. Each year, the costumes increase in creativity and complexity.

Shopping at thrift stores and raiding closets is all part of the fun says West Coast paddling instructor Cindy Scherrer (above, far right), a regular coach and carouser at the event. “It’s usually a cooperative effort with several friends,” she reveals, “We pool the things we find and have a great time putting it together.”

Ladies of the Lake founder Bill Thompson credits Werner Paddles’ Danny Mongno for the unusual tradition…

Click here to continue reading about the Ladies of the Lake in the free digital edition of Adventure Kayak, Spring 2014, or download our free app for iPad/iPhone/iPod Touch or Android.

Muskoka River X

At the start line, nobody spoke. It was too cold and the anxiousness of the race permeated the pall of early morning. Misted breath hovered over each paddler as I looked around. We were an eclectic gathering of 50 teams. The three standup paddleboarders among the canoes and kayaks looked out of place, rearing up like wraiths in the fog. I couldn’t fathom how they were going to stand it for 130 kilometers. When the air horn blew, signalling the beginning of the race, I just sat there, waiting for the initial explosion of blades in water to calm. The early morning sun burst from behind a cloud, giving the misty morning a golden glow. It was surreal.

“Hap!” my wife, Andrea, called from the bow. “Get paddling, I’m freezing!”

Longest and Toughest

We were one of the first teams to sign up for the inaugural running of the Muskoka River X, touted as the world’s longest and toughest single day canoe race. Its 24-hour deadline makes it an event like no other.

The math is simple: Just keep up a five-and-a-half kilometer per hour pace to finish in time. The reality is more difficult—the 130-kilometer route tracks across four lakes, two river systems and six kilometers of portages. It translates into 23,466 strokes at three meters per stroke, through large, exposed lakes and remote river waterways. Navigating portages, rapids, waterfalls, chutes and gravel bars with only map and compass are necessary skills; all the better if you can do them in the dark, without sleep.

Navigating portages, rapids, waterfalls, chutes and gravel bars with only maps and compasses are necessary skills; all the better if you can do them in the dark, without sleep.

Leaving from the picturesque town of Huntsville on the morning of September 14, racers first crossed a series of lakes, including the notoriously rough Lake of Bays, to reach the South Muskoka River and the town of Brace-bridge. By that time, most competitors were paddling into the sunset and the final leg of the loop, upstream on the North Muskoka River, was completed in total darkness.

“Muskoka was the perfect place,” says race co-director Rob Horton. “Its combination of history and accessible wilder-ness made it perfect for a race route.”

The area is quintessential cottage country. Muskoka chairs line the shoreline and canoes have a rich history here. I’m familiar with the area, having mapped it out for a book I wrote about local canoe routes a dozen years ago.

The local routes were the hunting grounds for First Nations communities long before the coureur de bois arrived. The river systems afforded access deep into the interior, and explorers like David Thompson navigated them on his way west.

In the early 20th century, the re-source-rich area was a mecca for loggers, who plied the thick forests for gi-ant pine to ship south and hemlock to float down to the mills to feed the burgeoning tanning industry. Look closely, and you can still see some remnants of the industry along the shoreline, mooring anchors in rock and felled trees be-neath crystal blue waters.

Self Reliance

Race day excitement had begun the night before with a mandatory gear check in.

“All teams are required to carry essential wilderness tripping gear for the duration of the race,” explained Horton. That included sleeping bags, a tent, a water purifier, extra clothing for warmth and food for 24 hours or more. Looking around at the lightweight gear spread out in front of other participants, I noticed Andrea and I had considerably more—enough for three days out, in fact. Four decades of tripping in Canada’s harshest environments taught me to be prepared. We’d chosen to secure our gear in two watertight barrels—also not the norm for racing, I noticed.

The race’s mantra of self-reliance was inspired by the adventure racing world, which both Horton and co-director Mike Varieur are regular participants in. “We learned from other races,” says Varieur, who came up with the idea for the River X a year and a half ago. “I did all the logistics work and course design, while Rob [Horton] was the technology guy.”

Horton created a virtual map, so that armchair spectators could follow each team on the race’s website. Because of the remote route and potential risks, such as hypothermia, capsizing in rapids and night paddling, SPOT satellite messengers were part of the required safety equipment. Having the ability for racers to hit an SOS button for immediate rescue was reassuring to all involved—and some would use it before the day was done.

I couldn’t fathom not doing a proper J-stroke. That alone slowed us down by two kilometers an hour. It was enough to make a marathon paddler cringe.

Reflections

I was mid-route when I started reflecting on the differences between marathon paddlers and wilderness trippers. Trippers typically use a J-stroke for correcting steerage; racers use the “hut” stroke, switching sides constantly to keep the canoe aligned. They also use bent-shaft paddles, curved to eliminate the unproductive reach of the traditional blade. I couldn’t fathom not doing a proper J-stroke. That alone slowed us down by two kilometers an hour. It was enough to make a marathon paddler cringe.

Though sanctioned by the Ontario Marathon Canoe and Kayaking Race Association—necessary for insurance—few OMCKRA members participated. All crafts in the River X had to have the capacity to carry wilderness tripping supplies, so traditional racing shells were disallowed.

The end result was that the race attracted casual paddlers and trippers, many without any racing experience. Most of the racers were just your average canoe trippers with the crazy notion that paddling and portaging 130 kilometers in one day would be fun.

Stroke eighteen thousand, four hundred and thirty-nine... | PHOTO: BILL LANNING — Stroke eighteen thousand, four hundred and thirty-nine… | PHOTO: BILL LANNING

Pushing Upstream

Stroke after stroke can get the mind wan- dering. As the dim haze of the evening approached, I reflected on how history has a convoluted way of repeating itself, at least when it comes to canoeing. Marathon distances were the driving element governing success or failure during the frenzy of the fur- trade and exploration era.

In 1828, Sir George Simpson, governor of the Hudson Bay Company, pushed his heavily laden canoe upstream 630 kilometers on the Hayes River in Manitoba, from York Factory to Lake Winnipeg, in six days. Today, the same trip going downstream takes an average of three weeks.

Simpson was known for his physical stamina when traveling through the wilderness. In his day, paddling great distances in a short time meant profit for the company; paddlers were paid to push the limits of endurance. Today, marathon paddling is something entirely different; now, we gladly pay for the opportunity to test our mettle and see if we’re as tough as our forefathers.

Just one of 20 portages.| PHOTO: BILL LANNING

Day’s End

By the time we reached our third and final checkpoint in Port Sydney at 2 a.m., we were just 20 kilometers from the finish line and chilled to the bone. We’d arrived after hours of slogging upstream through shallow rapids. A weak moonlight had illuminated the shore briefly, but once temperatures dropped below freezing the river fog consumed everything. Icy tendrils worked their way down our collars and through our carefully planned layer systems.

The fog thickened until the spotlights affixed to the bow of the canoe were useless and we were forced to feel our way upriver in total darkness. At the checkpoint, we were grateful to warm ourselves by a crackling campfire. Family had come out to cheer us on and while we chatted, rested and snacked, shore-side cottagers cheered other racers as they came and went.

Officials told us close to a third of the teams had quit—some had gotten turned around, some were lost and others were just dead tired and found solace by sleeping in the forest, waiting for sun-up.

With our 24-hour deadline approaching and committed to finishing, we paddled away from the checkpoint’s warmth. But back on the water, it wasn’t long before we started to drift into sleep, paddle in hands.

“It was scary,” Andrea later told me, “it was like falling asleep at the wheel.” We would paddle a few strokes then, leaning on the gunnels, fall half asleep and drift. And we continued that way for some time.

“It was scary,” Andrea later told me, “it was like falling asleep at the wheel.” We would paddle a few strokes then, leaning on the gunnels, fall half asleep and drift. And we continued that way for some time.

It was the brightening sky in the east that revitalized us. We spent the last hour of the race in a sprint, J-stroke and all. We crossed the finish line just as the sun peaked over the horizon, 14 minutes inside of the 24-hour cut-off. Exhaustion was forgotten in the excitement of success. Aside from the race coordinators, there was little fanfare. Most of the teams wait- ed for a post-race breakfast at a nearby restaurant, and we wasted no time in joining them.

Lost and found. | PHOTO: COURTESY GREG GOULTER/ALGONQUIN OUTFITTERS

Damage Report

As I dug into a plate of bacon and eggs, we got the damage report.

By morning, six emergency calls had been placed. Two were from SPOT panic buttons, one due to a shoulder injury and another because of exhaustion. Three teams also called for assistance via cell phone, due to being lost or exhausted.

“The sixth team was heading in the wrong direction and we were watching them on the live tracker and sent a team to intercept them,” said Varieur. “Only one person was taken to the hospital, and that was for pre-cautionary measures.”

Blowing away even the race organizers’ expectations, veteran marathon paddlers Bob Vincent, 71, and bow mate Dean Brown, won first place, clocking in at 14 hours and 12 minutes.

“Our plan was to never stop paddling except for the portages,” says Vincent of their strategy. Even snacking was done in shifts.

And while Andrea and I didn’t come in first, we did receive an award of our own—we won the prize for most gear carried. Trippers to the bone, our three-day supply of food, hot coffee and gear had not gone unnoticed.

Post-breakfast, paddlers shared stories of their difficulties and successes on route—tales of rugged portages, exhaustion-induced hallucinations and hidden river entrances. We talked about why we had signed up this year and why, even though many had sworn just hours prior that they’d never do it again, most of us probably will.

It was a kayaker, Allyson McDonald, who summed it up best: “If you’re not moving, then you’re dying.”

Aside from the occasional gig playing advisor to Hollywood, teaching Pierce Brosnan how to throw a knife and paddle a canoe, Hap Wilson is an author and artist. Over his four decades spent as a writer and researcher, he has published 12 books. www.hapwilson.com.

This article originally appeared in Canoeroots and Family Camping, Spring 2014. Subscribe to Paddling Magazine’s print and digital editions here, or download the Paddling Magazine app and browse the digital archives here.

Kayak: A Repair Saga, Part II

Skills

Words & Photos: Dene Berman — Kayak: A Repair Saga, Part II

Some boat repairs are of the on-water emergency variety; other fixes may allow for minor gelcoat touch-ups done at one’s leisure. This story is about one boat so badly damaged that it was thought to be beyond repair.

Don’t miss the first installment of Dene Berman’s two-part repair guide—where we look at making structural fiberglass repairs and beginning to mend spider cracks.

Spider Cracks

What is needed is a waterproof bonding agent that will adhere to the fiberglass and the existing gelcoat, expanding and contracting with temperature changes at the same rate as the gelcoat. Material of this sort is referred to as a fairing compound, and can be shaped to blend in with the surrounding areas. The repaired area can then be determined to be “fair” to one’s eye and touch.

Unable to find a satisfactory compound, I contacted the traditional source for all things needed to keep a boat supplied – a ship chandlery. Jamestown Distributors in Bristol, Rhode Island, was very helpful. Their fiberglass repair specialist knew just the right product to recommend. I took his advice and purchased Quikfair fairing compound by System Three. This product contains microbaloons, hollow glass micro-spheres that help create a strong yet lightweight fairing compound. This two-part epoxy putty is intended for use above or below the waterline, has a pot life of 10 minutes and can be sanded in a few hours. I mixed small, golf-ball sized batches, and used auto body putty spreaders to apply the mixture. The result looked like I was frosting a cake.

Sanding

Removing the excess fairing compound is a matter of sanding. Lots of it. Start with an orbital sander and 80-grit paper and work toward 220-grit. The goal is to use the original gelcoat as the guide for when to stop sanding. While that yielded rough results, it also revealed holidays, or missed spots, in the outcome as well as ridges and valleys in the finish. Nevertheless, the overall outcome of this stage was beginning to take the shape of an intact boat.

Priming and Painting

My neighbor Dave is a car body paint expert who, out of his van, goes around to car dealers, making the finish of cars look as near to new as possible. We talked about the right products to use, settling on two-component acrylic finishes that are appropriate for surfaces like auto bumpers – strong, resilient and weatherproof. We started with a primer coat that revealed many of the imperfections that made my fairing compound not quite so fair to the eye. This was followed by the use of thin coats of the fairing compound and lots of detailed sanding, even to the point of removing much of the primer.

Next was the final paint stage of painting the hull and deck. We chose Spies-Hecker two-component acrylic urethane mixing colors, scale-weighed to tenths of grams, to which bonding and curing agents are added. For the finish coats, lots of thin coats are sprayed, with light sanding, close inspection, minor adjustments and more spraying. The process may seem easy, but involved masking off areas of the boat and finding the right colors – we started with the NDK color chart and modified from there. Waiting for the right temperatures, putting the boat inside during the rain, getting out the propane heaters when the temperature plunged, re-doing the mixture when the yellow hull was too translucent… Seeing Dave with his spray gun was like watching magic as he transformed the boat into a shining gem.

Final Touches

Repaired and painted, the boat needed only new hatch covers, stickers, deck lines and bungees to complete the transformation. With the help of suppliers and friends, what had been a rotting hull held prisoner for years is now a sleek craft that again awaits the spring thaw to carve beautiful lines in the water. This project is proof that an avid kayaker can resurrect a lost cause into a sea-worthy, beautiful craft. -Dene Berman

Reel Paddling Film Festival 2014 Winners

8f609099d27941bf7851e7634da2ac60_XL — Reel Paddling Film Festival 2014 Winners

The 9^th annual Reel Paddling Film Festival premiered this month in Toronto at the Royal Cinema. The Complete Paddler hosted the largest premiere audience in festival history raising a whopping $1,500 for the charity, Project Canoe. Rapid Media founder Scott MacGregor emceed the red canvas carpet event screening this year’s award-winning and shortlisted films.

This year’s winners are:

Creek Boater –WHITEWATER PADDLING Kim Becker day dreams about her favorite thing: kayaking.  Director: Kelsey Thompson | Producer: Lee Visual
Have Kids, Will Paddle –CANOEING Dan, his wife Alice Young Clark, with their kids Koby, age five, and three-year-old Ava Fei, leave real life behind for a 100-day northern adventure. Director and Producer: Dan Clark
Kayak Free Kayaking –SHORT Trip Deacon attempts to kayak down Lombard Street in San Francisco…without a kayak. Director: John Dabrowski | Producer: Mark Odlum and John Dabrowski
iAfrica –STANDUP PADDLING An adventure to southern Africa pushes the limits of whitewater SUP.  Director and Producer: Corran Addison
STAND –ENVIRONMENTAL STAND takes viewers to the core of the Enbridge Northern Gateway pipeline issue while unfurling the soul of B.C.’s west coast, one paddle stroke at a time. Director and Producer: Anthony Bonello and Nicolas Teichrob
Paddle to the Ocean –SEA KAYAKING Zac Crouse tours his album by kayak from Ottawa to Halifax while examining the stigma associated with mental illness and benefits of physical activity and music. Director: Kelsey Thompson | Producer: Zac Crouse
The Old Man and the Sea: The Expedition –ADVENTURE TRAVEL Inspired by Hemingway’s  novel, The Old Man and the Sea, Martin Falkind persuades his friends to join him on a marlin kayak fishing trip in the Pacific Ocean. Director: Björn Tjärnberg | Producer: Maria Alander
Why We Fish –KAYAK FISHING Renowned big game kayak angler and host of The Kayak Fishing Show, Jim Sammons, explains what drives him to travel the world in search of the next big bite. Director: Kelsey Thompson | Producer: Ken Whiting
Everyday Push –DOCUMENTARY Mike Conneen’s journey through addiction and life in a wheelchair, as well as his love and passion for kayak fishing.  Director: Rob DeVore | Producer: Rob DeVore and Mike Conneen
Handling Emergency Situations –INSTRUCTIONAL PADDLING A dramatic series of true-life emergency scenarios led by top  sea kayaker Gordon Brown and the rescue professionals of the U.K. coastguard and lifeboat services. Director and Producer: Simon Willis

The RPFF World Tour is an international film tour screening in 110 cities. To bring the World Tour to your paddling town, shop, club, theatre or event, visit www.reelpaddlingfilmfestival.com or contact RPFF Coordinator Robyn Plantinga at (613) 706-0677 x104 or [email protected].

Will Ferrell and Robert Redford battle over Colorado River

Photo: Screen capture "Raise the River vs. Move the Ocean. Full Story." — Will Ferrell and Robert Redford battle over Colorado River

Will Ferrell, Robert Redford and Kelly Slater have joined forces with Raise the River to help “bring the Colorado River back to life.”

Ferrell posted the video, in which he and Redford hurl insults back and forth, to his 9.1 million Facebook fans last week, writing “Redford and I have very different plans to fix the Colorado River Delta problem.”

The “debate” is over the waterway American Rivers named the America’s Most Endangered River in 2013, explaining the “demand on the river’s water now exceeds its supply, leaving the river so over-tapped that it dries up to a trickle before reaching the sea.”

Learn more about Raise the River, the project this video supports.

Explore the Google Street View of the Colorado River, which Google Maps and American Rivers launched just last week.

Video: Have Kids, Will Paddle

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=59121018

Video: Dan Clark

If planning the next family vacation makes you sweat, settle in for a 3,400-kilometer, three-month family canoe journey from Jasper, Alberta, to the Arctic Ocean at Tuktoyaktuk, Northwest Territories. Dan and his wife Alice Young Clark, left their jobs, home and community along with their two kids, Koby, age five, and three-year-old Ava Fei, for a 100-day northern adventure.

“We go on wilderness trips to escape our civilized world, to strengthen our family bond, and to get grounded in nature,” explains Clark.

Read the feature on this family adventure in Canoeroots and Family Camping magazine on your desktop here.

This film is a 2014 Reel Paddling Film Festival award-winning film. The RPFF World Tour is an international film tour screening in 110 cities. Bring the World Tour to your paddling town, shop, club, theatre or event by contacting [email protected].

Director and Producer: Dan Clark

Website: www.tcmcare.ca/family/Clark/Welcome

History of Kayaks

Videos

This entertaining film tells the remarkable and romantic 43-year history of Eddyline Kayaks, as well as the 5,000-year-old story of kayaking itself. Learn about the resourceful people who built the first kayaks, watch a modern thermoform kayak take shape from a few sheets of shiny plastic, see retro footage from the early days of modern kayaking, and enjoy the love story that is central to Tom and Lisa Derrer’s family-owned kayak company.

Kokatat Cap Gear Review

Gear

Photo: Virginia Marshall — Kokatat Cap Gear Review

Sure to be the envy of ancient Egyptian kings and sun-scorched paddlers alike, Kokatat’s take on the pharaoh cap does more than just cover your head—it creates a microclimate of cool shade. Made from lightweight UPF 30+ rated fabric, the Convertible Cap sports a wide folding brim; mesh vent panels and sweatband; and a removable, well-ventilated headdress that provides unrivaled sun protection for your neck, ears and face.

$45 | www.kokatat.com

Click here to read about more hot new gear and watch exclusive video reviews in the free digital edition of Adventure Kayak, Spring 2014, or download our free app for iPad/iPhone/iPod Touch or Android.