Katadyn Hiker Pro Gear Review

Gear

Photo: Kaydi Pyette — Katadyn Hiker Pro Gear Review

Don’t be put off by its name; the Katadyn Hiker Pro is as appropriate for backcountry paddlers as it is for those pounding out miles on the trail.

The Hiker Pro is a pump water filter that is compact, light and reliable. It’s a step up from the older Vario model that I used for years. I used to spend quite a bit of time at the shoreline, pumping away, only to be rewarded with what felt like too few liters in my canteen. The Hiker Pro is lighter, smaller and pumps water much faster—a win all around.

At only 11 ounces and about the size of a 500ml Nalgene bottle, it takes up a small amount of space. It’s also durable, which I can attest to after having both dropped it and sat on it with no injury to its tough plastic shell. Setup and connection of its hoses is simple and straightforward.

The Hiker Pro pre-filter at the hose inlet filters debris down to 150 microns in size, removing larger contaminants, like dirt and grit, before they reach the main filter to increase its life span. The cartridge filter physically removes particles, protozoa and bacteria, down to 0.3 microns in size. No need to worry about nasty bacteria or parasites like giardia, salmonella and cryptosporidium. Thanks to an activated-carbon core, odors and that sometimes-suspect “lakey” taste are minimized.

If pumping water feels like a chore, you’ll pump less of it and that’s a recipe for dehydration. In under a minute, or about 48 pump strokes, this filter provides a liter of water. It’s perfect for a twosome, or a bigger group if everyone is willing to take a turn pumping.

According to Katadyn, you can expect your cartridge to clean up to 1,150 liters of water in its lifetime, depending on the condition of the water. Translation: If you’re filtering five liters of water a day, expect 230 field days out of the Hiker Pro. That’s not bad.

The trick to extending the life of your filter is to remove the cartridge from the plastic housing, clean it after each trip and store everything separately. This might sound like common sense, but it can be easy to forget to do in cleaning the slew of gear after a backcountry trip. Leaving the unit as one piece and expecting it to dry out in a storage bin over the winter can leave with you with some pretty funky water come spring that probably shouldn’t be ingested. It was this mistake that necessitated the purchase of a new filter for me—but I couldn’t be happier with the Hiker Pro. Unless it did the pumping for me.

Daily Photo: Ordering Up Sunshine

Photo: Doug and Brenda Roberts — Daily Photo: Ordering Up Sunshine

April showers brings May flowers on Potter Lake in Algonquin Park, Ontario.

This photo was taken by Doug and Brenda Roberts. Want to see your photo here? Send to [email protected] with subject line Daily Photo.

Daily Photo: Jump In

e507e52f15f6dcaa8a5b29f3ec880bf5_XL — Photo: Goh Iromoto

Goh Iromoto joined a sailing mothership tour to explore and photograph the island archipelagos of Lake Superior’s north shore. “This little cove on Thompson Island leaves some of the best memories of the trip,” says the Toronto-based outdoor photographer, citing a beautiful sunrise, traditional sauna, scenic hike overlooking the cove and dinner around the campfire with a community of boaters from nearby Thunder Bay. “Probably one of Ontario’s best hidden gems.”

Location: Lake Superior, Ontario

This image originally appeared in the Summer/Fall 2013 issue of Adventure Kayak. To see more stunning paddling photography, download our free iPad/iPhone/iPod Touch App or Android App or read it here.

Want to see your image in our Daily Photo? Send to [email protected].

Editorial: Right of Passage

Stories

Photo: Virginia Marshall — Editorial: Right of Passage

“You’re supposed to keep emergency stuff on you, right?” Po asks as we finish packing the kayaks. Pressing a hatch cover into place, I smile, pleased that she has remembered our discussion on ditch kits and survival principles. “Yeah, always…” I glance up and trail off as I watch her carefully stashing a wad of toilet paper in her PFD pocket.

I was once a beginner, too. New to paddling and out of my depth, I had plenty of clumsy, awkward and embarrassing moments. Some I look back on and chuckle. Others I just shake my head—what was I thinking?

Most experts agree: I wasn’t. There’s a tremendous amount of information to absorb even in an entry-level kayaking class. Pedagogical theory recognizes that most new paddlers are struggling to simply remember and imitate. Critical thinking and problem solving come much, much later, when the miles and hours have accumulated into that ultimate mentor: experience.

Silly mistakes are bound to occur when we’re learning. Most will be harmless—like the November camping trip where I packed juicy, softball-sized navel oranges for breakfast and awoke in the morning to find my hatch filled with frozen citrus kettlebells. At least we had ballast for the rest of the trip, should we have needed it.

Or the unfortunate skills certification course where I kept blowing my roll because I’d forgotten to relieve myself before we left the beach and could think of nothing but this now incredibly urgent need. Still, despite the occasional forehead-slapping faux pas, new pad- dlers are both the future of our sport and, often, among its most active and ardent supporters. You don’t need to be an old salt to start a club, organize a shoreline cleanup or advocate for water trails.

First-time sea kayakers Paul Manning-Hunter, Spencer Taft and Daniel Robb had never paddled tidal waters or performed a surf land- ing before their eight-day expedition to British Columbia’s remote Great Bear Rainforest (“A Better Adventure,” page 48). Their inexpe- rience may have cost them a ruined satellite phone and soggy charts. But the three friends not only found their stride in their unfamiliar craft, they returned with stories, images and the makings of a film so they could share their discoveries and encourage celebration and conservation of this threatened wilderness.

Paddling back to the put-in after a thoroughly successful day on the water, Po tells me she’d like to buy her own kayak and explore her local lake. I’m thrilled. The instructor/guide in me rattles off a list of things she’ll need to go along with her new boat.“And you should get a paddle float for solo paddling,” I finish.

She looks perplexed,“Don’t all paddles float?”

Editor Virginia Marshall has many more stories of awkward paddling moments. Buy her a chocolate milk sometime and she’ll tell you a few.

This article originally appeared in Adventure Kayak, Early Summer 2013. Download our free iPad/iPhone/iPod Touch App or Android App or read here for free.

The Dirt on Crowdfunding

Stories

Photo: Fredrik Marmsater — The Dirt on Crowdfunding

It used to be when someone wanted to film an expedition or design a kayak, their avenue to success involved only sacrifice and determination. They might’ve saved money, quit their job and reached out to friends, family, sponsors or even the bank for financial support. Then they’d go out and humbly attempt to fulfill their dream. Except in the most audacious cases, the public was never privy to their project until after the fact.

People still do this today, but like most everything else in our ultra-connected, social networked world, the Internet is rapidly changing things. Take San Francisco-based paddler Anton Willis, who was inspired by origami as a way to make a folding kayak for storage in his apartment. He started with paper models and progressed to corrugated plastic signboard. After making more than 20 full-size prototypes he came up with a 12-foot light-tourer that folds up to the size of a sofa cushion.

Sensing his design had broader appeal, Willis made a pitch to the world on Kickstarter, a crowdfunding website, last November. Within weeks he raised over $440,000 in seed money from 730 backers, and his ORU Kayak was featured in Fast Company magazine and on CNN.

Willis is a poster child for the massive potential of Kickstarter, which launched to support independent “creative work” in 2009 and has generated over half a billion dollars in pledges to date. Aspiring entrepreneurs, inventors and creative-minded adventurers set a fundraising goal and deadline, pitch their idea in words and video, promote it on social media and hope for donations. The project is funded only if the entire goal is met. Backers act on faith and get nothing in return for their donation except for feel-good karma and perhaps a piece of memorabilia—or in the case of ORU Kayaks, discounted prices and first-run shipping for those willing to ante up the full cost of a new boat.

“We had initially looked for an angel investment but it seemed like people were put off by the [small] size of the market,” says Willis. “Kickstarter was a fantastic tool for us. It lets you tout a product and establish a niche market.”

Even with funding in place, Willis had only a moral obligation to deliver—such is the risk backers assume in supporting a crowdfunded project. Inevitably, this has led to several colossal flops, including a failed solo bike expedition in 2012 that wasted over $10,000 in sup- port. However, Alaska-based kayak-building enthusiast David Mi- chael Karabelnikoff says selling a dream to the world puts that much more emphasis on following through.

“It’s definitely taking a leap into the unknown in a public way,” says Karabelnikoff, whose Kickstarter campaign to develop a 3D printing process to rebuild traditional Arctic kayaks and inspire Native youth failed to reach its $25,000 goal in May. “As one of our early backers said, we threw everything we had into it and therefore no matter what the outcome we were committed, and will learn as a result.”

Of course, relying on Kickstarter isn’t an excuse for lazy planning and execution. Portland, Oregon-based sea kayakers Jason Self, Chris Bensch and Shay Bickley raised nearly $11,000 through Kickstarter to fund The Search for the Perfect Day, a series of paddling and filming expeditions to California, Florida and Hawaii that will evolve into a video series. “ The 30-day Kickstarter campaign took several years of strategic planning to execute properly,” says Self. “We had thousands of contacts and several sponsors at the ready with thousands of their own followers to receive our requests. Without this in place we never would have met our goal.

“I can’t say that the Kickstarter process was enjoyable…raising money is hard, hard work. As my boss said after he saw the bags under our eyes, it would have been easier to get another real job.”

This article first appeared in Adventure Kayak, Early Summer 2013. Download our free iPad/iPhone/iPod Touch App or Android App or read here for free.

Visionary Missionaries

Stories

Photo: Dave Quinn — Visionary Missionaries

Recently, international development workers have identified a new and surprisingly effective tool: the kayak.

As a sea kayak guide who spends much of my time working in the Arctic or overseas, I am well acquainted with the remarkable way in which our crafts glide smoothly through linguistic, social, physical and economic barriers. But in early 2012, my jaw hit the deck when I saw a volunteer posting for kayak instructors to work on a development project in Tanzania.

I applied for and got the posting, and in May headed to East Africa to share my kayaking skills with instructors at the National College of Tourism (NCT) in the bustling coastal city and commercial capital of Dar es Salaam.

For this final stage of a three-year, Canadian International Development Agency (CIDA)-funded partnership with the College of the Rockies in British Columbia, NCT had requested help developing marine tourism modules for their Tourism Diploma program, including kayak training for their instructors.

The request fit in neatly with the partnership’s aim to help Tanzania diversify their tourism products. Home to half of the world’s remaining wild lions and the two largest protected areas in Africa, Tanzania is well known amongst ecotourists for inland attractions like Serengeti National Park, Ngorongoro Crater, Gombe Chimp Park and Mount Kilimanjaro. But other than the history-rich Spice Island of Zanzibar, there is little in the way of developed tourism along the endless white sand beaches and crystal clear waters of the country’s Swahili Coast. Dynamite fishing threatens Tanzania’s world-class reefs and marine life, and tourism is seen as a way for locals to put a different value on marine resources.

Aside from the challenges of shifting a resource harvesting-based economy to one built on conservation and tourism, we faced another daunting hurdle. Tanzanians are terrified of water. In a country where hippos, crocodiles and tropical parasites plague inland waters, young children are taught that entering the water equals certain death. Few people swim, including our would-be kayak instructor counterparts. Our kayak and snorkel program evolved on the spot into a just-get- wet and learn to swim program.

Easing the instructors into a hotel pool made us doubt whether we’d ever actually get anyone seated in CIDA’s secret weapons. At pool’s edge, 12 pairs of eyes, wide with terror, looked dubiously at the tranquil water. Finally, one brave soul stepped in, and soon it was like summer camp.

We graduated to a safe beach for more swim practice and, finally, paddling. The program supplied NCT with sit-on-top kayaks, pad- dles and all necessary safety gear. We spent eight days practicing basic strokes and rescues and enjoying the stellar paddling and marine life of the Indian Ocean.

Nine months later, I was back in Tanzania to conduct follow-up training, introducing basic instruction skills. The same men and women who had trembled at the sight of a swimming pool less than a year before now led me eagerly to favorite paddling sites they had discovered along the coast.

With a little help, Tanzanians are embracing a bright future, one built not on the old adage “ Teach a man to fish…” but on a new, inspired wisdom that begins with,“Teach a person to kayak…”

This article first appeared in Adventure Kayak, Early Summer 2013. Download our free iPad/iPhone/iPod Touch App or Android App or read here for free.

100 Years on the Water

Stories

Courtesy: Old Town Canoes and Kayaks — Old Ad from Old Town

In Rapid Media’s 2014 Paddling Buyer’s Guide, there’s no shortage of choice. Short boats, long boats, folding and inflatable boats, standup boards for idling, surfing, racing and rapid shooting—and all made from a cornucopia of space-age materials and presented in every shape and color imaginable.

What’s nothing short of amazing is that with the wide-ranging preferences and predilections of the current paddlesports marketplace, you can still buy a canvas-covered wooden canoe essentially unchanged in more than a century of service. Yes, you too can have a premium-grade, 16-foot Old Town OTCA for $7,599.99. Fiberglass skin is $200 extra, plus tax and shipping.

Back in 1925, an OTCA sold for about $50. The exact price depended on a variety of options, including length, color, finish, sponsons, outside stems, floor racks, canoe seats, middle thwart, long decks, half ribs and sailing accouterments.

Adjusting the 88-year-old price tag in today’s dollars using the consumer price index, that boat would be $663.50. A tremendous deal and a far cry from what is now demanded for a fancy throwback double-ender. In today’s market, it’s the labor costs that push the price through the roof. Nevertheless, the OTCA and others of its ilk have survived.

And while I find it harder to imagine a buyer in the year 2100 flipping through some e-catalogue, telepathically delivered of course, and picking out a standup paddleboard that’s essentially unchanged since 2014, I can envision the venerable wood and canvas canoe still quietly plying the waters.

Regardless of manufacturer, length, material, weight, style, history or price, the essence of self-propelled recreation persists and is as relevant today as it was when the whole concept of leisure came along as a happy consequence of the industrial revolution. Canoes, kayaks, boards—hell, even improvised craft like Huck Finn’s raft—still offer their paddlers and polers a chance to get on the water, to connect to a river or shoreline and to participate in an activity that is as old as North America itself.

In 1925, the average life expectancy for men was 57.6 years and for women 60.6 years. Today, we can expect to live 20 years longer and many of us choose to spend it immersed in the happiness found in the rhythm and camaraderie of silent craft.

Looking back at some of the old canoe manufacturers’ catalogues, the range of products on offer is much narrower and the options seem a bit antiquated, however some of the slogans are as apt now as they were back then. In 1919, for example, the Old Town Canoe Company catalogue reflected on the post-WWI era, showing an image of a soldier advancing with bayonet mounted against a montage of paddle, pack, canoe and blanket. The slogan, referring to the Allies victory in WWI, says, “Outdoor life did it,” meaning that the strength of mind, body and spirit of a young person heading into conflict was shaped by the paddling experience.

In 1920 and 1921, the bristle of that sentiment was softened to “Old Town Canoes for outdoor vigor.” And, in 1922, my favorite, beneath a happy couple on the water in a handsome canvas-covered canoe, the slogan reads, “Waterways for pleasure days.”

More than ninety years later and the sentiment is equally as true. Happy shopping.

This article first appeared in Rapid Media’s 2014 Paddling Buyer’s Guide. Download our free iPad/iPhone/iPod Touch App or Android App or read it on your desktop here.

Daily Photo: Across Canada

Cross Canada Canoe Odyssey lines boats down the shallow North Saskatchewan River in Banff National Park on their journey from Vancouver, BC to St John, New Brunswick.

This photo is was taken by Nathalie and submitted as part of the Canadian Hertiage Rivers Photo Contest. Want to see your photo here? Send to [email protected] with subject line Daily Photo.

Modern Day Explorer

Courtesy: Adam Shoalts — Adam Shoalts on the Again River.

These days, it’s not often that explorers change maps. Even less common that the vehicle of discovery is a canoe. But that’s just what happened in 2012, when Adam Shoalts discovered seven previously unknown waterfalls, accidently paddling over the edge of one in the process.

This past summer, he returned to the 100-kilometer long Again River, which straddles the border between Ontario and Quebec, with funding from the Royal Canadian Geographical Society to properly document his discoveries.

Shoalts, a McMasters University PhD student, says the same things that have always inspired explorers motivate him. “The love of adventure, the thrill of discovery, my innate curiosity and a thirst for knowledge” is what keeps him going, he says.

While maps of the Again River did exist prior, they were based on aerial images taken in the 1950s and weren’t entirely accurate. Returning to document his discoveries meant measuring the height and exact location of each waterfall, information that Shoalts will then use to correct the existing topographical maps of the area.

“I had originally thought this might be possible without the need of a second expedition—but the satellite imagery was so poor that it proved impossible to positively distinguish each waterfall from the many rapids and the existing topographic maps were equally inadequate for this task,” he says.

His journey took him back to a varied landscape—from flat, boggy lowlands dominated by black spruce to rocky hills, cliffs, and small canyons with cedar, pine and birch trees. The river itself is mostly shallow and rocky.

“I like to joke that I spend more time dragging my canoe through swampy forest, thick bush or across muskeg than I ever do paddling it,” Shoalts says. Without trails in the thick forest, portaging a canoe overhead is not feasible and dragging is typically a much better option, he adds. “Bill Mason famously remarked that anyone who tells you they enjoy portaging is either a liar or crazy—I guess that makes me crazy.”

Shoalts comes by his passion honestly, having spent a lot of time in the outdoors as a child. “My backyard was literally a forest. My first adventures were exploring those woods with my dog and my twin brother.” At the age of 13 he read Farley Mowat’s novel Lost in the Barrens and he was hooked on the ideas of wilderness adventure. Studying the history of exploration and Canadian geography more seriously enabled him to transition to serious geographic expeditions with concrete objectives.

For the blood and sweat he left behind, Shoalts leaves a legacy of accurate maps of the Again River. The Royal Canadian Geographical Society will also be publishing Shoalts’ official report, the only description of the river ever written.

Shoalts hopes his expedition will inspire other would-be explorers. “I do hope, in some small way, that the expedition helps more people realize that the age of exploration is not over and that there is still lots to explore in our world,” he says.

This article first appeared in the November 2013 issue of Paddling Magazine.

Seattle Sports Go!Cart Gear Review

A review of the Seattle Sports Go! Cart from Adventure Kayak magazine.

Seattle Sports

Go! Cart

Combining Seattle Sports’ super heavy-duty All-Terrain Center Cart (ATC) with a tow bar for trailering behind a bicycle, the Go! Cart is ideal for long rides with heavy loads. The rear hub-mounted tow bar adjusts to support kayaks up to 15 feet long, or strap a tote on the cart’s wide, flat frame and use it as an all-purpose trailer for gear hauling and even grocery getting. A spring-loaded kickstand makes loading and unloading a breeze. While the Go! Cart does dismantle for storage, the mile-chewing, 16-inch wheels and 20-pound steel frame mean it’s better left locked up with your bike.

Versatility: ★★★★★

Portability: ★★★

Stability: ★★★★★

$230 | www.seattlesportsco.com

This article originally appeared in Adventure Kayak, Summer/Fall 2013. To read more kayak cart reviews and watch an exclusive video review, download our free iPad/iPhone/iPod Touch App or Android App or read it here for free.