Paddle Your Own Epic

Stories

Photo: Dave Fusilli — Paddle Your Own Epic

It’s day eight and we’ve reached Lava Falls, arguably the largest rapid in the Grand Canyon. Overhead, the sun is blinding. The canyon is a chameleon and has changed its look again, opening up to a panoramic desert view. Just yesterday, we were paddling with icicles forming on our helmets. The cold front that lingered for days is f inally gone. As we float closer, our anticipation heightens. Most of us take the scenic hike up river right to scout. Even from up here, it still looks big. After watching a few in the group style the rapid, the rest of us head down to our respective boats. One after another, we peel out.

Any self-supported kayak trip, let alone one down the Grand Canyon, is an adventure of a lifetime. Although more common in recent years, remote multi-day whitewater trips are still a relative rarity amongst everyday paddlers and are usually reserved for epic first descents in far-off destinations. There are many rivers in the United States perfect for a multi-day trip, and it’s easier than you might think. In January, I paddled the Grand Canyon self-supported—instead of having rafts or larger crafts haul gear, we packed our kayaks to the brim with everything needed for weeks on the water, and I do mean everything. It’s not just paddling gear and rescue gear, but food and a cook stove, tents and sleeping bags, and, everyone’s least favorite, the groover. Once you’ve established your route, here’s how to do everything else.

Heavy Hitter

The first step is to find your vessel. Look for a crossover boat. My boat of choice was the Pyrahna Fusion, a whitewater boat that allowed me to pack 20 gallons of gear in a dry storage hatch in the stern, fit a little more in the bow and still paddled well.

Even with such a big load, your kayak will handle fine, but you will feel the additional weight. What you lose in maneuverability, you’ll make up for with driving force. You’ll feel like you can blast through any rapid. The Colorado is big water with relatively few obstacles. There are certainly some large holes, but for the most part it’s large waves—perfect for a loaded boat. Since the rapids don’t require too much maneuvering, we were able to paddle the river with our skegs down. The skeg, traditionally used for staying straight and fast in flatwater, proved to be equally useful in the rapids.

Chow Down

Expect to work on a self-supported trip and pack for burning extra calories. Kayakers usually paddle in 10 to 14 days what rafts take upwards of 20 days to do. Add in the amazing side hikes and you know your entire body is going to be fatigued by day’s end. Proper nutrition and hydration becomes of utmost importance to ensure you don’t become a liability to your group members.

As for what kind of food to bring, think classic river snacks. You need items that can be packed into your boat as efficiently as pos- sible. Lightweight, non-perishable items are the target. Peanut butter, oatmeal, bagels, tortilla wraps, jerky, dried fruit, trail mix, rice and bean packets, pasta and Clif bars are just a few common items. Blocks of cheese, tuna and dehydrated meats are also good choices. Watch out for spoilage in meats and cheeses, especially if you’re paddling in summer.

While everything mentioned above will certainly get you through breakfast and lunch, for dinner it’s nice to have something warm and flavorful. Dehydrated meals popular amongst backpackers are great—when you roll into camp tired from the day and still have to unpack your boat and set up your tent, you’ll be happy to have them. Just boil water and dinner is served.

Water, Water Everywhere

While having the proper amount of food is imperative, staying hydrated is your other primary concern. For group trips, gravity filters are becoming more popular because they’re efficient and simple to use. Simply fill up the bladder, then hang it on a tree branch and let the water be filtered into your water bottle via a hose. No need to stand by the water’s edge, pumping away. Whichever filtration method you use, ensure you know how to properly use and maintain it before venturing out. Bring a flavored drink mix to add as well, it’ll be a welcomed addition each day.

Staying Comfortable

For me, paddling the canyon in January meant dealing with cold temperatures. In fact, it was some of the coldest weather the canyon had seen in years. Luckily, we were prepared. Down coats, down booties, beanies, gloves, several pairs of wool socks and off-river pants were all essential pieces of clothing. Everyone wore union suits as a base layer. Remember, however, that you only have so much room in the kayak, so choose clothes wisely. Invest in a compression stuff sack for your clothes, it’ll save precious space that will be needed for other gear.

Paddling Gear

As for paddling gear, take the basics. Keep in mind, space needs to be set aside for extra paddles and extra PFDs. Paddling in January meant a good dry suit was essential. Between paddling through large volume rapids and going on hikes that required wading through ponds of water, the dry suit made all the difference. Tucked in the canyon, direct sunlight can be elusive. Getting wet would have meant serious discomfort, and even hypothermia.

Camping Gear

While your food and clothing take up plenty of space, you still need to fit in your camping gear. This is the part of packing that requires the most planning and coordinating. Not everyone in the group needs to bring his own tent. Paddlers can double up and split the gear between them when on the water. Even with the chilly weather, many of us couldn’t help but sleep out under the stars. Bring a high- quality sleeping pad—after a long day on the water you’ll be happy you did. Cooking equipment, including pots, pans, stoves and gas, are other items that can be shared.

If paddling in a national park you’ll be required to carry specific items for both your safety, as well as for the safety of the fragile ecosystem you are entering. Having fires is permitted, but they have to be contained in a collapsible fire pan and placed on a special fire blanket to prevent leaving ash behind. Water buckets and bleach provide a dishwashing station each day. And, of course, a compre- hensive first aid kit needs to be on hand.

Shit Tubes

The largest and most cumbersome item each one of us brought along was the human waste container—the groover. In the canyon you are required to pack out everything that you take into the park—all trash, ash from the fires, food particles and even human waste. This is common in sensitive ecosystems that see lots of traffic. The custom-made PVC tubes that each of us brought were the largest space-takers. Designed and built by a fellow trip member, these containers were placed between paddler’s knees and strapped down to a custom-made foam mount while paddling. The containers only got heavier as the days went by. Only semi-affectionately referred to as shit tubes, these containers were the source of much laughter and discussion. We were all pleasantly surprised that our custom-made tubes worked so well—they’re not a piece of gear you want to see malfunction. Since each person was responsible for his or her own groover, it made the entire process a much more sanitary and private matter.

Fitting It In

Unfortunately, there’s no perfect way to pack your boat and finding the best method is largely trial and error. Each morning is like play- ing a new game of Tetris. With that said, there are some basic ways to go about it. Start with the big items. It may feel like a bit of a wrestling match, but once larger items are in the boat you can fill up the empty space with all the smaller, miscellaneous items. Your boat will get heavy in a hurry. Our fully loaded boats weighed anywhere from 200 to 300 pounds at the start of the trip. Once packed, it took two people to carry the boats to shore. Focus on evenly distributing the weight in your boat or it won’t sit in the water evenly. If this hap- pens, you’ll likely experience some discomfort all day.

Best 9–5 Grind

Expect to spend a couple hours getting ready each morning. After cooking breakfast, visiting your groover and tearing down sleeping arrangements, you’re ready to get into your gear and begin to repack your kayak.

The Grand Canyon is intersected with amazing hikes, there are more than enough to do one or two a day. For us, that meant pad- dling four hours a day, covering about 20 miles, then taking to the hills. After setting up camp, it was time to relax around the fire pan. As much as we would try and stay up at night, we found that not long after sunset, we were beat. You can be sure that after all of the pack- ing, kayaking, hiking, and then unpacking, you’re in for a sound sleep.

Rob Fusilli paddled the Grand Canyon in January 2013. Look for him this summer guiding on the Youghiogheny River.

This article first appeared in the Summer/Fall 2013 issue of Rapid Magazine. For more great content, subscribe to Rapid’s print and digital editions here

War of the Worlds: 2013 Freestyle World Championships

Stories

Photo: Nick Troutman — War of the Worlds: 2013 Freestyle World Championships

Freestyle kayaking was called rodeo when Eric Jackson, a 29-year-old Olympic slalom paddler, piloted a Dagger Transition through a series of flat spins, enders and pirouettes to win the 1993 world championships at Hell Hole on Tennesee’s Ocoee River. Looking back, the event was pivotal in redefining whitewater. Manufacturers like Dagger, Perception, Prijon, Pyranha and Eskimo created new, rodeo-specific designs specifically for the competition, launching the evolution of playboats; Jackson became a legend; and freestyle was born. “We can credit the growth of whitewater kayaking in the U.S. to the 1993 Worlds to a large degree,” says Jackson.

Jackson expects another inflection point this September when the world’s best freestyle kayakers and canoeists finally return to U.S. soil for the International Canoe Federation’s Freestyle World Championships at Bryson City, in North Carolina’s Nantahala Gorge, September 2 to 8. More than 250 of the top boaters from around the world are expected to compete on a $195,000, custom- built feature called the 2013 Wave.

The weeklong event will showcase the harmony of athleticism and freeform creativity that defines freestyle paddling. The field of competitors is astoundingly deep in both men’s and women’s K1 divisions, as well as open canoe. After preliminary rounds and semi-finals, the world’s best will have three 45-second rides to score points in the finals.

In men’s K1, 2009 world champion Nick Troutman says a routine involving “at least McNasties left and right, phonix monkeys left and right, a couple of either loops or space godzillas and a couple of tricky woos and lunar orbits will be linked at minimum” to win. On the women’s side, defending world champion Claire O’Hara expects to perform a basic routine of loops, felixes and cartwheels, “with McNasties, phonixes, space godzillas and split combos now being the crux moves.” Similarly in OC-1, aerial tricks and combinations such as McNasties, phonixes and maybe even a loop will crown the world champion.

More important than the athletes’ performances, insists Jackson, is the legacy of the 2013 competition. It’s hard to believe it’s been 20 years since the Ocoee rodeo, and harder still to realize that not one biannual world championship
has been held on U.S. soil since. In the meantime, a Jackson dynasty has emerged, freestyle kayak design has morphed and hole- and wave-riding tricks have evolved from rough-edged maneuvers to polished acrobatics. The southeastern U.S. has emerged as a global hotbed of kayak manufacturing and its legion of paddlers is whitewater’s stronghold. “The impact of the world championship being held in North Carolina is going to be huge,” says Jackson. “We, as paddlers, will be better off as the companies focus their energies on making better boats and truly connecting with the sport out on the river again.”

TEAM JACKSON

Perennial favorites at any freestyle event, Jackson Kayaks factory team athletes Eric and Dane Jackson, as well as their in-law, Troutman, could parlay home turf advantage into owning the 2013 men’s K1 podium at Nantahala. Dane enters his first senior world championships having dominated the junior division at the 2011 event with scores that would’ve earned him a top spot amongst the seniors. The diminutive 20-year-old has been likened to a miniature version of his father, Eric, for his innate paddling skills—his ability to throw explosive aerials and link tricks creatively on the fly, while exuding the Jacksons’ trademark competitive spirit. “He’s got more skills than balls,” says Troutman.

Veteran Jackson athlete Stephen Wright, who narrowly missed the cut at the U.S. team trials in late April, says Dane and 2009 world champ Troutman are the obvious paddlers to watch amongst senior men. Troutman, 25, says he’s working on developing the mental fortitude to perform under pressure and is dedicating the summer to getting to know the intricacies of the 2013 Wave. But Wright says don’t discount EJ, 49, who’s looking to win his fifth world championship crown. “EJ always has a chance to win,” says Wright. “He can make magic happen in a lot of situations that people wouldn’t expect. He can focus like nobody else, and he’s really driven by competition.”

On the women’s side, despite a valiant effort, Emily Jackson, then seven months pregnant, failed to make the U.S. team. That means Canadian Ruth Gordon Ebens will anchor Jackson Kayaks’ women’s roster. Gordon Ebens, 32, is a force to be reckoned with—she was runner-up at the 2011 Worlds and turned heads at the 2012 World Cup, scoring an impressive 495-point ride in the finals before finishing fourth overall. “She has the big moves and really performs consistently well at big events,” notes O’Hara, who will be defending her title.

THE WORLD

When British paddlers James Bebbington and O’Hara climbed to the top of the podium in the men’s and women’s K1 competition, respectively, at the 2011 World Championships in Plattling, Germany, it heralded a significant change in the psyche of elite freestyle paddlers. Both brought an Olympic athlete’s formal, highly ritualized training approach to freestyle kayak, as opposed to the freeform, laissez-faire mindset that’s more pervasive in North American paddlers. O’Hara, for instance, spent four years working with a volunteer support crew including two coaches, three video analysis experts, physiotherapists and a masseuse, sports psychologist, personal trainer, and a strength and conditioning trainer. “It used to be you just had to be a boater,” said O’Hara in an interview after her 2011 gold medal performance. “Now you have to be an athlete.”

O’Hara has kept up her rigorous programming and with her main rival, Emily Jackson, out of the competition, she’s a shoe-in to continue her dominance on the women’s side. O’Hara spent the winter and spring training around the world, including Great Britain, Africa, New Zealand and Australia. “She used the past year to travel and paddle, paddle, paddle,” says Gordon Ebens, “and she knows what it takes to be on top.”

O’Hara, 31, put on a clinic at the final 2012 World Cup event at Nantahala, adds Gordon Ebens, hitting high-scoring McNasties and phonixes, notching big-air bonuses and linking moves in combination for a record-setting high score of 633. “I think the key thing is that I need to be ready,” says O’Hara. “I need to get my training in early so that I feel happy with the feature and with my moves and then I can just go out and throw down and enjoy the event.”

Another veteran European, Slovakia’s Nina Csonkova, will challenge O’Hara and Gordon Ebens. Csonkova, who consistently makes the finals of most international events, finished third in the 2012 World Cup, and has been training hard this year, notes O’Hara. “Nina now has the competition experience and knows what it takes to win,” adds Gordon Ebens. “She has the tricks.”

European men tend to focus on precise angles and verticality, compared to the North American tendency to favor big air and linking moves, according to Wright. Besides Bebbington, a big-air threat who finished a disappointing seventh in last year’s World Cup, speedy Spaniard Joaquim Fontane and Pole sharp-shooter Tomasz Czaplicki are contenders on the men’s side. Perhaps the greatest European contender is Slovakian powerhouse Peter Csonka, the defending World Cup champion and Plattling runner-up, who appears poised to take a run at world championship glory. “He’s like a machine,” says Wright. “He’s physically stronger than anyone else and he can wing almost any tricks through strength alone.”

According to Troutman, the growing number of freestyle paddlers from the other side of the pond has made for an excess of medal contenders. “To try to list the top 10 paddlers is impossible now,” he says. “The top contenders are so close to each other, even making semi-finals is becoming a big deal.”

OUTSIDERS

Back for another kick at the can is 39-year-old Ottawa River local Billy Harris, a stalwart on the Canadian freestyle team who has placed as high as second in four previous world championships. “He knows what it takes, how hard you need to train and all the mind games that come with competition,” says Troutman. “But Billy brings more to the team than just experience and age. He has an amazing ability to teach kids…he was one of my biggest mentors.” Another dark horse is all-around boater Jason Craig, who bounced back from a major spinal cord injury to finish a solid third in the final stage of the 2012 World Cup. Craig placed fourth in the highly competitive U.S. team trials in April. And though he’s best known as a video boater with Demshitz, Wright says Mike Patterson showed well at the U.S. team trials and could turn heads in September.

American hopes in the women’s competition will rest with self-proclaimed “paddling nomad” Haley Mills, who parked her RV in North Carolina last winter and demonstrated her mastery of the 2013 Wave by winning the U.S. team trials in less than optimal high-water conditions. Mills finished fifth in 2011 in Plattling. “She’s learning the competitive ways,” says Gordon Ebens, “and this solid winter of training might be what she needed to get on top.”

UP AND COMERS

Future stars like Canadian Adam Chappell, Briton Bren Orton, and Ireland’s Billy Brett and David McClure will make their first appearances in the senior K1 division this year. Chappell impressed in last year’s Canadian team trials, says Troutman, but he’ll need to demonstrate his outstanding skills consistently and under pressure through multiple rounds of competition. The same goes for Orton, whom Wright describes as a prodigy with the ability to come up with high-scoring combinations off the cuff.

Two French paddlers could make waves in the women’s competition. Marlene Devillez is the defending European champion and is known for throwing huge tricks when the chips are down. Whitewater Grand Prix 2012 champ and former junior freestyle gold medalist, Nouria Newman’s “raw paddling talent” makes her a threat in any kayaking discipline, according to O’Hara. More of a long shot, young Japanese boater Hitomi Takaku could also turn heads.

OPEN BOATERS

Even the top athletes will admit that OC-1 freestyle is largely a crapshoot, with huge potential for dark-horse boaters coming out of the woodwork and putting up big rides. “OC-1 has more of an element of randomness than the decked boats,” says veteran competitor and game-changing Blackfly Canoes designer Jeremy Laucks, “so it can really be anyone’s game.”This bodes well for Canadians Matt Cuccaro and Vincent Dupont.

With only two spots on the U.S. team up for grabs, Laucks and 2012 World Cup champ Seth Chappelle were unseeded by Dane Jackson and Jordan Poffenberger. Laucks says Poffenberger has been at the forefront of OC-1’s rapid progression by hitting tough, high-scoring moves like McNasties, and Jackson won the 2011 junior world championships. Meanwhile, Laucks expects Spain and Germany to field powerhouse teams (Spaniards Adria Bosch and Odei Areta won gold and silver in 2011), and perhaps a few well-established C-1 boaters to make a crossover.

Conor Mihell has been chasing the world championships for Rapid since 2009.

This article first appeared in the Summer/Fall 2013 issue of Rapid Magazine. For more great content, subscribe to Rapid’s print and digital editions here

Skills: Taboo Breaker

Skills

Photo: Andrew Westwood — Skills: Taboo Breaker

Running sustained rapids in a canoe requires both dry lines and fancy boat work to keep water out when colliding with breaking waves. Wave blocking is one of the foundation skills that define success in open canoeing—reducing the water in your boat cuts down on pulling into eddies to empty and keeps you light and maneuverable throughout your run.

Recently a friend asked how I had run a series of haystacks while keeping my boat dry. Wave blocking was the trick, but to do it, you have to break an age-old taboo. I explained that you tilt your canoe upstream just as you strike the foam pile at the top of the breaking wave. This presents the belly of the canoe to the frothy part of the wave and knocks it out of the way. The combined height of the canoe’s sidewall and tilted hull reduces the likelihood of scooping water and having a wet ride.

To guard against the usually fatal faux pas of tilting upstream, reach downstream past the wave crest and plant a draw stroke to pull you up and over it. A vertical paddle shaft is key. This will maximize the bite of the blade in the current and give you the stability needed to hold your canoe upright during the impact with the recirculating water at the wave top.

Keeping your body upright is essential. Avoid leaning upstream; instead, tilt your canoe with knee pressure on the upstream edge. By keeping yourself centered over the canoe, your stability will be main- tained by keeping equal pressure on the paddle reaching downstream and knee pushing upstream.

POSITION YOUR CANOE

Positioning the canoe broadside to the wave helps stabilize the block as well. Having the wave strike the canoe amidships prevents the canoe from being suddenly turned by the wave. Striking a wave at an angle may result in the sudden twisting of the hull as the wave tries to turn you parallel to the crest, increasing the risk of an upset.

Wave blocking works—it’ll keep your canoe dry, allowing you to run longer rapids without having to pull over and empty. Best of all, when you get to the bottom of a wild set of rapids, success can be measured by how little water is in your canoe.

Andrew Westwood is an open canoe instructor at the Madawaska Kanu Centre, member of Team Esquif and author of The Essential Guide to Canoeing.

This article first appeared in the Summer/Fall 2013 issue of Rapid Magazine. For more great content, subscribe to Rapid’s print and digital editions here

Paddling Blind

Stories

Erik Weihenmayer isn’t your average kayaker. The 44-year-old recently made official his quest to become the first blind person to paddle the Grand Canyon in 2014.

Weihenmayer is not new to firsts. The adventurer and motivational speaker was the first blind person to climb Mount Everest in 2001 and conquered the Seven Summits in 2008. He’s also an accom- plished alpine skier, rock climber and marathon runner. All of those achievements have helped prepare him for his hardest challenge yet.

“Kayaking is way more intense than anything I’ve ever done. So much is happening in such a short amount of time,” he says. “Learn- ing to ski was hard, but the ground doesn’t move below you.”

The whitewater learning curve over the past six years has been steep and left Weihenmayer uncertain and scared at times. “There’s moments where I’m swimming through a rapid and I wonder, what am I doing here—there’s a reason there are no other blind kayakers in the world,” says Weihenmayer.

He kayaks with a spotter who either yells instructions or communi- cates via waterproof radio. There’s usually at least one other paddler for backup and occasionally a kayaker out front, picking lines. He has only praise for his growing team of boaters who “have to line me up and anticipate what the river will do and where the river will take me.” He prefers paddling big water, as opposed to small creeks and technical runs that require precise lines.

“I still have that sense of going into something crazy before a rapid,” he says. “It’s pretty daunting. I’d like to see if that changes with more experience, if I will eventually feel like I can handle anything.”

KAYAKING IS A MENTAL GAME

In April, Weihenmayer completed a successful 12-day reconnaissance trip to the Grand Canyon before he committed himself to going back on a 225-mile, 20-day trip in September 2014. “The very first day, the very first rapid was bigger than anything I’d ever done. I did pretty well—I survived, I got sucked into whirlpools but managed to roll up, and that gave me confidence.”

Weihenmayer says his biggest challenge will be endurance. “Kayaking is such a mental game for me so I get fatigued. I can get flipped on easy, no-name rapids just because I wasn’t expecting it.

“Rivers are very complicated from a blind person’s perspective. The way currents and rapids form, they create a very wild, fast, un- certain and powerful environment,” he adds.

Even after next year’s Grand Canyon run, Weihenmayer expects to be hooked on kayaking for life—it’s something his whole family, including his two children, can enjoy, even from a raft. “We can all challenge ourselves in different ways, that’s the cool part about rivers.”

This article first appeared in the Summer/Fall 2013 issue of Rapid Magazine. For more great content, subscribe to Rapid’s print and digital editions here

Switch it Up

Stories

Some paddling pros are turning heads by switching things up on their favorite runs, literally. Riding switch—or paddling backwards—got some attention at the 2012 Green Race when Dane Jackson and Pat Keller did the full short boat race looking over their shoulders.

For Jackson, paddling backwards is just another way to get more thrills out of the sport, which is why he’s been hooked since he first tried it in 2011. “Switch can turn your home river into an intense run,” he says, “and it makes every river a new river because you’re seeing it in a way you never have before.”

“Switch has become a hot new trend,” says 2009 World Freestyle Kayak Champion, Nick Troutman. “Paddlers are running extremely hard whitewater switch,” he says, but people were paddling backwards long before its recent spike in publicity. When he was first learning freestyle, Troutman spent a whole summer paddling backwards after hearing that it could improve his moves. He and Jackson did a switch run of the Alseseca after a race last winter and Troutman blogged that it was a “whole new challenge after mastering the lines forwards.”

RIDING SWITCH IS NOT JUST FOR THE PROS

But riding switch isn’t just for people who have mastered class V forwards or are trying to win the Worlds. According to Troutman, changing the direction of paddle strokes can help strengthen shoulder muscles and it’s a great way to increase overall awareness and boat control—a skill that can build towards freestyle tricks with enough practice. Plus, he says, you’ll be glad to have tried it when you end up riding switch accidentally. “I remember years ago having to use an emergency back boof. Trust me, at the bottom of the drop I was glad I had practiced paddling backwards.”

For Jackson, switch kayaking is a lot like C1 creekboating. “It’s tough to convince someone how much fun it really is. It’s unsettling at first, scary, out of control, and you will probably crash quite a bit.” But, he adds, after enough practice anyone can get comfortable riding switch, and will probably have a blast doing it.

Will we see backwards runs creep their way into the competition scene? Probably not, though Jackson thinks the Green Race is the perfect place to add a switch class. He says it’s more likely that the style will stay unofficial and that people will keep looking at him like he’s crazy when he plows past the finish line backwards.

This article first appeared in the Summer/Fall 2013 issue of Rapid Magazine. For more great content, subscribe to Rapid’s print and digital editions here

A Better Adventure In The Great Bear Rainforest

My kayak was full of water. We were over a mile from shore when I made this unsettling observation. Already overloaded with two hundred pounds of food, camping gear and camera equipment, I hadn’t noticed my shrinking freeboard until now. Through my dry suit, I felt something bob against my thigh. With the waves continuously crashing over my deck, I called to Spencer and Daniel to raft up next to me. Pumping furiously, we bailed the frigid North Pacific only slightly faster than it poured in.

Reaching one of Douglas Channel’s scarce beaches, I carefully pulled my boat up on the slippery rocks to drain the flooded front hatch and cockpit, noticing the foam bulkhead between the two was not properly sealed. Still, I was thankful the worst was over. Then the bag containing our satellite phone and tide charts washed out, full of seawater.

With our primary means of communication destroyed (we carried an emergency transmitter for back-up) and our charts ruined, we had a difficult decision to make: return to the small Haisla community of Kitamaat Village where we had begun our trip just hours before, or continue as planned eight days into the remote coastal wilderness of the Great Bear Rainforest.

seals swim underwater off the coast of the Great Bear Rainforest

Chasing Spirits In The Great Bear Rainforest

Adventure—and controversy—in the Great Bear Rainforest

The largest temperate rainforest in the world, the Great Bear covers 70,000 square kilometers along the northern B.C. coast. When we had planned this trip two months before, I realized just how little I knew about this remarkable wilderness, despite its position at the center of an environmental debate surrounding the proposed Northern Gateway pipeline.

the waters of Great Bear Rainforest on a cloudy day — The Great Bear is the largest temperate rainforest in the world. | Photo: Paul Manning-Hunter

If completed, the pipeline will pump oil from the Alberta Tar Sands across Alberta and British Columbia to the Pacific Ocean where it can be loaded into tankers and shipped to Asia. Proponents of the project say it is necessary in order to diversify the markets available for Alberta oil, while opponents claim that it will bring toxic crude through sensitive and pristine ecosystems where a leak would have devastating effects.

Environmental controversy isn’t new in this region. Neither are grassroots initiatives: the actions of small groups of people have already foiled bids to clearcut log, trophy grizzly hunt and open net salmon farm in the Great Bear. Eager to discover the area for myself, I also wanted to share our adventure so that others who couldn’t make the trip would be better informed on the Northern Gateway issue. Packing video equipment, I hoped to document some of North America’s most rare and majestic animals including spirit bears, cougars, grizzlies, dolphins and whales.

“Our sea kayaking experience was essentially zero.”

Friends for 20 years, Spencer Taft, Daniel Robb and I grew up within a few blocks of each other. We live much farther apart now, but our shared interest in nature and adventure keeps us close. Taft is pursuing his Masters of Ecology after returning from three months of hitchhiking from Kosovo to Lithuania. Robb spends his summers as a canoe guide in the Northwest Territories and his winters ski patrolling and guiding in British Columbia. He is one of the few people to complete the 20-day, 320-kilometer ski traverse along the Great Divide between Jasper and Lake Louise. Whitewater kayaking since age four, I paddle on the Canadian National Whitewater Slalom Team and train in the steep, beautiful rivers that cascade through the Rocky Mountains.

It was Robb who first mentioned the Great Bear. He told us that, when he took a recent fishing trip to the area, the Native community at Hartley Bay was protesting the plan to ship oil from the mainland through 150 kilometers of narrow, twisting and frequently stormy channels. The proposed route included the area where B.C. Ferries’ flagship Queen of the North crashed into Gil Island and sank on a gusty night in 2006. The Natives claimed that if a similar accident happened involving one of the oil tankers, the resulting spill would devastate the ecosystem their community has relied upon for thousands of years.

Talking it over, we agreed that together we were uniquely suited for an expedition through the Great Bear. I had two decades of kayaking experience, Spencer had extensive knowledge of the flora and fauna we would encounter, and Daniel had expertise preparing for multiday adventures. There was just one little problem—our combined sea kayaking experience was essentially zero.

High spirits, rough water

We started our trip near the city of Kitimat, where the proposed tanker route would begin. An industrial town planned and built by aluminum smelting giant Alcan in the 1950s, Kitimat is not commonly used as a departure point for kayak trips so there’s no paddle shop. Luckily, we found a passionate advocate for the rainforest in Joe Paolinelli, owner of Skeena Kayaking in Prince Rupert. Paolinelli had boats and equipment waiting for us in Kitimat, but in our inexperience we didn’t grab enough waterproof neoprene hatch covers, which is how our satphone arrived at its salty demise.

After sealing my leaking hatch with duct tape and a garbage bag, we were in high spirits as we navigated the rough water of Douglas Channel, drinking in the warm air and spectacular scenery. One of the area’s most beautiful features is also one of its most significant hazards—the shoreline is predominantly vertical rock cliffs with impenetrable vegetation beginning at the high tide mark. Getting off the water is often impossible.

Kayaking through this flooded mountain range, we wondered what might be gazing back at us from the thick curtain of woods. The Kermode, or spirit bear, is a black bear that possesses a recessive gene rendering it completely white. Found only in this area, the ghostly bears feature in Native folklore and the hope of spotting one fishing for salmon spawning up the creeks kept us close to shore.

cabin in the Great Bear Rainforest — A cabin offers welcome refuge at Hugh Creek. | Photo: Paul Manning-Hunter

three adventurers in the Great Bear Rainforest — Out of their element (L-R): Paul Manning-Hunter, Daniel Robb and Spencer Taft. | Photo: Paul Manning-Hunter

campfire in the Great Bear Rainforest — Shedding a little light in the darkness. | Photo: Paul Manning-Hunter

Eager to support our film project, the Haisla community had given us permission to use the tiny trapper’s cabins they have built throughout the region. The cabins are only eight feet by 10 feet and locating them amongst the thick vegetation was difficult. Reaching Coste Island, we couldn’t find the cabin at all and ended up tenting on a cliff overlooking the distant lights of Kitimat.

Nothing dries in the rainforest

The Coste Rocks are 150-foot pillars that rise from the ocean floor to just break the surface as craggy islets. I hoped to film harbor seals hauling out and sunbathing on the rocks so we set off at sunrise to reach them on a favorable tide. Without our charts, we congratulated ourselves for calculating the tidal period using our knowledge of the sun and moon. But we prairie boys soon found ourselves paddling against the current as a thick fog and heavy rain rolled in. As we neared the rocks, dozens of seals slid into the water. I set up a camera and we ate lunch in the drizzle, waiting. But the shiny little heads only stared sulkily at us from the water.

Man holding crab traps on beach — Photo: Paul Manning-Hunter

To escape the funnelling wind and waves of Douglas Channel, we turned down sheltered Devastation Channel and pushed on through the fog. Low tide revealed mussel-coated rocks and we aimed for Hugh Creek with mounds of the molluscs on our decks. Paddling up into the fresh water, Spencer pointed into the coniferous jungle and gave a welcome cry, “Cabin!” The wooden cabin stood on three-foot piers above the mossy ground. One tiny window barely illuminated two sets of rustic bunks and an inviting wood stove. Within minutes, we had converted it into a sauna as we steamed mussels and listened to rain drumming on the roof.

A bright morning revealed three huge crabs in our crab trap and the soggy truth that nothing dries in the rainforest. As the crabs boiled, we watched eagles scanning the confluence of the shallow creek and the ocean for their own breakfasts. Eating from the sea and drinking from the creek, we felt a connection to the indigenous people who have been doing just that, probably right there, for thousands of years.

As hard as it was to leave, we couldn’t resist the allure of a nearby hot spring. Like the verdant forests, the Great Bear’s abundance of natural hot springs owe their existence to the region’s copious rainfall. Rain seeps down through the mountains’ sedimentary bases where it’s heated geothermally, and the hot water is forced back to the surface through natural fissures.

That night we decided to adjust our ambitious route plan. I needed footage of the Great Bear’s wild inhabitants to show others what was at stake, but trying to cover as much distance as possible meant that we hadn’t seen a lot of wildlife. The map showed a lake high up in the mountains behind our cabin. We would spend the next day hiking to it.

Threats to the Great Bear

Oil is not the rainforest’s only threat. When the B.C. government named the Great Bear a protected area in 2006, just 50 percent of the forest was made off-limits to logging, leaving half the old-growth forest at risk. Following a creek that tumbled down from Evelyn Lake, we found ourselves on an old logging road overgrown with willows and young spruce where centuries-old Sitka spruce, cedar and western hemlock would have once reached heights of 230 feet. We were clearly not the only users of this wilderness highway. The dirt was imprinted with wolf tracks as big as our hands and fresh piles of bear scat had us nervously fingering the triggers of our pepper spray cans.

How Human Activity Is Impacting The Great Bear Rainforest

After swimming and fishing in the crystalline lake, we returned to the coast along a game trail littered with half-eaten salmon. Spencer explained how a vital source of these forests’ nitrogen and other nutrients comes from fish carcasses carried into the woods by bears and wolves. Moments later, we climbed over a head-high log and found ourselves face to face with a huge black bear. Luckily, the bear had already filled its belly with salmon and we made it back to the cabin instead of nourishing the trees.

With our own food supply running low, we turned back toward Kitamaat Village the following day. At our cabin that evening, I was restless and frustrated. I had missed filming the bear on the game trail—I still didn’t have what I needed. Wandering down to the beach where I had collected mussels for dinner, I spotted a black bear eating from the exact spot I had been only minutes before! Elated, I ran back to the cabin to grab my camera and my friends. We sat on the edge of the forest and watched our neighbor crack open mussels and sniff at the new scent in the foggy ocean air.

On the final 20-kilometer push to Kitimat, carbohydrate withdrawal was obvious as we talked for an hour about different ways to cook yams. A cold wind, rain, fatigue and hunger had us in low spirits until a dozen dorsal fins popped up in front of us. A pod of Dall’s porpoises had come to investigate and offer us a reminder of why we were out here.

Leaving the Great Bear, I found myself pondering the issues facing this complex wilderness with a newfound clarity, and grateful to have had the chance to journey with my friends amongst the rainforest-cloaked mountains, foraging bears and playful porpoises. I was glad, too, that the trip was more than a personal adventure. Aspiring to share the Great Bear’s story with others enhanced my own connection to this special place. Hauling camera equipment and seeking out opportunities to film may have limited our miles, but it opened our eyes.

Great Bear trip planner

When to go

Mid to late summer has the most stable weather with the least wind and rain. However, keep in mind you are in a rainforest—plan for wet weather. In the spring, runoff from creeks and rivers creates currents that can make getting into the inlets dangerous. Storms plague the region beginning in late September. Expect bugs almost any time of year—a local told us the only insect repellent is winter.

Difficulty

Douglas Channel is renowned for wind and waves. Infrequent landings due to the surrounding cliffs compound the difficulty, making this an advanced route. The deep fjords and foul weather also make communication, even by satellite, unpredictable. Freshwater for drinking is available approximately every 10 kilometers.

Access

The city of Kitimat is accessed by Highway 37 off Trans-Canada Highway 16. There is no recreational boat launch, as the Alcan plant takes up the city’s entire waterfront. The best option is to drive 20 minutes southeast on Minette Bay Road to Kitimaat Village and launch for free at MK Bay Marina. Parking is $5 per day. BC Ferries does not service Kitimat, the nearest ferry ports are Klemtu and Prince Rupert.

Charts/Forecasts

Canadian Hydrographic Series chart 3743 (1:73,000). Find local wave heights and marine weather from the Nanakwa Shoal weather station at weather.gc.ca.

Guidebook

The Wild Coast, Volume 2 by John Kimantas (Whitecap Books, 2006) is excellent and has detailed maps and information on many routes in the region.

Guided trips

Albacore II Charters offers mothership services.

The Gitga’at Native community at Hartley Bay offers guided trips and accommodations.

Cover of Adventure Kayak Magazine Summer/Fall 2013 issue This article was first published in the Summer/Fall 2013 issue of Adventure Kayak Magazine. Subscribe to Paddling Magazine’s print and digital editions, or browse the archives.

Feature photo: Paul Manning-Hunter

Editorial: Making Time, Not Distance

Stories

Photo: Scott MacGregor — An editorial on making time for kayaking

It’s been a while since my last real sea kayak expedition. I admit this knowing that I’ll find strength in numbers and I have the largest part of our readership standing beside me talking on their cell phones, covered in drywall dust and Gerber non-sweetened applesauce. Life for me at 35 has pretty much unfolded as everyone older than me said it would: job (granted, a cool one), house and family. I’m still paddling, more than they said I would be, more than I have ever before. But it’s different now.

I used to be able to look back on a year and see the rows of days filled in on my calendar. Silver Islet to Rossport— 10 days. The Trent Severn Waterway— two weeks. A week out and back exploring Tangier, Nova Scotia. I’m on the water as much as ever, but you wouldn’t know it by my calendar. Sea kayaking for me was like a vacation, a getaway. Lately it’s more like going for bike ride or throwing the ball around, something I’d do for a few hours after cutting the grass on a sunny Saturday afternoon.

Outfitters all over North America are changing their summer programs from 10-day adventures to weekends, day trips and even half days. The coolest job out there used to be wilderness sea kayak guide, now it’s tour guide. It’s far less romantic, but what can you do? Clients are just too busy and won’t commit to being away for seven days at a time. The horrible irony is, of course, that as a society we’ve never needed a week’s holiday more than we do now. Paddling within Blackberry range is also changing the types of boats on the market. Ten years ago a sea kayak was a sea kayak, roughly 17 feet long and perfect for an extended trip. Today we have specialized fishing kayaks, fitness shells, beach boats and light touring sea kayaks—boats sure to get you out on the water when you can’t get out for long periods of time. Our expedition 17-footers are fine for long trips but these new boats make it easier to get out for a couple hours here and there. Kayaking used to be a way of making distance, these days going kayaking is about making time.

To survive in our mini-adventure culture I’ve learned to be ready to go on a moment’s notice. Everything has to be in one place, mine’s all in one Rubbermaid bin. I have my gear set like a fireman so I can slide down the pole and step into my boots, pull up my bibs and jump onto the moving truck. If you don’t hurry you’ve burned up time you could have spent on the water.

Last week when trout season opened I was rigging my fishing kayak and getting ready to push off. I was about to lock my truck and hide the keys and saw my cell phone on the dash. For a moment, only a quick moment, I thought about sliding it into my radio pocket in case the office needed to reach me. But I didn’t. That would be going just a little too far.

This article originally appeared in Adventure Kayak, Summer 2006. Download our free iPad/iPhone/iPod Touch App or Android App or read it here.

Justin Trudeau And Family Enjoy Canoeing In The Yukon

Photo: Courtesy Yukon Wild — Justin Trudeau and his family canoeing on the Yukon River

Justin Trudeau, leader of the federal Liberal Party of Canada, is currently on summer holiday, and he and his family certainly seem to be making the most of it.

The slight drizzle that fell over the Yukon River last Thursday morning didn’t keep the Trudeau’s away. Justin, along with wife Sophie, 4-year old daughter Ella-Grace and 5-year old son Xavier, joined Yukon Wild member Nahanni River Adventures & Canadian River Expeditions (NAH/CRE) on a morning canoe last week through Miles Canyon. Justin last paddled with NAH/CRE on the Nahanni River in 2007 and made the canoe outing with his family a priority for him during his trip to Yukon.

Justin is a skilled paddler and past whitewater raft guide on the Rouge River in Quebec, and the legacy continues as his children showed a keen interest as well as comfort and ease in the canoes. The day trip was a perfect fit for the Trudeaus. The Yukon River held as much adventure for the family as the Nahanni did for Justin. A stop at Canyon City of Gold Rush fame allowed for exploration and some gold panning along its banks. Lunch atop of Miles Canyon was punctuated with cliff jumping by Justin and has son, Xavier. An appetite for adventure just like his father, Xavier’s requests for the trip were to ‘go fast’ and ‘have fun’.

With smiles all around, the day was filled with endless Yukon sunshine, laughs, and great family memories. The Trudeaus will continue their summer holiday into Banff and California before their return to the capital.

For more information about Yukon Wild and its members, visit www.yukonwild.com

Paddlers Abusing Put-In Privileges On The Ottawa River

Photo: Sierra Stinson — Access signage on the Ottawa River

As always, you can expect to see line-ups in the eddies of the Rocher-Fendu section of the Ottawa River this summer. Boaters of all kinds make the journey back to the Ottawa time and time again, largely due to its high volume waves, warm water and ease of access.

The access could become non-existent, however, if private boaters do not start doing their part to ensure that they leave the access points in good condition.

“There is no public access to this section of the Ottawa River, which has put the rafting company’s in the position of providing paddlers with access through their private property and facilities,” explains John Mason, a member of the Whitewater Ontario Advocacy committee, “This is why OWL Rafting/MKC leased and eventually purchased property at the put-in and have provided parking and access free of charge as a responsibility they took on since the early 1970’s.”

Access roads into McCoy’s rapid and the Lorne (owned by OWL) and Black’s Rapid (owned by Wilderness Tours), are certainly appreciated by those who wish to access their favorite play spot or take-out easily, but many are abusing the road and parking areas by ignoring requests from landowners about respecting the property.

“The gate at Grants Settlement Road is locked through the winter until the road dries out by mid May,” says Mason, “All are welcome to park at the main road and walk in at anytime the gate is locked, but people ignore the gate and drive. This is a problem, as the road is unstable and easily damaged. Parking in the main parking lot, not at the top of the rapid, is requested as well.”

Trying to curb the effects that driving to the top of the rapid has had on the road, Whitewater Ontario worked with OWL Rafting to create directional signage for the new access trail OWL has built at the Lorne Rapid. The signage directs paddlers to the trail, and thanks OWL on behalf of paddlers for continuing to provide access to the Ottawa.

“We have worked with Dirk Van Wijk, owner of OWL, to develop directional signs to get paddlers using the new Access Trail,” says Wayne Donison, Co-Chair of the Whitewater Ontario Advocacy Committee, “There have been some problems created for RiverRun Rafting and Wilderness Tours in the past because of people being disrespectful of their lunch site properties- camping in the lunch spots, leaving litter, messing up the outhouses and driving in beyond the sign at the gate.”

Due to higher cost of maintaining the road in to the Lorne, it is more important than ever that private paddlers respect the generosity of the rafting companies.

“Failure to respect these simple conditions could result in closure of the road to private paddlers,” says Mason, “Make sure roads are kept clear for bus traffic, and that there is no camping, no fires, and be sure to pack out your trash.”

For more information, visit www.whitewaterontario.ca or e-mail [email protected]

Banks Fry-Bake Co Expedition Pan

Gear

Photo: www.fry-bake.com — Banks Fry-Bake Expedition Pan

Prepare everything from bacon to birthday cakes with this 10.5-inch anodized aluminum modern equivalent to a Dutch oven. The two-inch deep pan and lid weighs under 29 ounces and are are durable, lightweight, and specially designed to withstand the rigors of outdoor use.

$73 | www.frybake.com

This article appeared in Canoeroots & Family Camping, Spring 2013. Download our free iPad/iPhone/iPod Touch App or Android App or read it here.