So You Want to Go on an Expedition

Stories

Photo: Mike Beedell/ocanadaex.com — So You Want to Go on an Expedition

The expedition is egalitarian as never before. Once the domain of enduring national heroes and earth shaking discoveries, the expedition has devolved to the personal sphere. Rather than bulwarking a nation’s reputation and capacity on the global stage, the modern expedition galvanizes the reputation and capacity of the individual. Instead of revelations that rock a people, we have discoveries that rock a person.

Anyone with the drive, the strength and the smarts can put an expedition together if they want it badly enough.

For those with a strong sense of adventure, who would like to use their little boat to paddle to those places much less travelled, it is important to know, to consciously understand, what-it-is-you-do, and why. Of all the variations of the sport, the expedition requires the clearest intentionality for a successful journey. Conversely, it has the least margin of tolerance of a failed one.

A kayak expedition may be a trip to a distant locale, an awesome distant bay or cape or beach, it could be the attempt of a very long crossing, or, more commonly, paddling a predetermined length of coastline, perhaps with a vehicle shuttle to put your rig at trip end. But no matter how you slice it, a kayak expedition is as much about a style of adventuring, of paddling and camping, of nuts and bolts, day to day life, as it is about the objective itself. In a word, two words actually, it is about paradigm and imperatives.

Paradigm, in my dictionary, is “an example that serves as a pattern or model for something.” A kayak expedition is a wonderful model for living in sustained adventure in the wild. And what that implies is a refreshingly straightforward set of imperatives. Def, imperative: “absolutely necessary or unavoidable.”

In other words, it is the chop wood/carry water credo of Zen sensibilities, but with an edge. We trade the soft, ill-defined, banal imperatives of routine civilized life for those of travelling in a coastal wilderness. Routine activities revolve Northwest Passage, near Bylot Island around the nourishment and conservation of our well being as we travel. Instead of concern with meetings, relationships, finances, we are concerned with keeping our brown rice dry and safe from marauding animals, our boat right side up and free from holes, our tent from leaking, our hands free of blisters. Instead of reacting to events we try and stay ahead of the curve. Before we launch we make sure everything we might need in our cockpit on the water is at hand, and ashore when the sun is out we string our wet clothes out to dry. Anticipation, preparedness, circumspection are the watch words. A vacation it is not.

On a recent expedition my partner and I reached a protected cove on an offshore island at dusk in stormy weather. Our first imperative was reaching the sanctuary of the cove, done. Next imperative was to establish shelter and secure our equipment. Then, to get warm and dry and vittle up. Finally, to sleep and restore the precious energy and enthusiasm to do it over again.

Purpose, objective, intention, the quickening of our bodies and minds in the face of danger, the readjustment of attitude during times of impatience or prolonged tedium, the accountability of personalities in the stew pot of enforced teamwork, the mental pique of managing logistics and itinerary in remote, roadless waterways.

The nearly tangible relief, satisfaction, contentment or joy of daily events like shelter in a gale, nourishment in extreme hunger and fatigue, safe passage ashore through surf, a dry sleeping bag.

The imperatives we engage on a kayak expedition keep us on our toes, obviating a direct causal relationship with consequence. More than that though, the expedition offers a rare opportunity to experience the sacred paradigm of living by our wits and few resources in a primordial natural environment. And that, when we come home at expedition end, is tonic for the soul.

This article first appeared in the Spring 2006 issue of Adventure Kayak Magazine. For more great content, subscribe to Adventure Kayak’s print and digital editions here.

What Separates An Expedition From A Simple Paddling Trip?

a group of beached sea kayaks on an Alaskan paddling expedition — Feature photo: Michael Jadrich Ortiz/Unsplash

The word “expedition” comes with a lot of baggage. And I don’t mean the two tons of lightest-gear-known-to-man that invariably accompanies each team member in the form of loaded duffles, camera equipment and paddling gear.

What I’m talking about is that increasingly cloudy distinction between going for a nice paddle somewhere and mounting an “expedition.” What exactly are the key ingredients that launch paddling from one place to another into the realm of expeditioning?

a sea kayak sits on the Scottish coast during an expedition

Expedition Hub: 4 Kayak Journeys Of Epic Proportions

What separates an expedition from a simple paddling trip?

In the old days, going on an expedition meant doing things the hard way in order to complete a trip that was so ambitious, so outrageous in scope that the paddling world simply had to sit up and take notice. But that approach is really tiring—and scary too! Just ask Paul Caffyn what it was like to paddle around Australia in 360 days through shark- and snake-infested waters. Or quiz Ed Gillet on how much fun it was to paddle alone from California to Hawaii for 63 days, running out of food and losing 25 pounds along the way. These guys are so tough that their trips are just plain nutty! That’s not for the likes of you and me.

illlustration of a person on a paddling expedition with a film crew and script — Feature illustration: Lorenzo Del Bianco

Marketing makes it real

Nowadays, the only real difference between a paddling trip and a true expedition is marketing, which comes in the form of sponsorship and media coverage.

If you’re not sponsored, it’s not an expedition. I don’t care how far you paddle or how much you suffer. You must have stickers on your kayak and get all of your gear for free. Without sponsorship, you’re just going for a paddle like everybody else, and what’s special about that?

Once you’re properly wallpapered with corporate logos, you need media coverage—reportage.^* If your expedition doesn’t generate any hype, it’s all over. You might as well do nothing at all.

It’s just like the proverbial tree in the forest. You know, if a tree falls in a forest and there’s nobody there to see it, did it really happen? And if you round Cape Horn and…. You get the idea. Your sponsors won’t be happy. You might even have to pay for all that free gear, just like every other schmo who dips a paddle in the sea. Lame!

[ Plan your next paddling expedition—or trip!—with the Paddling Trip Guide ]

Imagine, however, that the tree falling in the forest is sponsored. It’s all covered in the Coca-Cola swirl and Microsoft stickers, and there’s a tie-in to Extreme Tree Falling Week on TSN hosted by Paris Hilton and Prudential Insurance. A scrum of reporters and photographers are on the ground while the NBC news chopper circles overhead. FOX has nailed a killer crane shot for the live feed and Geraldo Rivera is working his TV magic. The tree sways, the crowd goes quiet, the Olsen Twins hold their breath…. Now that’s the right way for a tree to fall in the forest if it wants to get noticed.

This trip brought to you by…

Best Expedition Kayaks For 2024

These days when all the big trips have been done and the good destinations used up, marketing is the next frontier. Anybody can launch a kayak and try to paddle to Hawaii—again (although if you want to survive, you should definitely try to get Ed to come along). But it will take a real adventurous soul to push the boundaries of expedition marketing, to go beyond the limits of sponsorship from mere manufacturers of paddling equipment, those small, struggling Mom and Pop enterprises with limited budgets and no international media leverage. The really big dreamers will tap into the unexplored reaches of the Dow Jones companies and mega-media conglomerates like Pfizer, Philip Morris and Disney.

Imagine the Viagra-Marlborough-Jack Daniels Sea Kayak Expedition, bringing the message of “life-enhancing drugs, a smooth smoke and mellow Tennessee bourbon” to small communities up and down our great, unspoiled coasts. Think of the possibilities. And think of the free product. Now that’s an expedition I’d want to be part of!

^*For any canoeist reading this, “reportage” does not mean to carry your boat to the same location twice.

Alex Matthews’ first story appeared in the Fall 2002 issue of Adventure Kayak. His Rock the Boat column has prompted plenty of letters to our editors over the years.

Cover of the 2023 Paddling Trip Guide This article was first published in the Spring 2006 issue of Adventure Kayak Magazine and was republished in the 2023 Paddling Trip Guide. Subscribe to Paddling Magazine’s print and digital editions, or browse the archives.

Feature photo: Michael Jadrich Ortiz/Unsplash

Editorial: A Step Beyond Purpose

Stories

Photo: Scott MacGregor — Editorial: A Step Beyond Purpose

An expedition as defined by my dictionary is “a journey or voyage undertaken by a group of people with a particular purpose.” Especially, it goes on to clarify, “that of exploration or war.” Perhaps that’s why, 10 years ago, when I was preparing to paddle home to Hamilton, Ontario, after my last day of university in Thunder Bay, I thought I needed to have a cause and gather sponsorship.

After five years of driving the north shores of Lake Superior, Lake Huron and Georgian Bay, I wanted to paddle the waters I’d only dipped my toe into before getting back be- hind the wheel. I spent the winter dehydrating vegetables, tracing the Great Lakes coastlines with a piece of string and writing sponsorship proposals.

With the effort spent gathering sponsorship I could have bought a lawn mower and raised enough money cutting grass to do the trip for its own sake, but somehow having a cause higher than avoiding the nagging voice of real life seemed to legitimize my efforts. I thought I needed to justify three and a half months on the water, an entire summer, something no one in their right mind would do without a reason.

The fact is, kayak expeditions as traditionally defined by their external purposes are coming to an end.

Unless we find water on Mars, we are running out of places to explore. And although kayaking, like canoe- ing, downhill skiing and mountain biking, remains a part of the training of the Canadian Forces (in case the federal government needs to storm the beaches of Nunavut using the War Measures Act?) true kayak jour- neys for the purpose of war are few.

We’re left trying to contrive new purposes for our expeditions—pub- lic awareness campaigns, fundrais- ing, television contracts, being the first or the fastest. It may be that the only difference between modern expeditions and plain old trips is that expeditions have corporate sponsors and satellite phone interviews with the press.

So it was with my trip, which became the Stay Afloat Expedition. We met Colleen Omeara at the Department of Fisheries and Oceans, who suggested we turn our trip into a safe boating mission, which she would use in a summer-long Coast Guard safe boating campaign complete with TV, radio and newspaper media stops along the way.

I often wondered if talking to school kids about boating safety was enough of a purpose. It certainly wasn’t as grand as exploration

or war, and there are more worthy causes—Simon Osborne circumnavigated Britain and then Ireland raising money because his brother died of leukemia. I thought about a possible fundraiser for the Heart and Stroke Foundation—“Three mil- lion strokes for heart disease.”

But maybe I didn’t need a purpose at all.

We can take a lesson from Forrest Gump who, in the movie of the same name, became a national celebrity when he ran around the country continuously for three years. When reporters asked why he was running he said, “For no particular reason. I just kept on going. I ran clear to the ocean. And when I got there, I figured, since I’d gone this far, I might as well turn around, just keep on going. When I got to another ocean, I figured, since I’d gone this far, I might as well just turn back, keep right on going.”

I think I’ll call my next big paddling trip the It-Seems-Like-Fun Expedition, and the purpose will be the joy of embarking on a long journey without an extrinsic purpose. Watch for it. I’ll be giving interviews with the press via sat phone.

This article first appeared in the Spring 2006 issue of Adventure Kayak Magazine. For more great content, subscribe to Adventure Kayak’s print and digital editions here.

Boat Review: The Wisper by Feathercraft

Photo: Dave Aharonian — Boat Review: The Wisper by Feathercraft

The Feathercraft Wisper is as light as FC’s popular Kahuna, but longer, narrower and faster. it’s closer to FC’s Greenlandesque, high-performance Khatsalano. With narrow upturned ends and low rear deck its arctic hunting provenance is clear.

The jury’s out on the performance merits of folding versus hard hulls. Prevailing wisdom says, the rougher the weather, soft shells do better. Because they absorb wave energy like a full-suspension mountain bike licks up the lumps on rocky trails—you can pedal faster and get better control if your wheels stay on the ground—you may spend less energy bracing and more on forward paddling.

However, unless you regularly start your paddles at the airline check-in or in your condo’s storage closet, the folding advantage is largely philosophical. prices are getting closer all the time and FC’s welded urethane sealskin is as waterproof and durable as the fanciest composites, lasting 20 to 30 years. The question is, Grass- hopper, do you want to pierce the waves or flow over them?

Paddling the Wisper on a rough day feels like steamrolling your tent partner through a sleeping bag. Aircraft aluminum, flexible joints and plastic crossribs translate everything into muffled bumps. We experienced a dry ride through four-foot wind chop, while feeling the ocean poking at us in playful intimacy. “You are not separate from the water, but joined,” could be a line from Lao Tzu but is actually from FC’s homepage.

The Wisper comes in two skin weights for the same price: standard for rough and tumble multi-day trips, and lightweight for careful users who want a 20 per cent weight savings.

We had to work a bit to keep up to a longer, narrower hardshell kayak at high speeds. But with its flat rocker and relatively long waterline, our Wisper cruised at a reasonable speed for its size and had no problem catching and riding waves. remember Lao Tzu: “Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished.”

The Wisper is fairly wide and flat-bottomed with integrated air sponsons. Initial stability is excellent right through to a moderate tilt, which is all that’s needed to initiate a carving turn. There’s comfort for beginners and a satisfying balance of tracking and manoeuvrability for paddlers of all levels. To quote further, “she who is centered in the Tao can go where she wishes, without danger.”

The Wisper is an excellent all-around light-touring boat for small to medium-sized paddlers, beginners and up, who want ultimate portability or have Taoist inclinations.

SPECS

length: 15 ft 7 in
width: 23.5 in
weight: 37.5 lb standard 33 lb lightweight
cockpit: 15.5 x 29 in
rear hatch: 16 x 9 in, 85 litres 9.5 in, 47 litres
max payload: 250 lb
MSRP: $3,450 Cdn $2,933 US

This article first appeared in the Winter 2006 issue of Adventure Kayak magazine. For more boat reviews, subscribe to Adventure Kayak’s print and digital editions here.

Boat Review: The Bahiya by P&H

Photo: Victoria Bowman — Boat Review: The Bahiya by P&H

Our local nationwide Outdoor retailer just happened to have a shiny new Kevlar/carbon Bahiya we could borrow because the staff had ordered up a demo for kicks along with the shipment of better-selling P&H Quests and Capellas.

They described it as “an interesting boat,” “really playful” and “popular with the whitewater boaters,” which i took to mean people who are used to recovering from an upside down position. But it’s not as bad as that. The Bahiya is very narrow with a radical deep-V hull but has surprisingly reasonable initial stability, balancing somewhere on the continuum between tightrope walking and sitting on the couch.

Secondary stability treads a fine line between bomber and nonexistent, depending how you define the term “secondary stability.” It’s bomber in that proficient scullers can dial in any degree of tilt from zero to ears underwater and back; non-existent if you expect a boat to talk back before she bucks you off.

Solid-tracking on the level, the Bahiya puts on the turning afterburners when tilted anywhere beyond about 30 degrees to engage the chine. what you spend in bravery, she returns in manoeuvrability, but beyond 45 degrees, have a good recovery brace ready.

The sharp bow has a narrow, long entryline with concave jowls that knifes into the water and makes this boat feel fast. You’d expect a hull with this profile to be a depth finder in surf but if you lean back it won’t pitchpole. P&H designers have compensated for the needle nose and created a dry ride by flaring the hull just under the deck. this lip deflects waves and adds float.

The Bahiya is not just a novelty playboat for kayak reviewers and outdoor store staff. It is a beautiful design that offers a good compromise between manoeuvrability on edge for playful paddling and straight-tracking the rest of the time for touring.

P&H’s Bahiya is a must-try for the medium-sized, skilled paddler looking for a hard-chine, skegged kayak with decent touring capacity.

Fully loaded

The Bahiya fills out around the midsection. The arched deck and deep-V bottom give the cockpit a roomy, barrel-chested feel. Comes standard with aluminum foot braces, recessed compass mount, moulded thigh grips, composite bulkheads, foam-padded plastic bucket seat. Under the deck, all hull fittings are glassed over. Order yours with an integrated foot pump, custom bulkhead, optional hull reinforcements and more.

British

Three supple rubber Kajaksport hatches are dry and easy to get on and off. Nice detail work includes a paddle shaft recess in the rear deck (useful for long-legged folks, who must exit the short cockpit bum-first), locking bar, full-length deck lines, deck bungies for stowing paddles on bow and stern, and a ratcheting backband. And yes, it’s made in the U.K.

Lean machine

A hard chine arcs from bow to stern like the smile that’ll be on your face if you have the confidence to engage it for a little turning action. The deep keel eats up what would otherwise be steep rocker at the stern and acts like a skeg for good tracking.

SPECS

Length: 17 ft 6in
Width: 20.5 in
Depth: 13 in
Weight 51.8 lb fibreglass/diolen, 47.4 lb Kevlar/carbon, 43 lb ultralight
Cockpit: 28.3 x 15 in
Total Volume: 308 litres
Load Range: 154–253 lbs
MRSP: fibreglass/diolen $3,624 Cdn, $2,899 US Kevlar/carbon. $4,499 Cdn, $3,599 US. Ultralight $4,874 Cdn • 3,899 US

This article first appeared in the Winter 2006 issue of Adventure Kayak magazine. For more boat reviews, subscribe to Adventure Kayak’s print and digital editions here.

Skills: Hanging Gates

Skills

Local hangings were the most popular legal (and extra-legal) form of execution in North America long after its supposed civilization. They were public events with a festive atmosphere—families attended with picnic baskets and vendors sold souvenirs as crowds gathered to watch the spectacle.

In 1949, about the time that lynching was finally coming to its end as an American pop-culture thing-to-do, the first official World Championship canoe and kayak slalom races were held in Switzerland. Swinging from riverside trees were gates instead of nooses. Whitewater slalom was becoming its own form of punishment for crimes such as sloppy technique, lack of boat control and low-water boredom.

Local hangings are still happening, but are now hidden deep in urban river valleys and in smaller forgotten channels of popular rivers. Some courses are the training grounds of the nation’s best slalom athletes, while others transform a class II swift into something to do on hot summer evenings.

Hanging gates requires only a little wood- working and some trial (not that kind of trial) and error.

Each gate consists of a horizontal wooden crossbar and two five- or six-foot vertical poles. The crossbar should have eyelets installed at either end, top and bottom—an upper set for hanging the bar from the supporting wire and a lower set to suspend the poles.

The book of slalom law states that gates can be as narrow as 47 inches, but a width of 52 to 54 inches is more comfortable, especially for open canoes. For proper presentation you could add gate numbers and sponsors to the crossbars and paint the poles white with green or red bands—red for “upstream gates” and green for “down- stream gates”.

Pre-planning is the key to any successful execution. Whether you’re hanging just a few practice gates or setting a full race course, every gate should lead naturally to the next, using the flow of the river instead of the paddler’s strength. A course should be balanced with a nearly equal number of gates for left- or right-handed paddlers.

Place some gates deeper in eddies so that boats can carve through them. Put others tight on eddylines. Vary the speed of the course so that strong paddlers can muscle through in some places while the careful technicians can whittle their way through oth- ers. Even if you’re hanging gates on a class II river, there always seems to be a tendency to make the course too difficult. Initially, hang your course so that mere mortals can navigate it cleanly; then create a move or two that challenges the desperadoes.

Hanging gates across even a narrow, lazy current can be a fiasco. Your first challenge is establishing a pull line—the line used to move the rest of the lines from one bank to the other. Try tossing a throw bag or even paddling a line across. Popular with Neanderthals is the rock-and-length-of-twine heave toward a cowering partner. Once you have your pull line set, hanging gates can be a simple process of pulling different lines back and forth across the river.

Keeping in mind what finished gates look like helps you understand the process of hanging them. For each gate imagine four lines strung across part or all of the river and anchored to either nearby trees or homemade bipod supports. One line hangs the crossbar, one pulls the crossbar into position and the other two control the height of the poles.

Taut clothesline or fencing wire is best for supporting the crossbar. The second line extends from the crossbar to the far side so it can be pulled into position across the river. The poles hang from the crossbar on two separate lines which are threaded through the lower set of eyelets and then anchored to either side of the river. These allow you to raise and lower the poles if the river level goes up or down once the crossbar is in position.

The teams on either side need their own spools of line, knives, whistles and the know-how to tie a knot or two. To go into greater detail would take pages to explain things that will be obvious after hanging the first gate.

Before long your local gate hanging spot may be a public spectacle, complete with picnic baskets and vendors gathered to watch the mob of vigilant paddlers in pursuit of whatever whitewater witchcraft it takes to paddle through them fast and clean.

Brian Shields and Scott MacGregor are responsible for at least one local hanging in a small Ottawa Valley lumber town. They recently placed 10th at the 2005 North American Open Canoe Slalom Championships in Jonquière, Quebec.

This article first appeared in the Fall 2005 issue of Rapid Magazine. For more great content, subscribe to Rapid’s print and digital editions here.

Skills: Running Big Holes

Skills

Photo: Dan Armstrong — A whitewater kayaker paddles over the lip of a waterfall.

On large-volume rivers the predictable constants of rock and earth are submerged and replaced with the increasingly chaotic forces of moving water.

Properly assessing one’s mental preparedness and physical fitness, the rapid’s geographic remoteness, and the ability to set up adequate safety are the first steps in deciding to attempt any run. When the run involves extremely large holes, however, there are specific technical variables to consider, including the behavior of the water, your equipment, and your paddling technique.

Being able to see where the current pushes down- stream through a large-volume hole is the greatest challenge when scouting a feature because this flow will often be covered by a large reversal. You can usually tell where the passing current exits the foampile by identifying where the water boils up most significantly on the downstream side of the feature. By connecting the current’s entrance to the exit, you’ll identify a potential passage beneath the whitewater.

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Any path through the feature will almost certainly be deep if you are scouting a truly big hole. Properly aligning your boat with this downstream flow will allow you safe passage by sending you beneath the oncoming speed and power of the recirculating whitewater, not through it or over it.

Your boat is the second variable and the choice you make depends on your ability to read the water. Assessing how deep you will need to go for safe passage through the hole dictates the size and shape of the best boat. The physical properties must provide not just the appropriate buoyancy, but also the tracking ability needed for you to stay online and establish the necessary momentum. Smaller boats are less buoyant and better for subbing out in the deep flow, but lack speed and momentum. Big boats, on the other hand, provide plenty of momentum for punch- ing medium-sized holes, but because of their buoyancy can prevent you from flushing through a hole with the passing current.

The final tactic to employ is proper paddling technique. Aggressive vertical forward strokes and sweeps at the bow will position your boat properly in the current with the correct momentum for entry. A good “tuck and duck,” in which you kiss the skirt and line the paddle up parallel with the prevailing current, will prevent de-limbing. Initiate your exit strokes as a continuation of your tucked paddle position, which will usually be a low brace using the blade behind your hip or a forward stroke using the blade in front of your nose. Placed properly, these strokes will help propel you past the boil point of the hole along with the current continuing downstream.

Above all, remain rational and confident when choosing to lose yourself in a big water giant. The human desire for increasingly larger challenges should be tempered with humility, and knowledge gained from experience. Keep your head by being in the right place with the right people for the right reasons at the right time.

Scott Doherty, who has a master’s degree in education and is an ACA kayak instructor, did the research for this piece on the Stikine and White Nile rivers.

This article first appeared in the Fall 2005 issue of Rapid Magazine. For more great content, subscribe to Rapid’s print and digital editions here.

Winds of Change: Can the Writings of Buddha Help Build an Environmental Ethic?

Stories

Photo: Jeff Jackson — Winds of Change: Can the Writings of Buddha Help Build an Environmental Ethic?

I write this from the eastern edge of the formerly independent region of Tibet. The small city of Kangding is tucked into a snow-capped valley just below the rim of the treeless, windy Tibetan Plateau. The ZeDuo River bisects town at a steep and constant class II then cranks up to class V below town before dumping into the big and surly Dadu River, which has the look and feel of B.C.’s Fraser River in flood.

I’m here as an ecotourism consultant at the request of the state government. Though it’s an area far off the beaten path, one where others rarely travel, the regional authorities are eyeing ecotourism as a means of conserving their beautiful landscape while providing sustainable economic growth. For the last two weeks I’ve worked with officials, entrepreneurs and educators to develop ecotourism training programs.

Workshop participants are eager to record my every word in their intricate Chinese script. They write busily and without discussion, unwilling to show disrespect by questioning ‘Teacher Jeff’. Occasionally, during frequent cigarette breaks, someone will apologize and slip my interpreter an anonymous note. On the second to last day I was asked: “How do we get local citizens to embrace environmental protection?” I didn’t have a meaningful answer.

At 1.3 billion people and an economy growing at 10 per cent annually—four times faster than any other developed nation—China has some of the most severe environmental problems on the planet: air pollution, erosion, loss of biodiversity, toxic water, river diversions, salinization and the

plain accumulation of trash are worse here than anywhere else I have been. As China accelerates towards “First World” status, and embraces the consumption that apparently goes along with it, all of these problems will get worse, possibly doubling the environmental impact humans inflict on the planet.

Officially, environmental protection is a vested national principle, but it has always taken a back seat to economic development. It’s a principle that has tangible meaning, however, to rural and traditional villagers, who have worked hard to conserve their landscape in order to hand it on to future generations. Folk songs swoon over the beauty of the Tibetan mountains and rivers, but they don’t mention the raw sewage, construction debris, animal guts and trash being dumped directly into the rivers in accelerating quantities. The ZeDuo is awash in garbage. Plastic bags mark the waterline, advertising in bright blue their slow degrading presence.

Canada was in a similar situation once, albeit with a fraction of the population on a bigger land mass. A concerted effort by activists and the integration of environmental education into the school system has slowly moved our national consciousness forward, although we still have a long way to go. Note the number of coffee cups floating in your home river.

China has markedly low education rates, having 20 per cent of the world’s population but spending only 1 per cent of the world’s education budget. In many cases, environmental degradation is the outgrowth of ignorance in people who have never been to school, nor been very far downstream to see what happens to the shit they throw in the river.

But with development also comes some progress, progress rooted in tradition. Liu Hong is a 30-year-old visionary who speaks fluent Tibetan, Mandarin, and a smattering of English. He travelled six hours by bus to come to one of the workshops. He has written a book on Tibetan culture, and won an award for his educational efforts.

Hong travels the countryside teaching locals how to preserve their culture in the face of massive economic change, and urges them to preserve their landscape. How does he do this? He invokes the writing of Buddha, who wrote that to pick a flower is to take a life. Liu builds on this idea within modern contexts and encourages communities to make their homes a place for “100,000 flowers to grow.” For this, he promises, they will be rewarded. My visit there was proof that some part of the state government thinks he is right.

The next day I shared the story of Hong with the last workshop group, including my anonymous question writer. It brought appreciative nods from all, and I could see thoughtful recognition on the faces of many. An environmental ethic is not about right and wrong—it is about making people proud of who they are, and proud of their home. It is as true in North America as in China, and it was as true in Buddha’s time as it is today. Liu Hong is reminding people of this, and is making a difference in the grasslands of Tibet.

Jeff Jackson is a professor of the outdoor program at Algonquin College in Pembroke, Ontario.

This article first appeared in the Fall 2005 issue of Rapid Magazine. For more great content, subscribe to Rapid’s print and digital editions here.

The Kernel of Truth

Stories

Illustration: Lorenzo Del Bianco — The Kernel of Truth

Ben Aylsworth’s Re-Actionary column has generated more letters to the editor over the last seven years than anything else in the magazine. Why? He thinks it’s because he finds the kernels of truth in our river culture that the rest of us are too scared to talk about. Or maybe we get letters because he’s just a class V jackass. Here’s a look back at what you might call the best (or worst) of Re-actionary and then, of course, it is up to you to decide.

CANOEING

Dinosaurs once ruled the Earth. They, like whitewater canoes, were big, slow and dumb. The world underwent radical change. For dinosaurs it was a meteor the size of Texas; for the Prospectorasaurus Rex it was the development of the second blade. The only dinosaurs that exist today are in museums. Come to think of it, isn’t there a national canoe museum?

Oh, one more thing, duct tape isn’t cool!

FAMILY LIFE

It’s not waterfalls or boulder-choked creeks, it’s chicks and newborn babies that are the most dangerous things that can happen to paddling guys. Chicks love that you love the outdoors. But they have an agenda. It’s lonely on the couch, and they will soon start resenting your paddling trips and your friends. So you go on walks, plan picnics, meet her parents and spend 20 bucks on romantic comedies starring Hugh Grant.

Babies are no different, except you can see them coming. Tick, tick, tick… you have nine months. Then when the one-day wave is up where are you? Lamaze.

NEW WAVE RIVER CULTURE

In the old days, when passing another car stacked with boats you could always count on a friendly wave from a comrade in arms. You were just saying, “Hey there fellow paddler, I love you,” and then you’d drive on past. It gave us the warm fuzzy feeling. Maybe the impersonal mentality that wafts up from the sewers of Toronto’s egocentric culture has finally poured its foul odour of indifference into our rivers.

GOOD OLD RAFTING BUDDIES

Gorbies are just awful. Where does all that white trash come from? How many times do you have to tell people that cotton isn’t an insulator? No, you can’t wear your high heels in the raft. What do you mean, how deep is the river? It’s as if when they bought their Styrofoam coolers they left their brains as a deposit. So where do they come from? I imagine a school bus outside Wal-Mart with a sign, “Rollback Rafting—$9.99.”

E-PADDLER NETIQUETTE

Paddling message boards are riddled with idiots. The guy answering the post is often as ignorant as the one asking the question. Remember that you are asking people who post under names like Yakinman, Phittybones and Mothra. Are you really going to buy a boat recommended by a guy named Rattso_del_Flatulato?

THE LOCAL PADDLERS

Beware of big fat liars! You ask a local paddler, “So what’s this run like?” His reply: “Oh my God, it’s this full-on colon-purging run that never ends. What boat are you paddling? Oh, that’s not good.” You have to ask yourself, can this inbred even paddle? I mean look at him in his coveralls playing his banjo. He wants you to believe his river is tougher than yours.

Hey Billy Bob, things are tough all over.

SLALOM

I’ve never really bothered writing about slalom; they are all jacked-up, whey-protein-enhanced egomaniacs. Then there’s kayak polo… Don’t get me started.

RIVER DOGS

It might paint a nice picture—rugged-looking, forty- something man wearing a plaid shirt, his vintage cedar strip by the placid lake, hearty fire casting warm light onto the obedient hound at his feet. What a load of crap! There is no peace or tranquility whilst your mutt rummages through my dinner scraps, howls at the moon and pisses on my tent. What do you mean, “What did I expect leaving my plate on the chair?” Oh, that’s right, it’s my fault he ate my plate of beef stroganoff.

KAYAK RODEO

Cowboy rodeo brings animal abuse to your local fairgrounds. They set up a corral and fill grandstands. Nobody watches kayak rodeo because to get to the event site you’ve got to have a master’s degree in orienteering and be sleeping with one of the organizers (I use the term “organizer” loosely). Take the freestyle team trials, the biggest event in the country. They’re usually held on the Ottawa River, an hour-and-a-half drive from anyone with teeth. You have to know the river, paddle to the site, and then hope the judges show up.

“Dude, like why isn’t your mom here to watch?” “Dunno.”

BIG ATTITUDE

I’m talking about little freestyle rats who believe that because they can air-blunt, they are super-fly Mac Daddies. The truth is Mr. Pimpleface, real Mac Daddies are driving tricked-out Mercs with lots of dough. You’re barely making it to the put-in in your mom’s shit-box Mazda, flat broke, with only your left hand to love you.

EXTREME ATHLETES?

We’re not young, hip or extreme. We’re 30 pushing 40, with desk jobs and sensible cars with baby seats. With white knuckles and nails dug-in we cling to the idea of being young. But we’re a far cry from the skateboaders and surfers of the world. It’s almost embarrassing. But to start telling the truth would mean we’d have to notice that the nachos we’re scarfing are pointing right at our shapely love handles sagging over our boardies.

DRIVING IN QUEBEC

Ten years of public school French classes amount to no help whatsoever. You’re in the woods, lost, confused and hungry and you’re dancing in tight black fuzzy rubber trying to show, with body language, the words you cannot say in French. Try acting out W-A-T-E-R-F-A-L-L, P-U-T–I-N and B-O-O-F to a grizzly lumberjack wielding a chainsaw in one hand and a cigarette, a can of 50 and a family-sized poutine in the other. You might be surprised to find out how much it looks like you’re saying, “I want to sleep with your wife.”

A LIFE ON THE RIVER

At the end of a life on the water there is no job, no recognized education, and few prospects. Only aching bones and outdated boats will remind you of all you have given to what we love. Like supermodels, pro boaters, raft guides and instructors are only as good as their last ride.

The true cost of paddling is more than the price of a new boat and gear. It can cost you your soul. Spend it wisely.

This article first appeared in the Fall 2005 issue of Rapid Magazine.

A Mighty Noise: Kayak Surfing into the Amazon

Stories

Photo: Mirco Garoscio — A Mighty Noise: Kayak Surfing into the Amazon

What

Kayak surfing the Porocora (“Mighty noise” in the local Tupi dialect), a two-metre-high tidal bore wave up to two kilometres wide.

Tidal bore waves form when the ocean’s incoming tide pushes into a river’s mouth and collides with the river’s outflow. With the weight of the ocean behind it, the tide forces itself over top of the river and a single wave moves upstream as fast as 25 kilometres an hour. Bores in some Amazonian rivers travel as far as 200 kilometres inland.

Where

The Mirian River, at the end of a long seldom-travelled road in Brazil’s Amazon Jungle.

When

Twice a day, but best around new and full moons.

Who

Corran Addison, Dan Campbell, Rusty Sage, Steve Fisher and Mirco Garoscio.

How

Corran Addison: “Surf kayaks were best for the wave. Playboats lacked speed and flushed quickly. We had support boats to drop behind the wave and pick us up when that happened, but you could be in the water for 20 minutes waiting for the boat to get through a break in the wave.”

How many

Even when all five paddlers were on the wave at once, there was still room for another 661 kayaks.

Why

Addison: “We had 15-minute rides that were a mix of surfing both a river wave and an ocean wave. The wave shape, and the way we surfed it, was much like a river wave, but you could actually see the riverbank zooming past you as you surfed, and you had the sensation of moving across the water like on an ocean wave.”

“The sheer roaring size of it as it worked its way upriver is guaranteed to make any man’s heart beat faster.”

Why not

Addison: “The dangers are the stuff of jungle legend, but that doesn’t mean that they aren’t on your mind. In the water there are anacondas, piranhas, crocodiles and candiru fish, which colonize your urinary tract. There’s a lot to think about when you’re sitting out there all alone waiting to be picked up after flushing.”