Currently Listening The Essential Johnny Cash By Johnny Cash see related

Summer 07 I love to Paddle.

So there's a bit of non-paddle entry here but I'll try to keep that part short. This summer I went to my sister's graduation in Wisconsin, visited a friend in Brookfield, took Physics II at UMSL in four weeks, went out East, flew to my uncle's wedding in California on Hollister Ranch and did all of California in 12 days, flew back East, and eventually wound up at school a day and a half before classes to start moving into a new apartment.

...and now for the 'went out east' and 'flew back east' section...

The Cheoah River looks amazing. I took some pictures of friends paddling, ran their shuttle, and really should have paddled with them. The whole 'but I just drove 12 hours' is not an excuse for a river that runs perhaps a few weekends out of the year. The Big-Un looked fantastic. I could totally picture a raft going over the center drop if you could get enough speed up to not piton in at the bottom.

The Chattooga River was just that. Chatt means rocky. We stopped asking what the level was in order to get an actual answer. Instead it was either 'point low' or 'point lower.' Although yes, 7ft proved a great battle to see if you could get the annoying guests out of your raft while keeping g-paw securely in his seat. The guide’s personalities came out a lot this summer since they found things to do besides paddle after work (like build a mini ramp, go long boarding, and brew beer). I learned a ton in the short time I was there about paddling – other people - rivers - water - and myself in general.

This summer was definitely one of those I’ll look back on and will continually amaze me.

I think there were a record number of Staph infections this year. Bactroban 2% was my savior. Another company eventually succumbed to the antibiotic resistant Staph and was pretty much desecrated for the rest of the season. This was scary - to realize that doing what you love most is not dangerous enough due to the undercut rocks or class V rapids - but rather a flesh eating bacteria that cannot be prevented no matter the number or frequency of your showers. Scary. A guy had his calf carved out because the antibiotic resistant Staph had eaten his leg away!

My first day back at the Chattooga I paddled my play boat (pyrhana s:6) with a section IV trip. It felt so great to be back on the water and surrounded by the mountains that not even my three roles in Jaw-Bone rapid could put a damper on my freakishly enjoyable day. I did the five falls a few times each and played in the pool below Soc-Em-Dog like I was in the rec filling my boat with water to do some messy bow stalls. On that first day I met most of the newbees and caught up with people I hadn’t swapped more than a few words with in a year. It was great. Then work started and by the end of my time there I was R-1ing my raft up the Camp Creek trail and tossing water coolers like it was nobody’s business. I made sure to paddle a hard boat again just before leaving on my last day off. The water was so low that I actually walked through The Gulch in Entrance rapid and stood on a rock between Entrance and Corkscrew as well as almost getting stuck at the top of Soc-Em-Dog for lack of water. Loved every moment of it.

People ask me how in the world I find it fun to paddle at low water. I don’t think they realize that paddling for me has never been about being macho, but rather a beacon of light in a very long, dark tunnel. During a single semester at school as a preDental student in a landlocked state with only one whitewater river whose peak season is the dead of winter does wonders for your way of thinking. For me, it just feels right.

That wasn’t much of a paddle blog but this file was on my computer so I figured I would post it.

(skip this part)

I had to explain my sport to the new head of the MIZZOU Club Sports department. She didn’t get it. She’s from NC and she didn’t get it. I tried for an hour and 10 minutes to tell her why we do not have 16 competitions a year or tell her three weeks in advance when we will be going on a trip, and all she did was GIGGLE when I told her that I loved the rain and painted my toe-nails blue. She thought it was silly. I said “…we’re a whitewater club, not a slalom racing team. We’re students who love to paddle and the school has always supported things students love to do.” She said we weren’t competitive. I said I didn’t feel like being in The Green Race. She said we needed to fundraise more money. I said we paid for our own things as had been the case for over 30 years. She said I needed to submit paperwork at least 3 weeks in advance. I told her to go find a weather man who would tell me when the Saint or a creek in town would be up 3 weeks in advance -- and to shove him up her ass. Whitewater. Silly. I think not. Sorry, that had nothing to do with actual paddling. I just hate ignorant people..

I was in a psychology study freshman year in college. They said that the only reason humans are alive is because they deal with the thought of death. The reasons we don’t kill ourselves at the thought of death are what we love to do and take pride in doing. They determined that my family, schoolwork, and a combination of kayaking and field hockey were the reasons I had found to occupy my mind instead of contemplating my own mortality. They didn’t have any idea what whitewater was. They had no idea I would soon become the president of a large university’s whitewater club. They knew, however – that it kept me alive. I thought it was funny at the time.

Currently Listening Black Magic By Swollen Members see related

Ocoee June 2007

Grant, Pete and I headed east Friday afternoon to what would become 'the best trip ever' just like every other. Friday night we camped out at River Rats (5 bucks each, not bad) and pitched my tent. Aside from me tapping Pete on the shoulder in my sleep and apparently screaming something when some dogs came up and barked at our tent around 2am the camp served nicely as a refresher for the paddling to come.

Saturday found us putting on and running shuttle just as the water started to surge on the Ocoee River in Tennesse around 9:30am. We ferried river left at the top of Grumpy's, surfed in a few friendly waves and holes, stopped to stern squirt on a nice eddy line, recovered Pete's things (including 50 dollar sandals ?!?) at the bottom of Hollywood Hole (Diamond Splitter) after he had a nice swim in the eddy below Table Saw, met an awesome Strider guy, got Grant into some stellar surfing action in Hell Hole, and worked on our paddling technique all day long.

After taking off around 3 or 4pm from our first run Pete and I decided to make what we could out of the day and so Grant drove us in his van back to the top to start over at Grumpy's where we met a guy named Ian who proved quite fun. Grant meanwhile, drove shuttle and played in Hell Hole where we met him at the end of our second run. Pete conquered his nemesis (Table Saw) with a good tip from our new friend Ian. Ian pointed out the obvious which somehow I hadn't been able to explain -- the big curler wave at the top, river left, is the one that flips people so ferry a bit to river right before you start down the wave train if you don't plan on eddy hopping down the rapid. With this advice and some more words of wisdom about a cool move at Flipper, Pete and I felt extremely satisfied with our second runs and made a democratic decision that although we'd done the river before - after that run we'd both improved quite a bit!

A trip to the Piggly Wiggly and one to the Gas Station had us set up in the state park campground for an evening of fire, red wine (no, we didn't drink alcohol in a state park), a beautiful lake view, homely neighbors, and more tent-camping fun. Next time we'll remember: to tell Grant not to forget his thermarest and for Pete to find non-rotten firewood the first time around...hmm, good times.

Sunday morning woke us a bit later than expected and so the group put on at Hell Hole around 10:30am where we played all morning and left by noon for the long trip home. Grant, Pete and I took turns snapping some great photos of each other surfing there which was pretty cool since I'd never gotten up the nerve to go in it.

Looking back, I don't really understand why I was afraid to get in Hell Hole before now. Logically thinking if you've paddled and raft guided the Chattooga, a hole on the Ocoee should be no problem. I blame my illogical fear on years of listening to my father and his friends talk about said Hole, which by the way has changed a ton since the first time they saw it.

Save Lower Rock Creek!!

The Missouri Wilderness Coalition has created a proposal for permanent legislative protection for seven "sensitive areas" on the Mark Twain National Forest.   We're bringing this to our members' attention since the MWA has formally endorsed the proposal along with many other organizations around Missouri.  This legislation is needed since the new Mark Twain Forest Plan only protects one of seven areas in Missouri.  A 1/7 on a homework assignment is a big fat F, as in FAIL.  This is a gigantic step.  It will become a hot issue soon.

Why?  The 2005 Mark Twain Forest service plan changed the protected status of Seven  “sensitive Areas.”  The 1985 plan had these areas designated as sensitive, giving them an extra level of protection; No timber harvesting, mining, road development or motorized intrusions.  The 2005 plan changed that.

A proposed salvage logging operation - precipitated by last spring’s tornado - in Lower Rock Creek and the recent flurry of ATV intrusions are prime examples of disruptive events in unprotected areas. I don’t own an ATV so I must be missing out on all the fun…  Through hard work the Coalition and others were able to put off the salvage operation.  According to Fredericktown District Ranger, Mike Weber, they can only postpone the scoping of the downed timber area for logging and burning if the Regional Office (directed out of Wisconsin) directs them to do so.  The status of motorized intrusions is still on the table, a sturdy table built for holding motorized vehicles, what a waste of my tax money!

The seven regions are:

¨      Smith Creek

¨      Swan Creek (to quote Tom Montgomery, “Once your have run Swan Creek everything else is just class IV “

¨      Big Spring

¨      Lower Rock Creek (venerable whitewater)

¨      North Fork

¨      Spring Creek

¨      Van East Mountain.

In total, it’s a mere 40,000 acres out of 1.2 million.

Our assignments are simple:  visit these places, learn about them, and be ready to support the effort to pass them as legally designated “sensitive areas,” once and for all. None of that includes me studying for classes, so I’m all in!  If you have not hiked into Lower Rock creek you are missing something.  It is a mere 20 minute drive and a short, beautiful walk from Silver Mines.

Other groups are meeting with the staff of their congressional delegation.  We are working on our strategy to alert our representatives and win support of Missourians across the state.  In order to pass a law we obviously need the support of our US Senators Kit Bond and Claire McCaskill; therefore any letters from our members could make the difference between a yay and a nay.  Jo Ann Emerson is key as five of these areas are in her district.  Her district by the way, seems to be everywhere in Missouri our Whitewater club tends to gather, you know like around the twisty tree at the put-in…

We need to spread the word about this proposal, visit and enjoy these areas, and support their preservation.  The legislative push should start to roll this summer.   Lets all DO SOMETHING!!  Okay, you pretend to be Harry Potter and we’ll call the new Mark Twain Wilderness Plan You-Know-Who…get it? Got it. Good.

Visit the Missouri Wilderness Coalition web site <www.mowild.com>

Currently Listening Waiting for My Rocket to Come By Jason Mraz see related

Clinic Weekend 2007 - A horrible attempt at poetry?

MWA Clinic Weekend: 2007

This weekend was our whitewater clinic weekend for beginners and intermediate paddlers. I decided to try my hand at open boating since kayaking and raft guiding have gotten kind of boring in the midwest with our lack of rain. I took the Ocoee (it's a kind of open boat...) down the Saint Francis river all weekend long and got to see all my paddling friends -- it's the only thing that really distracts me from studying. Anyhow, here it is...in poem format...if you last reading the entire thing you get a gold star. I don't claim to be a poet and I know my rhyming is corny and not complex but whateves...

Organic, Physics, and Cell Bio exam,

Signing a lease, doing laundry, and eating some ham.

Organic problems, and a Rec center boat retrieval,

A car ride with John full of Jason Mraz -- absolutely nothing feeble.

We drove off with the gas pump but John stopped just in time,

And despite blowing up nitrous oxide everyone at the campfire was fine!

From hiding behind boulders, to camping in tents,

Friday night found us away from the city, true outdoor descendants.

8am meeting at the pavilion put me in the OC-1 group

Chris Kelly as instructor, Sandy Osborn, Mary from Kansas, and Dennis to boot!

I got my boat off John's car and onto Chris Kelly's,

Used a fatty paddle surrounded by men who were smellys ;)

Took turkey creek by storm with a ferry and some circles,

Only falling in tying a shirt to the canoe, one of my many small hurtles.

I paddled in straight lines, eddy hopped, and surfed,

Filled my boat up with water at the dam, happy to be back on home turf.

Little drop proved sticky, high brace and then low

Almost everyone but me swam, and we put on a great show.

A few were bored with follow the leader and eddy hops

And so followed Dennis through some tight creek-like spots.

At the end of Saturday my body was worn,

Tried to ferry but felt like paddling against wind from a storm.

I talked to my friends Cindy, Stella, and Matt,

We checked out some kid's boat, twas an i:4 what's with that?!

Ate a dinner of brownies and headed back to group camp,

Walked with Cindy and Gary to Iowa using a headlamp.

We went to the damn and heard nitrous oxide booms far away,

We talked about life and things until there was nothing more to say.

The water, the stars, the moon and the sky

Surrounded our bodies as the time seemed to fly.

9 am found us at Fisherman's put-in, above Millstream Gardens

With a new paddle from Dennis, which caused my girly arm muscles to harden.

It was heavy in the flats above Entrance rapid -

But eddy hopping, offside peel-outs, and surfin' was placid!

Scouting Big Drop rapid from river left

Had Dennis showing us his hot moves, oh so deft...

Many of our open boats swam at Big Drop,

But somehow I made it down the left side with merely a flop.

Took the Ocoee through a fat man's squeeze,

Then ran the "Z route" in Cat's Paw like a forceful breeze;

As I caught the eddy near my cautious father

And ferried river left just a tad bit farther,

I heard a shout from Freddy but wasn't sure till the end

If it was encouragement, fear, or just an audible grin.

Missed the eddy river left at double drop rapid,

But carried up three times, fueling a frustrating bad habit.

Found my balance going forwards and backwards and sideways,

Was a bit dehydrated but sloshed gatorade anyways.

Climbed up some boats and rocks and a few paddles,

Slipped into eddies in Rickety Rack and fought upstream battles.

Met a cool open boater named Tray --

Gave me eastern advice all Sunday.

Watched him boof below the eagle tree,

Pointed out a line for him at little drop; for a drop in, and a wee!!

My gunnel was upstream and down near the water

But I didn't think twice about paddling harder -

I flicked my right knee down, and my left knee up

Braced with a low on the left, and kept an eye on the fluff.

At the end of the day I was slightly soggy with a side of cramped knee,

And so taught my mother how to ride in an open boat and do a ferry!

Talked to Corey and Cindy, and Stella and Chris,

Chatted with Gary and Dad as he popped open a Guiness.

The ride home was eventful and full of glee

All we did was drive and tighten the ropes on the Ocoee.

The wind tossed the boat and the boat tossed John's car,

But our trip was full of good tunes and I can't think of a boring moment so far!

(big drop, river left slot, me paddling the ocoee down the saint francis river)

...and a few words of wisdom from my roommate: "there is no cure for you emilee. life hurts. if it was easy it wouldn't be fun." - hannah

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