Written by Mark Johnson
Do you ever wonder what your face would look like under the pressure of certain life threatening danger that can only be prevented by vigorously heeding the commands of your fearless leader while simultaneously trying to squeeze out a fearful little toot? I do not, thankfully, because I have a photo of myself making that face.
Disregard the my boatmates who appear to be simply having fun splashing their way down the rapids. This photo perfectly captures the dualistic nature of paddling on whitewater; it is quite fun, and quite scary. And it’s fun to be a little scared! Over the course of the 2021 summer season Nic, and I got to scare ourselves a lot on the river learning to kayak while Nic worked as a raft guide.
Now, back to that old fear thing. Generally when in the grips of fear it is best to step away from the perceived danger, build some experience and then return with confidence. This rational has not seemed to affect our decision making very often and has resulted in a lot of floating down the river like this:
Time to say hello to the trout.
As luck would have it, whitewater kayaking seems to reward a disregard for self preservation. This has resulted in Nic and I going from not knowing how to roll a kayak in March to routinely running class IV rapids by August. A “roll”, for the uninitiated, is an essential skill to kayaking that allows the kayaker to right both themselves and their craft when, inevitably, they wind up running the rapids upside down and hitting their helmet against rocks instead of the bottom of the boat.
Because rolling a kayak is such a useful skill, it has been decided by most experts that a kayaker isn’t worthy of running a river until they have spent several days floundering in the pool and lake without successfully achieving a roll once. Many kayakers have a secret “trick” that they will enthusiastically shout at a beginner while they clear water from their sinuses from another failed roll attempt. These tricks are just that, and they are to be dutifully, verbally acknowledged and then promptly ignored on the next roll attempt. After a sufficient amount of failure on flat water, the aspiring kayaker should find a friend indifferent enough about their safety to take them out to fail on the river. This is where the motivation to roll is truly discovered: while swimming through rapids and watching your boat float away as your friend furiously chases it.
Nic and I enjoyed this experience with our kayak sensei, Brian, in the beautiful lower Rio Grande Box near Taos.
Newfound motivation from repeated swims on the Toas trip inspired Nic and I to spend time at the play wave “perfecting” our rolls. The play wave is a human-created river feature that is marginally less dangerous than a natural rapid. It makes for a great place to spend a lot of time upside down in a kayak only to be interrupted by the occasional moment of surfing.
All of our time at the play wave gave us a surprising amount of unfounded confidence to go out and run technical rapids on the Arkansas river with the patient and excited help of our friend Brian. We ran a variety of different stretches including the Royal Gorge, Browns Canyon, The Numbers Section, and Pine Creek Rapid.
At the end of the summer Nicolette and I took a trip with our friend, Ben, down the Gunnison Gorge. The Gunnison Gorge is a very unique whitewater run that, due to old water rights, runs very late in the season (as late as November sometimes) and involves hiking boats over a mile down to the bottom of the gorge after a drive over a technical 4×4 road. If you ever have the chance to experience this run, it is well worth your time and energy!
And a note from Nic
Learning to kayak has been so much fun! It is incredibly challenging and rewarding. While I love floating down the river in a big blue raft, kayaking is definitely my favorite way to experience the river. While you may inhabit your own boat, you never go alone. This inspired us, but especially Mark, to reach out to new people as potential paddling partners. More than a lot of other sports we partake in, we are heavily reliant on the competencies of our companions. Thankfully, we had our close friends Brian to lean on as we stepped up our paddling pursuits. He was there with us every time we stepped up into a harder set of rapids this season.
Plus you get to wear the dorkiest outfits, check out the low quality photo of Mark and I posing in the Lower Toas Box. And what’s that if you look closely at the images of us in the play wave? Yes, we do wear nose plugs.
Finishing off our season in the Gunnison Gorge was an exciting experience for us. Besides enjoying a beautiful stretch of river, this marked certain advancement in our kayaking progression. What had seemed like just a cool idea a few months before came to fruition with the confidence in our trip selection and planning and the trust our abilities to self rescue if something did go wrong.
Since that last trip, Mark has continued to contemplate the next paddling possibility with regular reflection on many of our runs from last season. While my sights have been set on skiing in the colder months, his enthusiasm is rubbing off on me and I too am starting to look forward to our next paddling adventure!