First time was on July 4th. DH and I went on the Rifle River up north. It was a great day weather-wise, and in spite of this, we saw no other people on the river during the three hours we floated.
It was amazing. I like steering around other boaters about as much as I like steering around other cars on the road. I drive mostly two-lane country roads for a reason. I hate traffic. So an empty river was the best possible holiday I could ask for.
The Rifle was a repeat for both of us. DH has canoed it several times, and it was the third river (third time kayaking at all) for me last year. It's not a real challenging river, but it does require some steering skill and a little ability to read the water if you want to stay dry.
Which I do. Want to stay dry, that is. Some people kayak and canoe with the intent to get wet. I do not. For me, it's more of "can I beat the river, or will it beat me?" If I come off it dry, I win. If I come off it wet, the river wins. I'm a very competitive person. I want to win.
I went kayaking all of five times, on five different rivers last summer. Which was the first kayaking season of my life. At first I was a bit trepid. Then I figured out a few ways in which a kayak is like a horse.
DH doesn't believe me in this analogy. He doesn't see a kayak being at all like a horse. But I do. Horses are one of the things in life I know best, and since they are an area of expertise for me, I try to find similarities between each new thing and horses. When I find the similarity, I better understand the new thing I'm trying to master.
So once I stumbled across those few connections, I was no longer such a timid kayaker. I felt less like a hostage to the boat and the water, and more like the captain. I was in charge, not the water. I could cause things to happen, or to not happen (like not getting wet!!). I went on tougher rivers each time, finishing the summer with the Sturgeon, which DH considers to be an intermediate level river at the minimum, and experienced boater level in sections.
I started the Sturgeon last year with the intermediate section. And stayed dry. And discovered I am not a recreational floater. I'm not in it to drift and drink and horse around with my river mates. No, I'm bored after an hour of drifting. Drinking doesn't much appeal to me. And horsing around, well, that requires equines, not people. I'm not into the whole splash and tip and dunk thing. Mostly because they involve getting wet. Remember, the kayaking diva does not want to get wet. Her goal is to get off the river as dry as when she got on.
So, I went from the 'easy' (or, rather, intermediate) section of the Sturgeon to the experienced section in one day. Yes, I stuck with the braver members of that float trip and continued on the harder section after lunch. And I stayed dry. (Yahoo! And my head got bigger, and bigger. . . )
As a result, a month ago, when DH and I were invited on a canoe/kayak trip in mid-July with some friends of his on two not-for-the-timid-boater rivers (at least, not for the timid if the timid want to stay dry), I said "YES I'LL GO!!"
It is now past mid-July. We have returned from the float trip. I got wet. And I lived. And I had one heck of a good time.
It was the Little Manistee River that got me. It beat me; I got taken by an eddy and washed into a tree lodged in the river, my boat tipped too much and I took on water faster than I could get off the tree. The river ran at approximately 14 mph in that spot. It was a section that is not recommended for anyone not an 'expert paddler'. (I told you my head got big.)
view from the put in at the start of the 'expert paddlers only' section.
That is pretty representative of the width of the river
all the way down that section, only the water picked up speed
(and dead trees) after the put in.
In my defense (head still pretty big, despite getting wet), that part of the Little Manistee is tight and quick, with lots of obstacles. Mostly trees in/over the river. And the only reason the eddy got me is that the boater immediately in front of me (a member of our group) was trying to go through the approximately 3' opening between the top of the tree and the bank, and he got lodged in the opening when he hit it wrong. With the river only being about 8' wide in that spot and the only way out plugged with somebody else's kayak, I had nowhere to go but into that dang tree. It was right after a tight and fast curve and I couldn't spin my kayak quick enough to go back upstream until the guy got his boat free. A little ways further down we had to portage because of a tree completely blocking the river.
I firmly believe that had that other guy made it through the chute, I would have stayed dry. Because there were other, tougher spots on that river before and after that spot, and I didn't have any trouble with them. There were also at least half a dozen spots with trees over the river where you only had clearance if you did the limbo in your boat, and I did those fine too. I'm glad I'm flexible enough to lay flat out on the kayak, LOL. Sometimes you had to point your paddle out in front of you to be 'skinny' enough to fit through an opening, which meant no steering until your arms and shoulders were through.
So in my book, the river beat me, but it had assistance. Plus, every member of our five person "you must be completely insane" group to tackle that section of the river got wet. Including DH, who insisted in taking his 16-foot canoe through it when it is only recommended for kayaks. (What can I say; he's about as hard-headed as I am.)
The following day we did the Pine River, which has a similarly fast flow, but is wider. It doesn't have hardly any trees as obstacles, but it does have lots of rapids. And big rocks. Boulder sized rocks that lurk just under the surface. And tons of other boaters. About a hundred other boats in the five hours we were on the river. Boats that were constantly bumping into you, or flipping over in front of you, or otherwise generally being a nuisance.
Giant rocks and out of control boats, oh joy. Diva mode full on. Maybe on overdrive. I wanted those other boats gone. I wanted the river to myself. I didn't want to lose to rocks or idiots.
I beat them.
Head back to bigger than it should be. Maybe because that is one part of me that the Little Manistee didn't get wet. I had stepped out of my kayak before it capsized, rather than getting rolled and dunked. The water was about three feet deep in that very spot. So only the lower half of me got wet. ;0)
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