Real Kayakers Wear Skirts! (Part 4: Gently Down the Stream?)

Part 4 of the story of my ill-advised whitewater kayaking trip down the Penobscot river picks up with me looking like a drowned rat at the base of Big Ambejackmockamus Falls (class IV). The first three parts of the story can be found at:

“Are you ok?” the kayaker on the rocky outcropping above me shouted, noticing me for the first time. I looked up, catching a glimpse of the tip of my kayak churning around in the whirlpool right behind her.

“Yeah,” I’m ok, “but I could use some help.” I had no idea how I was going to safely retrieve my kayak, or whether or not it was even still in one piece… it might just be mangled mess. The kayaker stared at me, unmoving, so I decided to wade from my rock, up to where she was standing. The water was knee-deep, but the current was strong and the rocks were slippery. I slipped once, falling back and bruising my butt (miraculously the only injury I sustained) on my way to her rocky perch.

By the time I joined her, another kayaker had arrived. They both looked at me, confused and said, “You don’t have the right gear for this.”

“No, no I don’t…” I affirmed. I knew that I was still in shock, but was surprised that they seemed to be as well. “I shouldn’t be here… there’s no way that I should be here… I shouldn’t be on anything harder than a class II,” I said while they looked at me silently, still befuddled. “I could use some help getting my kayak and paddle back.”

“Sure,” they said as we watched the kayak and paddle for a minute as they rotated around the pool for the fourth of fifth time. They talked briefly and one of them left, leaving the other to help me. We were only distracted for a minute, but by the time we looked back at the whirlpool the kayak was gone…“Where’d the kayak go,” asked the woman that had stayed… I studied the water, looking for the kayak’s white-tip, amongst the foam… “I don’t know,” I replied with the sinking feeling that it may have finally succumbed to the rapids and was now at the bottom of the river.

“There it is!” she said pointing to a spot about 100 yards downriver. I looked at the paddle, still in the whirlpool, and at the boat downriver… “What should we do?” she asked. I didn’t want to face that waterfall again, or the whirlpool below it, so I said, “Why don’t you go for the paddle, and I’ll go for the boat!”

Horse Race (Class II)

“It’s a nice day for a swim!” I yelled to the raft that as I swam past it. After the insanity of the swimming through class IV rapids, swimming with the current towards my boat was actually quite pleasant.

“You don’t want to swim this, it gets really shallow!” yelled the whitewater rafting guide as I approached. “The other raft has your kayak” he continued as I floated by him, “If you want we can give you a ride down to it!”

“Sure!” It was an offer I couldn’t refuse, besides I could see the ripples of rocks ahead and my goal was still to have the least exciting kayak trip possible (which I’d completely failed at). “Just swim on over to us,” the guide instructed… I tried not to laugh… The raft was at least 20 feet upstream, and I was in the middle of the strongest part of the current… At my strongest and most rested it would have been pretty ridiculous to think that I’d be able to swim upstream towards them… At best I could try to get out of the current, swim towards their side of the river, and maybe slow down… if I was lucky! “You’re going to have to come to me,” I replied.”

Eventually the raft pulled up beside me, “Hop on in!” they instructed… I grabbed the safety rope, which ringed around the outside of the raft, and floundered as I attempted to pull, push, and kick my way over the ginormous lip of the boat… It just wasn’t happening… “I’m gonna need some help!” I exclaimed, tightening the side straps on my life jacket so they could grab it to help pull me in… Even with their help, it took two more tries before I managed to roll up over the side, and into the raft.

“What happened? How did you end up here?” the guide asked as I perched on the edge of the raft. He was also clearly baffled by my presence… “Well, a friend dropped me off upriver. He said I should expect still water with occasional class II’s, but that,” I shook my head, “that wasn’t a class II!”

“Class II?!” chimed in one of the rafters, “These are Class IV’s and V’s, maybe your friend is dyslexic.. He saw the 5 and thought it was a 2?”

“Are you ok?” the guide interrupted. “Well, I’m a little shaken up,” I replied honestly. “But medically speaking,” he pressed, “Are you ok?”

“Yeah,” I said lifting up my arms and looking myself over, “medically speaking, I’m fine.” I was actually surprised that I didn’t see any bruises on my arms and legs after all of that!

“So what happened?” he asked again. “It looks like it must have been pretty epic! When we spotted you, you were already down passed our photographer at Ambejack’s second drop…”

“Well, considering my kayak doesn’t have a skirt and I was only expecting class II’s I did ok, but there’s no way I should have ever ended up there…” I began, and regaled them with my tale of kayaking and then swimming through what I learned was Ambejackmackamus Falls. “You’re photographer probably got some crazy photos of me as I went by!”

“Our photographer didn’t even see you,” the guide replied rather solemnly. “Really?” I was surprised, I’d gone through the falls right in front of her… How could she have missed me?

“When we first saw you we thought you were a bag of trash,” one of the guys at the front of the boat said, joining the conversation. “Yeah,” interjected another, “we were wondering what kind of jerk would throw their trash into the river!”

“Well, I guess I am hiker trash,” I laughed, thinking that it was kind of fitting and realizing I should get brighter and more obviously colored gear…”What DO you have in your backpack?” the guide asked. I’d forgotten that I was even wearing a backpack, but clearly the green and black backpack was what they say and thought was trash. “My camera, a first aid kit, and a towel,” I replied… “Do y’all have any water? I took mine out of my pack before hitting those rapids and now its long gone.”

“No, we don’t, but you can have this beer we found floating in the river,” suggested one of the rafters. “Really?” I asked… Somehow beer wasn’t what I was expecting to be offered. “Yeah, A whole, unopened beer!” a different rafter chimed in, holding up a pristine looking can of PBR… “It’s been in the river though, you probably don’t want to drink it.”

“I’ve swallowed plenty of river water already today, I’m not worried about what might be on the edge of the can!” I laughed, looking at the beer… “Sure, I’ll take it… rafting down a river with a PBR in hand… I might as well embrace my hiker trash roots!”

As we continued floating down the river the barrage of questions continued, “Who dropped you off?”… “A friend”… “What kind of friend would do that? Were they trying to get rid of you?”… “No,” I replied, “but come to think of it, they were hoping to restore my faith in God!” As I reflected on it some more, the morning bible study (psalm 147) my new friends had had around the campfire that morning and the conversation surrounding it was eerily relevant to my day… “What is the lesson that you learned from this morning’s bible study?” the father had asked his son Noah at the end of the lesson. “To be humble,” he had replied. To be humble… My experience on the river that morning had definitely reinforced that lession! Humbling… that was definitely the word of the day!

Afterward: Nesowadnehunk

At the base of the Horserace rapids the raft that I was on finally caught up with the raft that had my kayak. They were all going to skip the Nesowadnehunk Deadwater. It was too calm to be of interest to them, but sounded perfect to me. It was still early in the day, and a nice relaxing paddle along the river still sounded nice. I checked my kayak, it was still river worthy. It had survived the class IV rapids and was still watertight!!!

“What’s the river like between here and Abol Bridge?” I quizzed the 6 rafting guides as they herded their rafters onto buses to skip the boring part of the river. “Well, there’s two miles of this Nesowadnehunk Deadwater, which is an easy paddle, and then there’s Nesowadnehunk Falls, a class IV waterfall with a big drop, but there’s a portage around that. Then, after that there’s maybe half a mile of class II shallows before you get to the Abol Deadwater, which will bring you the last 3 miles down to Abol bridge.”

“All of that sounds good, but I sure as heck don’t want to go anywhere near the falls!” I replied. “How do I know when I’m getting close to it? How do I make absolutely sure that I avoid it? Where exactly is the portage?” I must have sounded like a broken record as I quizzed them over and over and over again about avoiding the falls… They were going to stop for lunch at the other end of the deadwater, and that would be my first clue… the portage would be on the left after that, and it would allow me to carry my kayak around the falls and put in down below in the gentler waters.

“Ok,” I replied when I felt like I had a good mental picture of the river and its major hazard… Since the portage was on the left side of the river, so I figured I would paddle the rest of the way hugging the left shore, and the minute I saw anything that looked like a portage or whitewater I’d be outta the water and onshore faster than you could say, ‘rapid.’

After a gently, uneventful paddle, I got to the end of the deadwater where my new rafting friends were stopped for lunch. I wasn’t in a hurry, and I was still a little nervous about the falls ahead, so I stopped to chat with the river guides again.

“So, can you tell me more about the portage around this next falls?” I asked, still unable to remember or pronounce the names of any of the landmarks along the river. “It’s coming up on the left side of the river. It’ll have a sign for it, just like the last one up at Ambejack.” I gave him a worried looked… “Uh-oh, there was a sign for the last one? I definitely missed it… How do I make sure I don’t miss this one?”

“The sign has a canoe on it, and it’s about this big,” the guide made a small square with his hands, indicating that the sign was about 6 inches by 8 inches, “and it’s tucked back into the brush on shore.” It didn’t sound encouraging… no wonder I’d missed the last one.

“You could do that,” one of the other guides interrupted, “but I’ve done it… the trail is overgrown, and the put-in sucks.. it’s full of brush… If I were you, I’d take-out over at the other rafting groups lunch spot, which is right before the falls. Then all you have to do is carry your kayak up to the Golden Road, walk a couple hundred yards along it, and then follow the trail back down to the falls… It’s shorter than the official portage and the put-in is right at the base of the falls and is way better!”

“Where’s their lunch spot, and how will I know when I’m getting close to the falls?” I asked, trying to get as much information as possible before deciding to get back on the river. “They’re the second take-out down on the right, on the side of the river that we’re on now, and they’re right before the falls. You’ll know the falls are coming because you’ll hear them!” I asked a few more questions, but was eventually convinced that the ‘golden road portage’ was the best option for me.

“Good luck!” my new friends cheered me on as I nervously got back onto the river, paddling so close enough to the bank that I could reach out and touch it… I carefully studied the river and its shoreline as I carefully proceeded… Everything was still gentle and quiet. As I rounded the next bend I saw first one, and then two small sandy spits on the right side of the river… They were obscured by brush and looked about 3 feet wide, certainly not as big as the last rafting groups lunch spot, but as I got closer I could definitely hear the distant roar of waterfalls. I didn’t see any signs of whitewater, and wasn’t sure that this was the rafter’s lunch spot, but I was definitely pulling myself, and my boat, out of the water there!!

As I pulled my kayak onto the bank, I still wasn’t sure that I was in the right place… All I could see were the encroaching laurel bushes, and a steep jeep road rising into the pines… “I guess I’ll find out!” I thought as I lifted my kayak up onto my shoulder and started hiking up the road… By the time I’d taken five or ten steps the brush fell away, and was looking at a picnic area in where someone was busily preparing paella for about 100 people. This was definitely the right spot! I paused briefly to say hi, and continued up the steep slope of the jeep road.

“What are you doing on this side of the river!” a guy stuck his head out of his van, and yelled at me as I approached the Golden Road. “The portage is on the other side of the river,” he continued condescendingly.

“I know,” I replied setting my kayak down for a second, “but I heard that the portage on that side was brushy and that going this way was better.”

“No, it’s not… It’s really long to go this way,” he said pointing to where I was headed. “You should really go back and portage on the other side of the river.” I stared at him blankly… Was I going to trust the dude in the van, or the river guides? I picked up my kayak, turned away from him, and continued towards the Golden Road.

“Suit yourself!” he yelled after me… I didn’t even pause… So what if he was right? Long walks I could handle… Accidentally missing a portage spot and going through more class IV rapids, no way… Let me tell you how many miles I would walk to avoid that… All of them!!!

I probably walked less than 100 yards along the golden road before I spotted a parking area on the right and a large trail on the left. I set the kayak down and asked two people that were crossing the road if this trail led to the falls. “Yup,” they replied.

As I picked my kayak up, the kayakers that helped me out earlier pulled up and started to unload, “You found it!” they exclaimed gleefully as I headed down the steep trail to the sandy put-in at the base of the falls… “Yeah,” I thought as I got to the river and looked back at the falls, “I found it, and I portaged the fu** out it!”

The waterfall looked insane… I was really glad not to be kayaking over it, but I have to admit, when the rafters got there and started to play on it, I was jealous… I wanted to borrow a helmet, jump into one of the rafts, and play on the class IV rapids the right way!

THE END

P.S. From there to Abol Bridge is the 3-mile section of stillwater (nothing worse than Class II) that runs along the Appalachian Trail that I had scouted before, and thought that I was getting myself into! The AT runs so close to the river that at one point I saw some long-distance hikers, and they helped me take a picture of my kayak on the trail that I call home… I was definitely looking forward to getting off of the river and back into the mountains… The mountains may be scary, but they’re my kind of scary…

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Real Kayakers Wear Skirts! (Part 3: Taking the Plunge)

Nesowadnehunk Falls (class IV) rapids on the Penobscot River

“And finally, there’s the Penobscot – lovingly referred to as the Nob by many. What it lacks in repetitive quantity, it makes up for in terrifying quality. The bigger rapids are heart racing and undeniable Class V… or stronger. This is a river you don’t want to swim.” -Review: U.S. Rafting – Penobscot River

Here’s Part 3 of the story of my accidental whitewater kayaking trip through Class IV rapids (Big Amberjackmockamus Falls) on the Pebobscot River… It’s continued from: “Real Kayakers Wear Skirts! Part 1: The Calm Before the Storm” and “Real Kayakers Wear Skirts! Part 2: In Over My Head.” If you are afraid of water or have had a near-drowning experience etc, you may want to skip this post. Otherwise, let’s pick up from where we left of…

I knew that as soon as I paddled through the crest of the wave in front of me, water would spill into my kayak, and it would capsize… but the only hope I had was in embracing my fate… besides… maybe I was wrong…

“Whoosh” the sound of roaring water filled my ears, and surrounded my body as the water pulled me out of my kayak and into its depths. I wasn’t afraid… I was too busy fighting for my life to be afraid… I was being tumbled just below the surface of the water in what felt like a giant washing machine… I worked with the downstream current to kick my way towards the surface. Succeeding briefly, I took a giant gulp of air before getting pulled back down under the surface and into the spin cycle again.

“Resistance is futile,” I reminded myself not to struggle against the current, but to try to guide my body through them instead…I bobbed to the surface briefly and won a second gulp of air… I was still in the spin cycle, but I was moving downstream, away from the original thing, the original trap, and into something new.

The third time my head bobbed to the surface I was able to keep it there. “I love my life jacket,” I thought as I took in a real breath of air. My life jacket was saving my life, and I knew it! With my head above water I was finally able to look around for my kayak… It was less than 10 feet away, upside down, with about a quarter of the bow visible above the water… My kayak was sinking.

I swam to it, grabbed the neoprene loop attached to the bow, and rested for a second enjoying the buoyancy that the kayak had retained. I looked at the river ahead of me… it looked like there was some really big whitewater and another big drop coming up… “I love my life jacket, but I sure wish I had a helmet,” I thought as I realized I wasn’t out of the danger zone yet.

I tried to pull the kayak towards the rocks on the left side of the river where I could see the kayaker stopped, and still taking pictures, but I couldn’t get the kayak to budge… at all… It was half-sunk, it was heavy, and it was completely under the river’s control.

A split second later the kayak started to pull me forcibly as the front end of it went over the next drop… I pulled back on it, desperately trying to save it, trying to keep the kayak from completely disappearing into the rapids and under the water forever. “It’s so expensive, I can’t afford to loose it!” was the first thought that ran through my mind.

“I don’t want to let go, I don’t want to,” I pleaded with the water, still reluctant to let it go even though I knew that I had to… The boat was going down, perhaps to the bottom, perhaps to stay there, and that was not where I wanted to go!

“Just let it go…” I calmly released the kayak to its fate as I said the words, and came to peace with it… All of life seemed distilled into that moment… On the river, in a fight for my life, and I had to pause to make the conscious decision to just ‘let go’…

It seemed so apropos to my life… Needing to let go in order to find my way through troubled waters… Recognizing that holding on isn’t always the right choice… Realizing that there’s no sense worrying about what’s going to happen tomorrow, when you’re drowning today… First things first, you have to figure out how to keep your head above water!

The tip of the kayak disappeared over the edge, and my moment of clarity was gone… I had just enough time to take a deep breath of air before the water carried me over the edge of the second drop and pulled me under.

I couldn’t breath… all I could see was foamy white, all I could hear was “ROOAAAARRRR.” The water churned me and tumbled me… I would go where the water took me, and I didn’t have much choice in the matter… It took me to the surface briefly and I drew in as much air as I could, knowing it wouldn’t last long… I got pulled under again before I had any sense of where I was or what was coming next…

Control was an illusion… I had none… I was at the mercy of an unmerciful river… As I bobbed to the surface again, and again… each time gasping for air… I thought of apples bobbing in the water and was slightly jealous of them… The apples got to stay near the surface of the water most of the time… I didn’t seem to be that lucky…

I suddenly felt like I was 9 years old again… Caught in the undertow at Misquamicut Beach in Rhode Island… I loved Misquamicut Beach because it had gigantic waves, but every once in a while one of the waves would hit me wrong, and instead of riding on top of it, I’d end up riding inside of it… Getting caught inside one of those massive waves meant getting caught in a nasty cycle where the surf would crash me against the shore, the undertow and rip current would then drag me back into the surf, and if I was lucky there would be a brief window where I could gasp for air before the next wave came, tossing me back towards the shore and sending me through the ringer all over again in what felt like an endless cycle…

I laughed a little to myself as the whitewater swirled me around below the surface of the river and thought, “When most people talk about the outdoors making them feel young again, I’m sure that this isn’t what they envision!” … But honestly, I couldn’t (and still can’t) think of any other experience where I have so thoroughly felt like I was a kid again…

My head bobbed up to the surface, and this time I was able to get a full breath of air, the giddiness of hypoxia still clinging to me, I once again thought, “I love my life jacket!” My life jacket was saving my life and making my experience less harrowing than my nine year old experience… It made it so that I always knew which way was up, and that made a world of difference!

For the first time since I let go of the kayak I was able keep my head above the surface long enough to see where I was… I was right in front of the kayaker taking pictures of the rafters… I had no idea where my kayak was, but I was almost out of this crazy whitewater… There was just one last massive drop in front of me… Before I could try to communicate with the nearby kayaker, or do anything else, I got pulled back under the water and over the edge of the third, and final drop…

I went down, then bobbed up through the whitewater, gasping for air at the surface… My lungs were starting to get tired of this sh**… I got pulled back under again… when the upward current finally grabbed me and started pulling me upwards again, I tried to use it to swim both upwards and outwards… When I surfaced, gasping for breath, I was noticeably further from the drop this time… I got pulled under one last time before finally making it up to the surface and being able to stay there…

Still gasping, I looked downstream for the closest place that I could safely swim to shore, and immediately started making my way towards it. Each breath seemed to hurt, which annoyed the heck out of me… I finally had all this good clean air to breath, but my lungs were revolting, they just weren’t ready for it yet… they were still mad at me for the ordeal I’d just forced them through.

“Are you ok?” Shouted the rafters downstream. I was still out of breath, so I lifted my hand out of the water, smiled, and gave them a thumbs-up… I couldn’t tell if they saw it, or not… I was ok, but my mission was to make it to shore… I needed to focus on that, and couldn’t afford to waste time reassuring them.

I crawled out of the water, onto a rock, stood up, and started to catch my breath… I was exhausted and I knew it… I needed to take a few minutes to rest… “Well, I survived it,” I thought, “and I love my life jacket!” I’d worn a lifejackets religiously, every single time I’d gotten into a boat for all of my life, hundred if not thousands of times, and until today they’d always just been bulky annoyances… but today… today I loved my life jacket more than anything else in the world!

After a couple more breaths I began to wonder about my kayak… Had it survived? If it had, how was I going to get it back? I was pretty confident that the paddle would be long gone. I looked downrivier… nothing… I looked upriver… It had survived! It hadn’t sunk to the bottom of the river and disappeared forever… at least not yet… and even more amazingly? The paddle was floating right beside it!

The kayak, was full of water, and standing almost vertically at the base of the falls… Just the tip of it visible above the surface and as I watched, both the kayak and paddle slowly began to rotate in a large circle around the pool at the base of the waterfall… they were caught in a whirlpool… How in the world was I going to get them out? Especially the kayak, which filled with that much water was going to be really, really heavy?

I turned my back on them and looked downriver… It didn’t matter… I wasn’t going to try to get them now, because that would be completely and utterly stupid… I needed to give my body a few minutes to recover before I considered doing anything else! One thing at a time!

TO BE CONTINUED in “Real Kayakers Wear Skirts! Part 4: Gently Down the Stream?”

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An article about the first know passage through Ambejackmockamus Falls

Real Kayakers Wear Skirts! (Part 2: In Over My Head)

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Spot Locator Coordinates from the start-, and end-points of my whitewater kayaking trip!

I had no idea what awaited me as I kayaked down the West Branch of the Penobscot River towards my campsite at Abol Pines… I thought that I was headed for a relaxing day of still water, and class II (novice) whitewater… If I’d had the slightest clue that I was headed towards ledges, waterfalls, and class IV (advanced) rapids with my collapsable ORU kayak, I would have turned around and run the other way… Instead, I was happily, if somewhat cautiously paddling downriver from Big Eddy, and looking forward to my newest adventure… (Check out “Real Kayakers Wear Skirts! Part 1: The Calm Before the Storm” for the back story)

Little Ambejackmockamus Falls (Class III+)

As I paddled down the river I continually scouted ahead of me looking for whitewater and drops (the places where the water drops out of sight, below the horizon)… I didn’t expect to see any, but ever since encountering surprise rapids and drops on a tubing trip on the Nolichuky River in Tennessee, I always keep an eye out for them… especially on unfamiliar rivers.

After paddling for about a mile, I saw some whitewater ahead. It looked a little rougher than I expected for Class II, but not too scary… My brain started calculating trajectories, trying to figure out the least exciting (safest) path through the whitewater… From where I was it was clear that the path to the left had the most obstacles, so I followed the open channel in the middle towards the bend… As I paddled through the channel the next stretch of whitewater came into view… the left side of the river definitely looked rougher, so I veered to the right where I figured I’d be able to avoid the worst of it…

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I paddled through the easy chutes, dips, and waves, and found it absolutely exhilarating! My brain was constantly modeling, mapping, and optimizing my route while my body made-it-happen… I was in the zone! I’d always thought of kayaking as a relaxing, low-energy sport, and had never considered taking up whitewater kayaking, but as I fought my way through what felt like a challenging line I thought, “This could be a lot of fun!” The route-finding aspects of it reminded me of rock-climbing, but with more engineering… and my college fluid dynamics classes were finally coming in handy!

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The view Penobscot River as viewed from Abol Bridge, ME

“This is why people kayak with skirts,” I had thought when the first wave had crashed into my boat and left a small deposit of water. Each successive wave had similarly felt the need to leave a souvenir in my boat, so by the time I got to the end of the first rapid (Little Ambejacmackamus Falls) I was sitting in an inch-deep puddle of water… I wasn’t in any danger of capsizing, but the water was changing the way my kayak handled, so I decided to play it safe, pull over, and take a break.

I dragged my boat out of the water and looked back at what I’d just come through, it didn’t look like a Class II to me… I’d felt comfortable and in control as I’d gone through it, but I would have guessed it to be closer to a Class III… “I wouldn’t want to be going through anything rougher than that, but that was kind of fun,” I thought as I emptied out my boat.

Selfie taken on a section of stillwater on my kayaking trip down the Penobscot River

With a smile on my face, I got back in my kayak and headed down the river. The water was relatively calm, and I relaxed into the steady rhythm of paddling… It was really great to be outside again! After about a mile, I could see the signs of some whitewater down by the next bend… From a distance it looked fairly similar to what I’d just gone through, but I wanted to check it out so I paddled towards the right side of the river. I hoped that from there I’d be able to get a sneak peak of what lay around the corner. It didn’t really help… It was a tight corner and I couldn’t see much, but it was clear that this water was definitely more violent than what I’d just gone through…

“Oh sh**! That’s definitely not class II,” I thought as the current propelled me forward and I got a closer look at the frothy water ahead… I scanned the banks looking for a place to portage, but didn’t see anything… Nothing!… I’d gone towards the right-side of the river to try to scout out the bend, but now a steep rock ledge was rising up in front of me, fast… There would be no bail out points on this side… and I still didn’t see any bailout spots on the other side…

  • “Portage or portaging is the practice of carrying water craft or cargo over land, either around an obstacle in a river, or between two bodies of water. A place where this carrying occurs is also called a portage.”-Wikipedia

Even though I didn’t see anywhere to portage on the far side, the shore looked brushy, not cliffy there, so I hoped that I might be able to make something work… Could I safely cross to the other side of the river? I did a quick assessment of the river and its currents… No, I couldn’t safely get across… I’d committed too far to the right side of the river while trying to scout the rapids… Now, to get to the other side of the river before the rapids started I’d have to cut an almost perpendicular line across it… I’d end up broadside to the current, a sure recipe for capsizing my kayak, and then I’d end up swimming the entirety of whatever lay ahead… that seemed like a bad plan.

In the blink of an eye, the rapids started, and my dreams of portaging around whatever lie ahead disappeared…

The view of Katahdin from my Oru Kayak after I’d gone through some of the rapids on the Penobscot River in it!

Big Ambejackmockamus Falls (Class IV)

I had passed the point of no return, so I braced myself and prepared to face the unknown…

I entered the rapids with laser focus, there was no room for doubt or uncertainty… My brain was calculating, my body acting, and both were engaging with my environment in a perfect symphony of effort… As the waves crashed around me, all conscious thoughts were replaced… It was all calculations, actions, and reactions… My movements were smooth, and my lines were good… I was through the fist 90-degree bend in the river, through the straight-away, and coming into the next bend… This was well beyond my skill level, but I was doing it!

“Fu**!…” I whimpered. I was coming up on the second 90-degree bend in the river, when I finally caught a glimpse of what was ahead… I started to panic… My boat was filling with water, the worst was yet to come, and I was already at the top of my game…

“Don’t Panic! Panicking never makes it better! Don’t… Panic…” I reminded myself, quelling my panic and getting back to the task at hand… It didn’t matter if my plight was completely and utterly without hope… I would own it, and there was a certain kind of hope in that… I took a deep breath, paddled through the wall of water in front of me, and went over the first drop…

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The whitewater surged around me, but miraculously, my kayak and I both made it through the drop in one piece!… In between waves I could now see a whitewater kayaker pulled ashore to the left side of the rapids ahead of me, and I could see a couple of rafts full of people further down… The end was in sight, maybe I would somehow make it all the way through?… Or even better, if that kayaker could pull out of the water over there, maybe I could too?!  My origami kayak had gotten me through more of the whitewater than I could have ever imagined, but it was almost completely full of water now, and I had no way to stop and empty it… I was in way over my head… If I could get off of the river and out of these rapids I definitely would!

I was still on the right-side of the river, but the kayaker was on the left bank of the river so I shifted my heading slightly, hoping to slowly make my way towards them. As soon I began to alter my course, my kayak suddenly slipped into a hole… a small, seemingly still spot, surrounded by walls of whitewater… The wave in front of me looked huge! It must have been at least five feet tall…

  • Hole or hydraulic: “A river feature created when water flows over a rock or shelf in the river, drops, comes back up, mixes with the air and travels upstream back toward the obstacle that it flowed over.  This creates green water that is flowing downstream and a foam pile or backwash of aerated water that flows back up and into the green water creating a continuous flow cycle.”

Time seemed to stop then, with the gigantic wave hanging above me… I looked at the level of water in my boat, it was almost completely full… All of the stories I’d ever heard about small boats taking on water, and facing giant waves flooded through my mind… For the first time in my life, I felt like I truly understood what they must have been going through…

My kayak was brilliant… It wasn’t sinking, but the water had given it a critical instability… Any more water, and it was going to tip… It didn’t matter how well I handled the looming wave in front of me, the physics of it were impossible… The boat was going to capsize! I was going to end up swimming…

“I know the physics are impossible, but maybe I’m wrong… maybe somehow this will work,” I mumbled as time resumed and I started to paddle out of the hole, towards the crest of the wave… I knew that as soon as I went through the crest, water would spill into my boat and it would capsize, but the only hope I had was in embracing my fate… besides… maybe I was wrong.

TO BE CONTINUED… See “Real Kayakers Wear Skirts! Part 3: Taking the Plunge”

Real Kayakers Wear Skirts! (Part 1: The Calm Before the Storm)

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Sunrise over Abol Bridge Campground and Mt. Katahdin, ME


 Knowing what I know now, I would have made different decisions… I may be an expert hiker, but when it comes to kayaking I’m still a novice and I know it. There’s absolutely no way that I would have knowingly chosen to kayak through class IV (advanced) rapids in my origami kayak (Oru Kayak), never mind doing it alone, and without a spray skirt!! No way! So how is it that I ended up in way over my head on the West Branch of the Penobscot River, swimming through Big Ambejackmockamus Falls?

Setting the Stage:

“What’s your plan for today?” asked the woman sitting across from me at the picnic table. She and her family had invited me to share their campsite late last night after seeing me wander around the campground hoping to find a non-existent empty spot. This morning when her family invited me to join them for breakfast, I’d found their kindness and generosity (not to mention the smell of bacon) irresistible.

“I don’t know, I’ll probably just lounge around all day,” I replied stifling a yawn as I watched her four boys romp gleefully around the campsite. As the youngest (~2 yrs old) dodged towards the river, it occurred to me that my kayak was in the trunk of my car… The Penobscot River, which was right there in front of me, looked like it had a really strong current (actually ~2300 cubic feet per second, cfs)… Much stronger than the currents in the rivers I was used to (100-300,cfs), but a relaxing paddle on a nearby lake could be nice, so I added, “Maybe I’ll take my kayak to one of the lakes around here later.”

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Five tents crammed into a site at Abol Bridge Campround across the river from where I stayed at Abol Pines Campground.

Sitting still has never been my strong suit, so as the morning warmed up and it became apparent that my new friends were going to stick around the campsite for a bit, I asked them if they’d be willing to keep on eye on me while I took my kayak out for a quick spin on the swiftly moving Penobscot River… They heartily agreed, and Gabe, their nine-year-old son, offered to help me carry my stuff over to the small launch point at Abol Bridge.

“Is that really a kayak?” Gabe asked as I pulled my folded up Oru Kayak out of my trunk. “Yes,” I replied smiling, “It’s a folding kayak.” He looked at the box I claimed would open up into a kayak with skepticism as I handed him my paddle… Finally he shrugged, clearly tired of trying to imagine how that box could possibly be a kayak, and said, “If you say so…” and walked off, heading towards the river.

The launch point at Abol Bridge Campground is one of the most beautiful spots that you can drive to… it’s a small sandy riverside beach with a gorgeous view of Mt. Katahdin towering behind it. As I unfolded my Kayak and explained to Gabe how it went together I couldn’t help but sneak occasional glances at Maine’s most majestic mountain… They were predicting thunderstorms that afternoon, so I was going to wait for a different day to climb Katahdin, but the mountains were the real reason I was there.

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Mt. Katahdin as viewed from the Penobscot River near Abol Bridge.

“Wow, that’s a good looking kayak,” Gabe finally admitted as I cinched up the last few straps of the kayak and installed the seat… “Thanks,” I said, dropping it into the water. “Do you want to wait until I get in and launch it, or do you want to head back to the campsite now?”

“I’ll wait,” he said grinning ear-to-ear, “that way I can race you!”

I laughed, “You’re on! Just be careful crossing the road! Make sure you stop and look both ways first!!” He nodded seriously, as I climbed into my kayak, and pushed into the water… “See you there!” he yelled, his feet already moving as bolted off. The race was on!

I carefully steered my kayak out of the still-water at the launch and into the current… I’d kayaked in water like this before, but not in my Oru Kayak… Could it handle it? Yes! The handling with great… The current was fast, the water was a bit turbulent, but it was well within my comfort zone… It felt a lot like kayaking in Boston harbor. I could just relax and enjoy the scenery.

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Gabe took this picture of me with Mt. Katahdin in the background right before I set off!

As I looked around, I spotted Gabe dashing through the woods trying to beat me to the campsite. He was going to win.

“Ha! I beat you!” exclaimed Gabe triumphantly and at least a little bit out of breath, as I pulled my kayak up along the riverbank at the campsite. “Can we help?” he asked as he led his brothers tripping down the steep bank to the kayak. “Sure,” I replied, assigning each boy a task… Though I could have done it alone, their help made the whole process a lot more fun. Before long we paraded into the campsite full of smiles.

A Decision Is Made…

“We’re going to head out and go swimming pretty soon, but we could give you a ride upriver so that you could just paddle back downstream to the campsite if you’re interested…” It was a generous offer and I was tempted, but I was also a bit hesitant. “Do you know what the river is like up above?” I asked. “I’m ok paddling on water like this,” I continued, pointing back up towards the bridge, but I wouldn’t feel comfortable on anything much rougher…”

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A loon hanging out in the middle of the Penobscot River!

“Well, there are some big rapids up at Cribworks. That’s where the whitewater rafters go to play, but we can drop you off down below that, where the canoes usually put it… it’s mostly still water from there… except for Horserace, which is a class II.”

That sounded pretty good, but before agreeing to it, I took a minute to think about my experience, skill level, and comfort level, “As long as none of it more than a class II, I should be fine,” I replied. “I have a map, can you show me where you’re thinking about dropping me off?”

“Sure, we can drop you off at Big Eddy, it’s just a couple of miles up and mostly Class II’s from there,” they suggested as I spread my map out on the picnic table. “Well, it’s over here, just off the edge of the map,” the dad said, his finger trailing onto the wood of the picnic table. “It’s about a 10 minute drive from here,” he continued, looking up at me, “and the road follows alongside the river the whole time.” I felt uncomfortable not being able to at least see the route on the map, but with the road running alongside the river I figured it would be ok… “Besides,” I thought, “I’m not proud, if I run into anything I’m uncomfortable with I can always get out of the river, fold up my kayak, and walk the rest of the way back!”

  • hamartia: “a fatal flaw leading to the downfall of a tragic hero or heroine.” –google dictionary

After some more discussion, I accepted their offer, we loaded the kayak into their van, they prayed for me, and we were off. As we drove along the river there were some sections that were obscured by trees, but as promised the road seemed to wind along the river and the river looked pretty calm, there were occasional riffles here and there, but it didn’t look too bad… I still had absolutely no idea what I was getting myself into…

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The Penobscot River, ME

Big Eddy’s Nuisance Bald Eagle

As I prepared to launch my kayak at Big Eddy, I was struck by how picturesque the river was… The white-capped rapids tapered off above me, two fly fishermen stood knee-deep in the water rhythmically casting their lines, and the Maine woods extended from the far bank of the river endlessly into the horizon… It was a great day to be outside!

“Woah! Is that a…” I asked, the fly fisherwoman beside me, my voice sticking in my throat as the giant bird dove at us… “BALD EAGLE?” I finished, able to speak again as it swooped away, sticking it’s bright white tail in my face. I continued staring at it as it perched in a nearby tree, it’s eyes seemingly trained on us.

“Yes,” the fisherwoman replied with exasperation. “The damn thing’s a nuisance bird,” she continued vehemently. “It hangs out here trying to steal our fish. Just watch!” she exclaimed pointing to the other guy’s fishing line… As soon as he started pulling the line out of the water the bald eagle dove towards it, “If he’d had a fish that eagle would have taken it right off of the line!”

“Wow!” It was incredible, I’ve seen a lot of bald eagles over the years, but I’d never had one fly this close to me, never-mind having it do so repeatedly… I’d also never heard of a nuisance bald eagle, but like a nuisance bear, it seems to have associated humans and that particular location with food… I thought about taking my camera out to get some pictures of it, but I was anxious to get moving… I didn’t want to be on the river that afternoon when the predicted thunderstorms cropped up.

As I paddled away from the bald eagle at Big Eddy, I had a smile on my face and a heart filled with happiness… The water was fast, but as I paddled down the river I was at peace… My eyes, my ears, my lungs, my body, and my thoughts were all full of the here and now, full of the river and the woods, full of the outdoors… I was exactly where I was supposed to be, and I rejoiced in it!

TO BE CONTINUED in “Real Kayakers Wear Skirts! Part 2: In Over My Head”

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Sunset over the Penobscot River, ME

Growing Tensions: Baxter State Park, The Appalachian Trail, and Scott Jurek

“We really don’t think that the top of Katahdin should smell like a bar…” – Jensen Bissell, Baxter State Park director.

Champagne wasn’t the only thing that erupted as Scott Jurek celebrated his new Appalachian Trail speed record at the summit of Mt. Katahdin last week… The ongoing tensions between the long-distance hiking community and the Baxter State Park Authority erupted too…

The relationship between long-distance hikers and Baxter State Park has been under increasing strain in the past decades as the number of thru-hikers has exploded from between 5 and 40 a decade (between the 1930’s and 1960’s) to almost a thousand a year (2013, 2014).

With these increasing numbers, Baxter State Park has seen an increase in ‘bad behavior’ amongst AT hikers, and hasn’t been shy about voicing their displeasure. In November of 2014 the director of Baxter State Park sent a letter to the director of the Appalachian Trail Conservancy, specifically citing the following grievances (amongst others):

As a ‘modern AT hiker’ I thought that Baxter State Park was being a little harsh, and I found myself getting really defensive as continued reading their list of grievances, “I’m not like that… Most of the AT hikers I know are not like that!” But I have to admit that some are… and we were all getting grouped together in the eyes of Baxter State Park… The folks at Baxter State Park have done a lot to accommodate AT hikers over the years, but they were getting sick and tired of dealing with unappreciative AT hikers that didn’t respect their rules and their mission… It was amidst these escalating tensions that Scott Jurek’s summit photos were released…

Scott Jurek celebrated on the top of Mount Katahdin after setting a new record for the fastest hike of the entire Appalachian Trail.

Photo by Bob Najar, iRunFar.com

Champagne exploding, people cheering, and Katahdin’s sign were all prominently displayed in Scott Jurek’s summit photos… I cringed and thought, “Uh-oh… This is why we can’t have nice things!” The most publicized hike in AT history, and a perfect (and I’m sure completely unintentional) disregard of Baxter State Park’s rules…

A couple of days later Baxter State Park posted a scathing note on Facebook (in a tone similar to the previous letter), informing everyone that they’d issued Jurek citations: “for the drinking of alcoholic beverages in public places (BSP Rule 7 and Maine State General Law), for littering (BSP Rule 4.5) and for hiking with an oversize group (BSP Rule 2.2).”

Photo by Chris Kraft. From Runner’s World…Scott Jurek signed in with an official group size of 12 people.

The first citation, about public drinking, has been an ongoing issue at the summit of Mt. Katahdin. Even though I don’t blame Jurek for wanting to celebrate his accomplishment with a bottle of Champagne at the summit, I certainly can’t blame Baxter State Park for issuing him a citation for such a blatant, and public, disregard for their rules! The second citation, however, seemed like a bit of a stretch… the ‘litter’ that Jurek is accused of leaving in the park is spilled champagne… “The littering occurred when champagne sprayed into the air hit the ground.” Covering the summit of Katahdin with a gooey, sticky mass of champagne, soda, and/or Gatorade would significantly detract from the wilderness experience, so I can sort of see where Baxter is coming from, but is it really litter?

  • litter: things that have been thrown away and that are lying on the ground in a public place (Merrian-Webster dictionary)

The final citation was for group size… and I have to admit that the group-size rule confuses me in these contexts… What defines an affiliated group?… Were there more than 12 people at the summit of Katahdin to celebrate Jurek’s accomplishment? Yes! Were they an affiliated group, or were they a mass of individuals independently inspired by Jurek’s achievement? If a group of 12 (or more) is intentionally climbing Mt. Katahdin together, that’s a pretty cut-and-dry group. On the other hand, if 12 or more people are inspired to climb Katahdin by the same thing does that make them a group?

  • affiliate: to closely connect (something or yourself) with or to something (such as a program or organization) as a member or partner (Merrian-Webster dictionary)

When I climbed Katahdin as part of my thru-hike, I climbed it with two fellow thru-hikers, but when we reached the summit 8 to 10 thru-hikers were already there… By the time I left the summit a couple of hours later, there were closer to 20 thru-hikers there… Are all of the thru-hikers that happen to show up on a given day considered a group? How would that be different from classifying all of the day-hikers that show up on a given day as a group?

Baxter State Park has been controlling access to the area for the last 25 years by limiting the parking spaces, and overnight campsites (which they did on the day of Jurek’s hike as well), but this strategy hasn’t been effective for limiting the number long-distance AT hikers that are walking into the park, sometimes more than 15 miles, to reach the summit of Katahdin.

In addition to the ongoing issues with AT hikers, Baxter State Park’s Facebook post raised new issues about corporate sponsorships, blasting Jurek for hosting a ‘corporate event’ on the summit of Katahdin… In a world where social media is capital, the lines between personal, professional, and corporate are starting to getting blurry…

Look at the clothes that you hike in, they’re probably covered with corporate logos and names… If you wear them, does that mean that you’re hosting a ‘corporate event’? For hikers/adventurer that are searching for ways to make ends meet as they pursue their dreams full-time, its not uncommon for them to seek corporate sponsors. For most, these sponsorships don’t come with a salary, or any $$s at all! Instead, they come with free gear (a pair of socks, shoes, a pack, or a tent), and a nifty new title as a brand ambassador. Although high-end athletes like Scott Jurek probably get better sponsorship deals from companies like Clif Bar and Brooks, the issues surrounding sponsorship, ‘corporate events’, and social media are bound to get more and more heated, and apply to more and more people, in the coming years!

Luis Escobar | Reflections Photography Studio

In their November letter (long before Jurek completed his thru-hike), Baxter State Park suggested that, “ Options to address these concerns would require a commitment to sustainable use of the AT and preserving wild experiences along the trail. Permit systems are in place on other popular long-distance trails in the U.S. Relocating key trail portions or the trail terminus would be another option.”

For those of us that have had the honor and privilege of including Mt. Katahdin in our Appalachian Trail thru-hikes, the idea of having to re-route the trail so that it terminates elsewhere is absolutely heartbreaking… but being able to terminate our AT thru-hikes at Katahdin is a privilege… If we lose that privilege, it won’t be because of Scott Jurek (even though he did manage to step right into the middle of this steaming mess with cameras rolling)… He may be a very visible example of some of the issues between the AT hikers and Baxter State park, but he didn’t start the problem, and he won’t be the one that the staff at Baxter State Park have to deal with tomorrow, or the next day, or the next day.

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~6% (9/153) of thru-hiker summit pictures I found by googling “thruhike Katahdin”  featured alcohol…

Large trail-related media events like Jurek’s accomplishment (Cheryl Strayed’s ‘Wild’, and Bill Bryson’s ‘A Walk in the Woods”) lead to surges in park use, which intensify ongoing issues between wilderness management and recreational use. It is up to us to help the parks and other landowners along the trail with their efforts to preserve the the trail and all of the wild places that we love… If you are planning on hiking on the AT in Baxter State Park, please familiarize yourself with the park’s rules, let the staff know that you appreciate their efforts, and treat the park (and it’s staff) with respect.

Related Articles:

Updated Timeline:

Baxter State Park Facts:

  • Staff: ~22 year-round staff, ~61 staff members on site during the summer. 1 staff member is dedicated exclusively to aiding thru-hikers, and is positioned near Abol Bridge for 15 weeks.
  • Governance: Baxter State Park Authority, a group of 3 public officials: the Commissioner of Maine Inland Fisheries and Wildlife, the Director of the Maine State Forest Service, and the Attorney General that works closely with Baxter State Park Advisory: a group of 15 dedicated citizens.
  • Wildlife: 75% of the park (156,874 acres) is a wildlife sanctuary, 25% (52,628 acres) of the park is open to hunting and trapping.
  • Foresty: 14% of the park (29,537 acres) is set up for scientific forest managements (read that logging)
  • Recreational Use: 215 miles of hiking trails, 8 roadside campgrounds, 2 backcountry campgrounds

Additional Baxter State Park Rules Especially Relevant for Thru-Hikers:

For the original Scott Jerek photos, deal with the obnoxious ads, and check out:

New England’s 4000 Footers

Mt. Katahdin, October 3, 2013

Mt. Katahdin, Maine: October 3, 2013

New England’s 4000-footers showcase some of the most rugged trails and most spectacular views in the Northeast! So far, I’ve climbed 10/14 Maine 4000 footers, 35/48 New Hampshire 4000 footers, and 5/5 Vermont 4000 footers. As I continue hiking the peaks of the Northeast, I will post the links and pictures from my 4000 footer adventures here! If you have any questions about which mountains, trails, and hikes are my favorites, or if you have suggestions about additional information you’d like me to share, please leave a comment below!

Maine’s 4000 Footers (10/14): I completed 10/14 Maine 4000 footers during my 2013 Appalachian Trail Thru-Hike. The remaining Maine 4000 footers I need to hike are: Hamlin Peak of Katahdin and North Brother, both in Baxter State Park, and Mount Abraham and Mount Reddington in the Carrabassett Valley.

  1. Katahdin, Baxter Peak – Baxter State Park, on AT (Completed: October 4, 2013: AT Day 149)
  2. Katahdin, Hamlin Peak – Baxter State Park
  3. Sugarloaf – Carrabassett Valley, 0.6 miles from AT (Completed: September 22, 2013: AT Day 137)
  4. Crocker Mountain – Carrabassett Valley, on AT (Completed: September 23, 2013: AT Day 138)
  5. Old Speck – Mahoosuc Range, 0.3 miles from AT (Completed: September 17, 2013: AT Day 132)
  6. North Brother – Baxter State Park
  7. Bigelow, West Peak – Bigelow Range, on AT (Completed: September 24, 2013: AT Day 139)
  8. Saddleback – Rangeley Range, on AT (Completed: September 20, 2013: AT Day 135)
  9. Bigelow, Avery Peak – Bigelow Range, on AT (Completed: September 24, 2013: AT Day 139)
  10. Mount Abraham – Carrabassett Valley (1.7 miles off of the AT)
  11. South Crocker Mountain – Carrabassett Valley, on AT (Completed: September 23, 2013: AT Day 138 )
  12. Saddleback Horn – Rangeley Range, on AT (Competed: September 20, 2013: AT Day 135)
  13. Mount Reddington – Carrabassett Valley
  14. Spaulding – Carrabassett Valley, 150ft from AT (Completed: September 22, 2013: AT Day 137)
Mount Washington, NH: February 2015

Mount Washington, NH: February 2015

New Hampshire (35/48): I hiked 20/48 New Hampshire 4000 footer during my AT 2013 thru-hike (some of them required short side-trips). 15/48 I completed with friends and family during day-hikes and shorter backpacking trips, but need to verify dates of those hikes (luckily mom has kept track, so I’ll have to check in with her). I guess that leaves 13 NH 4000 footers for me to explore for the first time!!

  1. Washington, on AT (Completed: September 10, 2013: AT Day 125)
  2. Adams, 0.3 miles from AT (Completed with mom, date=?)
  3. Jefferson, 0.3 miles from AT (Completed with mom, date=?)
  4. Monroe, 0.3 miles from AT (Completed: September 9, 2013, AT Day 124)
    • Gorgeous 360 degree views!
  5. Madison, on AT (Completed: September 11, 2013, AT Day 126)
    • Gorgeous 360 degree views!
  6. Lafayette, on AT (Completed: September 7, 2013, AT Day 122)
  7. Lincoln, on AT (Completed: September 7, 2013, AT Day 122)
  8. South Twin, on AT (Completed: September 8, 2013, AT Day 123)
  9. Carter Dome, on AT (Completed: September 14, 2013, AT Day 129)
  10. Moosilauke, on AT (Completed: September 5, 2013, AT Day 120)
    • Sunrise/Sunset: July 2015: Trip Report
  11. Eisenhower, 0.3 miles from AT (Completed: September 9, 2013, AT Day 124)
    • Gorgeous 360 degree views of Presidential Range
  12. North Twin, 1.3 miles from the AT (date? with Josh)
  13. Carrigain (date?: with Josh)
  14. Bond (date?: with family)
  15. Middle Carter, on AT (Completed: September 14, 2013, AT Day 129)
  16. West Bond (date?: with family)
  17. Garfield, on AT (Completed: September 7, 2013, AT Day 122)
  18. Liberty (date?: with Josh)
  19. South Carter, on AT (Completed: September 14, 2013, AT Day 129)
  20. Wildcat, A Peak, on AT (Completed: September 13, 2013, AT Day 128)
  21. Hancock (date?: with Josh)
  22. South Kinsman, on AT (Completed: September 6, 2013, AT Day 121)
  23. Field
  24. Osceola
  25. Flume (date? with Josh)
  26. South Hancock (date? with Josh)
  27. Pierce, < 0.1 from the AT,  (Completed: September 9, 2013, AT Day 124 )
  28. North Kinsman, on AT (Completed: September 6, 2013, AT Day 121)
  29. Willey
  30. Bondcliff (date?: with family)
  31. Zealand (date?: with mom)
  32. North Tripyramid (date?: with Josh)
  33. Cabot
  34. East Osceola
  35. Middle Tripyramid
  36. Cannon
  37. Hale
  38. Jackson, on AT (Completed: September 9, 2013, AT Day 124)
  39. Tom
  40. Wildcat, D Peak, on AT (Completed: September 13, 2013, AT Day 128)
  41. Moriah (date: with Josh)
  42. Passaconaway
  43. Owl’s Head (date?: with mom)
    • No views, isolated wooded summit
  44. Galehead (date?: with mom)
  45. Whiteface
  46. Waumbek
  47. Isolation (date?: with Josh)
  48. Tecumseh
Sunset at Lakes of the clouds, NH

Sunset at Lakes of the clouds, NH

Vermont (5/5): I hiked 1/5 Vermont 4000 footers during my 2013 AT thru-hike, however, I hiked all 5/5 during my 1998 end-to-end hike of the Long Trail.

  1. Mount Mansfield, on Long Trail (Completed: August 1998)
  2. Killington Peak, on AT, on Long trail (Completed: August 1998, and August 2013)
  3. Camel’s Hump, on Long Trail (Completed: August 1998)
  4. Mount Ellen, on Long Trail (Completed: August 1998)
  5. Mount Abraham, on Long Trail (Completed: August 1998)

Better than sex? Boston Fireworks Kayaking Adventure

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“Boo-ooo-ooo-oom!” The first rocket launched, the sound so intense that I didn’t just hear it as it bounced off of the river and hit me, I felt it! “Hoo-ah!” I exclaimed as my startle reflex took over: my stomach tightened, my eyes widened, my back arched, my heart slowed (bradycardia), and my body flooded with adrenaline and endorphins… Time stood still as my attention was pulled fully into the here and now… all thoughts, emotions, and expectations emptied from my mind to make room for my heightened senses…

DSC07038 “Cr-ack!” the sky exploded and my entire visual field was suddenly filled with the most beautiful cascade of red light that I have ever seen… Sitting there, in my kayak on the water with the fireworks barges in front of me, the red peony burst above me, and its reflections in the water all around me… It was so intensely beautiful that it overwhelmed my senses and brought tears to my eyes…

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I’ve watched Boston’s 4th of July fireworks before (from the Mass. Ave bridge-back when that was allowed, from the MIT sailing pavilion, and from multiple locations along the banks of the Charles), but I’d never experienced fireworks like this! AND the show was just getting started!!!

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“Thu-ump!” another firework launched. As the sound hit me, I was reminded me of the feeling I used to get at rock concerts… dancing in front of the speakers when the music was too loud and the bass was cranked up as high as it could go… the raw power of the sound resonating in my body, moving me, as I breathed the music…

  • 90 dBA: Soud intensity at which the vestibular system begins increasing hedonic response (sense of pleasure) in response to low-frequency sounds (<500 Hz).

My heart sped up with excitement and expectation because I knew what was coming next…

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“Crack! Crack! Crack!” Three stars, one red, one white, and one blue, exploded. “Wow, is there anything better than this?” I wondered blissfully, “Well… maybe sex…” The fireworks continued with a chrysanthemum, followed by some willows… I breathlessly awaited each new boom, and burst as the fireworks danced and crackled across the sky… It was so amazing… so beautiful… so intense… so perfect… so lovely… so magical… DSC07043 “This! This IS better than sex!”” I thought, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of both the auditory and visual stimuli… I suddenly I understood why people associated orgasms with fireworks; each explosion was full of ecstasy, joy, and happiness… Wow! As the show continued the fireworks just got more and more intense and amazing… showering the sky with cascading patterns of red, purple, green, and blue…

  • 5 to 2.5 seconds: time between firework explosions during main show
  • 500 ms: time between firework explosions during finale (last 3 minutes)
  • 600-800 ms: time between muscle contractions during male and female orgasm.

DSC07040 I was euphoric… I loved my colorfully lit up kayak… I loved the gentle waves that were rocking my kayak, I loved that there were 10s of 1000s of other people there, watching it with me… I loved that it still felt like the whole show was being put on just for me… I loved the new friends that were watching the fireworks with me… I loved Boston… I loved it all… DSC07026 I continued glowing with happiness even after the fireworks ended… Sure, the air was filled with smoke, the barges had caught fire, I had to pee, and I to kayak 4 more miles to get home, but I knew that the spectacular experience of watching the fireworks from my kayak would remain with me, as one of my happy thoughts, for the rest of my life… DSC07065 DSC07072 Additional Links & References:

Cell phone pictures:

“Boston Pops Fireworks Spectacular” Kayaking Adventure: Part 2- The Journey Downtown

The view from my kayak as we approached the esplanade on our way to watch the fireworks!

The pouring rain made me question my sanity as I headed over to the Charles River Canoe & Kayak kiosk in Allston/Brighton to meet up with some new friends for our 4th of July kayaking adventure. It was 5 pm, and I was surprised by the complete and utter lack of traffic on Rt. 2, Rt. 16, and Soldiers Field Road… I made it to the parking area in 15 minutes (a commute that takes over an hour during rush hour), and was even more excited to discover that the parking lot was half empty.

Preview of my glowing kayak!

I set up my Oru Kayak and filled it with the 10 remote-controlled wireless lights I’d purchased (and waterproofed) for the occasion while my friends picked up the tandem kayak they’d reserved…We waited a while for the rain to stop, then used the restroom one last time before launching our kayaks at 6 pm.

  • Restrooms: There are no publicly available restrooms between the Mass. Ave. and Longfellow Bridge on July 4th. Please leave a comment below if you know of any restrooms along the Charles that are publicly available for boaters between 7 pm and 1 am on July 4th.

Charles River Canoe & Kayak, Allston/Brighton location.

There was a steady stream of kayakers, canoeists, motorboats, and small yachts making their way down the Charles river and headed towards the Massachusetts Avenue Bridge, but the river didn’t feel crowded and the paddling was easy… except when the motorboats and yachts zoomed by… Some of the smaller motorboats, didn’t seem particularly mindful of the 6 mph speed limit, or the etiquette suggesting they pass through the central arches of the bridges (we didn’t see any police enforcement until we were within 300 meters of the Mass Ave. bridge)…

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In the narrower sections of the Charles River (between the Eliot bridge and the River St. bridge) this meant that they created impressively large waves in their wake, which were especially nerve-wracking under the bridges where the wakes generated standing waves and weird interference patterns.

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If the motorboats were behaving badly before the fireworks, and presumably before they began drinking, what was the return trip going to be like?

Luckily, by the time we got to the BU Bridge, the river widened and the wakes of the motorboats stopped being an issue. Even more amazingly, the sun came out and we were rewarded with amazing views of the of the Boston city skyline (including the golden dome of the statehouse) in the early evening light.

Boston skyline including the gold dome of the capital building.

At around 7 pm, we reached the west side of Massachusetts Ave (the blue anchorage zone), where I guessed that close to 50 small boats and yachts were already anchored and another couple dozen kayaks/canoes were milling about.

  • Zones: Blue anchorage zone (vessels less than 12 ft in height, west of Mass Ave), safety zone (area east of Mass ave. bridge, and within 1000 ft of the barges), red anchorage zone (zone east of safety zone where larger vessels are permitted)

State police marine unit enforcing life jacket rules.

“Gentlemen, you must have life preservers to be out here,” boomed the state police patrolman from the first of many state police marine units we’d see. We were passing by a group of three shirtless guys in a green inflatable raft that looked more like a beach-ball than a boat as we approached the Mass Ave bridge. “Sorry officer, we don’t want any trouble,” one of the guys responded quickly and politely… “You need to vacate the area, you can’t be our here without life jackets,” the trooper continued sternly as we passed by…

Kayakers in front of a flotilla of motor boats.

After passing the state troopers, we paused for a minute to decide whether we’d stay on the west-side of the Mass Ave bridge in the blue anchorage zone, or pass through the designated channels by the barges to the red anchorage zone on the east side with the big boats… The folks at the rental agency had strongly recommended staying on the West side of the bridge, assuring everyone that they views there were just as good, but we weren’t convinced…

Hanging out in the Red Anchorage Zone

A few things compelled us onwards: the opportunity to be closer to the Pops concert, the fact that the winds were blowing out of the northeast (if the wind directions stayed the same the fireworks fallout would be to the west), and the idea of getting to watch the fireworks without the Mass Ave bridge obstructing our view of the barges.

As we passed under the Mass. Ave. bridge it seemed like we were the only boats moving except for the patrolling state troopers… “Uh oh, did we read the rules correctly? Are we allowed to pass through here?” We wondered as we paddled towards the oncoming state troopers…

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The round, orange buoys floating at intervals along the shore clearly indicated the restricted shore areas, but the markers indicating the safety zone around the barges wasn’t obvious to me…

  • Restricted areas: Boats are not allowed within 100 ft of the shore between the Mass. Ave. Bridge and the Longfellow Bridge. Boats are not allowed within 1000 feet of the barges.

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“Are they going to stop us? Did we miss something?” It was an unsettling feeling, paddling by the state police boats and hoping that we were in compliance with all of the rules, but we passed the patrol without incident and continued paralleling the crowds on the esplanade until we reached the flotillas of yachts in the red anchorage area.

Kayakers in front of esplanade with red boundary buoys in background

Boats lined up in front of Boston skyline waiting for the fireworks (Red anchorage zone)

It wasn’t until we started making our way through the big boats towards the middle of the river that the tall white cylindrical buoys marking the boundaries of the safety area became apparent.

4th of July paddle-boarder in front of boundary buoy for the safety zone.

“Kayakers, you cannot enter the shore area,” boomed a voice on a megaphone behind us… We looked up and saw the state police approaching a group of kayakers that were attempting to land on the esplanade. “Kayakers! Vacate the shore area!” The police presence was unmistakable and absolutely everywhere.

Paddlers in front of the esplanade.

At 7:30 pm, we picked a spot at the edge of the safety zone near the mid-line of the river to anchor our kayaks and have our picnic dinner. I’d never anchored a kayak before, so it took me a couple of tries to figure out how to compensate for the drift, drag, wind, and currents to make sure we stayed on the ‘safe’ side of the boundary buoy. Once I figured it out, I was confident that we had the best seats in the house!

  • Anchoring tips: Make sure each boats has an anchor… wind and wakes cause a fair amount of drift if you are in a single kayak with a single anchor (we struggled with that all night)… Check out these general anchoring tips, as well as these kayak specific anchoring techniques: kayak anchoring tips, or advanced kayak anchoring setups.
  • Note: The Charles River is between 10 and 50 feet deep around the Mass. Ave. Bridge… make sure that your anchor rope is long enough.

Watching the sunset on the 4th from the middle of the Charles River

As we relaxed and ate our picnic dinner were marveled at our good fortune and our amazing spot… the pouring rain was long gone, the skies were clear, and we were in the perfect location to watch the sunset behind the MIT dome as we waited for the show to begin… the evening was already off to a good start, and there was still 3 hrs to go before the fireworks started!

Kayakers watching the sunset over the MIT dome

Check out my previous post: “Boston Pops Fireworks Spectacular” Kayaking Adventure: Part 1-Overview and Regulations

Coming soon: “Boston Pops Fireworks Spectacular” Kayaking Adventure: Part 3-The Pops, the fireworks, and returning home!

Paddling off into the sunset on July 4th before the Fireworks.

Have you watched the Boston Fireworks from a canoe, kayak, or boat? If so, do you have any tips, tricks, or advice? Leave a comment below! As always, if you have any questions about my adventures, leave a comment below :)

“Boston Pops Fireworks Spectacular” Kayaking Adventure: Part 1-Overview & Regulations

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Do you have a bucket list? If so, you should add watching the Boston Fireworks Spectacular from a kayak in the middle of the Charles River to it! It was one of the most amazing experiences that I’ve ever had… It was breathtakingly, orgasmically, beautiful and the sheer immensity and joy of it brought me to tears in a way that very few experiences have…

  • Starting location: 1071 Soldier’s Field Road in Boston (Allston/Brighton), MA
  • Round-trip paddling distance:  ~9 miles (4.5 miles each way)
  • Trip duration: 6 hrs 30 minutes, total paddle time: ~3hrs
    • 6 pm – launched kayak
    • 7:30 pm – arrived at viewing location
    • 8:30 pm – sunset over MIT and Pops concert began
    • 10 pm – Pops concert ended
    • 10:30 pm – Fireworks began
    • 11:00 pm – Fireworks ended
    • 12:30 am – returned to parking lot

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  • Viewing location:  East of the Massachusetts Avenue Bridge (next to the esplanade), Boston, MA
  • Parking: 2 small lots near Charles River Canoe & Kayak, 1 large lot 1/4 further down (no fee). I arrived at 5pm and there were still plenty of spots available. Portable restrooms available near the kayak rental kiosk.
  • Required Equipment: kayak or canoe, paddle, life jacket, waterproof headlamp/flashlight with white light, emergency whistle (I also brought: paddle leash, rain coat, dry sack, camera, cell phone, water, snacks, additional lighting, compass, anchor with 150 ft cord, and a pee jug).
  • Trip cost: $0.00, Value: PRICELESS! (Kayak & canoe rentals are available from Charles River Canoe & Kayak: $89/canoe, $59 single kayak, $99 tandem kayak etc.)

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If you are interested in watching the July 4th fireworks from a kayak or canoe, please be familiar with the special boating restrictions for the area, as well as the general rules for paddling on mulit-use waterways at night. I’ve tried to summarize all of the pertinent rules below, but please leave a comment if there is something that I’ve missed or that you think should be included! (Part 2 of this series will be my trip report, sharing stories and pictures from my 2015 Boston Fireworks Spectacular kayaking adventure.

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July 4th Boating Restrictions between Longfellow Bridge and Mass. Ave. Bridge (Massachusetts State Police and Department of Conservation and Recreation, 2015):

  • No restrooms and/or trash receptacles will be available to individuals on the water.
  • Boats must stay 100 feet from shore
    • All public docks will be closed. No access of any kind will be allowed at these docks.
    • No dinghies, PWC, kayaks, canoes, or any other small vessel will be allowed to deploy from anchored vessels or permitted access to shore. Violation of this security zone will result in arrest.
  • Boats must stay 1,000 feet from barges.
  • All vessels must anchor outside the Safety Zone, which is marked by buoys and Public Safety.
  • Vessels UNDER 13 feet (vertical height) can anchor in the BLUE ZONE (Mass Ave. side of barge), no vessels over 13 feet be anchored in this area.
  • Vessels OVER 13 feet tall are allowed to anchor in the RED ZONE (Longfellow side of barges), vessels under 13 feet are not precluded from this area.
  • At 8:15 pm on July 4, the designated channels that pass beside the barges on both the Boston and Cambridge sides of the river. The channel will not reopen until after the fireworks.
  • From 7:45 pm on July 4th until 2 am, the New Charles River Dam will close to upriver vessel traffic
  • The Massachusetts State Police will monitor Channel 16, and enforce all restrictions.

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US Navigational Rules of the Road (US Coast Guard regulations unless otherwise cited):

  • Required Equipment:
    • Life Jackets: All persons on board a canoe or kayak must have a readily accessible USCG–approved Type I, II, or III PFD at all times. Note: Some states have legislation that requires life-jackets to be worn at all times during cold weather months (MA state law-9/15 – 5/15, NY state law-11/1 – 5/1, CT state law- 10/1 – 5/31 (please leave a comment if you know of other states with similar regulations).
    • Whistle: A kayak must carry a whistle capable of producing sound signals audible at 1/2 mile under calm conditions.
      • A “short blast” means a sound signal lasting about one second.
      • A “prolonged blast” means a sound signal lasting about four to six seconds.
      • The “danger signal” means at least five short and rapid blasts.
      • When navigating in or near an area of restricted visibility, kayaks should sound a fog signal of one prolonged blast on their whistle at least every two minutes.
    • Lights: lights must be shown from sunset to sunrise and when visibility is restricted.
      • Flashlight: Kayaks must, at a minimum, carry a white flashlight which can be shown toward an approaching vessel in sufficient time to prevent collision.
        • Alternatively, kayakers can display both a constant white sternlight and a constant red/green sidelights.
        • Never use any strobe light to indicate your position while underway.
      • Distress Signals (optional on inland waters): Vessels, specifically kayaks, canoes, and SUPs, operating between sunset and sunrise on coastal waters must carry either 3- Flares (3 Night, 3 day/night, or a combination of both) or 1-Electronic Distress Light for Boats (For example: ACR “C” Strobe, a compact flashing white light to be used only in emergencies)

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  • Boating Traffic Rules
    • KEEP RIGHT. Any vessel proceeding along a narrow channel or fairway shall keep as far right as is safe and practicable.
      • For kayaks, who can travel in very shallow water, this usually means outside the narrow channel as long as this option is not dangerous.
    • Get out of the way! A kayak shall not impede the passage of a vessel which can safely navigate only within a narrow channel or fairway, or which is constrained by her draft in any other way. Take early action to get out of the way.
    • Passing. When vessels are meeting on opposing or nearly opposing courses, each shall alter course to the right so as to pass on the other’s left (port) side
      • When being overtaken from behind, a kayaker should, if possible, maintain course and speed. It is the responsibility of the overtaking vessel to keep out of the way of the vessel being overtaken.
        • one short blast = “I am altering my course to the right and intend to leave you on my left side.”
        • two short blasts = “I am altering my course to the left and intend to leave you on my right side.”
      • Kayakers should never travel along or between designated traffic separation lanes, usually encountered in major harbors and clearly indicated on the chart
      • If you are paddling in a narrow channel and cannot see a possible approaching vessel due to a bend or obstruction, sound one prolonged blast. An approaching vessel should respond with a similar prolonged blast.
    • NOTE: The coast guard regulations (and Massachusetts regulations) don’t give anyone the right of way. The local confusion regarding this point is probably due to New Hampshire’s regulations (270-D:2 General Rules for Vessels Operating on Water), which states that “Canoes, kayaks, rowboats, sailboats, and swimmers shall be given the right-of-way.”

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  • General Charles River MotorBoat Rules
    • 6 mph speed limit above the BU Bridge
    • 10 mph speed limit between BU Bridge and Longfellow Bridge
    • The basic navigation rule for powerboats is to keep to the center of the river except for going under the
      BU Bridge.
      • Motorboats: use the center arches of all the other bridges and either arch, preferably the right hand arch
        in whichever direction you are traveling, at the Arsenal St. Bridge.
      • River Depth at Mass Ave Bridge is 10-40 ft, 13.4 feet headroom on the BU bridge.

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Logjams Not Traffic Jams: My Wild Kayak Commute (Part 2: Alewife Brook)

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My kayak commute had started well. I’d carried my folded-up kayak across the street and a block to the river, then timed myself with my phone as I set it up, 10 minutes 26 seconds… Not bad since it was just second time I’d put it together! I paddled up the Mystic River and into Alewife brook in a world of green trees, herons, and birdsong… It was easy to forget the ‘urban’ part of this urban wilderness even though the highway was never more than 500 feet away from me… The trees blocked the sight of it, and the birds blocked the sound of it.

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So when I ran into a logjam underneath the Boston Ave bridge it didn’t just jar my boat, it also jarred my mind out of the world of backcountry daydreams and back into my urban reality… The obstacle in front of me wreaked of civilization; a three-foot wide swath of trash: beach balls, soda cans, beer bottles, empty bags of Cheetos, Dunkin’ Donuts styrofoam cups, and other things that I couldn’t discern in the darkness under the bridge. Something was blocking the way and causing all of the urban detritus to collect here… yuck!

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I picked a spot that looked passable and went for it, but instead of making forward progress, my kayak lurched and wobbled in an unsettling way… My movements were too quick, too erratic. “OMG, I really don’t want to end up swimming in this water!” I thought frantically.

“Don’t Panic!” I scolded myself… I knew exactly where panic would lead me. It would lead me to the place I didn’t want to be… into the drink, where I would be immersed in the cold, dark, trash-filled water. Though up until now, the surface the water had seemed clean enough, the truth was that the water beneath me was city drainage water and definitely not clean… I didn’t have any idea what might have settled into its depths, and I really, really, really did not want to find out by accidentally swimming in it.

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I took a deep breath, and stilled my body and my kayak. I had my towel with me (in my dry bag with my work clothes), and as long as I followed Douglas Adams’s advice and didn’t panic, everything was under control… I maneuvered my kayak so that I was parallel to my mystery snag instead of perpendicular to it, and investigated the obstacle before me. It was passable… there was a log submerged near the surface, but over by the bridge’s pilings to the right, there was about 2 ft of clearance between it and the surface of the water… plenty of room for me and my kayak to pass over it! There was just one problem… the passable section was so close to the piling that I wouldn’t be able to paddle…

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Suddenly I longed for a simple pole to use to propel myself through narrow waterway… The romantic notion of Venetian gondoliers immediately came to mind with their narrow profiles and single oars, but I immediately revised it to the image that I actually wanted, that of a punt and a punt pole… If I had a punt pole I could propel myself forward by pushing the pole off of the bottom of the river… Instead, I was going to have to put my hands into that dirty water to try to propel myself forward!

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For some reason paddling through the water hadn’t bothered me at all, but reaching my hand down into it? That was a completely different story! I had to laugh at myself… My hands were already covered in Alewife Brook water, intentionally submerging my hands in it shouldn’t be a problem… and yet…

“There’s nothing to do, but do it!” I grumbled and reached in… within moments I was free of the first logjam and headed upstream again. This section of the brook wasn’t bucolic at all… Cement walls rose up on both sides of me, creating a cave-like feeling… the only thing breaking the monotony of cement were that occasional rusted iron ladders that allowed escape from the canal… To the right, the walls of the canal were lower… Affording a clear view of the cemetery…

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It was eerily silent as I paddled through, carefully avoiding occasional downed trees and rusting motorcycle engines… I was paying so much attention to the upcoming obstacles that somehow I didn’t see the…

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“SNAPPPP!!!!!!!” The sound was terrifyingly loud as it echoed between the water and cement overhang. It scared the living sh** out of me! Startled (ok, maybe slightly terrified), I turned my head towards the sound… It was a giant snapping turtle… In the water… under my kayak… I was already gliding over it… and it was biiiiiig…

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“Don’t Panic!” I reminded myself… The turtle was at least 3 feet in diameter… So big… so old… and so well camouflaged with the rocks just below the surface… Would it snap my kayak paddle in half? I lifted my paddle out of the water just in case, and tried to keep my calm… The snapping turtle was so close… This would be an even worse time to accidentally dump the kayak and go for a swim… Here, in this canal, the snapping turtle was obviously the boss… I was the intruder… and I quite happily left it where it was and got the heck out of there!

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The cement channel continued for ¼ mile with the cement overhang on one side and the cemetery on the other before it finally released me back into the trees… No more overhangs, graves, no more rusty ladders… just trees and brush and birdsong again… I was back in my happy place…

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Kayaking up alewife brook was definitely an adventure. It reminded me of one of my favorite childhood adventures/games, which I called “Combat Canoeing”… As a kid I wasn’t allowed to canoe on the river, but I was allowed to explore as far up the smaller waterways as I wanted… the waterways had been narrow, with overhanging braches tried to scratch us, underwater logjams that tried to dump us, and we were never sure if the waterways would passable, but we kept going because it was an adventure and that was part of the excitement (there was also a 2-canoe variant where my brothers, our friends, and I would throw river weeds and concord grapes at each other in epic canoe battles).

One of my favorite obstacles in “combat canoeing” as a kid was the “limbo tree”, a downed tree that spanned the width of the waterway, with just enough clearance for the canoe to pass under it… As I approached Alewife I was excited to encounter a limbo tree here as well… I took my feet off of the footrest in the kayak, scooted into the kayak as low as I could go, and launched myself under the tree… My face, with a huge smile on it, passed under the tree with about an inch of clearance… it would be really tight if the water levels went up any higher!

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In total, I crossed under 5 bridges, encountered 4 logjams (I had to portage over one of them), saw 1 heron, 1 snapping turtle, 3 families of ducks, 1 raccoon, and 1 deer as I paddled up Alewife Brook. After crossing under one final bridge, that felt more like a long, dark tunnel, I made it to the access road for the Alewife train station: my final destination. I pulled my kayak up to the granite steps, got out of it, and hauled it up onto the bank beside the bike path and the road.

I quickly folded the kayak back up while watching the streams of commuters heading for Alewife station either by car, by bike, or on foot… There were just so many of them! I’d been so busy having my kayak adventures that I’d once again forgotten that I was in the middle of the hustle-and-bustle of the city during rush hour!

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Within moments I entered the stream of commuters headed for the station, my kayak folded up and over my shoulder… I was about a block away from my office building… Once I got to my office I headed straight for the showers, kayak in tow. I showered, rinsed the boat off, pulled my work clothes out of their dry bag, and got ready to go… All-in-all it took about an hour door-to-door for my first morning’s kayak commute.

I’m was glowing with happiness, smiles and energy bubbling out of me as I tucked my kayak into my cubicle and sat down to work… This kayak commute was definitely something that I could get used to… And I was guaranteed to get to repeat it all over again to get home at the end of the day :)

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What price sanity? What price happiness? Discovering a way to start my day full of happiness and excitement instead of frustration and defeat was absolutely priceless! I would take logjams over traffic jams any day, everyday (except in thunderstorms)… As long as I had my trusty towel by my side!

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PS: Right now I cannot recommend the kayak trip up Alewife Brook to other people… Though I enjoy it, it requires experience with navigating narrow waterways, constant monitoring of both the water depth and quality, familiarity with the submerged obstacles, a willingness to get wet and portage as necessary, and immediate access to showers after any/all boating activities.

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Although Alewife is usually considered safe for boating, it rarely meets Massachusetts water quality standard for swimming, and for at least 48 hours following heavy rains neither Alewife Brook nor the Mystic River are safe for boating. This is largely because of combined sewer outflows (CSOs), which empty runoff and raw sewage directly into Alewife brook after heavy rains. “There are eight permitted CSOs on the Alewife Brook: one owned by the MWRA, one owned by the City of Somerville, and six owned by the City of Cambridge.”

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In an area full of people that pride themselves on their environmental awareness and activism, it is truly heartbreaking to see how easily our waterways can be left behind… I prefer to focus on the positives; the beauty, the wildlife, and the amazing steps we’ve taken to clean our waterways, but we still have a long way to go.

Click here for more information about the Mystic River’s water quality and boating safety