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.
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…
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?
“I hate this commute,” was all I could think as I sat in a river of stopped cars on my way home from work last week. “Why would anybody CHOOSE to do this?” I whined as the traffic jutted ahead 2 feet before stopping again. “I want to be hiking!” I screamed from inside my prison. I hated being confined to my metal box, but I’d sprained my ankle halfway up Old Speck on the Appalachian Trail in Southern Maine, and not just a little sprain, a severe sprain.
2012 Master’s Project by Victoria Shelus
When a fellow 2013 thru-hiker was hospitalized with severe Lyme meningitis (inflammation of the membranes surrounding the brain) earlier this month, I decided to do some research and try to help raise awareness about Lyme.