We went paddling yesterday. Just for kicks, we wanted to see if there would be any differences in our experience:
Brooke:
After a great trip to the nicest gas station restroom ever in
Catawaba, Wisconsin we met up with Rick and Andrea.
Our game plan was to drive up to the south fork of the
Flambeau River, paddle to the take out and then go our separate ways after enjoying a beer together at some local hole-in-the-wall.
I would guess this is the routine for any river trip with Rick and Jay.
My last trip down this stretch of river marked my first time ever paddling, not just whitewater, but any water. Since then I have paddled an average of once every year, making my grand total of paddling days right around 4. I was excited to see what the river would look like with a lot more water “pumping” through it.
While Jay and Rick were dropping off the take out vehicle Andrea and I were able to catch up and put on about 16 layers of clothing. I had on a wetsuit, wool socks, neoprene booties, 2 long underwear tops, a fleece top, a waterproof jacket, a wool hat and windproof gloves. After the “7 minute” drive turned into a 30+ minute drop off we started to wonder what happened to the boys and decided that they either (a) got stuck in the mud, or (b) were drinking the beer Rick had bought for after we were finished paddling. It had started to rain when they finally showed up and when we saw that they were covered in mud we knew that the answer was (a).
As usual, Jay and I switch into teacher and student mode once we hop into the canoe. Since I am still a beginner I appreciate any advice he has to give me, which is a lot. I am a fairly confident person but two miles in fast water with relatively no experience paddling throws any confidence I had right out the window and probably makes paddling with me frustrating. Some stand-out moments of the day include:
-Falling out of the canoe in slow motion (see below).
-Jay yelling directions at me as we go through the rapids. Usually there is so much urgency in his voice that I panic and don’t do what he wants me to and then he yells other things.
-Sideways surfing in our 17-foot canoe after doing a 360 in the whitewater while I scream “What are you doing? What are WE DOING?!” and panic convinced I am going to end up in the river for the second time while Jay just laughs.
-Watching Rick and Andrea sideswipe a house sized boulder and not tip over and knowing we had to go through that part of the river next.
-The rain stopping and the sun coming out.
-Relearning mid-trip that I when I do a cross-bow draw I actually have to move the paddle after I stick it in the water…to which Jay commented, “No wonder they sucked so much.”
Even though most paddlers would consider what we did an easy trip, I felt a real sense of accomplishment once we were finished. And even though Rick kept joking about doing it again, I kind of wanted to because I know I could do it more confidently the next time. It was also so much fun to be outside on March 31st in Wisconsin and be in water instead of snow. Makes me eager for summertime.
I was the only person to get wet on our little trip. Maybe it is because I have the least experience, or maybe it is because I thought Jay was going to help me out. We were portaging around some major waterfalls and I thought that it would be fun if Jay and I got into the canoe while it was still on the rocks and slid into the water. So I got in and Jay was sliding the canoe into the water without getting in and it tipped sideways and I slowly tumbled out of the boat into about 4 feet of cold water. He asked me why I didn’t brace myself and I said that I thought he was going to right the boat so that I didn’t tip out. Miscommunication, not the first and won’t be the last. At least I was able to put all of those layers to good use.
Our hole-in-the-wall was a BBQ joint in Hawkins. An hour or two of sitting near the saguaro wall paper and howling wolf decorations made me feel more like I was in New Mexico than Wisco. Our host was a tall gentleman in (no joke) a ten gallon hat and a button up shirt with flames all over it. We enjoyed some cold beers out of 12-ounce glass boots (which Jay and Rick liked so much they bought them) and pulled pork sandwiches. If you are ever in Hawkins make sure you stop at the BBQ joint if you can find it because it is good.
Jay:
THE PLAN: We made plans for a paddling day on the Flambeau a few weeks ago when it was 70 degrees and sunny. Friday Rick called to make sure that we were still game. With a forecast that called for a high of 48 and eighty percent chance of rain and/or thunderstorms I confirmed our desire to paddle. Brooke didn’t want to spend all night packing on her birthday so I tried my best to get everything ready Thursday evening and Friday afternoon. I think I was successful.
Our plan was to meet in the town of Phillips, WI. This didn’t make a ton of sense to Brooke or me but it was Rick that determined the rendezvous point. He was able to get a better view of the map and when we talked Saturday morning it was switched to the town of Hawkins. Cloudy skies, slight drizzle, full mug of coffee and a canoe bigger than our car; we were on our way.
THE SHUTTLE: Wetsuits, fleeces, long undies, neoprene booties, wool hats and gloves were all utilized in our attempt to stay warm. Andrea and Brooke guarded our stuff as Rick and I ran shuttle. Rick yelled, “We’ll be back in 7 minutes” and I tried to get in “30 minutes” as a joke, but I don’t think anyone heard me. The dirt road to the take-out was experiencing its first thaw of the season and no one had driven on it since. What that meant for us was that it was like driving in Mush or with a flat tire for a couple miles. Rick had a truck and I just kept my fingers crossed and tried to keep moving. Sure enough, at the put-in Rick’s truck got stuck and we spent about 15 minutes trying to get it out of the mud. This consisted of shoving sticks, rocks, his floor mat, logs and anything else we could find under, in front and behind the wheels. Rick and I took turns pushing, pulling, bouncing on the tailgate to try to engage the tire, and getting mud flung at our faces. I don’t know what did it, but eventually it moved.
THE RIVER: One of the easiest things to forget when paddling with Brooke is that this was her fourth day of paddling whitewater in a canoe. She doesn’t have that much flat water experience either. None of this gets in Brooke’s way. She always wants to excel.
In some of the bigger rapids, she described, “all I could hear was you yell something and I would get scared.” I was yelling, “Draw. Draw. Draw. Nevermind,” as I had maneuvered us around the rock that I was trying to get her to help miss. We spent about 20 minutes at a little falls that I tried to convince Rick to run with me. It was pretty impressive water and Rick and I talked for quite a while about how we would run it if we had our solo boats. This is a lot easier to do when our boats were hours away.
We carried over the island that we were scouting from and Brooke and I had the brilliant idea to try to slide down the rock into the river. This consisted of Brooke getting into the bow and me slowly sliding the boat into the water. As soon as Brooke hit the water the boat started tipping and she just kept tipping with it and dumped into the water. While I was looking after Brooke I let go of the boat and it started floating away. Luckily I was able to jump after it and we were back on our way. I realized after that Brooke didn’t know how to brace. Next time we try something dumb like that she’ll be able to keep herself upright.
After this, we had our biggest rapid of the day. We watched Rick and Andrea nearly get crushed against the rock wall that all of the current was slamming against. They made it out unscathed but probably a little wet. Seeing two people that according to Brooke were far more experienced than her almost dump put a giant hole in her confidence. We spent quite a bit of time getting prepped, but once we went for it, we made it through it no problem.
Towards the end of the run I spied a beautiful wave to surf the canoe on. We spun around, matched the speed of the current and dropped into the wave from upstream. This little wave was a lot stickier than I had expected and it didn’t want to let go of us. In trying to get out of it, we nearly dumped twice. I was doing my best to keep us upright and Brooke was turned around yelling, “what are we doing.” She claims that she was mad at me at that point, but I was able to point out that we did a flat spin in a Tripper. Even though she didn’t get nearly as excited about the whole experience, I think she was able to forgive me.
POST GAME: We met at a little restaurant/bar. I knew that we were in for a treat from the BBQ menu, but was blown away when we ordered two MGDs and were served in little 12 oz glass boots. After delicious pulled pork and beef brisket sandwiches, Rich and I purchased our own boot glasses. The owner told me that the glass would hold 12.5 oz, but after trying it out at home I think you would be hard pressed to fit more than 12. Brooke suggested that if you had a dark beer, the density might allow more to fit in, but I remain skeptical. 12 works, add that more .5 and it spills.
THE CHALLENGE: Find this incredible restaurant and purchase a mug to join our club.
A few weekends ago we had a BBQ at our place, people were sporting shorts and sandals and the snow was fading into the deep shadows of the forest. I thought that my skiing days were over, but I may have jumped the gun.
