Monday, July 18, 2005
Kayak attack!
Just got back from my buddy Loren's place in Duluth. We had our annual "guys weekend" up there with a bunch of the guys I went to college with. Most live in the Twin Cities area, although one came from northwestern MN. Usually involves pizza, poker, beer, and farting. ;-)
In past years, one group of the guys usually went golfing and those of us (including me) who are not golfers, stayed behind and caught a movie or found other activities. This year, we decided to involve everyone by trying something new--kayaking! We reserved some kayaks and headed to the Bruel (sp?) River in Wisconsin, about 45 minutes from Duluth.
Side note: Actually we'd intended to go canoeing, but Loren, in typical Loren fashion, waited until just this past Thursday to call for reservations and could only get kayaks. This in spite of us starting these plans MONTHS ago! But that's our guy Loren. :-)
Actually, despite Loren's silly-ass procrastination, all of us were pretty jazzed about kayaking. I for one had never done it and had wanted to try it for quite some time. Some of the guys ran a little late getting to Duluth, so by the time we ate lunch, got to the rental place, paid for our kayaks, picked out our life preservers and other gear, and drove out to the "launch" or whatever you'd call it, it was around 2 pm. Estimated time to kayak the 12 mile stretch: 4 hours.
I was a little shaky to start out with, but Marshall had a heck of a time. Unfortunately, the river level is particularly low this year, so it was very easy to get caught up on the bottom on rocks and get stuck. When you're stuck you get dumped into the water by the current and have to empty your kayak of water (very time consuming) or you have to push yourself off the rocks with your hands and/or the paddle. Either one saps a lot of energy from you (there were spots where I pushed myself with my hands for probably 20 feet!) and usually results in banged up knuckles, knees, or shins. Poor Marshall got stuck and/or dumped numerous times right off the bat and was understandably exhausted after a couple of miles or so.
So once we reached a bridge with a main road, he got out and Kelly followed suit to keep him company. They ended up walking several miles and eventually caught a ride to the canoe landing where our cars were waiting (they had no keys though!) and had a beer with some friendly fellow rivergoers who'd arrived earlier.
Then there were 4
So with all the waiting for guys who'd gotten stuck or been dumped in the first stretch (and Marshall certainly wasn't the only one!), we probably sat idle waiting for people for a good hour. We didn't want to leave anyone too far behind in case they got into trouble.
After the road bridge, we started cruising along at a relatively good pace, still getting stuck in the rocks here and there and enjoyed zooming through the numerous rapids. At the first major "shelf" (almost like a very small waterfall), however, around halfway through, I took my first spill. Completely biffed it! Klobe caught my kayak fortunately, and another guy helped pull it to shore. It was shallow enough to walk to shore, but very treacherous on the slippery rocks with the fast-moving current. Despite my feet being soaked, I was glad I'd followed the rental place's pamplet advice and wore my sneakers. Bare feet would have been torn to shreds and had no traction on that rock.
A few miles down river, Willy got far, far ahead of us, and I was very far ahead of Klobe and Loren (I later learned that Klobe had dumped his just after helping me after my first spill!). First time kayaking, all alone, no clue how much farther to the landing, getting very tired, out in the middle of a winding river without another soul to be seen? What if I don't see the landing and go too far? What if I run into trouble with no one else there? I'm not a nervous person for the most part, but it was a bit unsettling.
Things were fine for a while, then it happened--around a particularly sharp bend, there was a very large tree branch sticking out of the water. Try as I might, I could not maneuver the kayak deftly enough to avoid it. I smacked into it, and my ass was dumped into about 6 feet of water. The shock of being completely submerged in the water is disconcerting enough, but this was a rare spot where I couldn't touch bottom. I was close to panicking as all at once I was flailing in the water to keep from going under, trying to hold onto my paddle, and barely keeping my kayak from breaking free from my weak grasp to float down river without me. For several minutes I struggled. I held onto the branch and managed to fling my paddle over to a very muddy and steep spot on shore near the tree branch. I kept trying to swim over to shore, but my kayak skirt I was wearing kept getting caught on the branch. Finally, I reached the steep bank only to realize it was far to muddy to climb onto. I was exhausted, and pushing all this crap over to the other side of the river was far to daunting of a prospect.
After several minutes of floating and/or clinging, I heard Klobe and Loren's voices around the bend just upstream. Thank God! They came and took care of my kayak and paddle and I got resituated on the other side of the river, which was much more shallow and gently banked.
Reunited, we headed out to see if we could catch up with Willy. We caught up with him after a mile or two, and the four of us, tired, thirsty, hungry, and bruised, continued on, hoping to God we'd get to the landing soon. We paddled. And paddled. And paddled. And fucking paddled. Eventually it got to the point where around almost every bend, one of us would complain to the effect of "Where IS this fucking thing? We've got to be getting there soon." Ok, mostly it was me. :-)
Well over an hour later, Willy yelled back to us that he heard cars. We HAD to be close! Sure enough, within a few minutes, the sweet sight of the big sign and landing came into view. Sweet fancy crap!! Finally!
All at once we were proud that we had finished, relieved beyond belief to be on solid land, and realizing we'd have to ride back sopping wet. :-) I had brought a change of clothes, but I actually decided to put a towel down and ride back wet instead of dirtying up the clothes with mud and crap from the river.
It was after 7 pm. Our 4 hour excursion took well over 5, and we were spent.
By the time we dragged our kayaks and gear to the pickup point, , had some water (and beer), got changed, and drove back to Duluth, it was well after 9 pm. At my suggestion, Loren ordered a few pizzas for us on the way home, and they arrived within minutes of us getting to his house. All of us were famished and tore our way through most of 3 larges in a manner of minutes.
Poker night didn't get rolling until after 10, and we just weren't all that into it. By the time 11 rolled around, eyes were getting droopy. We were done by 11:30. By far, our shortest poker night on record. Everyone was in bed and soundly asleep by midnight. Pathetic. *grin*
All in all, it was a good time. I think 6 or 8 miles would have been fine, but 12 got to be way too much. It wouldn't have been nearly as bad if the river hadn't been so damned low though. And surprisingly, it wasn't nearly has tough on the arms as I thought it would be. Aside from scrapes and scratches, only my lower back is slightly sore. There is no back support in those kayaks at all, and holding myself in that position for the better part of 5 hours was rough.
In past years, one group of the guys usually went golfing and those of us (including me) who are not golfers, stayed behind and caught a movie or found other activities. This year, we decided to involve everyone by trying something new--kayaking! We reserved some kayaks and headed to the Bruel (sp?) River in Wisconsin, about 45 minutes from Duluth.
Side note: Actually we'd intended to go canoeing, but Loren, in typical Loren fashion, waited until just this past Thursday to call for reservations and could only get kayaks. This in spite of us starting these plans MONTHS ago! But that's our guy Loren. :-)
Actually, despite Loren's silly-ass procrastination, all of us were pretty jazzed about kayaking. I for one had never done it and had wanted to try it for quite some time. Some of the guys ran a little late getting to Duluth, so by the time we ate lunch, got to the rental place, paid for our kayaks, picked out our life preservers and other gear, and drove out to the "launch" or whatever you'd call it, it was around 2 pm. Estimated time to kayak the 12 mile stretch: 4 hours.
I was a little shaky to start out with, but Marshall had a heck of a time. Unfortunately, the river level is particularly low this year, so it was very easy to get caught up on the bottom on rocks and get stuck. When you're stuck you get dumped into the water by the current and have to empty your kayak of water (very time consuming) or you have to push yourself off the rocks with your hands and/or the paddle. Either one saps a lot of energy from you (there were spots where I pushed myself with my hands for probably 20 feet!) and usually results in banged up knuckles, knees, or shins. Poor Marshall got stuck and/or dumped numerous times right off the bat and was understandably exhausted after a couple of miles or so.
So once we reached a bridge with a main road, he got out and Kelly followed suit to keep him company. They ended up walking several miles and eventually caught a ride to the canoe landing where our cars were waiting (they had no keys though!) and had a beer with some friendly fellow rivergoers who'd arrived earlier.
Then there were 4
So with all the waiting for guys who'd gotten stuck or been dumped in the first stretch (and Marshall certainly wasn't the only one!), we probably sat idle waiting for people for a good hour. We didn't want to leave anyone too far behind in case they got into trouble.
After the road bridge, we started cruising along at a relatively good pace, still getting stuck in the rocks here and there and enjoyed zooming through the numerous rapids. At the first major "shelf" (almost like a very small waterfall), however, around halfway through, I took my first spill. Completely biffed it! Klobe caught my kayak fortunately, and another guy helped pull it to shore. It was shallow enough to walk to shore, but very treacherous on the slippery rocks with the fast-moving current. Despite my feet being soaked, I was glad I'd followed the rental place's pamplet advice and wore my sneakers. Bare feet would have been torn to shreds and had no traction on that rock.
A few miles down river, Willy got far, far ahead of us, and I was very far ahead of Klobe and Loren (I later learned that Klobe had dumped his just after helping me after my first spill!). First time kayaking, all alone, no clue how much farther to the landing, getting very tired, out in the middle of a winding river without another soul to be seen? What if I don't see the landing and go too far? What if I run into trouble with no one else there? I'm not a nervous person for the most part, but it was a bit unsettling.
Things were fine for a while, then it happened--around a particularly sharp bend, there was a very large tree branch sticking out of the water. Try as I might, I could not maneuver the kayak deftly enough to avoid it. I smacked into it, and my ass was dumped into about 6 feet of water. The shock of being completely submerged in the water is disconcerting enough, but this was a rare spot where I couldn't touch bottom. I was close to panicking as all at once I was flailing in the water to keep from going under, trying to hold onto my paddle, and barely keeping my kayak from breaking free from my weak grasp to float down river without me. For several minutes I struggled. I held onto the branch and managed to fling my paddle over to a very muddy and steep spot on shore near the tree branch. I kept trying to swim over to shore, but my kayak skirt I was wearing kept getting caught on the branch. Finally, I reached the steep bank only to realize it was far to muddy to climb onto. I was exhausted, and pushing all this crap over to the other side of the river was far to daunting of a prospect.
After several minutes of floating and/or clinging, I heard Klobe and Loren's voices around the bend just upstream. Thank God! They came and took care of my kayak and paddle and I got resituated on the other side of the river, which was much more shallow and gently banked.
Reunited, we headed out to see if we could catch up with Willy. We caught up with him after a mile or two, and the four of us, tired, thirsty, hungry, and bruised, continued on, hoping to God we'd get to the landing soon. We paddled. And paddled. And paddled. And fucking paddled. Eventually it got to the point where around almost every bend, one of us would complain to the effect of "Where IS this fucking thing? We've got to be getting there soon." Ok, mostly it was me. :-)
Well over an hour later, Willy yelled back to us that he heard cars. We HAD to be close! Sure enough, within a few minutes, the sweet sight of the big sign and landing came into view. Sweet fancy crap!! Finally!
All at once we were proud that we had finished, relieved beyond belief to be on solid land, and realizing we'd have to ride back sopping wet. :-) I had brought a change of clothes, but I actually decided to put a towel down and ride back wet instead of dirtying up the clothes with mud and crap from the river.
It was after 7 pm. Our 4 hour excursion took well over 5, and we were spent.
By the time we dragged our kayaks and gear to the pickup point, , had some water (and beer), got changed, and drove back to Duluth, it was well after 9 pm. At my suggestion, Loren ordered a few pizzas for us on the way home, and they arrived within minutes of us getting to his house. All of us were famished and tore our way through most of 3 larges in a manner of minutes.
Poker night didn't get rolling until after 10, and we just weren't all that into it. By the time 11 rolled around, eyes were getting droopy. We were done by 11:30. By far, our shortest poker night on record. Everyone was in bed and soundly asleep by midnight. Pathetic. *grin*
All in all, it was a good time. I think 6 or 8 miles would have been fine, but 12 got to be way too much. It wouldn't have been nearly as bad if the river hadn't been so damned low though. And surprisingly, it wasn't nearly has tough on the arms as I thought it would be. Aside from scrapes and scratches, only my lower back is slightly sore. There is no back support in those kayaks at all, and holding myself in that position for the better part of 5 hours was rough.
0 comments (leave yours):
Post a Comment