Category: Whitewater

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The Safest Time to Kayak Over Waterfalls is When the Water’s Big

I feel like I’ve had a lot of “20-years later” stories either lately or coming up. (Kayelling, 9/11, attending the 2002 Winter Olympics). Well, Senior year of college was a busy time for me, I guess. Today’s post talks about an event that happened 20 years ago this week.

There’s a creek near where I went to college that had a pair of roughly 6-foot waterfalls that were spaced about 50-100 yards apart. During most of the year, this is a very scenic spot with a water depth of only a few inches, but during the spring rains and snow melt, the creek swells, the current becomes much swifter, and for kayakers, the water gets too big to resist.

Gearing up for a double waterfall!

A 6-foot waterfall doesn’t sound like much. I’m a little over 6 feet tall, so it’s no big deal when I look eye-to-eye with another person the same height as me. It’s a different story when you’re sitting on the floor, looking up at someone that tall. That’s sort of what it’s like when sitting in a kayak and looking at a 6-foot-tall waterfall. I’d been over a four- or five-foot waterfall before and it went very well, but it wasn’t in water this big and it wasn’t in a “must-succeed” situation where a second set of falls lay waiting beyond.

There were three of us going that day. We all slid our boats into the water and allowed ourselves to get a good amount of space between us. Our most experienced paddler went first and demonstrated the line we should follow. As the least experienced kayaker, I went second, and the third guy brought up the rear. I followed the guide’s line, and I hit the first set of falls perfectly. I paddled right over the edge and had a great landing, and it was exhilarating!

On approach to the first waterfall
Quit while you’re ahead

I’m not exactly sure what happened next, but I think I hit some kind of undercurrent I wasn’t expecting, and I flipped over. I can tell you from experience that it’s a very unsettling feeling to be headed toward a waterfall while floating upside down in a capsized kayak.

Even though the creek was swollen to several times its usual size, the water was still only about 18 inches to two feet deep. As I was upside down, my helmet bounced along the bottom of the creek bed. I moved the paddle into position to right myself, but I had to modify the technique because the water was so shallow. I think I was trying to decide whether I should try the technique I’d practiced countless times in the pool, or let go of my paddle and use my hands to try pushing off the bottom to get flipped back up, hoping to catch the paddle again afterward. I didn’t want to risk going over the second set of falls without a paddle, and this wasn’t really the best time to try flipping back over using a method I’d never tried before, so I went the traditional route, but the water was too shallow to make it work the way I’d practiced. I don’t remember how many times if I tried it, but between not knowing how far away the upcoming falls were and confronting a compelling need to breathe, I decided to bail out.

Without question, it was really nice to be able to take a deep breath again, but I still had to contend with some challenges. After dragging my head along the bottom and fighting against the creek bed to try to position my paddle, I figured I wouldn’t have any problem just standing up wherever I was. I faced upstream and got on my knees. My wetsuit stopped above my knees, and I later realized that being pushed along while kneeling on a stone creek bed tears up your shins pretty badly. I got up on one knee, but my sandals couldn’t get any traction. I think I tried on the other knee too, but neither try worked. With my back to the looming falls, I did the only other thing I could think of: I swam as if my life depended on it in a foot and a half of water.

Thankfully, I did NOT take a trip over that second set of falls. I made it to the bank safely and jogged downstream to catch up with the first guy, who recovered my boat and paddle for me.

Ever have something just go in a TOTALLY different direction from what you expected? Don’t let it get you down. Living a life for Christ is going to have moments where you simply feel overwhelmed or inadequate. Then on top of that, experiencing failures only makes it feel worse. I’m certainly thankful there weren’t too many people there to witness this embarrassing situation. My two fellow paddlers were extremely gracious, and they reminded me that outings with the biggest mishaps make for the best stories.

If things had gone according to plan, it would have been an amazing 90 seconds to experience, but it wouldn’t be a very exciting story to pass along. Don’t be afraid to attempt big things in the name of building Christ’s kingdom, but when things don’t work out the way you expect (because God doesn’t follow YOUR plan), learn from the experience and use it to either make the next time different or to benefit someone that reminds you of your unfortunate or inexperienced younger self. You’re not the first one to make mistakes, but maybe you can pass along the wisdom you’ve learned through hard-won experience so others don’t have to make the same mistakes you’ve made.

Lord Jesus, when I look back at all the crazy situations I’ve willingly placed myself in, and how unscathed I came out of them when I should have met with much more serious consequences, it’s clear to me that there’s something after those experiences You wanted me around for, and it reminds me not to waste this life. Help me learn from the past, be bold in following after You, and share the things I’ve learned with others. Also, I don’t know how many guardian angels you’ve assigned to me, but please…thank them and bless them in a special way for me!

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You’re Not the First

Here’s a paddler going over a 10+ foot drop

By the start of senior year of college, most students are thinking about their last classes and life beyond their degree. I was thinking about it being my last year to take advantage of all the institution’s adventure sports programs.

I was into kayaking and whitewater rafting at the time. Coming back to college at the end of summer meant that the water in the local creeks and river was still warm. For kayaking, that was nice, but it was also the time of year where the flow rate was the lowest, so a lot of creeks and rivers were either too low or too slow to be enjoyable. Thankfully, we had a solution for that.

Not far from the college was a man-made lake with a concrete dam. The lake provided summer boating opportunities for visitors and residents. Every year, about this time in September, the dam operator dropped the lake’s water level roughly 10-15 feet to kill most of the shallow water algae over the winter. That way the water in these areas the following spring and summer would stay clear of excessive plant growth.

The faculty adviser for the college’s paddle sports club, a guy named Tim, was in touch with the dam operator. The operator was pretty cool about releasing the water in a time and manner that Tim would request. If we wanted a longer, sustained flow, this guy would accommodate us. If we wanted a bigger, shorter burst, he’d make it happen. The two would agree on a schedule for when the release would begin, and prior to that date’s arrival, Tim and a few other people would walk down through the creek bed with chainsaws to clear potential obstacles. It was a custom-ordered whitewater run!

I had only become interested in kayaking the previous academic year. I’m not sure why, but I got it into my head that I wanted to go over a drop in a kayak. A drop is just like it sounds…it’s a sudden change in the elevation of the creek/river bed. It could be a shelf that spans the whole width of the body of water you’re going down, or maybe a formation where one side of the river has a big drop while the other side has a more gradual slope. As it turns out, this run had a drop of probably 4-5 feet right at the beginning…great for a first-time drop. When I got the invite, this is the feature that sold me.

The day arrived and I met up with a few other guys. One of them, a maintenance guy at the college, was named Charlie. Charlie’s hobbies included woodworking and generally “MacGyvering” things. He carved his own wooden kayak paddle. He also fashioned a wooden bumper for his car when it needed to be replaced. His family hosted a number of us for dinner once, and his kids showed off a system of pulleys that allowed them to raise or lower their beds depending on whether they wanted more floor space or to go to bed. Charlie was going to walk me through my first drop.

We drove to the lake, geared up, and carried our boats down to the creek. We put in just downstream of the spillway, and the drop wasn’t far beyond. Charlie had walked me through the process a bit, laying out the mechanics of what needed to happen and the order in which they needed to happen. Much like I had learned years before, it was important to not reduce speed as you approach the drop.

Charlie was going to be the first to do the drop, so I could see where to do it and how to approach it. He worked out a signal with me before he went over the edge. A drop of 4 or 5 feet isn’t that much, but when you’re sitting in a boat that’s barely on top of the water, your eyes are only about two feet off the surface, so it looked much higher. After Charlie went over the edge, I wouldn’t be able to see him. Once he was safely down and he was ready for me to proceed, he’d stick his paddle up in the air and wave it back and forth, and that would be my “green light.”

Deciding that we were both ready, he went for it. He started paddling and kept going, right up until the bow of his boat dropped, his stern popped up out of the water, and he disappeared over the edge. A few seconds followed, and then I saw one end of a hand-carved wooden paddle stick up in the air and start waving around. It was my turn.

I went for it. I started paddling, and got faster as I neared the shelf. As I slid over the ledge, my boat’s bow dipped and for a fraction of a second I was in midair. The bow then sliced deep into the water before the kayak’s buoyancy bounced it back up to the surface. It was easier than I thought, and it was cool!

The thing that made this part of the adventure so easy was that I had someone right there to walk me through it. It was someone who had been through it before, who knew what to expect, and was physically right there to help me in case I got into a jam. In this situation, Charlie mentored me through the challenge successfully, and it was much different than if I had been there by myself and decided to try it and see what happened.

How about you? Do you have a mentor that can help guide you through a situation that’s foreign and scary to you? This life is full of unknowns, but it’s also full of people with lots of experience that you don’t have. Don’t be afraid of taking a shortcut to spare yourself some painful lessons by learning from others’ hard-won experience.

Maybe you’re more like Charlie. You’ve been around the block a few times. You see someone who’s enthusiastic but inexperienced, and it looks like they’re in an awfully big hurry to get themselves hurt or stuck in a bad situation. Why not see if they’re willing to allow you to help channel that enthusiasm into something productive? Don’t do it because you think it’ll make you look good; do it because you can help them.

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It’s Not Just About You (Part 2 of 2)

The guy in the back with the dorky pose…don’t know him

The sun came out for our second day on the whitewater. The rain and gloom had passed, and we were all much more relaxed now that we had survived the first day of paddling. The mood lifted once the gray skies, drizzle, and apprehension gave way to sunshine and confidence.

As far as the water level, this was a perfect scenario; it was an April weekend that followed a large amount of rainfall in New York’s Adirondack Mountains, but the warmer temperatures and rain helped melt a lot of the snow, which also ran into the river. The result was a river so swollen with churning whitewater that even many of the local guides had never seen it quite this big.

Our second day was a little different from the first. This time we linked up with one of the local outfits that knew the river pretty well, and we stuck close to them for a collective “safety in numbers” advantage. Laura was still our raft’s captain, and I was still paired with her to project the voice commands a bit further, but we rotated some of the paddlers around between boats.

In the afternoon, the local boat was in front of us, and then the next two rafts were ours. As we came around a sharp bend in the river, all the color drained from our faces. Spanning two thirds of the river was a gigantic standing wave that had a nasty rip curl at the top. It was a freak river feature that could only occur when extreme amounts of water shot through that section of the waterway. The guides didn’t know it was there, and none of us out-of-towners expected to see anything like it.

The local boat saw it too late, and all they could do was try to paddle through it head-on. It was too much for them; the boat got flipped right away and everybody got dumped in the chilly water. The rest of us paddled for all we were worth to get to the safer route. We safely made it past the wave, then surveyed the damage. Since we were the first boat on the scene, we made for the biggest group of helmets bobbing in the water. We started grabbing people by the life jackets and pulling them aboard. The raft behind us picked up the guide, but we got everyone else. Our kayakers started buzzing around the area picking up dropped paddles, disposable waterproof cameras, and even somebody’s bottle of Coke.

We were very near the capsized raft at that point. I thought back to all the raft-flipping I’d done in the pool during the dull winter months. I must’ve flipped a capsized raft at least 50 times in the pool. All that training was perfect for a moment like this; if I couldn’t use that knowledge and experience now, what was the point of doing it at all? I wanted to go after it…

I actually put my foot up on the rim of the raft to jump into the water. I turned back to tell Laura I was about to go after the raft, but that’s when I realized the state of complete disaster our own raft was in. It was pandemonium. Our raft was meant for eight people, but we only put six of us in it at the start of the day. Now our raft was bogged down with 14 people, only half of which had a paddle. Our raft was a self-bailer, meaning it had holes in the bottom so water that splashed in would drain out on its own. Instead of the normal inch or two of water on the floor, now it was midway up our calves. We were still flying down the river, but we were largely at the mercy of the current, headed towards God-only-knows what kind of waves, whirlpools, or strainers, and nobody knew the plan to meet up with the other rafts.

The people we just picked up were understandably chattering away about what just happened. They loudly thanked us for plucking them from the water, but all their excitement started causing a major communication breakdown for our crew and all we wanted was for them to stop talking! Laura’s tiny voice was yelling, trying to establish some sense of order, but it wasn’t doing much to get through to the newcomers. I was paired with her exactly for the purpose of echoing her commands loud enough for everyone to hear. I wanted so badly to go after the flipped raft, but it would’ve meant leaving them in an even more chaotic situation.

I turned my back on the capsized raft and started echoing Laura’s commands in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear. Our guests quieted down and our crewmembers in the front of the raft, no longer distracted by excited yammering in their ears, were able to hear us and start pointing us in the right direction. Everyone with a paddle dug just about as hard as they could, and we sluggishly moved out of the main current into the calmer waters near the riverbank. In the middle of it all, our trip leader, Tim, paddled his kayak up to the flipped raft and jumped on. I was pretty distracted with the situation in our raft, but the last I saw of him, he was laying on the raft with a big grin, paddling hard and looking like he was having the time of his life. (I know you’ll read this at some point, Tim…you beat me to it!) Anyway, it took awhile, but we eventually gathered all three rafts to reunite the guide and crew with their boat.

It was an adventure, for sure. In the moment, it was absolutely crazy and scary, but even now, more than 15 years later, I bet everyone on our trip remembers that portion of it. The trip had so many fun details that I had to journal about the experience (which is where I looked for a refresher)!

I can’t even tell you how much time I spent practicing how to right a capsized raft while in the pool at college. Most of it was done just for fun, but each time I did it, it helped contribute to the overall muscle memory and cementing the automatic steps that would need to occur when a raft actually flipped over on the river. What better time to use this experience could there possibly be than this opportunity?

Here’s the crux of it all though: just because you’ve focused so much time and effort into training or preparing for a specific type of ministry or situation that you ignore things that are “outside your lane” when God drops them in your path. To truly be a player on God’s team, you need to be willing to do what needs to be done, whatever that may be. Even if you haven’t prepared for a given scenario, He’ll make sure you’re equipped with everything you need when He presents a new challenge to you. The only thing you might be missing is a willing heart, and that’s something only you have the power to control.

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It’s Not Just About You (Part 1 of 2)

During my senior year of college I went on a whitewater rafting/kayaking trip with a club at school. It was April, and the following month was graduation, so it was sort of an early celebration of finishing college.

At our pre-trip meeting, our faculty adviser, Tim, told us that we’d have some non-students joining us. Some were alumni from the club, others were people he knew from other endeavors. There was one guy, Joshua John, that joined us for the trip, but he didn’t really know anybody else other than Tim. I thought that was probably kind of an uncomfortable situation for him, and I was one of the club’s officers, so I made a mental note to go out of my way to make him feel welcomed. Turns out he was into some extreme physical fitness workout routines. He was a man of few words, but was definitely someone you’d want sitting in the front seat of your whitewater raft, getting doused by big water while setting the cadence for everyone else in the boat.

We had some crazy experiences on that two-day trip, and I’ll cover one in the next post. We drove to the Adirondacks in upstate New York, and went rafting on the Upper Hudson River. When we left school, everything was sunny and warm and everyone was in good spirits. Everybody started getting quiet as we arrived in the mountains to find that it was raining and some spots still had a good deal of snow on the ground. After some scouting around we set up camp in the rain and in the dark, split up camp chores, and took care of whatever we needed to do, then headed off to bed. Somewhere in here I made sure to track down Joshua John and told him we were glad to have him along with us.

The next morning it was still raining, but we hit the water anyway. The river was even higher than normal during the spring thaw, and everyone was a little jumpy. We had two rafts, and there’s usually a bit of competition among rafters when there are multiple boats. It helps build camaraderie and teamwork, so the competitive spirit is generally a good thing. The other raft was fun; they’d start spinning while going through rapids, or in calm water the crew all stood up on the edge and tried to run around the outside of the raft without falling into the water. Good stuff like this helps make a trip more fun.

Run around the raft rim

The captain of the other boat, Steve, was mischievous. He was out to get the two of us that were co-captains of our boat, an alumnus named Laura and I. Laura was physically on the shorter and smaller side. The other boat’s crew took it upon themselves to sneak up behind us during calm water, grab Laura, and pull her into their boat, essentially kidnapping one of the captains. It was funny, unless you were Laura, who helplessly became a temporary hood ornament for the other raft.

Over the course of the two days they tried sneaking up to try to get me too, but most of the time we were able to either get away or fend them off. On the second day they snuck up on us again and a couple of their goons jumped into our boat and grabbed me. They tried throwing me over the side, into the river. They caught me off guard and I knew they were too much for me, but I didn’t want to make it easy for them. I resolved to hang on as long as I could before they overpowered and dunked me.

While my jaw was clenched hard and my eyes were shut tight, there suddenly came a clamor from the front of my boat. Bodies got shoved out of the way as Joshua John jumped into the fray. He picked up one of the attackers and threw him straight down hard into the water. The other invaders bailed out of our boat and jumped back to their raft. As the first guy surfaced again, confused and gasping for air, he asked with wide eyes “what the heck was THAT?!” He looked up to see Joshua John standing in our raft, barely breathing hard. He resolutely said “I have to protect my captain.”

I’m glad I found him early in the trip to say hi!

Just remember that as you go through life, the way you interact with people affects how they interact with (or on behalf of) you and others. It’s not always going to be quite this dramatic, but are you positively impacting others enough to make a difference?

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Wait For It…

Sometimes when you’re stuck in a waiting period, you just need to make the best of it.

In my senior year of college, I was the Vice President of the Paddle Sports club. This club was for people that wanted to try their hand at kayaking and whitewater rafting. The academic year is kind of tricky for paddling because school’s not in session during a huge chunk of the prime season, so we held pool sessions twice a week during the entire academic year. During those sessions, it was a great opportunity for newcomers to learn the basics of kayaking. The problem was…when there were no newcomers, or when the winter began dragging on, those pool sessions got kinda dull. If you already knew how to roll a kayak, you had to come up with other ways to keep it interesting.

In the pool, those of us that were regulars would try strange stuff: try to roll a capsized kayak without using a paddle; setting up a kayak on one of the diving boards and getting in, then sliding off the board into the pool; putting on a life jacket and trying to swim down to the bottom of the pool’s deep end to retrieve something from the floor. Out of all of it though, I think the nuttiest stuff we did involved practicing righting a capsized raft.

When you have a whitewater raft full of people, and you’re shooting through some big water, it can be a dangerous thing if the raft flips and people get scattered. It’s best to have at least a couple of people in each raft that know how to flip it back over. That way if a raft gets flipped in some whitewater, whoever’s closest can flip it back over and get on with the business of bringing everyone back into the boat.

Example of righting a capsized raft

Each raft used in whitewater rafting normally has a rope tied to at least one of the sides. If the raft flips upside-down, someone climbs up on top of it. While grabbing the rope and standing on the opposite edge of the raft, they lean backward while pulling on the rope, eventually falling into the water and flipping the capsized raft back over the right way.

Once you know how to do it, it’s not a difficult thing to do. It’s important to practice though, because it’s one thing to do it in the pool, but it’s something entirely different when you’re bobbing through whitewater, trying to climb up on the raft while wearing a wetsuit, helmet, and life jacket, all while holding a paddle and trying to count heads.

We did a lot of raft-flipping in the pool. The basic version gets boring quickly though. You start trying to make it more interesting. I tried dozens of times to flip the raft while timing the jump just right so that I landed in the righted raft without falling in the water. We paired up and had a guy swim under the capsized raft and hang onto a pontoon, so that when the other guy standing on top of the raft flipped it over, there was already a guy in the boat. We doubled the number and had two guys hanging onto pontoons while two other guys flipped the boat. We even had three guys on top of a capsized raft…as two guys flipped it, the third guy tried to get catapulted into the water (although he miscalculated and got flipped the wrong direction). It was goofy stuff that was just fun, didn’t hurt (much), and served no practical purpose other than helping to pass the time.

What am I getting at? Sometimes you’re going to be stuck waiting for awhile. Whether it’s a low-level job where you have to put your time in, maybe a military assignment that’s a terrible but necessary rung on the ladder, or maybe some season of life where you have to put your primary plans on hold for a bit, you’ll probably find that God put you in (or you got yourself into) a situation where the things you want to do are going to have to take a back seat for awhile. In Paddle Sports, we had the luxury of the season being predictable; we knew we wouldn’t do much outdoor paddling from November to February, but things were going to pick up with the spring thaw. A predictable season is the reality for some, but for others, they don’t know how long they’ll be waiting.

If you find yourself in the middle of your own version of the “winter months,” hang in there. Surround yourself with people that will keep your spirits up and keep spurring you on. There’s usually a lot you can do or learn even in those trying times. Spring’s coming, but for now, do your best to make the most of the time you’ve got.

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Punch Above Your Weight

After I started going to Paddle Sports pool sessions in college, I got hooked. (See this post for a refresher.) It’s a little tricky to learn how to kayak in college, though. Unless you’re in summer school, you miss out on some of the year’s best kayaking weather. You start a new academic year at the end of summer, so even if you start playing around with kayaks in the pool right at the beginning of the school year, you’re going to have to work very hard at it to get out in the whitewater before winter.

Fortunately there was a happy medium near where I went to school in western New York state. There was a canal that flowed along (I think it was the city of) Rochester; parallel to the canal some group had built a kayak course. A kayak course is a series of 25 gates that paddlers are supposed to go through in sequence without touching any of the poles with any part of your boat, paddle, or you. You’re supposed to go through green gates while moving downstream, and red ones while coming back upstream. The water wasn’t flowing fast, but it was moving enough to make a difference between paddling in a pool and paddling in real water. It was a good way to work on technique, control, and gain a better understanding of how kayaks handle in moving water.

Since this was my first time in a kayak outside of a pool, I wasn’t very fast. On my first run I moved through the course slowly, trying to figure out how a kayak behaves in a current, seeing where I was going to need to make turns, cut across areas of hardest flow, and spot the more difficult places in the course. In a rookie moment, I even flipped over and couldn’t right myself. Embarrassingly, I had to slip out of my capsized kayak in a shallow little pool of water as these much better paddlers zoomed through the course. Even that was important though, as it was my first bailout in moving water (I’ll have a future post about a much more dramatic bailout later).

It’s kind of a strange tie-in, but in your service to Christ even your perceived failures are important. If you find yourself needing to bail out of a kayak, it’s probably because you’ve failed at righting yourself. Once you get used to bailing out of a kayak in a swimming pool, it becomes very easy, because there’s no current, there’s no major danger, and there’s probably someone standing by, ready to jump in and help you if you really need it. Bailing out in moving water, even on a little course like this, is different. The water’s cold, you’re wearing a life jacket, helmet, and other gear you don’t normally wear in the pool, and if you open your eyes underwater, you’re not going to see much. Whether it’s kayaking or some other aspect of life, failing during difficult circumstances increases your confidence and abilities during easier circumstances. Failures can make you better.

There’s an expression for attempting something that you’re probably not qualified or equipped to try. It’s called “punching above your weight.” In boxing, the two fighters in a given bout are generally very close in weight. That’s to make sure that the fight is fair. If two boxers are both in great shape, with little or no fat on either one of them, yet one is 60 pounds heavier than the other, it’s probably not going to be a fair fight. When fighters are very close to being the same weight, they might have different body types, but they’re close to being evenly matched. If you’re punching above your weight, it means you’re taking on someone that has an advantage in defeating you. In the Bible story of David and Goliath, David was definitely punching above his weight according to men’s standards. By taking on an obstacle or challenge that’s “beyond your weight class,” it makes the challenges that are in your weight class seem easy. Over time it also brings once-feared challenges within your class, and prepares you to take on something bigger and more formidable.

To continue with the kayaking course…as I spent time trying to figure out the best way to approach certain portions of the course, I started paying attention to how other kayakers were doing it. It was fun to see them shoot through the course and try different approaches to the various gates. “That was a cool move…oh, okay, and that set him up for the next gate.” I learned by watching others, and by listening to conversations that more experienced paddlers were having.

You might see where I’m going with this. The people you surround yourself with are the people whose attitudes, habits, and characteristics you adopt. You become more like them. Hanging out with people that are better or more experienced at something than you are will make you better at it. It’s tough to maintain a strong drive to improve if you’re already the most capable one in a group. Similarly, if you hang out with people with negative attitudes, poor character, or bad habits, it’s a fair bet that you’ll soon find yourself with the same outlook as them or doing the same things they are.

God’s going to give you challenges in life. Some you’ll feel confident about handling and some you’ll be more doubtful about. You might even fail at some of them, but it will be for a reason/purpose that you might not see right away. Some people get discouraged by failure and stop attempting the grand things, opting instead to take on things they believe they have a more reasonable chance of accomplishing.

It’s good to share your wisdom and experience with people less skilled than you, but also understand that this practice won’t help you grow your skills, it will only slow their atrophy. By all means mentor or teach those folks, but remember to spend time punching above your weight, too. It will make your current weight class seem easy, and that overwhelming challenge seem a bit less scary.

Time to open the floor for discussion. Has God ever placed a seemingly impossible obstacle in your path, only for Him to walk you through it successfully?

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Fight the Need to Breathe

Learn to kayak in calm water before you hit the whitewater

The college I went to had a lot of programs and clubs that were geared toward adventure sports. The school’s gym had a pool, but the hallways that bordered it had windows so you could look in and see what was going on. A couple of nights during the week, I’d be walking through the gym for one reason or another and look through the windows to see a bunch of people kayaking around in the pool. During my junior year I finally wandered into the pool area during one of these sessions. The people in this club, called “Paddle Sports,” were whitewater kayak/raft enthusiasts.

I’d never kayaked before. It’s a little intimidating to see people practicing how to right a flipped kayak (while inside it), especially when that neoprene thing around their waist looks like it would make it difficult to get out if you really had to. I ended up walking into a pool session to check it out one evening, and the people seemed friendly enough. It wasn’t long before I was squeezing myself into a kayak and sliding off the deck into the pool.

For safety purposes, the first thing they had me practice was getting out of a flipped boat on my own. Until you get a feel for how a kayak handles, especially during a turn, it’s easy for the boat to flip over. Practicing this move first gives you confidence to start paddling around the pool and knowing that you can get yourself out of a jam if you flip over unexpectedly.

Once I was ready to move on to another skill, it was time to learn how to right a capsized kayak. This is where it got tricky, because not only do you have to coordinate a number of motor functions so they execute at the right time, but you also have to become comfortable enough with the process that you can suppress your survival instinct. Many people are able to lean far back during the maneuver to make it easier to roll on the long axis, and lots of beginners are able to figure out the right way to snap their hips to make the boat begin to roll, but what really takes a lot of getting used to is the idea that your head needs to be the last part of your body to come out of the water.

In order to make the roll work while you’re upside down, you position the paddle on the surface of the water by feel, you snap your hips while pulling against the paddle, and you lean back so your head nearly hits the stern during the roll. If you try to make your head come up first, it’s not going to work because the weight distribution and momentum just aren’t right. If you try it you might be able to gasp a quick breath, but you’re right back down again. When that happens you slowly move the paddle into position again, but the situation is more urgent now; that last gasp wasn’t a deep inhale. You start to focus on how badly you want to breathe, rather than the synchronization of the moves that needs to occur. You give it another shot, but if you lead with your head again, at best you might get another short gasp. If that happens, panic sets in and there’s much less of a chance that you can pull off the move on the third try. Part of the reason is that now there’s almost no focus on the technique; you only think about how you probably don’t have enough air to both give it another shot AND bail out if you fail.

Even with help from a teacher, this roll didn’t work because the guy led with his head

By then most people “pull their skirt” and slide out of the upside-down boat, happy to be in a pool rather than in the middle of some rapids somewhere. For most beginners, this experience of being panicked becomes crucial in understanding exactly why it’s so important to leave their head underwater until the end of the roll, and in helping to do something that feels completely unnatural: leaving your head underwater when all you want is air.

Living a life for Christ can be a lot like this. At times you have to fight against your own instincts and learn to prioritize your own needs lower than you otherwise would have. Sometimes the ability to do this only comes through failures or painful experience, but that experience helps you understand exactly why you need to do things differently. As time goes on and you intentionally spend time developing your relationship with Christ, you learn to act in ways that the world finds unnatural, but that you have come to understand as necessary for God’s glorification.

If you feel God pushing you a certain direction, but you’re avoiding it for no other reason than because it doesn’t seem like what a rational person would do, fight the need to breathe. It could lead you places you wouldn’t have expected.