A Paddler's Journey for the Holidays!

My kayaking memoir, A Paddler's Journey, has been out for a few months now and I can't tell you how great it is to hear from folks who have read and enjoyed it. When I showed up at Lumpy one of the participants searched me out to tell that her friend had read the book all the way through in one sitting and told her she had to get it. She wasn't reading quite as fast but was half-way through and loving it. A number of paddlers have expressed a little surprise that someone with my experience goes through the same issues: doubt, fear, frustration, failure. But that's kind of the point - the details may be different, the trips a little grander and rivers a littler harder, but we all really experience the same things. I think non-paddlers will get just as much out of it for the very same reasons.

So in light of the holidays, and hoping people might want to share with their non-paddling friends a little window in the world of kayaking, I'm putting the book on sale.  If you purchase it through the CreateSpace site and use the code XUW6M6ZV you'll get $3.00 off the cover price. That makes it only $9.99!

Paperback $9.99

And if you want a signed copy you can order that through my website. You can even tell me what you want on the inscription and have me mail it directly to someone special as a gift. I have limited stock on hand so first come first serve for Christmas gifts. You'll need to order by 12/15/15 in order to make sure it gets there in time. And if you order in December I'll even through in a free copy of my Paddle California DVD, highlighting some of the best kayaking our wonderful state has to offer.

Signed Paperback $15

(with free Paddle California DVD)

The digital version is temporarily only available at Amazon and at $2.99 you don't really need a sale price to afford it :)

Kindle eBook $2.99

And if you've already read the book, let me know what you thought - I love to get feedback. You can always leave a comment, or if you want to share your thoughts with the rest of the world, consider writing a quick review. (Reviews also help drive Amazon search engines, so just by leaving one you'll help other people find the book)

And for those who missed it the first time, here's the trailer if you want more info on the book itself:

13 Truths About Middle-aged Kayakers

A number of my paddling friends shared an article on Facebook the other day entitled 13 Truths About Whitewater Kayaking. It's a light-hearted article about the love for the sport and a lot of it 'rings true'. But when I really think about it, and as one of my friends pointed out, it doesn't actually hold true - not for me or most of the paddlers I know who aren't teenagers anymore. (The article is classified in '20 Somethings, Culture & Art).

So I thought I'd share my take on what I think is true about kayakers. And I'm including all kayakers, 'cause whitewater isn't the only place you'll find true paddlers who love their sport. Here are my truths and what I see on the water:

1. Kayaking is what you think about when you have a free moment.

Much of my day is spent thinking about my job. Sure, it's not as much fun as thinking about kayaking, but it's important and I derive some satisfaction when I figure out a problem or accomplish something important. I think about the future and how I'm going to pay for a mortgage. I worry about the state of our economy, the influx of money in politics, and what's on sale at the grocery store. I also spend a fair bit of time thinking about my family and friends, worrying about those going through hard times.

The truth is the most hard-core paddlers I know are very well-rounded fascinating people who lead interesting lives outside the paddling world. Talk to EJ about life and raising kids if you ever get the chance. Check out Diane Gaydos' highlight reel and consider the fact she did all that while in med school. Look at the beauty of Darin McQuoid's pictures and you'll see an artistic talent that reaches far beyond the river. If all someone ever thought about was kayaking I'd run out of interest in that conversation pretty quick.

2. You jump for joy when the next Moody's report comes out.

Let's face it, most of us are more concerned with how our 401k is doing than river flows. Even I, who writes about kayaking all the time, would generally rather read about important issues that affect my life than about kayaking. And I know from experience that most kayakers would rather go kayaking than read a magazine. My wife's an avid paddler and even she doesn't read this blog regularly (though bless your heart if you're one of those who does :). Whitewater kayakers in particular tend to be people who live in the moment and don't spend too much of their time worrying about other people having their moments.

3. When you meet another kayaker you instantly have something to talk about.

It is a great thing about kayaking that when you meet a stranger at the put-in you immediately have a topic of conversation. It does avoid the awkward party scene where you grope for any shared interest to start talking about. And you can indeed bond quite quickly on the river. But if all you know about me is my paddling you don't know me very well. I may end up trusting my life to a stranger I met an hour ago, but that doesn't make them my best friend. I do paddle with my best friends, but it's what they do for me off the water that's earned them that moniker.

4. You choose your vacation by how much time off you get and what you'll do with the kids.

I don't actually have any kids of my own, but somehow that's still the basis of how I choose my vacation: what does it mean for the family. My wife paddles so we often take kayaking vacations. But we do have to figure out what to do with the dog. We do have to work in time to visit friends, attend weddings, go see the family back home. It's a luxury to only worry about yourself and your desires, one that's good to take once in a while, but even us irresponsible adults have a lot more complexitites in life to manage.

5. You find little need to explain your passion to anyone.

Maybe when you first start kayaking you feel some need to justify your passion to those who don't understand the sport. After a while you realize that your kayaker friends already know what your passion is all about and those who don't kayak won't really understand. Much more importantly, who cares if they do? Don't get me wrong, if I think someone will appreciate learning about kayaking I'll share the stoke with them. But lots of people don't really care what I love about the sport. They have no interest in it. That's fine. They might love gardening or restoring muscle cars. Good on 'em. Let everyone have their passion and embrace the diversity in the world.

6. Kayaking is not your church.

Some kayakers go a real church on Sundays. Their religious faith is an important part of their life. I know that 'church' has become part of the kayaking vernacular, and it's appropriate for some folks, but it doesn't capture my thoughts towards the sport in any way. And it discounts the religious views of many that contains thoughts beyond a good boof or enjoyment of nature. Not every kayaker is a nature-before-all-else tree-hugger, and even those who are might not consider nature the same as religion. For some people kayaking is a sport and and hobby. That's enough.

7. You can't keep up with the slang of those darn young-uns.

I've run the gnar. I've thrown a brown-claw (though ironically). I do occasionally lapse into jargon talking with my paddling buddies. But I'm not into the 'scene'. I don't worry about keeping up with the cool kids. I kinda like talking like an adult and using words, sometimes lengthy onomatopoetic ones to convey my deep love of kayaking.

8. You don't judge others by how much kayaking they do.

OK, I married a kayaker. But I certainly didn't marry her because she's a kayaker. I married her for her outlook on the world, the kindness she shows others, the passion she brings to her job (which involves helping disadvantaged kids), and the beautiful person she is on the inside. I know a number of awesome couples who paddle together. I also see some of the strongest marriages with a partner who doesn't kayak at all.  If you limit your dating pool to paddlers you're shortchanging yourself.

9. You'd rather meet a social activist than a famous kayaker.

I've met a number of famous kayakers. Pretty much to a person they have been some of the nicest and most interesting people I've met. And pretty easy to meet - just do some kayaking and you're bound to run into them. But when I think about the famous people I'd like to meet it's the people in my field - famous writers who I'd love to learn from. Or possibly cool folks who do things like organize charity programs for mosquito nets in Africa or events to help disabled vets get back into experiencing life. Go ahead and fantasize about meeting a famous kayaker. But if you do, make sure to ask them about something other than kayaking. You'll learn a lot that way.

10. Female Kayakers.

Yes, female kayakers are pretty awesome. Females are pretty awesome. Kayakers are pretty awesome. Male kayakers are pretty awesome too. The traits that make someone a kayaker are often the traits that make an attractive human being. For me, these traits include determination and a spirit of adventure, but they also include concern for others, willingness to face self-doubt, respect for those on a different path, and an appreciation of peace and beauty. You don't have to be a bad-ass kayaker to be an amazing person.

11. Your ideal lazy day consists of sleeping in, reading the paper, doing yardwork, and watching a Pixar movie.

I make kayak movies. Lots of them. And I really enjoy some well-done kayak porn now and then. But I don't have time to watch another GoPro video of the Green. I'd rather go kayaking than watch it, but if that's not possible there are a million other things I need to get done. I would love to spend an entire day in bed doing nothing, but if I somehow found the time to do that I would read a book or watch a PBS documentary. Maybe see what this Avengers thing is all about. I'm happy to take a break from kayaking and have many other hobbies with which to fill my time.

12. You like a nice Pinot and wouldn't dare drink it out of a booty.

I kayak because I enjoy it. I enjoy many aspects of the sport, including the conversation, the setting, the camaraderie. I definitely enjoy sipping a beer around the fire while cooking dinner and reminiscing about the day's run. But don't need to be punished for swimming. I don't need to torture those who do something that we all admit is a part of the sport. I don't enjoy the thought of drinking a beer out of my wet booty and don't feel the need to do things I don't enjoy to satisfy some silly social convention. If you enjoy that tradition, carry on. If not, no worries.

13. Much Love.

There truly is much love in this sport. Kayaking brings together some great people and it's easy to get along with folks who you might not enjoy in other situations. I've bonded over a kayak trips, met my wife through kayaking, and count numerous kayaking stories as highlights in my life. But I like to think that most people have found something to be passionate about. Whether it's raising their kids, building model trains, or collecting Taylor Swift paraphernalia. Kayakers don't have a monopoly on love and I like to see the stoke in whatever form it takes 

There may have been a time where I let one thing dominate my life. Where I could commit myself to something completely and without reservation. Over time, my life has grown more complex and I keep adding new things all the time. To me, that's made it much richer and more fulfilling, and as glad as I am that kayaking is a part of my life, I'm thankful that my life is much more than kayaking.

Dig a Little Deeper

I've got a point, but it's going to take me a bit to get there.

Plastics are F-ing awesome!

I got into whitewater kayak well after plastic boats hit the scene and revolutionized the sport, but I have an appreciation for history and plenty of experience in composite sea kayaks and polo boats. Plastic kayaks are so much tougher and more durable, they hold up to abuse and allow for design innovation and mass production to serve more paddlers. They're cheaper, allowing more people to get into the sport of kayaking. They're lightweight - yeah, I know they're heavier than composite boats, but when you think about what they do and what they're expected to survive, they're remarkably light.

In the bigger picture, kayaks aren't really all that important to the world. But how about artificial limbs? Hip replacements? MRIs? Malaria mosquito nets? The way plastics have impacted the medical field and made our lives safer and better (and even just plain possible) dwarf any recreational use of the material. Little things, like blood storage bags that don't break when you drop them to lowering staph infection rates through use of disposables.

And for those interested in saving energy, using renewable sources and limiting carbon emissions: plastics make wind turbines possible, make planes and cars lighter and thus more fuel efficient, and can be used for insulation that limits the need for heating buildings with natural gas.

Mr. McGuire was right. There's a great future in plastics.

Plastics are evil!

There are some really bad aspects to plastic. The water bottles we all used to drink from contained Bisphenol A (BPA), which has been shown to affect hormone levels, increase cancer risk, and alter brain development. (And even if you've stopped using those bottles, BPA is everywhere and 90% already have it in our bodies).

Plastic microbeads are a huge problem in our waterways, eventually leading to the ocean and poisoning the entire food chain - the one we're on top of. Plastic's own virtues - its lightweight, almost indestructible nature - also lead to its dangers, breaking down to smaller sizes but never chemically changing to something benign.

We've banned plastic bags since they end up in landfills and will be there for thousands of years (even though we could very easily recycle them). Instead we use bio-degradable materials made from natural sources, like cotton or paper, which we farm or harvest, theoretically to regrow but often simply destroying the natural environment to produce.

Plastics aren't the issue.

Recently a few hundred kayakers took to the water to protest the launch of a Shell Oil platform destined for the waters off Alaska. A few days later, an oil pipeline burst off Refugio Beach outside Santa Barbara, spreading 21,000 gallons of oil into the sea. This is the area where I learned to paddle, paddling along the SoCal coast and out to the Channel Islands. But it could happen - and has happened - almost anywhere in the world, and disaster is disaster whether in your backyard or across the globe.

Oil is the main ingredient in plastic. About five percent of all the oil produced is used to make plastic. That oil is formed over thousands of years, consisting of biological agents (plants) which were made of carbon - carbon taken out of the air. Oil represents nature's caching of carbon, a cycle that removes carbon dioxide from the atmosphere and stores it safely deep beneath the surface of the earth.

But in digging up that oil we have an energy source. One that allows us to travel freely and cheaply, both halfway around the world to kayak in Antarctica, or to our local run just a couple hours up in the hills. It's made the world smaller, letting us get to know our not-so-near neighbors and move from one country to another. It's kept us warm at night and lighted the way. It's powered the electricity that transformed the very nature of society (including this wonderful internet that allows me to share my thoughts with you).

But as we all hopefully know by now, carbon in the air, in the form of carbon dioxide which is released when oil is burned or processed. affects the temperature of the planet as a whole. More plastic, more oil, more carbon dioxide, higher temperature. Higher temperatures = lots of problems.

What's the point?

The point is: it's not so simple. Those kayaktivists drove to the water in mostly gas-powered vehicles (or electric - likely generated by burning more fossil fuels and packed into a battery filled with toxic chemicals); many paddled plastic boats built from the very substance they didn't want taken from the ground. For all it's back-to-nature sentimentality, kayaking is a consumption sport, a privileged use of a limited resource that has real, negative impacts upon the world. It's a luxury.

I love to kayak and I love kayakers - hopefully that's obvious from everything I've written the past five years. The paddling community has a long tradition of supporting many worthy causes that respect the environment and our fellow man. But it's a small community and its needs are relatively unimportant for their own sake. Our hobby is part of the problem while our voices are calling for a solution. We are contradictory and hypocritical by our nature, though our hearts are in the right place and our desires pure.

Personally, I believe kayaking is a valid use of limited resources and the point of life is not to leave the planet unchanged and undisturbed, but to enjoy our time here in a responsible way that allows those who follow to do the same. I burn up carbon, heat up the environment, take short showers and recycle. I try to find my balance. But that balance is my own and I don't expect everyone to end up at the same point on the scales.

I think all paddlers - all people - need to recognize the complexity of our lives, even when we try to live simply. It's not about guilt or shaming; it's not about right vs. wrong. We all make many choices, conscious or not, and we all have goals, beliefs, and practical realities that make up our world. Each of us chooses differently, and those choices filter our reactions to each other. We all might be better of if we take a step back, consider the complexity, and even if we can't wrap our heads around it all, at least we can recognize that it's there and respect the decisions others have made. For all the talk of plastics, most of us are living in glass houses, so choose your actions accordingly.

Milestones

I'm not real big on watching numbers or touting my own accomplishments, but yesterday this blog passed 100,000 views. It's not a big number in the viral world, but that's a lot of eyeballs looking at my simple words and pictures. I took up this blog six years ago just for the fun of it, and I'm happy to report that's still the reason I write - because it's fun. It's nice to know that some people out there enjoy it as well.

In looking back over the six years and 260 posts, some things stand out. My first post turned out to be a bit prophetic, an early visit to Mendocino and the place I now call home. My most viewed post is a kayak review, though it also demonstrates why I don't do a lot of reviews on the site. My most commented on post deals with kayak repair - and I've actually updated it recently in case it's a topic you're interested in. And the post that went the most viral (at least for a day or two) seemed to connect with many of the everyday paddlers out there. Lots of highlights in there, and I'd be hard-pressed to choose a favorite. But there is one post that stands out as the epitome of why I started this blog - to relate the joy of paddling that I've found and share a personal experience that hopefully inspires others.

While I may cringe a little at the low quality of some of the video I first put up, and I know that I'd lose days and weeks if I went back to edit all the writing that really isn't up to my current standard, I'm quite proud of this little blog overall and like it all the more for not being perfect.

And though I sit alone and type away at my computer, processing photos and editing video, there is something about sharing thoughts and feeling along with the simple details that make the experiences all the richer. So thank you all for visiting. Thanks for leaving a comment and sharing your own thoughts. Thanks for adding to my tally and expressing some appreciation, whether in a simple like or some kind words around a campfire. Paddling itself is just one more activity to do. It's the people that make it special.

In that light, and continuing to try to give back to a sport that's given me so much, I'm having a little contest. The first person who can name the location of this picture (body of water) will win a free Paddle California DVD. Leave your guesses in the comments (I may be out paddling, so don't be upset if I don't respond to the winner right away :-).

A Paddler's Journey: What it takes to create a book

As my regular readers know, I've been working on a book, a paddling memoir tracing my career as a kayaker. But I know from experience that most people don't really understand what all it takes to make a book, so I thought I'd explain the process a little more.

Putting words on paper (or into a word processor). That's what most people think of when you say you're writing a book. And you do have to do that. But that's the fun and easy part, and it's just the beginning. Sure, you could just ramble on for page after page, just collect the stuff I've already written here, but a book - a real and true book - is different than a collection of blog posts.

When I set out to write A Paddler's Journey, I needed a theme, something to hold it all together and give it a backbone to build around. I wanted to share some fun paddling stories, but that alone wouldn't be worthy of a book. I decided to show my progression through the sport and all the lessons I learned along the way. How becoming a paddler has influenced my life as a whole. I did this through stories, and the stories can be taken by themselves and enjoyed as individual adventures, but each one builds on the previous and they all lead somewhere - to the person I am today. I had to leave out some good stories that didn't fit. I had to include more than just the paddling - I had to talk about the people, since they influenced me as much as the water. It took a lot more thought and careful deliberation to come up with the content for the book.

But then I did write it all down. That was fun. Then I reread it and saw all my mistakes - mistakes everyone makes in a first draft - and that wasn't so fun. I edited, changing large chunks of text, deleting some chapters, including more of my emotions, trying to be more descriptive and entertaining in my prose. It takes a lot to edit a couple hundred pages.

Then I sent that draft off to several folks for feedback. Quite a number never responded. It's very understandable - everyone is really busy and even if they squeeze in the time to read it they might not know how to critique it. But spending months pouring your heart and sole into an artistic endeavor, one that reveals your innermost thoughts and lays out who you are as a human being, only to get chirping crickets in response, is never easy.

But some did respond. They said good things and they also made suggestions of ways to improve it. I didn't agree with all of them, and some were contradictory, but it gave me more information and allowed me to go back in for another draft. That's right, I re-wrote the entire book, tightening it up, making every sentence the best I could. Months of hard work.

That basically got me to a near-final draft. Currently I'm working on a little bit of final editing - more proofreading than anything, making sure there are no typos, no missed words or clumsy constructions. Going through 57,000 words individually to make sure each one is correct. It's not fun or easy and requires a huge amount of concentration. I take books seriously.

Is that it? Is having all those words sorted out enough? Not even close. I plan to publish my book as a physical thing as well as in electronic form. Both formats require more preparation.

Digital books are pretty easy to format. It takes a little more than just uploading your Word document, but not that much. The main thing is to make sure your code is clean, that the conversion engines can handle it (there are multiple eBook formats, so you have to have a slightly different source file for each one). It's about adjusting styles, removing tabs, including title page info, lots of little things. I've done it before so I know it's not too hard, but once again it requires a lot of attention to the details.

A physical book is a much larger beast to slay. You have to choose a font, decide on a trim size (how big the book will be), set chapter breaks, create drop caps for chapter openings, check the line spacing, the leading, the line wraps (removing widows and orphans), confirm margins and adjust headings for each section. It's typesetting, an art and industry unto itself, but as a self-publisher all the work falls on me unless I pay someone else to do it (which isn't financially realistic for a book that will likely make me a few hundred dollars). There are so many little things about a book that readers don't notice - unless it's off, then they know something's not right even if they can't name what it is.

Then there's cover design, another job that I'm doing myself. It's easy enough to put a title on top of a picture, but that cover is the main thing that sells the book, so choices of color palette, text sizing, font choice, word layout, all have a huge impact on how the reader first perceives that book. And if you get them to pick up the book (or stop to read the Amazon page), there's the back-cover copy, a one-paragraph summation of the entire project that needs to sell the book to a dubious buyer.

All of that to create a book, but it all means nothing if you don't market the book. You need to get people to look at the cover, to read the copy, to read sample pages. Again, with no budget to hire professionals, that means me talking about here on my blog, asking my friends to spread the word, calling distributors and even individual kayak shops to ask if they want to stock a few copies. All for a couple of dollars for each book you sell (and if you consider the average self-published book sells less than a hundred copies, you start to realize why very few authors actually make a living at writing books).

I'm nearing the end of the journey. I expect to have a proof copy by the end of next month and be ready to go to print a couple months after that. But I'm trying to do all this work while holding down a full time job and living the rest of my life (including teaching some kayaking now and then).

So if someone says they're writing a book, you might want to think that they're just typing away, writing out stories or ideas and having fun doing it. And that might be true. But if someone is a real author, if they're putting out a book that's equivalent to what would come from a professional publisher, then they're doing a whole lot more than that. As a reader, you're free to just enjoy the words, but maybe somewhere in the back of your mind try to appreciate all of the effort it takes to bring you each and every one of those books you breeze through and throw on the shelf to fade into memory. Writing is something special and I applaud anyone who takes it seriously and does it well. It's a journey every bit as challenging and rewarding as any kayak trip.

American Canoe Association - California Council

I've been talking about the American Canoe Association (ACA) a fair bit on the blog recently, and partly that's because I've started a new role within the organization. I'm the Clubs Director for the ACA's new California state Executive Council, part of a program with councils for every state. It's a volunteer position, as are all positions on the council, and we're all in the process of defining what it really means. Here's what we've come up with so far.

The Executive Councils are a way for the ACA to have a local focal point in each state. We're here to help spread the word - actually, lots of words - as well as listen to the what the community has to say. We want to let the world know what the ACA is and what it does, but also we want to help paddlers connect with one another. To accomplish this, we've set up a Facebook page that we will use to communicate.

What will we communicate? First, information about the ACA and it's many great programs, like instructor certification, Paddle America Clubs, insurance offerings, public safety education, and paddler advocacy. The ACA has been around for one hundred and thirty-five years, always a non-profit devoted to paddle sports. It's main goal has been one of safety, with the motto of education not regulation. It offers a lot of great resources and we hope to highlight them through the Facebook page, especially the things most pertinent to our great state.

We also want to help paddlers connect with each other. We want to let the paddlers know about cool things like the Cal100, or how SUP paddlers are welcomed at the Santa Cruz Paddlefest. And maybe some sea kayakers would be interested in learning about river slalom races, like the Moke Races, or rafters wanting to get involved with adaptive kayaking programs like Team River Runner in San Diego. We want to help new paddlers find out about their local clubs, like the Los Angeles Kayak Club, so they'll find more people to paddle with. This is a large state, and while paddlers make great communities, it's often hard to connect with those communities if you don't know they exist, and it's hard for the communities to connect to each other when they're far apart.

In that vein, we want to hear from the paddlers out there. What would you like the ACA to do for you? How can we contribute to the kayaking/rafting/SUPing/rescue world? What does California paddling need? One of the goals of the state council initiative is to have a local face on the ACA so conversations are a little more immediate and personal. Once again, it's all about communication.

As the Clubs Director for the council, my goal is to help the clubs that already exist in a variety of ways. I want to make sure they know about the insurance options that the ACA provides, which can be invaluable for putting on events where a certificate of insurance is needed. I want to make sure they're aware of the CFS grants which offer money to organizations doing public service, like cleaning up a beach or river bank. But mostly I want to help clubs reach out to new paddlers, to help them find each other and get more people into our great big paddling community. The ACA has a lot of history and a long reach already established, and we're happy to use it to help out the many little (and not so little) clubs out there. Let's make this an even bigger party.

So if you're a paddler in California, we want to have something for you. If you're not seeing it, let us know what you want and we will try to get it. If you're not from Cali, you're welcome to stop by too - we know that you all plan to come visit at some point since we have some of the best paddling in the world no matter what type of paddling you're talking about. So go like our Facebook page and say hi when you're there - I'm one of the administrators. Happy paddling!

Stepping Back

This is a very personal post for me. It's not a reaction to anything in particular, but something that's been on my mind for the past few years and I'm writing this not to prescribe or advise, but to help me crystallize my own thoughts and feelings. I've stepped back my paddling, both in quantity and difficulty, and I'm no longer an extreme kayaker by any measure. It's been a conscious choice, but with a number of unconscious elements involved.

I don't think I ever really paddled on the edge. Sure, I run class V, but not the gnar. I've done some serious sea kayak trips and played in some rough conditions, including solo adventures, but I've never felt like it was at great risk. Adrenaline was never my goal, and I'm a pretty conservative person, more of a control freak than a free spirit. But there has always been danger involved in what I do and I am well aware that risk is a part of challenging paddling. I've had my share of injuries, and while I haven't lost any close friends to the sport, I do know people who've been seriously injured or killed while kayaking.

I accepted those risks and had a few close calls over the years (like this), but I never considered my life so precious that it needed to be held back, safe in a protected box, for fear of scratching it. I used my body like my gear - hard and with purpose, treating it with respect but knowing I pushed it to its limits and failure was a possibility. My life was my own and I made the payments on it. I didn't answer to anyone else and I would be the one to deal with its loss.

But I'm married now. I have a partner who shares my life with me, on and off the water. When we paddle together I feel more concern for her safety, even when there's no significant risk, than I ever cared for my own. When she's not around and I paddle harder stuff, I still think about her more than myself. I no longer worry about what an injury would do to me, but how it would affect her. I feel no urge to risk my life because I can't bear to think about the impact its loss would have on her. My life is not just my own, and I treat it like it borrowed gear, something that I am free to use but I need to bring it back whole and sound at the end of the day.

(Let me make this very clear now: she's very understanding and appreciative of my skill and experience, and while she worries about me as any wife would, she's never asked me to curtail what I do or limit my paddling for her sake. My actions and decisions are based upon what I choose to do and not in response to what others may expect of me.)

I have read many accounts of those who've died pursuing their passion. Lots of talk about how they died doing what they love, that it was their nature, and their loved ones understood that risk was a part of their life. How loving someone who does extreme sports means accepting the potential consequences. That a person shouldn't change who they are for the sake of those around them and those who live life on the edge experience it in a way that can't be appreciated from a safe vantage point. Lots of crap like that.

You see, I don't agree. I'm not criticizing those who make that choice. If you want to pursue adventures that have a serious risk of death, that's a choice you are free to make. I won't say it's wrong for you or a mistake. I'll gladly support my friends who run harder drops and venture further into the void, all the while knowing I'll miss them terribly if something goes wrong. But I won't hold their choice up as superior, I won't acknowledge that it's a necessity and I won't credit them for a life worth more than my own. It's a choice, we all make them, and sometimes what's right for us is not right for others, and sometimes we make a choice we think is right when it probably isn't. I strive to make my choices deliberately and with care, knowing what they might mean for me and weighing what they mean for those around me.

I've chosen to step back. I don't need to justify that to anyone else, and justification is not what I seek. I seek understanding.

When I look at a hard drop, or consider a new run to push myself, I no longer feel the excitement of the challenge. My life isn't focused on testing myself in sport and proving to myself that I can master what it takes. And that's what drew me to kayaking, whitewater in particular - the difficulty. I've always wanted to test myself and succeed, to conquer what originally limited me. The risk was a necessary side effect, but never a goal. It's not something I'll miss.

These days I have plenty of challenges in other aspects of my life. Writing is hard, in a way that you can't know if you don't do it seriously, with more obstacles and rejection than I ever thought I could face. The joy I find in improving my craft matches anything I've ever felt in a boat. Being married, planning a family, contributing to my local community, and building a life centered around others all are new and revelatory challenges, eclipsing the importance of becoming a better kayaker.

Other people kayak for different reasons; they push themselves because they feel an inner need and take away something different than I do. Their motivation is not the same as mine and their choices need to reflect their own rewards. Some of them will play it safe and still face tragedy, some will choose poorly and never face the consequences. Life can be arbitrary and harsh or random and lucky. All we can do - all we should do - is make the choices that are right in the moment and learn and grow from them without regret.

When I was a full time kayak instructor many of my students would tell me I was living the dream: getting paid to do what I was passionate about, working in beautiful settings among people having fun. I took the compliment but never agreed. I was living a life, with good moments and bad, fun times and hard work, and I enjoyed it immensely. But it wasn't a dream. It was a choice I made, a life just like anyone else's. Nowadays I live the life of many: I go to work in an office, I try to play a little on the weekend, I worry about car payments and retirement funds. This feels like a dream - a grand a glorious dream where my happiness exceeds what I thought was possible. And I don't want to wake up.

That's why I stepped back. Not out of fear, not out of a sense of responsibility or any pressure to become an adult. I simply don't want to do anything that might cut short the beautiful life I now have, or somehow hurt the one person who makes this all possible for me. I'm still being just as selfish as always, but I manage to see it from a wider perspective.

I'm glad there are people out there living on the edge. I like to know that others can experience the same joy I do, whether they find it on a waterfall's lip, a high mountaintop, or watching a little league game. I am no less passionate about kayaking, but my passion derives from a different source. It comes from seeing others develop and grow as paddlers, helping them overcome their fear or limitations. It comes from sharing the quiet and solitude of the wilderness with people I care deeply about. It comes from having nothing left to prove.

I like the view from my seat, safely buckled into the minivan of life. But don't be surprised if I still manage to get some dirt on the paint, or get a flat in the middle of nowhere. And I look forward to running into you all wherever our paths may cross, whatever vehicle you're in. So go paddle, take a risk, and know that all of life is an adventure that should be experienced to the fullest.

A Paddler's Journey: Book Update #2

Well, it's been a while since I've said anything about the book (read this post for full details on the project). But that doesn't mean I haven't been working on it (though, to be honest, I've been working on a lot of other things so this project has gotten less attention than I had hoped to give it). There was a break after completing the first draft because I sent it out to some folks to beta read and give me some feedback. Mostly to those who were in the book, so they could let me know if I got any facts wrong.

I'm happy to say that my memory was (mostly) accurate and the responses I got were quite positive. Based on their feedback, and my own sense of what I want to accomplish, I decided that I needed to include a little more personal information to thread my life story into the paddling stories, being careful to keep the focus on the paddling and the universal lessons that we all learn from the sport.

Well, I've now completed that revision and I'm pretty happy with where I ended up. There's definitely a little bit more of me on the pages, but I didn't really add a lot of content and it still has an easy-reading feel to it. Here's an example of a bit of that self-reflection, from immediately after my solo circumnavigation of Moresby Island (video here).

A Paddler's Journey - excerpt.

At the end of every day I was alone, with no one to share what I saw, no one to appreciate where I’d been. My accomplishment held little meaning of its own—this wasn’t a race; I couldn’t win. While I had enjoyed myself in the moment, I hadn’t gotten anywhere, ending in the same place I began. I needed something more than paddling in my life.

The long road home gave me time to realize my life was already filled with something special: people. People who let me use their cabin for as long as I wanted, friends who’d do anything to help me on the river, strangers who passed along their experiences for my benefit. Through kayaking I had met wonderful people of all stripes and sizes, old and young, hardcore and soft. Maybe I wasn’t a loner, not cut out for solo missions. Maybe I needed to focus less on the paddling and more on the company. Kayaking had opened my eyes, but it was time to see life through a new filter: friendship.

*

Now I've got to let it sit for a bit and give it a full read through with a clear head. Then I'll show it to some new folks to see if it's working. Hopefully it will just need a few tweaks and be ready to publish after that.

If anyone out there is interested in giving it a read, let me know. Just leave your info in the comments with an email address and I'll be in touch. Thanks!

A Paddler's Journey - book update

A little while ago I announced my new book project (post here). The title is A PADDLER'S JOURNEY and it's a collection of paddling stories that chronicles my progression through the sport while also showing how I grew as a person because of it. The writing's going well and I've finished about ten chapters, each a slice of my paddling career. It's been a lot of fun going back to relive past events and really think about what I've learned and how I've changed.

As a writer, I'm always a little hesitant to share a rough draft. Things can change a lot between the first time you jot something down and when it all comes together in a final version. There's lot of editing left to do, cleaning the grammar and constructions, weaving themes throughout the whole, that ultimately leads to a better reading experience. But this blog has always been more about me sharing my thoughts than polishing and editing the text. So I figure I can share a little bit as I go and hopefully people will enjoy the ideas and recognize that the book will have the polish you have the right to expect.

I'll post updates and excerpts as I can and I'd love to hear what people think and get some feedback on what works and what doesn't. Do people want carnage stories? Humor? Graphic details or philosophical ramblings? I'd like to think it will have a bit of everything and please hard-core paddlers and interest those who've never been in a boat. Here's a taste from the opening chapter:

A Paddler's Journey - Chapter 1 Excerpt

In the distorted memory of childhood, I see a giant flotilla of canoes stretching endlessly down the grand waterway. An honest reckoning would be more like twenty canoes scattered along several miles of a peaceful stream. Whatever the count, we passed many and found ourselves near the front of the pack. The odd thing is, by that time I no longer worried about winning. The joy of paddling had taken over.

The splash of the water, the rhythm of the strokes, the cool breeze bringing scents of milkweed and wild sage, combined to sooth my spirit and erase any thoughts of competition. It wasn’t merely the happiness of being out on the water with friends and family, but also a delight in the skill, the sense of knowing how to do something and doing it well, making a connection with the water and using its power instead of fighting it. My family worked as a team and not everyone else did. We possessed something special and had earned it through our experience. I didn’t have the maturity to understand and express such thoughts, but they existed within me. That’s what made me happy.

At the top of the biggest rapid, my dad pulled us into an eddy to wait for the trailing boats. I didn’t complain. The race was over; we had already won. It wasn’t about coming in first but about being paddlers. And paddlers watch out for each other. We sat there and enjoyed the moment, I waved to the kids going past, and my dad gave advice to the adults. Hot dogs and potato salad waited downstream, but they could wait.

When the last stragglers approached the rapid, we started down with them. It was a shallow, rocky affair, with swift current that pushed boats towards the outside of the bend. As any boater knows, you need to keep the nose pointed downstream and stay to the deepest water. Even such a simple plan was beyond the capabilities of these neophytes, and in short order one of the other canoes broached sideways, bouncing unevenly over the river’s bed and doomed to be pinned on the rocks ahead.

My dad called forward paddle and I dug in with all the strength my slight frame possessed. We quickly caught up and my brother grabbed their bow, pulling it downstream with us. I turned to watch with a mixture of understanding and awe as my dad leaned all his weight onto his paddle to keep us straight, and our momentum swung the other boat into line. Side by side we floated until I sliced my blade in and let the water separate us. With room to steer, we both avoided the rocks and made it safely to the bottom of the rapid. 

Instead of savoring our heroics, my dad steered us towards an empty canoe floating down the river with a father and daughter swimming nearby. They must have flipped with no one around to save them. Once again we charged in with deft strokes to reach the pair quickly. My brother heaved the girl into our boat while my dad and I steered. The man in the water hung on to our stern as we chased down their wayward boat and bulldozed it to shore. I leapt to the grassy bank and grabbed the empty boat while the swimmer caught his breath. My dad smiled at me and I glowed with pride.

Time spent draining the boat and sorting out its passengers allowed everyone to pass us by. We started last and finished last. No one else noticed; nor did they say who came in first, or even talk as if a race took place. Yet I still felt like a winner as I ran around the park, slurping sodas and devouring watermelon. To this day I feel compelled to help everyone get ready before we launch. I lift the boats for those who might have difficulty on their own. I work out the shuttle logistics, just so we get on water a little faster. I learned more than the joy of paddling that from my dad that day. Much more.   

*

This is from the first chapter, my career on the water starting in a canoe. Makes me want to grab a single-blade and hunk of Royalex and head up-river through the Redwoods. I hope it inspires others to get out there and enjoy the magnificent world. Maybe take your kids with you if you go :)

Book Project: A Paddler's Journey

Those who know me know that outside of kayaking my passion is writing. I've been working on a couple of novels for the past few years and I'm in the process of shopping them around for publication. (I write fiction under the name Blair B. Burke). I've long had the idea to combine my two passions and write a book that involves kayaking, but there are several reasons why I've hesitated.

First, there isn't much of a market. Kayaking is a small world, relatively. It's also a very specific world. It's hard to find something that appeals to kayakers and to the general public. So making much money off a kayaking book is unlikely.

I'm not famous. Fame helps with making money. It gets publishers interested in you and gives you a podium from which to announce your book for sale. While I am quite happy that there are people out there who read this blog, and plenty of them by my reckoning, I don't really have a large reach when you look at the large scale necessary to make print runs profitable.

I'm not that special. OK, my mom would argue differently. But my story is not unique. I haven't suffered a life-threatening injury. Kayaking hasn't saved me from a life on the streets. I didn't emigrate from Mozambique and become a professional kayaker. I'm a middle class white kid who grew up in Minnesota and learned to kayak in California. I haven't done any record setting trips and I don't paddle the gnar - I've never had much interest in doing either.

Writing a book is hard. It's not that I'm afraid of the work - I've done it three times now and I enjoy it immensely. But to do it well takes time and effort. I need to spend those commodities on things that may have a return on the investment. Basically, I need to make money like everyone else.

But right now I'm in between other projects. One novel is out on submission. I'm waiting until it sells to begin the sequel. Another novel is out with test readers to provide feedback for editing. Again, it's a waiting game on that. So I've decided to begin writing a kayaking book.

One of my recent journeys

Since I don't expect to make money I get to write the book I want, without worrying about market considerations. So I'm going to tell my story. I want to write about my journey from a newbie kayaker in a sit on top off the coast of Southern California to becoming a professional instructor and class V whitewater kayaker. I plan to share the interesting stories that always come up when a group of paddlers are sitting around the campfire. Epic trips like the Rubicon and Channel Islands, scary stories like my swim on Royal Flush on the Kern. Fun times like winning the Kayak Polo National Championships.

While I've written up a lot of these trips for this blog, I aim to include a little more. What I want to share is not just the fun kayaking stories that we all like to tell. I want to share what the experiences really meant to me, what I've learned from them. The last fifteen years of my life has centered around kayaking and it's had a profound impact on who I am. Again, that's not unique. I'm actually counting on the fact that other people have had a similar experience in this sport. Maybe their journey was different than mine, but kayaking has taken a lot of people to places they never thought they'd go. I want to share my trip with the thought that others will recognize their own in the themes it contains.

So over the next few months I'll be sharing my progress. I'll post some excerpts as the stories develop. At the end of it all, I'll be putting out a book in both electronic and print formats. Hopefully you'll want to check it out. If not, I'll keep blogging anyway.

Kayak Polo - U.S. National Championships

I used to play kayak polo rather seriously. In fact, it pretty much became the only paddling I did. That was back in 2006 when I was on the U.S. National Team and preparing for the World Championships. It was at those championships that I hurt my shoulder and after which I decided to retire. I also moved to a location that didn't have any kayak polo so giving up the game was a de facto necessity as much as a choice. But every once in a while I find a good reason to come out of retirement and play a little polo.

This year San Francisco hosted the National Championships for the first time. It's close enough to make it a long weekend trip without a lot of expense. I knew I was going to go but wasn't sure who I would end up playing with. I starting training (a little) and doing some boat repair (a lot). I wasn't sure what to expect.

The weekend started on Friday with a one day 'Open' tournament. The Championship is for U.S. clubs and there are rules that govern who can play (have to be living in the U.S.) and how teams can be formed (you can't form an all-star team from different cities). That's as it should be, but it's a shame to waste a chance to play high level polo when the best players in the country are all going to be in the same place. Not to mention some of the best players from Canada who come down looking for some good competition. So the Open division is designed to allow any teams to enter. This year there were four teams: the U.S. National team; a Canadian all-star team; a New York squad who all just flew out a day early for some extra California sun; and a mixed team of former and current U.S. Squad members (that would include me).

My Open team had some experience going for it and we also had some youth on our side. But we didn't have any subs and we had never played together. I hadn't even met one of the guys before we suited up. And we started against the Canadians who we all expected to be the top team. But it turned out that we won the game. Rather handily. Won the next one, too. We ended up winning the whole division by playing some great team polo. It was great to find a group that worked so well together without a lot of time or practice. No drama or fighting, no one hogging the spotlight or trying to be the big man. Just good, honest teamwork. It was one of the funnest days of polo I've had and the result was just the icing on the cake.

The next day was the start of the club championships and it was a completely different team and different competition. I would once again be representing the UCLA club that I had been a member of when it was first formed back in 2001. Even though I no longer lived anywhere close, without a local team I was allowed to play with my old club under the tournament rules. Many of my previous teammates were still around so we tried to put the band back together. We couldn't get all of the old guard but instead recruited some new blood. Always a good thing in the long run but it creates some doubts for the present. Can we gel in time? Are the newbies over their heads? Are the old timers just plain old? I really wasn't sure how it would go.

This time we started against New York who had some strong players but wasn't expected to be challenging for the title. We planned on keeping things simple and played conservatively as the new guys who hadn't played in the Open division got their legs under them (so to speak). We came out with a win and were feeling pretty good. It didn't last long. Our second game was against Austin, the two-time defending champs, and they thrashed us pretty good. Our lack of experience together and some fitness issues were evident. But the most important thing was that we stayed tight as a team. Everyone took responsibilities for their mistakes (we all made them) and everyone was supportive of each other as we got ready for our next game.

UCLA Men (l to r): Me, Ge, Danny, Patrick, Rob

The Canadians were next. The same team that had finished second in the Open division, but with the addition of another strong player. We just wanted to play a good game but didn't have any high expectations. But that teamwork vibe that brought us together after our loss now held us together during the game. Facing younger, stronger, more skilled players we worked together to hold them off and fought them to a tie. It would turn out to be the only game they didn't win in the tournament.

We had one more loss, then one more win and one more tie. At the end of the round robin play we were tied with Carolina for third - only the top three advanced and Carolina had the advantage over us in goal differential so they moved on while we were done. Once again, UCLA finished off the podium. But I have to say that I was very happy with the tournament. While the result in the Club division didn't match that of the Open, the fun was in the attempt. We played as a team, we played good polo, we did as well as could be expected against strong competition. It was the tightest Nationals I've been at and we were right in the mix. That's all you can ask for and it's enough for me.

Now that it's all over, I'm back to being a retired kayak polo player. My shoulder survived the weekend but it didn't enjoy it at all. My recent move has also put me even further from any club to play with. So I'll go back to the ocean and the rivers. But I'll keep the polo gear clean and ready for the next occasion that pulls me back in.

And congratulations to all the winners at the U.S. Kayak Polo National Championships:
Open: USA 1 (my team)
Club A: Austin Aquabats
Women: Unstoppable Unicorns (mostly California girls)
Club B: Bat Shot Crazy (I think from Texas)

If you have no idea what kayak polo is like, this is a little introductory video:


And here's some action from the 2009 U.S. National Championships:

Vacations

What is a vacation when you paddle for a living? When life's an adventure, how do you take time off? Well, thanks to the wonders of technology I am on vacation while this post is being loaded. I'm sure I'm having a good time, but I wanted to share a thought in my absence. Kayaking is not a vacation.

Kayaking is an activity. You can do it while on vacation. It can be the reason you go to your vacation destination. It can even be the focal point of all your time off. But time off from what? That's what makes a vacation. It's a break, stepping away from the everyday and doing something different. It's free from responsibilities and its purpose is enjoyment.

Kayaking can certainly fit into that description and I've taken many a kayaking vacations. This time I'm mostly going to be on terra firma (though maybe a couple rivers will get run). The important thing is that I'm stepping away from teaching, stepping away from looking after other people, and doing what I want.

People often say that it must be nice to have a job (teaching kayaking) that's like a vacation every day. They don't understand that learning to kayak is like a vacation but teaching is work. It's fun and rewarding, often in a beautiful place and definitely with good people. But it's still a job. And jobs require a vacation - a chance to recharge and get a new perspective. A chance to leave aside the ordinary (even if your ordinary is someone's extraordinary) and change things up. So that's why I'm on vacation. I look forward to coming back fresh and excited and with a world of changes for my future.

In the mean time, enjoy some early Paddle California kayak porn:

Back in the saddle

I officially retired from playing kayak polo after the world championships back in '06. Since then I have played occasionally - random tournaments or visits back down to LA where my old club still plays. But those occasions have been getting less frequent and I honestly don't remember the last time I played hard polo with a group of experienced players. But yesterday the guys in the San Francisco club were having a one-day training camp to get ready for Nationals next month. They needed some extra bodies to scrimmage against and they asked me to drive down for the day to play with them. While not my club, there is no other club that I have spent more time with in the polo world - from playing against them for years in local comps or playing with most of them on the national team. So I rinsed the cobwebs out of my boat, patched up one of my broken paddles and headed out for a long day of polo in the sun.

The good news is that I can still play. I wasn't as sharp as I used to be - my aim was a little off, my reactions a little slow - but I felt like I kept up with the guys just fine. The not so good news is that fitness is a very specific thing. I've mostly been paddling rivers lately, with the one exception being my Lost Coast trip, and I've been biking and working out. So I feel quite strong. But polo is a different beast - it involves lots of quick sprints, constant maneuvering and fighting hard for position. During the warm up I hurt my elbow blocking a shot on goal - just a super stiff paddle transferring the shock of impact to my joint. Before long my forearms were pumped from gripping the paddle so hard (a light, easy grip doesn't work in this sport). By the end of the day most of my body was sore and I barely stayed awake for the lat night drive home.

But the day was really fun. I do miss the camaraderie of playing on a team. With the SF guys it's like an old family out there - everyone knows each other a little too well; there's lots of jokes at each others' expense and there's some bickering and complaining, but mostly we just get on with it. Kayaking is largely an indiviualistic sport even if you don't normally do it alone. But when you're part of a team it completely changes the dynamic of you and your boat. It's something more paddlers should experience.

No pictures or video from the day - we didn't have any extra bodies to shoot it. But here's a clip the Nationals a couple years back for those who don't know what the heck I'm talking about:

green with envy?

I was down in SoCal this past week for a couple showings of the video and I stopped by the kayak polo session at UCLA. The games are at night at a pool with relatively poor lighting - visitors always complain they can't see the ball. Once you get used to it it's really not so bad - but I didn't know if video would work. So I decided to test the new HD Sony I have - special low light function, full on night mode and even super slow motion. The results are actually pretty good and if it works this well in the dark it should handle the shadows of the river canyons without a problem (hopefully I'll get out on some whitewater next week now that I'm back in Folsom).

Enjoy the playing in the dark:

Time for the Show

The DVD's are here in hand (and available for ordering) and I've got some screenings scheduled and am working on more. The world premier of Paddle California will be at California Canoe & Kayak in Sacramento on Friday, Jan. 22 @ 7pm. Then I have a showing down in Half Moon Bay on the 24th and at CCK Oakland on the 29th. After that I head to the Pacific Northwest for some screenings (and paddling) before coming back home for the Golden Gate Sea Kayak Symposium. Then hopefully down to SoCal for some more shows and then several ACA courses in March. Looks like the year is filling up quickly.

I am very happy with how the DVD turned out and I'm really excited to share it with everyone. I'm expecting lots of friends who I know will be supportive (as they have been for the whole project) but I'm really curious as to how the general public will take to my little project. I have seen the footage so many times in editing that I no longer have a good perspective on what people will think seeing it for the first time. The response to the trailer (see below) has been good and I think it's a fairly accurate representation of the video as a whole.

Oh - I also got in a little paddling before the never ending series of storms starts tomorrow. Yesterday I dusted off my polo boat for a workout on the lake and today I hit Folsom Lake with a couple friends. Isn't that what's so great about boating - river, lake, ocean, flatwater, class V, exercise, relaxation - it's all good.

And now your feature presentation...

So I've finished the editing and sent the master off for duplication. Paddle California the DVD is a reality. The video contains over an hour of paddling featuring some of the best locations in the state: Mendocino, Middle Feather, Kern, Channel Island, Lake Tahoe and the US Kayak Polo National Championships. The focus is on the beauty of our state and the places that paddling can take us.

I'm in the process of setting up screenings at various locations throughout the state - the first will be at CCK in Sacramento on Friday, Jan. 22. I'll post a complete list when I get more dates nailed down.

Shortly there will also be a link to order the DVD over the internet. But in the meantime here is the trailer for the movie. Enjoy:

Kayak Polo Nationals

Last weekend was the U.S. Kayak Polo National Championships hosted by my old club down in L.A. I went back to play with the team one more time with the goal of medaling this time after several fourth place finishes in the last few years. There were eight teams in the A division but only four of them were actually U.S. club teams so our odds were pretty good.

Since I now live in Folsom there was no way to really get the team together for practice. And most of our guys are getting a little old in the tooth. So our rusty group had a few challenges to overcome. We started off with a victory over the Ft. Collins club - they were even rustier than us. Then we tied the defending champs - a great result for us. Then another tie with a Canadian team before heading into the second round robin. Our next game was the key to get into the top tier for the tournament but we lost to a random assortment of folks by one goal. Then we lost to the Canadian national team by one goal (they ended up winning the tournament) and finally lost by one goal to the east coast guys. While we got dropped down to the bottom bracket for the tournament in the end we ended up playing the Ft. Collins team once again for third place out of the U.S. clubs and we won. So we got our medals but definitely a frustrating tournament for results. Maybe next year?

More pictures and video below: