Feature article
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Flatwater trips can turn hectic
By Doug Janz
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| Johnson City writer Doug Janz writes for GoTriCities about outdoor adventures in the Tri-Cities and beyond |
Flatwater paddling trips are normally relaxing, maybe with a few moments of excitement, and I guess that was the case on a recent trip I took down a local river.
This assignment had overtones of extreme personal danger. I speak with complete sarcasm because it was an organized, guided trip, on a short run of river that was almost dead calm, and it came during dry-weather conditions so the water level was relatively low. In other words, I was going to have to work hard to move with any speed at all. Under the circumstances it would take a real effort to drown.
The trip was open to the public, and just before departure as I waited with two rangers who would lead our trip, we met the rest of our group — two busloads of 10-year-old girls.
This was both good and bad. Guides always want more paying customers, and it’s their nature to want to share the river with people, to let others experience and appreciate the outdoors. But then again, large groups of young kids are sometimes the most challenging to control. The peace and quiet of the trip had just largely disappeared.
Not that the girls did anything wrong; in fact, they were very good. They were simply being 10-year-old girls, and I think we all know what that can mean.
To begin with, we started about an hour behind schedule. One busload was scheduled to canoe, the other to go caving, and then they would switch activities.
The guides went over some of the basics as we stood by the water — how to put on the life jacket, how to hold the paddle, some basic rules about steering the canoe, what to do in case anybody fell in. Some of the girls seemed to grasp this advice, while others were confused. I sympathized, because sometimes you need to experience something to figure it out.
The first big crisis was who would sit in which canoe with whom, and this took a while to decide. Young girls can be picky about this kind of thing. The canoes were meant for two people to share each one, and many of the girls wanted to put three into a boat, the prevailing theory being that there’s strength in numbers.
About 10 or 15 minutes later the lineup was set, after some complaining and uncertainty, and finally we were all on the water.
I shared a canoe with a guide. The water was very gentle, but several paddlers were immediately confused, resulting in a repeat of the lessons just demonstrated onshore: Here’s how to hold the paddle; the person up front strokes and the person in the back steers.
I’m a slow learner, too, so I’m always patient, but it was a comical sight after a few minutes. No sooner had the guide given his quick demonstration to one boat than the next canoe would require the same help. Most girls looked like they were having fun, while a small handful appeared not to trust the notion of paddling.
Fortunately the water was so calm you could lie down in the canoe and let it drift, probably for five- or 10-minute stretches, and not run into any trouble. But there was trouble all around us anyway.
One canoe of two girls had discovered a way to paddle in small circles and couldn’t seem to break out of that pattern. We went closer to give them instructions as they went around and around, looking at us as if they had no command over the boat. Not far away, another canoe had managed to paddle its way right into the river bank and get stuck.
Two more girls were floating sideways, occasionally sticking their paddles in the water but doing little to control the boat’s direction.
We paddled quickly to each distressed canoe and the guide patiently reviewed the procedure again. Some still had trouble grasping it. Meanwhile, a few had figured things out and were pulling farther and farther away, distant specks downriver. Luckily they had a chaperone and another guide with them, and we had taken on the responsibility of riding sweep to make sure everyone at the back of the group made it through safely.
Whenever we assisted any of the girls, we then backed off a little and let them try to use the advice, work their way into a rhythm, and thus make progress. Making house calls can grow old, and they were getting tired of listening to us shout instructions. So we went back and forth, working a balance of helping them and staying out of their way.
The slower canoes were extremely slow. Most of the time we had to sit calmly and wait for them; any paddling on our part and we would leave them behind, particularly if it was a boat going in little circles. Another one was now entangled in tree branches along the shore.
The slowest canoe was manned by two sweet little girls who, after about 30 minutes, had pretty much had their fill of the river. One of them sat forlornly with her lower lip sticking out, staring ahead and refusing to paddle or speak to anyone.
On what was probably our sixth stop to assist them, requiring us to paddle back upstream to reach them, the guide and I finally realized the only solution was to split up and put one girl in a canoe with him, one girl in a canoe with me. Otherwise they might never get downstream.
This sped things up considerably. The girls seemed relieved that their responsibilities had been lifted and that their time on the water was nearing an end. I did what I could to make it seem fun, but I’m not sure if the little girl in the front of my canoe bought that notion. Her face finally lit up when we reached the takeout point and saw the rest of the group climbing on shore, swimming in the water and generally having a big time.
Even getting out of the boat was an adventure for some. A couple of canoes missed the takeout point, the girls staring at us as they drifted by aimlessly. Two more girls climbed out of the boat and into the water, headed for shore, and let the empty canoe float away.
This required roundup duty but eventually everyone made it out safely, most of them happy about the whole experience. That made it worthwhile, because many of them had started out almost afraid of the water, and a few miles downstream they were laughing and splashing -- masters of the river.
As we loaded canoes onto a truck, the chaperone told the girls they would be spending the afternoon in the nearby cave. I tried to picture whether it was more difficult to control this crowd on a slow, open river, or in the narrow, dark confines of a muddy cave.
Meanwhile, the other half of this girls’ group had just come out of the cave, ready to switch places and take on the river.
“Thanks for the trip,” I told the ranger. “Good luck.”
We looked at the girls and smiled. Maybe chuckled just a little.
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Johnson City writer Doug Janz writes for GoTriCities about outdoor adventures in the Tri-Cities and beyond. E-mail him at DouglasJanz@aol.com
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