Last weekend, my son, David, and I went to Charlotte, NC, to play at the USNWC. We checked out all the ways to play and then scouted the kayak layout, the whole 0.8 mile circumference. (Not very big.) We noticed the eddies along the concrete shoreline were pretty powerful, with fairly quick upstream current. And, we noticed the hole at the bottom of the largest drop on the more difficult route (pictured above), which was near the bottom of that route. And, we thought, interesting. Let's go play.
The USNWC is a great playground. You can mountain bike, climb walls, ride down a 1200 foot zip line, ride the white water in a rubber raft, and kayak if you have your own equipment. They have various pricing alternatives, to fit what you want to do. If you bring your own bike, and do nothing else, the cost is only the $5.00 parking fee per vehicle. If you have your own kayak and want to do everything, the cost is $69 per person, plus the parking fee.
I awakened that day a bit under the weather. No, quite a bit under the weather. But after the long drive, I was going anyway. By the time they opened the white water, we chose to paddle first, and later decide what else we wanted to do. We only kayaked.
Upon checking in, they warned us about the center having "powerful" eddies. Since we had noticed them when we scouted we thought we understood. We did not fully understand.
There are 2 primary routes, easier on the left, and harder on the right. Along the left you also have a choice of a short detour that is a bit tougher.
We decided to progress from the easiest to the hardest in the first 3 runs. The first run was mostly uneventful. However, being under the weather, I felt very tippy and uneasy. Okay, I chose to deal with it, and go on.
On the 2nd trip we decided to take the short detour that was a bit harder. I led and went through most the rapids, turning around to watch David before going through the exit drop. That was dumb. Bingo, I was upside down. I thought, no problem, which shoulder is forward? It was my left so I proceeded to set up to roll on that side. No doing, I could not get my hands anywhere close to the surface. So I switched underwater to the other side and stretched to set up. Again no doing. I was being pulled down as well as back and forth in the current and eddies. I had not experienced that before. I was bumping around and bashing my helmut on a few rocks. So, I must have been moving, not stuck in a hole. So, I switched back to the other side for a "successful" left-handed roll. I was not to be denied. The set-up was marginal, but I went for it. Up I came. And when I was nearly flat again, a new gremlin in the water grabbed the left rear of my kayak and pulled my back under. That was enough for this old fart. I was in a small, man-made concrete circle, why push it? So, I wet exited to empty the kayak, get a brief rest, and go again.
"Not so fast", the water said to me. "We aren't done with you." I could not get into an eddy, and I was careening down stream, feeling hell-bent for something I did not choose. Alas, a raft guide brought his craft and his personal skills to my aid. (This guide acted a lot differently here at USNWC than the ones we encounter on many of the natural rivers.) He grabbed the kayak while simultaneously keeping his raft in an eddy. Hanging onto the raft, I was able to pull myself along his perimeter lines until I too, was in the eddy. With some great effort he got more than half the water out of the kayak, and returned it to me. Now I could get to shore and deal with an unfriendly concrete shoreline, empty the boat, take a rest and go one. I found David, waiting below the next drop, and we agreed he'd finish the run without me, ride the conveyor belt, and I might be ready to go upon his return.
After finishing the run, I remembered a critique from Ben Lawry. I, too often, was coasting and not paddling in rapids, as I often felt no need to. So, Ben's advice had come screaming back to me. We made several more runs as I paddled through the current, and nothing else even bothered me. If it fits you, too. Paddle on, Dude. Paddle on.
David's subsequent runs were not so uneventful, but that's another story.
No comments:
Post a Comment