It's all to do with the training: you can do a lot if you're properly trained. - Elizabeth II
All of Utah's rivers are fed by snow capped mountains that line the state primarily from the north and south. Depending on the year a river may have ice on it until April or even May. This makes learning a new sport on the water an extra challenge considering that many Utah rivers can't compete in size or flow with the rivers of most other states.
It was somewhere in March or April with my boat tied on to the Xterra with tie-downs and my girlfriend in the passenger seat to act as shuttle I headed out for my very first kayaking trip to the banks of the lower Provo River. Much of the year this river runs low enough in many spots that a visitor could easily cross it's banks by foot. Some portions pool into short deep sections before the river bends and turns. There are very few areas on the bottom section where the water is forced to rush and move.
It was with this reassurance that I pushed off on my maiden voyage, my pulse racing with a body of enthusiasm much like a child. After all I had waited years for this, dreamed and forgotten many times the wonder of floating off on some body of water and here I was, small and well known, but an adventure none the less.
Spending just a second evaluating the picture above, taken while practicing briefly on still water that day before heading to the river, one can note several key problems with the decisions made on this first trip. Perhaps first might be the emergency paddle in hand - purchased on the way - that does not have duel paddles. Second could easily be the blue jeans, or just as likely the cotton hoodie. Third or fourth on the list, although they can't be seen would be the additional cotton layers underneath providing warmth. Fifth would be the obviously lacking spray skirt that hadn't yet been purchased.
The first several bends were easy on the wide river and I had almost decided to congratulate myself on the wiseness contained within when a tight right hand turn approached. My little boat seemed long out there and the water current suddenly picked up, I struggled to move out of the current driving into the bank around the corner. For a second the boat stalled before the inward motion grabbed it back into it's grasp. I washed around the corner, avoiding the bank where the current pounded, by spinning out as the stream made sense of the waters movements.
There it was I thought with sweaty palms, I survived the unexpected without going over. That decision must have let me relax as I progressed passed the next few turns. It was there, somewhere around the half way marker, that I heard a thundering sound of water. What was it? Had I missed something in my scouting? As I rounded the turn I could see the spray of water crashing just a few feet down into the water, probably from an irrigation canal feeding the surrounding farmlands. It wasn't really a lot, but enough to scare me while moving....a strange feeling for any level of rider.
I didn't crash, or uproot out of the boat as I passed, but I was certainly feeling my heart pound under the life vest. It was just as I passed successfully by the confluence that I noticed the strainer overhanging the entire width of the river. My research at this point hadn't covered river obstacles or techniques to overcome them. Being my fist time on moving water I doubt it would have helped much. Equally unknown was any meaningful re-entry technique that may have helped with what came next.
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