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| 10 Foot on Wilson Creek. One of many interesting Class IVs in the gorge. |
I had a truly amazing paddle on Wilson Creek the other day. Wilson is a breath taking, boulder strewn, Class IV, designated National Wild and Scenic River. I had the pleasure of paddling with and meeting folks on this southeastern classic, who's energy and attitudes seemed to reflect the beauty and fluidity of the landscape (and maybe i should add, "waterscape") we were exploring. Trips like this offer up ample opportunities for growth in many, many ways as long as we are open and receptive. ...really this is true even as we just wander through our day, wherever we may be. Anywho, one thing that i came home with to contemplate was, humility. ...It comes in many forms and fashions and as an outdoor educator, guide and instructor it is part of the everyday for both myself, as well as clients. The great outdoors can offer up plenty of opportunities to humble us :)
On this trip, i was paddling with one of the better boaters i've been on the water with in quite some time. Since I'm writing this spur of the moment, and i hadn't asked him how he might feel about being part of the subject matter of my post, i'll respectfully leave his name out and just refer to him as K. Well, as challenging as Wilson Creek can be, for a paddler of K's caliber, it wasn't a big deal. Now don't get me wrong, K isn't some hot head show off, strutting around talking about how easy everything is, in fact his demeanor is quite the opposite, he's mild mannered, not at all boastful, respectful of others and where they're "at" with their skills, a real natural leader, and instructor. To top this off, K is in his early 20s. His ease and comfort in the cockpit of his kayak as he skillfully maneuvers his boat through rock gardens, dropping over horizon lines, and essentially making everything "look" easy communicates volumes.
On our first lap down through the Wilson Creek Gorge, i was not having the best run. I was getting a bit frustrated with myself, i was too tense, my lines weren't clean on many of the drops, and i had to utilize my roll more than once. However, at the take-out, despite some of my personal challenges and a bit of lingering frustration, i did feel OK about the run. So, we cruised back up to the put-in for lap 2. Once on the water this time, instantly things were feeling better, all of the issues i was having before evaporated. I was feeling fluid in my motions and at one with the boat. It was a run that i felt i could do no wrong (except a nice piton at Thunder Hole :) While my run, from a personal perspective, ended up being a great one, K, on the other hand, ended up swimming from a capsize in one of the less grandiose rapids on the gorge.
When this happened i was looking down stream, just over the horizon of some rocks, and saw the hull of K's boat, he was upside down, and just upstream of some decent little drops. I began moving into position to set up for any assist that might need to take place. As i was moving, and my view of things was changing, i got a second glimpse of the hull of his boat AND his helmet at the same time. He was out of his boat. "What the fuck's going on?" immediately sprang to my mind. K was by and far the superior boater of our group... like, way superior. I did what i needed to, got to a good spot, climbed out of my boat with my throw bag and made my way out to a good vantage point to toss a line or move in for a shoreline grab if needed. At this point K had climbed up on a rock, and was wrestling with a boat full of water trying to angle it to drain it out. As i moved closer i could see that he was OK, and in decent positioning to manage things for himself. I asked him if he was OK, he was scowling and began a short series of self-deprecating statements that never got fully verbalized. Some of the words i heard were "I can't believe...," "...inconsequential Class III...," dammit!" All a very understandable response given who he was and the circumstances.
Eventually, we got ourselves all situated, back into boats, chatted a minute about the mechanics of what took place, did a quick check in to make sure everyone was good-to-go, and then continued down river. Once in motion, K was right back on track being the exceptional paddler he is, moving through every challenging obstacle with ease and grace. I don't think K tried to defend his swim even once, or bring it up at all, with the exception of us prompting him. ...and asking him when he was going to fill up his bootie ;)
By the time we reached the take out, i had run through a lot in my mind. I realized that while my "What the fuck's going on" thought was reasonable, K's swim shouldn't have been a surprise to me. While, i'm not attempting to place myself in the same paddling league as K, i also have had my fair share of unexpected swims. Having witnessed his process took me through various interesting threads of thought. One thread of thought being, this was a great reminder of the old paddlers adage "We're all between swims." This adage lead me to the more over-arching saying, "You never know what might happen," words i typically try and live by as a guide/instructor. And then thinking about these "truths," as a guide, instructor, or just simply an outdoorsy person, every moment on the water or in the woods, we should be prepared to allow for humility to be present. (And really, for many more reasons than i have waxed on about here.)
I have not yet said this to K, but I have often been in similar situations (unintentional swims being one of those). From an observers perspective, K handled himself beautifully in this scenario. With his swim he allowed for himself to vent a bit in the moment (a natural and good thing to do :) but did not let his venting take over. He took stock of his situation, knew he was OK, and took care of business to get himself back in his boat, and continue down river. As the most skilled paddler of the group, the way he handled this had great potential to effect the rest of the group he was paddling with. And at the end of the run he was even able to smile and laugh some about the situation.
To add to all this processing i had going on, after we had pulled off the water we got to chatting with some fellow paddlers that we had been with, and met briefly on the river. I struck up conversation with the oldest of the group and he introduced himself as Dennis Huntley. I would guess Dennis was in his late 60s-early 70s. Sensing this guy was a skilled veteran of the outdoors, I kept up sort of a barage of questions to get him talking about his paddling exploits to which he was only mildly responsive. Eventually, i asked him if he had any first ascents or decents (climbing or paddling), at which point he looked at me and said, "I don't care much for that." Meaning he didn't really like keeping track of such things. With more prodding, i finally got him to reluctantly and briefly talk about a few of his descents of rivers and creeks well before those same bodies of water had "recorded" 1st descents mentioned in various books. The one that really stuck in my mind was Linville Gorge ...anyway, it quickly dawned on me that i was in the presence of a true pioneer, yet for him it just was, what it was. His desires were to be outside, be on the river and be with friends. ...As things should be. I am thankful for the opportunity that i had to be out on the water,
as brief as it was, with such humble and amazing paddlers, and there was an added beauty to it since they are each within the generation on either side of myself.
As we were parting ways another person in Dennis' his paddling party asked if he had told us about his hike out from Wilson Creek way back in the day. The quick telling of the story revealed that Huntley's Retreat, a rapid on Wilson Creek was named after Dennis, Dennis Huntley, during an extremely high water event. I'll share his tale another day.
