Kayaking Journal – 04/24/05 – The Ledges, between Lehigh Gap and Walnutport, PA

The weather did not look promising when I got up in the early morning. I called the leader, Nick, and hoped that I could fish out a message – the trip is cancelled – from him so that I could return to my warm blanket and finish my dreams without feeling guilty. Apparently Nick is more of a die-hard kayaker than I am – from the other end of the phone he sounded a little bit disappointed, “If you have decided to stay home, it is fine, but I’m definitely going.” I hang up the phone and rushed out, wondering whether I might welcome a storm on the river.

Jane and Bill were there when Nick and I reached the meeting spot. We looked at each other, and it seemed that each of us put on whatever clothes were at hand to keep our bodies warm and hopefully the clothing we had would be sufficient to fight the water-cold. “What a day,” I crossed my fingers.

The trip did not disappoint us, on the contrary it became the most fascinating trip since the season began. After several sessions of fast water, smooth water, and waves, we turned our boats around at a playing area, where we practiced our ferry, eddy hopping, and attainments. I struggled on fighting the water flow and eventually I reached the rock upstream, I therefore proudly reversed the boat and drifted downstream, enjoying my victory. It was nice to daydream until I was distracted by Bill, “Look! It’s an osprey.” The osprey was beautiful, and I could not stop staring at it while it glided so perfectly. Suddenly this elegant creature dropped in the water with a speed about ten times faster than pouring rain. It then grabbed a fish with its claws, and the fighting between the fish and the osprey made them water-ski across almost half of the river. It all happened so fast, faster than our minds could possibly process. We were stunned and watched another fish become the osprey’s game. “Isn’t it something?” Jane commented. It is something, indeed.

Later in the trip, we passed through several drops and reached the point where the next climax of the day took place. That spot was a perfect location for surfing, so how could we miss the chance? I did not quite understand exactly what I needed to do. All I knew about surfing is moving your boat to a certain place where water circulates within a fixed range which allows you to stay there without paddling. However, how to find that sweet spot remains unknown to me. People say that I need to “sense it” and “trust my feelings,” and all those “hints” just ensure that surfing is a tricky business.

I tried to extract some useful movements by observing. It seemed that Bill and Nick started by charging the water as a moose, and magically they trapped themselves in a rolling wave. They found their sweet spots therefore their boats only moved vertically, not any other directions. “Huh, that should just take a little bit of courage,” I wondered, and started to charge the water as if I were a bull aiming at the red. However, I didn’t know where to stop, or I was just so into charging. I passed a little wave and another bigger one and was approaching the biggest one; suddenly the force of water turned my boat sideways. I could see the wave was ready to swallow me, and before the water even got a chance to hit me, my fear hit me really hard. I worked so hard trying to turn my boat straight, no effect. At least I still held my paddle really tight; I knew that I couldn’t lose my paddle but what could I do with it if I was holding it with just one hand? The only thing I could do was lean my boat and constantly tap the water surface with my free hand, and I survived without tipping over. Oh, my goodness. Isn’t it something?

My kayaking fellows described to me that they saw my boat being brought up by the river really high, and they were all ready to rescue me. Bill said “don’t use your hand to brace; use your paddle!” I wish I could have used my paddle but I was totally out of control and that was when I called it a day.