Proposed Removal of Cuyahoga's Biggest Dam

The photo on the left shows the original Cuyahoga Falls, circa 1880, which are about a 25-foot drop now buried behind the abandoned dam you see on the right. The Gorge Dam has been recommended for removal by the Ohio EPA. Photo via KeelHaulers.org 

Ohio Environmental Protection Agency officials want to bring down the largest dam on the Cuyahoga River, but what to do with the concrete rubble and more than 800,000 cubic yards of contaminated sediment trapped behind it remain the two biggest obstacles to demolition.

EPA officials presented a study during a public meeting in Cuyahoga Falls outlining possible options for dredging the sediment, where to dispose of it and how much the demolition project would cost Thursday.

Removal of the dam itself and disposal of the associated rubble would cost about $12.3 million. Removal and disposal of the 832,000 cubic yards of sediment, enough to fill 38 football fields to a depth of 10 feet, would cost an estimated $57.4 million.

Read local news coverage of the meeting here:

Akron Beacon Journal

WKSU 89.7 FM

Cuyahoga Falls News Press

Removal of the abandoned dam would open up an incredible stretch of Class IV-V whitewater that would link two already popular sections of whitewater on the Cuyahoga, the Upper Gorge and Lower Gorge. The project would restore the river and create one of the most intense and accessible sections of whitewater in the Midwest by linking the three sections.

This photo from American Whitewater via AkronHistory.org shows a rapid now buried beneath the dam pool of the abandoned Gorge Dam.

This photo via the University of Akron archives shows the original Cuyahoga Falls, which are buried behind the 60-foot tall and 420-foot wide Gorge Dam.

Lower Yough Kayaking ...

Your author at Ohiopyle Falls on the Youghiogheny River in Pennsylvania.

 

I've struggled for weeks to try and write this trip report from the Lower Yough, when I hit it at release level (about 1.82 feet) with some friends on a beautiful June weekend.

We spent two incredible days on the river that included a full-length trip from put-in to takeout and two loop runs the next day.

My first run on Cucumber Rapid.

This trip was the culmination of two years of paddling preparation. Every eddy turn, peel out, ferry and boof I practiced over and over on familiar rivers prepared me for the paddling time of my life--so far. I had never experienced a river so wide with such velocity and so many options for lines. It was an unbelievable playground for someone just coming into their paddling skills.

The trip had everything. Thunder, lighting and torrential down pours. Blinding mist. Warm sunshine, bright blue skies and cool, clear water.

It was an unbelievable trip, and I can't wait to go back.

I think I've struggled to write about it because it was so full of fun and joy that, for me, there are few words to describe the experience. Rather, I'll leave it to you to experience for yourself--when you're ready to tackle the challenges that the Yough poses.

The Importance of Scouting

Scouting in kayaking does not involve merit badges and soap carving. 

The act of looking at and examining a rapid from every possible angle is an important learning tool. If you'r ever paddling with someone who is running a rapid for the first time and they say "Let's just bomb through it," you might want to reconsider who your paddling partners are.

Even if you've run a rapid numerous times, there's great value in getting our of your boat, walking the shore to the drop and analyzing the water as it pours over and around the rocks of the river bed. Choose the line you'll aim for once you get back in. Listen to other paddlers talk about their lines. Watch them try to stick it. See how closely they come to running their lines and watch which parts of the river make them either blow it or run it flawlessly.

The river can be like an open book. But you have to be willing to accept the knowledge it gives you.

Scouting a rapid helps you learn to read water. It can teach you to decipher the difference between a hole and a wave.

What's causing the feature? Is it a ledge or a boulder?

How strong is the hydraulic created by the feature? Is the hole a strong recirculator, or will it flush you if you fall into it?

Will I need to boof over it, or can I punch straight through it?

These are all important questions, and if you can learn to answer them, then the language of the river will start to look a lot more like English than Mandarin or French.

The more important question is, will you do your home work and learn to speak the language?

The Awesome Responsibility of Teaching the Roll

I post a hefty amount of paddling tips and information, but I still like to remind folks (myself included) that I'm still hold novice status for a kayaker--unlike motocross.

Recently I found myself on a lake, with a group of inexperienced paddlers, doing something I thought I wouldn't do until my children grew older. And that was teaching someone to kayak roll.

A local kayaker's brace fails him and he rolls just after going over all 8 feet of Rookie Drop on the Cuyahoga River in Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio.

It wasn't exactly the first time I was "teaching" a roll. When I first started kayaking I took my slick new Freeride 57 to a pool session to try and teach myself to roll. I met a new friend, someone I still paddle with frequently, who was in the same boat, so to speak. He thought he could teach himself to roll.

While I've come a long way, I quickly developed a roll and helped my friend with guidance and encouragement, as his roll was slower to come. But I never thought of myself as instructing him because we started at the same place and were more colleagues than a mentor and a teacher.

Back on the lake, after two years of whitewater experience it was clear I had a thing or two I could share to help this rag-tag group. There were four new paddlers, all in expedition boats. Most didn't have helmets. None had nose plugs. Their paddles were too-long and clearly recreation boat paddles. One was wearing a flimsy touring skirt designed for splash resistance and not submersion. 

They joked about my PFD. "What's all that stuff on it?"  

As a more experienced kayaker, it was clear there is some serious responsibility associated with teaching someone to roll. The implications being that newer kayakers, who might not be equipped with the ability to catch an eddy, ferry or read water, might learn to roll and suddenly think they're ready to master the biggest, fastest rapids.

There's more to teaching someone to roll. It's important to instill in them the awesome power of the river. They have to learn to respect it along with all the other techniques that come with becoming a successful paddler. Learning to roll is one thing. Learning to become a strong paddler who can grow into an asset for any paddling group is another.

There's more to being a good paddler than just being able to combat roll.

Cuyahoga River's Sheraton Run

Never been to Ohio? Think there's no good whitewater in the Buckeye state?

Check out the "Sheraton" run of the Cuyahoga River as it runs through Cuyahoga Falls.

The only current Class V section of the Cuyahoga River runs alongside and beneath the Sheraton Hotel in downtown Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio.

"Staircase" drop is the second of two large drops on this section of the Cuyahoga.

If the Ohio Edison dam just downstream of this section is ever removed, some more epic whitewater will be reborn to create one of the best stretches of whitewater within a few hundred miles. But that dam removal is a story for another day.

Need more motivation to make the trip? Here's a video of the run.

Get Out and Paddle!

If your car hasn't transformed into a shuttle bus yet this year, you're missing out!

It's been a while since I've had time to write. That's because I've been out enjoying myself on the river!

And that's where you should be. Get out and paddle before the season slips away! Hit your local backyard run the next time a summer rain brings it up off the river bed. Plan a trip to a dam-release run. Or go hit the local park-and-play. Low-water is better than no-water.

Wherever there's water, get yourself there! Or the prime paddling season will slip away before you know it.

It's OK to Push Yourself

From trench to crest, this wave easily topped out at 5 feet. Photo Credit: Matt Jackson

Paddle at your own pace. That's my mantra. By that, I mean know thine own paddling skills and know when you're ready to progress from paddling Class II+ to Class -III rapids.

I've been relegating myself mostly to Class II or Class II+ for the last few years. I've been paddling easy rivers that I turn into personal slalom courses. I've learned almost every move on them and can hit the lines with ease. I could have easily spent yet another season on these waters trying to get creative and find lines that I might not have seen before—and I still will.

But I recognized it was time to move on. I was lacking a challenge. In order to start advancing my skills, I needed to find places where I could try moves and lines that I couldn't do in my sleep without risking the need for a brace or roll. I needed water that would take me not a leap but a step beyond my comfort zone.

And I did it on a river I'd been paddling the last two seasons. This spring after a heavy snow melt some friends and I headed to the lower section of Slippery Rock Creek, which at normal flows is not much more than Class II. Typical summer flows are between 0 feet to 1.5 feet, and we've run it countless times at the median level. This day, we had a healthy 4 feet, which is a lot of water for a small creek like the Slip. 

The nature of this stretch is largely devoid of dangers like undercuts and strong pour-over holes. This means at high water the natural rapids turn into fun slide-like drops with huge wave trains.

One of the normally gentle drops creates a huge series of waves on the lower Slippery Rock Creek. Photo credit: Matt Jackson

That run gave us a big-water feel without the risk of paddling a stretch of river we might not have been prepared for. Still, despite its relative ease we had to be on our guard—particularly for strainers. Plus the water and air temperature combined for less than a total 80 degrees.

A few of us, myself included, were hesitant to hit the water that day. After all, we'd never run it at that high level before. But after the run, we were all smiles and couldn't believe we'd been contemplating passing up a great day on the water and a great chance to advance our paddling experience without stepping too far outside our comfort zone.

Knowing, and paddling, at your own pace is important. But it's also important to know when the time to hesitate is through.

When Kayaking Calls for A Helmet

How many helmets can you count? Here's a weekday group paddling the low-water remnants of the 271 Wave on the Cuyahoga River in the Cuyahoga Valley National Park.

A friend asked me "When is it time to start wearing a helmet when I'm paddling?" 

Naturally, I started thinking about all the times I'm paddling when it's OK not to wear a helmet. And I couldn't think of any.

Of course, really only one instance came to mind. The only time I would consider not wearing a helmet is if I were paddling on a really deep inland lake, where there's almost zero risk of hitting a submerged strainer, rock or other object if I inadvertently flipped or rolled intentionally to cool off on a hot day.

And even when I do, I still wear my helmet.

So when should you be wearing a helmet? Every time you get into your kayak. I'm not a Class V paddler. I haven't even fired up a Class IV yet. I've paddled my share of flat water—and still do. I got my start in a rec boat. Whether it's a flat-water doldrums stretch between rapids or a lazy Sunday afternoon paddle, I wear my helmet every time. It's incredibly unlikely, yet still not impossible, to flip in a gently moving flat water stream. Even still, the risk of getting walloped by a strainer creeping underneath the surface or a boulder remains.

I was on the Lower Yough recently, paddling with a group of more experience kayakers, when the most-skilled paddler came through a rapid without his helmet. I figured he lost it somehow. His answer? He was too hot. At the standard release of 1.8 feet the Lower Yough is overflowing with boulders ready to jump up and crack your crown. He cinched his chin strap after seeing the dumbfounded look on my face in response to his justification for relying on his skull as his brain's last line of defense.

Are you paddling shallow Class II or better? You should absolutely be wearing a helmet every time. Even if you're just a lazy weekend paddler, a $75 brain bucket is cheaper than any concussion—or worse—you could encounter underneath the surface. 

The bigger question is: should you go full-face or not? And that's a question for another day.

Know Thine Own Paddling Skills

We are all guilty of doing it. Maybe it's peer pressure. Maybe it's the urge to put an end to the dry season. Or maybe we're trying to keep up with the group.

Whatever the cause, we all end up paddling over our heads at some point in our long journey down the river that is our cumulative paddling experience.

Here I am about to put on a river that, at the time, was the most challenging I would experience. It was mid season, and I'd spent months preparing for the challenge. I survived unscathed, and all the wiser!

Case in point. It's been a long winter here, where record-setting low temperatures kept most local paddlers from even thinking about getting on a river knowing at the takeout you, and your gear, will be a block of ice.

Weeks of below-zero temperatures meant that the several feet of snow we'd gotten all winter stayed frozen, so it did nothing to raise flows. If rivers weren't frozen, they were incredibly low because there was no melt to bring up water levels.

At last, winter has broken. The massive amount of snow that's been sitting for months is melting all at once, and there's rain in the forecast. The rivers are coming back to life. Everyone's getting the itch. This weekend they'll be teeming with paddlers fighting for lines and eddy space.

Paradise, right? What's the problem? For a novice, the debate lies in whether putting an end to a long off-season is worth putting on a river that could very well be at or near flood stage, and possibly beyond your skill set.

No single river is one river. There are many rivers contained within it's banks, and they're revealed as the water rises and falls. For familiar waters, as a novice I like to get used to paddling them when they're "runnable," or in other words at a level that's enough to be a lot of fun yet not dangerous. A river's character can change drastically with just 6 inches of extra depth or a few hundred more cubic feet-per-second.

Yet that small character change isn't what makes me nervous. I like to tackle rivers with slight changes in mood, say from slightly raccous to thrashing. After all, how do we advance our paddling skills if not by upping the challenge every now and then?

But when thaws and floods unleash the monster you have to be willing to accept that there may be some paddling situations that are beyond you. Some members of the group may encourage you to push the envelope a little, and that can be a good thing in the right scenario. Moving from Class III after a season of Class II+ comes to mind, especially during "normal flows."

Your paddling buddies watch you boat all season. They know your capabilities--to a certain extent. No one knows what you're capable of more than you. So if you're thinking about getting on the river after the first big thaw, think about where your comfort zone is on the water. Getting outside your comfort zone can help advance your paddling skills. But if your comfort zone is in Cleveland, and the river you're contemplating paddling puts you in Seattle, you might want to think again before putting yourself and the group at risk.

Yakima Big Stack, Roof Rack Review

When I traded in my tried-and-true Silverado pick-up truck for a Tahoe this year I thought for sure gone were the days of quick and easy kayak loading.

Or so I thought.

To lug my large Jackson Karma around I had to install a roof rack. First, I tried just going with Yakima's crossbar set, which mounted directly to the factory roof rails. Just having the cross bars proved cumbersome when it came to securing my boat to the roof because I had few attachment points for securing tie straps.

Plus, what's more fun than paddling with some buddies! After all, who's going to laugh at you when you get beatered in that Class III hole? That means to get the most out of my 66-inch cross bars I had to upgrade to the Big Stack to give me more attachment points and more room for securely carrying more than two kayaks.

Yakima's Big Stack takes full advantage of the wide crossbars that fit on my SUV because the towers make it possible to secure as many boats as will fit standing on their sides on the bars. That means at least 4 boats. And stacking kayaks on the sides and sandwiching them next to each other, using the towers as the attachment point for tie straps, is far more secure than stacking two boats on their hulls side-by-side and then strapping two more boats down on top of the bottom two.

There are a few minor issues that bug me about this rack system.

The towers are advertised as folding down with the push of a button both for better aerodynamics when not in use and so you can fit your car in your garage without removing the towers. However, to get the the towers to fold I have to use a rubber mallet and whack the button several times to break them free so they'll fold down.

The mounts for cross bars also feature a fold-up end guard that is designed to "hide" the mechanism that clamps the mounts to the factory roof rails. These guards are floppy and tend to flip down easily.

The positive is that the method for using the super-long tie straps that come with the Big Stack is super easy to get your boat secure in a matter of minutes with just two straps. And the straps are so long that they can be used to secure multiple boats. Plus, Yakima also sends extra stern and bow tie straps that can be used to tie these end points to a rear vehicle hitch or front bumper/recovery hooks.

And the towers provide a great place to bungee a few paddles securely to the roof, thereby freeing up all the internal cab space for gear bags, gadgets and the like.

Lastly, installation was fairly painless. Overall, Yakima's Big Stack is a great option for getting the most out of your roof space for shuttling boats.

Club Boaters

It's 0 degrees Fahrenheit or below in many parts of the country. Rivers are too frozen to flow in other parts, and only the hardiest (read: most desperate?) of paddlers are actually hitting the rivers.

Where does that leave the rest of us? In the pool.

It's warm in here! The Meyers Lake YMCA pool in Canton, Ohio, offers some rough, but fun, games of kayak soccer Sunday mornings during winter months.

Kayak and canoe clubs around the country are organizing winter pool sessions and kayak soccer games to keep us happy and in our boats when the river is a less appealing place to dip our paddles.

These clubs are also providing a great opportunity for newer paddlers to sharpen their skills, and pool sessions help introduce would-be paddlers to the sport by giving them a chance to test the waters of a whitewater boat instead of the beat up old rental rec boat from the local flat water livery.

Here in Northeast Ohio, the Keelhaulers Canoe Club organizes a plethora of pool sessions during winter months. Don't let the name fool you. The club's more active members are mostly kayakers. They also have an incredible variety of river trips scheduled year-round that offer a fun time for the most advanced paddlers to the most square of noobs.

Have you taken advantage of a pool session lately? If so, did you reward the club who arranged it by becoming a member and supporting their local paddlesports efforts?

If you haven't, what are you waiting for? Make some new friends, sharpen your skills and get in your boat in winter without getting a case of the nose icicles!

Kokatat: the Only Drysuit You'll Ever Need

That's a bold claim, but it's not just a click-bait headline.

Here's the patch Kokatat put on my Hydrus 3L to repair 

a tear in the sleeve.

It's been a year since I bought Kokatat's economy drysuit, the Meridian Hydrus 3L.

I've tested it now on a cold March day in Ohio (air temperature below 50 degrees Fahrenheit and water just above freezing), a warm-ish spring day, a fall flat-water outdoor roll session and a bitter-cold October run on a dam release stretch of Stonycreek River.

And the suit sustained its first river-running injury: a rip in the sleeve.

Yet I can still say with confidence that a Kokatat drysuit is the last drysuit you ever need to buy.

I've talked performance already, and it's incredible. The issues I encountered--mainly getting a good closure and seal on the zipper--were user error. I've since lubricated the entry and relief zippers with parafin wax and added a touch of petroleum jelly to the closures, and the zippers seal tight with ease.

The comfort is superb, although it did take a few wears (and some overnight stretching) to fully break in the neck gasket.

But what's really sold me on this suit is Kokatat's customer service and repair process.

On the repair, it cost me less than $50, including shipping costs, to send it back to California to have the factory repair the tear, which was located in an awkward location on the sleeve near the cuff and several seams. Everyone I interacted with at Kokatat couldn't have been more friendly, I was updated on the suit's status throughout the repair (which they did during the Christmas and New Year's holidays) and the suit was pressure-tested for any other pinhole leaks.

What's the kicker? I tweeted about the initial zipper issues (which were completely user error) and got an email response from the tweet from Kokatat customer service with advice and tips on addressing the issues.

Within the paddlesports industry, you're hard-pressed to find a company with a better product and customer service to match.

Bottom line, when it comes time for a drysuit or drytop, go with Kokatat. You won't regret it.

You could argue that the Hydrus material isn't tough enough, as evidenced by the tear in the sleeve. I still don't know where the tear happened. I found the hole when I was putting the gear away after my last river trip.

If that's your argument, shell out the extra few hundred dollars and get one of Kokatat's Gore-Tex suits. The material is tougher and won't damage so easily.