Ego Paddling

An unlucky soul swims a waterfall after failing to make his roll and missing two throw ropes.

Ego, it drives the world. It encourages great leaders to fight for what’s right, because they are confident in their convictions and their abilities enough to know that their righteousness is worthy of the push to discover what’s possible. They know that the knowledge and principles they possess suggest their personal judgment calls warrant consideration, contemplation, and maybe even adherence to, or personal adoption, by a greater audience.

Yet ego also can motivate the irrational, inaccurate, even dangerous man.

In my few modest years as a whitewater kayaker I’ve learned that ego does both to every paddler, whether they are the former or the latter.

Often, the result is the same for these two types of paddlers. One pushes hard, and fast, setting their sights on the next big run, the next big drop and the most challenging rivers. The other is more methodical and seeks a more linear progression curve. The first boater often fails to focus on sharpening basic skills and techniques and suffers for it, and the results are predictable – injuries, swims, damaged (or lost) gear or worse. The second boater takes multiple runs to master a descent, all the while practicing and perfecting strokes and body English, accumulating knowledge before moving up the difficulty scale. You know these boaters. Chances are, you are one or the other.

I’ve also learned that it’s the impatient, inexperience paddlers pushing the envelope who also disregard the opinions of their peers and find themselves in unwanted situations – like getting a beat down for their troubles. I see it often. Whereas the most pain the more patient boater is likely to receive comes from the jabs and barbs cast at them for being afraid to push the edge, or for being deemed lame by their peers for running the same stretches repeatedly. I see that too.

Ego drives them both, for in their own minds they are right and the other is wrong. Recently, among my small paddling group boaters have been finding themselves on one side of the line or the other. Criticism flies. Each points the finger at the other, saying they’re the ones who are wrong. Sadly, we are all human. And as much as we want to believe that being kayakers makes us holier-than-thou for loving the Earth and seeking out the mystical Zen that aligns our bodies and minds with the flow of the river, we are wrong. In the end, we are made of dirt and stardust. A mix of grit and wonder; mostly rough, sometimes shining yet often unkind sacks of loosely organized meat. Judgmental gossipers, we all are.

There are paradoxical benefits to both boaters. Without pushing the envelope, there can be no progression. But one cannot push the envelope and truly progress without first correctly gathering the skills necessary to do so.

Few can strike the balance and find the advantages that each paddler possesses and add them to their repertoire. Cautious optimism, a desire to improve, the will to take calculated risks (and know when not to) and the patience to hone the techniques required to enter the kingdom of the Class IV-V boater. Think Rafa Ortiz, Dane Jackson, Pat Keller, Stephen Wright, and others.

So, what do we do? How do we learn from the lessons these two boaters can teach us? We listen to each other. Try that seemingly boring ferry or eddy move. Push the envelope a little. 

As Maynard James Keenan once said, “I’m the man, and you’re the man, and he’s the man as well, so you can point that fucking finger up your ass!”