Swimming Showers Rapid on the Stonycreek River

I managed to drag my Karma large to an eddy but had to rely on the kindness of strangers to recover my paddle.

This blog lately has trended in pairs. I would write a post about a topic, and then the issue naturally expanded into a second post with time.

So when I wrote a post titled "The Swim" I should have known better what I was setting myself up for. Shortly after publishing that little gem I took a trip with some friends to make the last whitewater release from the Quemahoning Reservoir near Johnstown, Pennsylvania, for some Class III+ action on the Stonycreek River Canyon.

We piled in the van, hooked up the trailer and set out at zero-dark-thirty, or maybe it was 6:30 am. Whatever, it was dark when we started our three-hour journey east into the Appalachian foothills. Most of us hadn't been in our boats for a few months because we haven't had enough water for local paddling here in Northeast Ohio.

Feeling more than rusty, I squeezed into my Kokatat Hydrus 3L and hiked up from the "easy" put-in to the drop in just above Showers Rapid--the only Class III+ rapid we would experience that day.

The rest of our compatriots were running shuttle, and so about a dozen of us had ample time to run Showers a few times if we were feeling up to it. The rapid offers almost a half dozen points to scout it from, including a few rocks right on the river's edge mid-rapid. I remember thinking "piece of cake." Stale, moldy one-year-old freezer burnt wedding cake.

I put in with another long-boating friend, and we ferried across the river using some eddies to try and break free of two months worth of rust. I watched a few people line up, drop and disappear into the first tongue of the rapid. It looked easy enough. All I had to do was try and stay to the left and miss the muching hole topped by a curling cross wave at river right.

Just as I lined up to drop in I felt my 4 a.m. wake-up that morning and about two months worth of paddling rust seize my hips, shoulders and eyelids. I made the first drop easy enough but was pointing too far river left while moving way too much toward river right. I dropped into the second hole nearly sideways. It was too easy for that wave to spin me like a window shade. Instead of bracing, I thought "flip and roll." Splash! Upside down and my face freezing, I remember thinking "set up for your roll, dumbass." The frigid water, bulky dry suit and aforementioned oxidation laughed off my meager roll attempt, and I pulled the rip cord. I hadn't had to swim out of my boat in months.

Fortunately, my long-boating friend and his LiquidLogic road cone were parked in an eddy where I managed to swim, dragging my 103-gallon volume kayak behind me.

The rest of the paddle, for me at least, was seamless. More than a few paddlers told me that had Showers been in the middle of Stonycreek Canyon I would have cruised through it. Next time!

A Summer Full of Personal First Descents

It was a busy summer paddling season for me, and one filled with a lot more paddling than I expected--and a lot more personal first descents of rivers for someone who's been mostly cruising Class I-II the past few years.

The only river on my list for advancing my paddling skills in 2014 was the Cuyahoga River Lower Gorge, which depending on the levels has some nice Class III-IV paddling beneath the Ohio Edison Dam.

I managed to tackle that section and then some this summer. First I was able to jump on a Keelhaulers trip to Slippery Rock Creek in Pennsylvania. Then I also tacked on the "new" section of the Cuyahoga River where two dams were removed above the Sheraton section in downtown Cuyahoga Falls (mostly Class II-III).

I was lucky enough to paddle Stonycreek River Canyon as well in early October. I learned more this summer about whitewater paddling than in the past four years of recreational paddling. Enjoy the photos!

I was lucky to paddle with a large, and stellar, group of Keelhaulers for my personal first descent of Slippery Rock Creek.

The eddies on Slippery Rock Creek are calm and plentiful.

Three members of the intrepid paddling crew about to put on the Cuyahoga River Lower Gorge.

Shoving off in my Jackson Karma.

We waited out a nearly two-hour torrential downpour in Gorge Metro Park before hiking the mile up the Cuyahoga Lower Gorge to the put-in. All the rain that day had the river running at 1400 cfs for our paddle.

Lined up and ready to roll.

GoPro pictures never turn out in focus. I love my Karma. For a big boat, it's nimble enough. Look for a review from a beginner's perspective soon.

Everyone and their gear made it off the Stony intact for a bomb day on the water.

Four of our five-man group getting ready to hit the Stony. We had a balmy high temperature of about 40 degrees Fahrenheit. It proved chilly for early October!

Two Types of Kayaking PFDs

What's a PFD, you ask? In the world of paddle sports there are two definitions for the acronym.

The first applies to all water sports: Personal Flotation Device. A personal flotation device is a must for anyone interested in paddling. Whether you're on a lake, pond or river, no one should ever paddle without a PFD.

Here's an example of a before and after of my PFD. Now, remember what I've said before. I'm a beginner paddler and a novice at best. So there are certainly better ways to equip a PFD for river running. But here's what mine looks like.

My river-running PFD before equipping it with some basic safety gear.

I picked up a basic PFD from my local outfitter. It's an NRS brand guide-type vest with all sorts of pockets for various safety equipment.

Here's what it looks like after some of my initial outfitting.

Some basic safety equipment to include in your PFD if you're interested in river running. Keep in mind many of these items are hidden in pockets and not normally visible.

I incorporated some of the basics when I equipped my PFD for river running. Some of my must-haves on the river include: a water-tight medical kit complete with bandages and gauze, pain relievers, coagulates and more; a river knife; nose plugs; several feet of webbing; multiple carabiners, including one that can be used as a clip spot for a rescue; and an emergency whistle for alerting other paddlers to a swimmer or in case I need to help rescuers find me.

You can find all these things and more at your local outfitter. What's nice about this PFD from NRS is that the pockets, of which there are many, are big, and the med kit along with the webbing and carabiners all fit nicely inside and are within arm's reach at any moment.

One piece of gear I'd like to add yet is some type of waterproof radio. On a recent trip down some heady Class III our group of eight paddlers had a swimmer who got stuck on a strainer in the middle of the current. The group got split with some in eddies along the river's edge several hundred feet downstream of the trapped swimmer, and the rest were either near the strainer plotting a rescue or in their vicinity. Two of us were downstream wondering where the group's weakest paddler was. Had he managed to catch an eddy while we planned the rescue, or was he bombing down stream, alone on a river he'd never run before.

Had we had a few radios in the group, we would have quickly known he was indeed safely parked in an eddy upstream waiting for the rescue.

What's the other definition for PFD? Find that out next time.

Kayak Combat Roll Success!

We all remember our first.

I found success with my combat roll on Slippery Rock Creek in Pennsylvania on The Mile. I took the wrong line on Nemesis rapid at a paltry 0.5 feet depth on the river gauge, and I flipped. It just happened to be my personal first descent. I paddled it again a few months later at about 1 feet, hit the right line and paddled away upright and smiling.

Post by Matt Jackson.

The next time we ran it the river had dropped again to about 0.7 feet. A low-stress paddle, I thought. Lightning struck twice. Not thinking, I ran the wrong line again, missed the boof and went straight into the hole and got flipped upside down. The video above is proof that even the meekest of paddlers can find success with their river roll.

Like anything else, practice makes perfect. I probably put in 10 hours of flat water roll practice to get that one roll right when it counted. So if you're struggling with your roll, keep at it. You will find success.

The Swim

This unnamed hole got the better of me on a cold March day.

Eventually, everyone swims.

The fortunate, or maybe the good, roll.

My last real swim came before my first-ever combat roll. The water was cold -- 39 degrees Fahrenheit -- and the air was only slightly warmer. I was in a play boat I wasn't ready for and on the high end of the recommended max weight. But I had just run the same, tame stretch of river a week before at a depth of only 1 foot lower.

The shock of the cold stunned me, and I didn't even try to set up. I just pulled my skirt, kicked free and swam for an eddy. Grumbling at my own foolhardiness, I ran down the bank chasing my upside-down boat.

Fortunately, I wasn't paddling alone and had a good buddy who helped chase down my boat, which had become pinned against a concrete bridge abutment in the middle of an icy Cuyahoga River running strong at over 1,500 cfs. After about two hours, we managed to wrangle my boat free. I had only lost my $150 whitewater paddle and a pair of water shoes, sucked off and swept down river by the current.

Everyone swims. The point is, get back in your boat and paddle again. Learn your lessons and improve upon your weaknesses. Since then, I've practically mastered my roll, hit my first two combat rolls and upgraded to a boat more my size and capabilities.

We all make mistakes. The best of us learn from them.

Easy Kayak Storage for Your Garage

In my last post, I showed you how to create a do-it-yourself storage method for your kayak that gives you more space in your garage by storing the boat up near the ceiling.

This rig, which cost me a few bucks at the local hardware store, uses some anchor bolts in the ceiling and two tie-straps. Using the tie straps you can raise the boat into its storage position with minimal effort.

I have to emphasize one element. Make sure when you mount your storage eyelet bolts in the ceiling that they are anchored into a cross member. You can't just thread these into the drywall, as it won't hold the weight either of the boat or the force used when pulling on the tie-straps to raise the kayak.

How to Store Your Kayak

If you're like practically every kayaker, then you've got more than one yak.

Storing multiple boats can crowd your garage and make it tough to use. We all know kayaks live longer when stored inside, but even playboats aren't small and they can take up a lot of much-needed space.

I've found the best way to store my boats and maximize garage space is to elevate -- get them up off the garage floor. And I've gone two different routes to make this happen. First, I bought ready-made wall hanger storage hooks from my local Dick's.

These hangers, so far, have worked well. They were fairly easy to install. All I had to do was find two studs in my garage wall, one for each hanger, and screw the hanger into the stud. Measure the height of the anchor points to ensure your boats hang level if you're big on aesthetics. The key to using these hangers is to make sure you anchor them into the stud. If you don't, the weight of your boat could pull the hangers, and part of your drywall, down.

These are a straightforward solution, but it can be a comparatively expensive option. At $30 per hanger set, it costs $60 to hang two kayaks. These hangers have kept my Dagger Axis and PureSport rec boat neatly on display when stored for almost three years now.

I opted for a more do-it-yourself route for my Freeride.

To hang my playboat, I bought two eyelet bolts and two non-locking carabiner clips. I found two cross supports in the ceiling, drilled pilot holes and then screwd the eyelet bolts into the ceiling of my garage as anchor points. Next, I clipped the two carabiners to the anchor bolts for some flexibility in attachment points.

Using a tie strap, I fed the strap through the grab handles on my kayak and then attached the hooks of the strap to the carabiners.

I can then pull on the strap to remove the slack and raise the boat up near the ceiling. And voila! My boat is securely stored leaving ample space below for other storage or work space.

By taking the do-it-yourself route I saved a ton of money compared to buying the ready-made boat hooks. All total, the stainless hardware I bought for this method cost about $15. If you're deft with a drill, stud finder and measuring tape, then you can tackle either of these mounting methods.

All in all, both methods offer a convenient way to store your boat without taking up floor space and cluttering your garage.

Elevated storage for your kayak means there's more room in your garage for other toys. Credit: Matt Fredmonsky