Forever JOdi...

How to read Rivers and Whitewater or REC 233 is almost over.. I just have the final. We had a packet due which had some interesting assignments(143/160, one of the lowest grades in the class). I am going to post one of the assignments that was in the packet. It is our river story, a non-fiction piece explaining an adventure we had on the river. You know me, I couldn't just write about rivers, i had to throw in the human element. I hope you get the impression, that i worked on these very late at night. I had no intention of putting this on my blog, but I wrote it, and the blog needs some new life blood.

My River Story
By Jodiane Goodman
June 2007

My first kayak loving boyfriend, was determined I would be a kayaker. So I bought myself a boat, and set out to prove I had the makings of an amazing kayaker, the pressure was on. We headed to the upper Truckee, outside Reno. I had a couple of pool sesions, they had not been too promising. Yet the river was running low, and I had a desire to prove that I had the zeal and natural ability to be a great kayaker.

I wasn’t very good, and I got cold and my kayak kept scraping the rocks. Even though most of the time there was barely enough c.f.s to keep me moving forward, ever so often there would be a drop off. For some reason my kayak would get turned around, and I would go off the drop-offs backwards. He warned me about it, told me to stop it. I just thought it was funny.

Some of the parts of the river got a bit wilder, as it narrowed. I was a little nervous. My stomach jumped a few times as the river sent me flying ever which way. I would get too far ahead, and he would yell for me to slow down. I didn’t know about the eddy or how to use it. So I would just stop paddling and hope he would catch up. I didn't realize how dangerous rivers could be. I did realize that I surely did not have the grace or natural abilities that I had hoped for, but I had a lot of spunk and determination. He interpreted my zeal as carelessness. Ever so often there would be a new drop off. I kept going over them backwards.

Then I came upon a drop-off that was much steeper than the others. Immediately I was in a hole. The seconds drug on. I couldn’t breathe. I was upside down. I couldn’t role. My kayak was stuck between two rocks. I grabbed onto one, got a quick breath and was immediately under the water again. My fingers lost traction with the rock, more seconds slowly passed. I was gonna die. And then it hit me, the words of salvation, “WET EXIT”. I did it. The swim to the rocks was painful. My knees were rubbed raw from the rocks. He had to chase my kayak, chase my paddle. He even got out the yellow rescue rope. It was a bit dramatic. He was angry I hadn't listened. I didn’t like being wet, I didn't like kayaking that much, but i thought if this is what it takes to win his heart, I will do it. If this is what it takes to prove my devotion, I will be wet and cold and almost die.

We didn’t last too long. As I was leaving he said, “I can sell your kayak for you, send you the money”. I said “hell no”, I was going to be a kayaker for myself, not for him. I would learn to love it. I had spent over 2000 dollars on the gear and boat. So I did what any prideful, Arizona girl, with no running rivers for miles, who just got dumped by her kayak loving boyfriend and now had a bunch of kayaking stuff with nowhere to use it would do, I joined the ASU Kayak Club. I learned to roll. I learned to paddle. I learned a bow draw and I even look dang cute in my dry top and helmet and spary skirt. I can honestly say I enjoy kayaking, and because of my hard work (not natural ability) I am getting better at it. So bring on the adventures... bring on the wet, cold, body breaking, mind numbing, scary pain.