I’ve been reading and thinking about bears (Timothy Treadwell, Among Grizzlies and the film, Grizzly Man). The prospect of travelling and camping in bear country should definitely give one pause. Many point out that guns and bear spray often give false security. An article at Backpackinglight mentions that for some bears, at least, spray can be highly effective in warding them off. The article also mentions concerns that bear problems will only get worse: “California wilderness parks make for good case studies of controversial bear management practices. The storage of food in so-called bear-proof containers (while the hiker is encouraged to sit back 50 yards or more and be patient) trains bears to be persistent and further habituated to the odors of human food.”
Kayaking & Whale "Watching"
As a Maine outfitter, I get frequent inquiries about kayak tours that provide opportunity to see whales. The association of kayaking and whale watching apparently comes from the west coast. To my knowledge there are no places on the East Coast where you can consistently or predictably sight whales from a kayak. I did cross paths with a Finback whale in Maine’s Muscongus Bay one August morning several years ago, but — to date — that has been, in thousands of miles of paddling, my sole encounter with a whale.
I find it interesting to speculate on close encounters with whales from a kayak and am thus interested in a Paddling.net thread on the topic
Hull Speed in Muscle-Powered Boats
This article comparing the hydrodynamics of kayaks and canoes with the new W boat is of interest to anyone interested in understanding the priniciples of kayak design and hull speed.
Call me an unbeliever, but I have some doubts about the “Wavewalk” twin hulled paddle craft advertised on the above site. They seem to be trying to market the boat as a performance craft, equal to a kayak in the surf, in whitewater, or for dead ahead cruising speed. There is likely a niche for the Wavewalk among recreational paddlers, but I can’t see how the Wavewalk could equal a good whitewater boat for slaloming between rocks or going over a drop. And what about paddling it into a 20-knot headwind? — standing up or kneeling, there’s still a lot added windage there over a kayak. Call me a purist, but I’ll take the sleek lines of a 17 foot composite kayak any day. And maybe it’s because as a kid I got told too many times to never stand up in a canoe or rowboat, but I’m not sure I could get used to the standing up part either.
As chronicled in the web site Around Oman which includes daily updates, Mark Evans is beginning the second phase of his 1,700 km kayak journey along the Oman coast. Evans hopes his journey will raise awareness of the Oman coast as a tourist destination as well as raising funds for the recently established Oman National Cancer Awareness Group. He is paddling 40 – 50 km each day.
Whitewater Racing Season Begins
The 2005 Maine canoe and kayak racing season began today with the traditional opener, a 6-mile race down a section of the St. George River from Searsmont. Despite the big snow year , the river was “bony” with river bottom rocks looking like multicolored easter eggs (lots of Old Town red and green) by the end of the day. The lack of rain and the relatively cool spring temps (days in the lower 40’s, nights in the 20’s) have kept the river levels low. The big water may be still to come! For the remaining race schedule, see the Mackro website.
During my own run I alternated between feeling grateful for being on the river at all — having broken my left wrist 8 weeks ago — and feeling frustrated that I wasn’t feeling stronger and faster. By the last couple miles of the course I had a sense that my boat was pulling strongly to the left — as if the hull were badly warped. More likely my left arm was simply so pooched out by that point that it took 2 strokes with the left to equal one with the right. The bottom line: I paddled a polyethylene VCP Avocet over the 6.5 mile course in 51:43, well off the winning time, good enough for 5th in the K-1 Long class.
Uproar Over Kayak Tax
I’ve been distracted this week by a proposal in the Maine legislature to require a $10.00 registration fee for all non-motorized watercraft. The proposal now seems dead in the water due to substantial uproar from paddlers near and far.
“What is it about this proposal that has gotten under my skin?” I’ve been asking myself. I stayed up late 2 nights exchanging emails with other MASKGI (Maine Association of Sea Kayak Guides and Instructors) members and typing rather cutting emails to local representatives and senators. Part of it, I think, is that for me — and for many others apparently — kayaking represents the opposite of the world that has anything to do with regulation, registration, government,or financial responsiblity. Kayaking is about getting away from all that. Something in me recoils at the thought of mixing the two: don’t put any red tape betweeen me and my kayak!
Although the $10.00 fee may seem small in the eyes of some, the registration is a symbolic intrusion upon a very fundamental recreational activity that has never been taxed before and still is not taxed in most other states. If you tax environmentally and socially benign activities such as canoeing and kayaking, it becomes a slippery slope toward taxing other activities — camping, hiking, swimming, cross country skiing, mountain biking, birdwatching, and so on. I can’t see the logic of taxing one of these activities unless you tax all of them. And the idea of paying a fee in order to step into my kayak and paddle it out into Penobscot Bay is just as repugnant to me as the idea of paying a fee in order to pull on a pair of boots and hike off into the woods behind my house. See the thread I started on Paddling.net for more views.
A New Kayak Website of Note:
“Maine has two seasons: winter and 2 months of damn poor sledding,” goes the old joke. The quote betrays a bemused acceptance of long winters. I imagine a cynical Inuit might have said pretty much the same. The Inuit were obviously highly skilled in surviving the extreme conditions of the arctic winter; and many times, it must have felt to them that winter was the dominant force in their lives. What they lived for, however, was to get out in the water in their kayaks.
It occurred to me while cross country skiing today that a kayak was very probably the first “ski.” As a group of nomadic hunger / gatherers moved north and encountered ice, they likely found that they could tow their loaded kayaks across smooth ice with a minimum of effort. From there, it wouldn’t take much of a cognitive leap to lash two kayaks together catamaran style (the first sled) and eventually to lash smaller versions of “kayaks” directly onto their feet as skis.
Kayak touring and cross country skiing do bear a lot of similarities — and not just in muscle groups used. Cross country skiing also involves maximizing glide and minimizing drag while moving across the surface of (frozen) H20. And anyone who has set a kayak down on snow or ice knows that the kayak just begs to go careening down even the slightest slope.
Again proving that you can find anything on the web, there are several sites featuring “snow kayaking.” My adventures in snow kayaking” includes several cool photos and a moving background. The Des Moines Register has an article on snow kayaking in Iowa of all places. Reportedly whitewater kayaks work best, but I still think a touring kayak would give more speed.