Category: Kayaking

Death of a Thunderbolt

Today is a tale of one smart thing and one stupid thing.

  • Smart thing: I got a dry suit.
  • Stupid thing: I got too close to the ice blocking the river

Let me back up a bit.

Yesterday (Saturday), Jim and I paddled on the river, and when we got to where the river was completely blocked with ice, we could see it a long way off and turned well before it. Jim remarked that since it was going to remain well above freezing, it should be clear further down today (Sunday). And sure enough, it was.

We were cruising along pretty nicely, there was ice on both river banks but plenty of room in the middle. We were both warm and dry in our Kokatat semi-dry suits and enjoying life. There were a few chunks of ice in the river, and nothing bigger than a foot or two in any dimension, and mostly so thin that you could bash through them in your boat. I was in my West Side Boat Shop Thunderbolt, which has become my “beater” boat for spring paddling because it’s so tough and stable and because I don’t really care much what happens to it.

Up ahead, we could see what looked like a very large floe in the middle of the river. It was only about 10 or so feet long, and I couldn’t tell if it was moving with the current. But we both agreed to head over to the right side since that looked clearer. But as we got nearly to the “gap”, I crunched up partially onto ice that was just below the surface of the water. Jim and I both back-paddled. He had no problems turning around, because his Epic V8 has an understern rudder with lots of rudder authority, but my boat is longer and has an overstern rudder, so it doesn’t turn anywhere near as well. I misjudged how far back I had to back-paddle before I started turning, and I ended up crunching sideways into the ice.

Now I’ve got a problem, because I need to paddle on the right side to turn, but there’s ice there. And the ice is pretty thin, so you can’t push down on it very hard. I don’t know exactly how it happened – either the ice gave way when I was trying to push it with the paddle, or I was trying to push myself away from the ice with my hand and I overbalanced. Either way, I ended up in the water. Immediately I realize that my dry suit is working perfectly, and no water is getting in, but I also realize that the cold water is still pulling heat out of my body. Also, I’ve freed my hands from my pogies and they’re utterly freezing. The boat is upstream of me, and it’s bumping into me. I ignored it because I know that there is no way to remount it until I can get onto solid(ish) ground. I tried pulling myself along the edge of the ice to get closer to the shore, but the ice kept breaking. I also tried pulling myself up onto it, but again, as soon as I got my upper torso onto it it would break. The current was pulling my feet under the ice and I was starting to get concerned. Jim had been trying to rescue my boat, but I called to him that I was having problems and he dropped the boat and came over. He couldn’t get in too close, because he didn’t want to end up in the same predicament, but he backed towards me, and as he got close enough I left my paddle up on the ice and swam over. I grabbed the handle on the back of his V8 and held on for dear life.

My hands were frozen solid – I kept thinking of Howard Blackburn purposely freezing his hands to the oars so he didn’t let go even though he couldn’t feel them. I was in a similar state – I was afraid to adjust my hand position for fear of not being able to grab back on. Jim paddled furiously, and I kicked, but we seemed to be just barely moving up stream. Jim’s goal was a bridge that was a hundred meters or so upstream of where I’d fallen in, but it seemed like the far side of the moon to me. Every now and then my neck would go below the water and a small trickle of water would come in – that’s the difference between a semi-dry and a full dry suit – but it wasn’t enough to chill me any more than I was. Actually, truth be told, besides my painfully cold hands, the rest of me wasn’t feeling cold. Maybe I was too worried about goal to think about it.

After what seemed like forever, we got to the bridge. Jim was trying to get around to the upstream side, but there was ice in close to it. Also, the current got really fast around the abutment because the water flows around it, and with me on the back acting like a gigantic rudder he didn’t have a lot of maneuverability. At one point he suggested I swim for it, so I reluctantly let go of the boat and swam – I wasn’t moving any faster than he had been towing me, and my hands were now fully in the water. But I grabbed the nose of his boat, and then the concrete of the nose of the abutment, and managed to pull myself around the nose and get into shallower water. And once I was in the shallow water, I was able to break the ice and climb up onto the bank. I think we were both pretty exhausted at that point.

Once I was up on the bank, Jim headed back to see if he could rescue my paddle and/or my boat. My immediate problem was my hands – now that they were out of the water and warming up a bit, they were extremely painful. Just unbelievable amounts of pain. Last time I felt something this bad was the time in Sudbury when I got frostbite on my penis. I wanted to put my hands in my groin or my underarms to warm up, but I couldn’t grasp the dry suit zipper cover. I knew that even if Jim managed to rescue my equipment, I wouldn’t be able to get back to the put-in under my own steam because I didn’t think I could hold the paddle. I looked downstream and saw Jim had my paddle, but he didn’t have a place to stow it and so it kept digging into the water and falling out. He left it, and I guess he tried to reach the boat but couldn’t reach it safely.

He came back up to me and we briefly discussed what to do next. The bridge I was under was the New York State Thruway (I-90) so I couldn’t very well get picked up there. And of course, for the first time in a long time I forgot to bring my phone so I couldn’t call anybody. Jim pointed out a house on the other side of the river, and he said he was going to look for a rope. I walked over the bridge and the man in the house came out wearing a loose bathrobe and boxer shorts, and a woman was in the background looking equally casually dressed, so I worried that I interrupted something. Anyway he let me use his phone, but suggested I stand outside to do the calling because several dogs were barking at me. But of course since I was calling from a number Vicki didn’t know, she didn’t answer. (We’ve been getting a lot of calls from local numbers that are usually the “we’re calling from credit card processing” scams, so we don’t usually answer when unfamiliar numbers show up in the caller display). I left a message, hoping that she’d call back. But by then Jim was out in the water just offshore of this place asking for a rope. The guy and I went to look for one, but by the time we got back it was obvious there was no hope – you could see my boat was sitting in the water nose down with the stern in the air at about a 70 degree angle from the horizontal. Obviously the boat had tipped over and bow had filled with water, which meant that even if Jim could get a rope on it, it would be impossible to tow with several hundred pounds of water in it – West Side Boat Shop boats don’t have bulkheads, so when water comes in, they’re freaking heavy. Jim reported that he could also see my paddle had slipped under the ice. Maybe somebody will find them when they pop out the other side of the ice floe, but it’s more likely somebody will wonder what the strange shape is going over the weir near Dinosaur BBQ in a few weeks.

Craigslist “Lost kayak” listing

Anyway, Jim said he’d go back and get his car and come back and pick me up. I told the guy in the house that I’d walk to the end of the driveway (because I was already feeling like I was interrupting their Sunday afternoon). And once I got to the end of the driveway I kept walking to keep warm.

It’s now 3 or 4 hours later. My fingertips are still all pins-and-needles even though they’re not cold – hopefully it’s nothing permanent, because this is really annoying when typing.

My take away from all this? Well, I haven’t paddled in icy rivers in a number of years because I was afraid of what would happen if I got sucked under the ice. Today proved that just because I had on a dry suit, that’s still a major danger. I got over confident and got into real danger because of it. The dry suit is going to be great in the spring and fall – and if we do a downwinder at the TC Surfski Immersion weekend, but I’m not going to paddle near river ice ever again.

Come on Garmin, why is this so hard?

I use Garmin Connect to record and track my workouts. Since this is winter, mostly I’ve been doing workouts on the kayak ergometer (“erg”). Every now and then it gets warm and I can get out for a bike ride, but when it’s too cold I do three workouts a week on the erg. I put them into Garmin Connect as “Indoor Cardio”, because it’s the closest thing in their list of activity types to what I actually do. But Garmin Connect can’t seem to decide what to do with that. The list they present is semi-hierarchical – it shows “Running”, then a list of sub-categories of running (like “Street Running”, “Track Running”, etc., then a line, then “Cycling”, then a list of sub-categories of cycling, then a line, then “Fitness Equipment” and a list of sub-categories including “Indoor Cardio”, then other categories and sub-categories. Paddling is in the “Other” category.

On my dashboard, there is a graph called “Activity Time” that shows my daily activity time. And this is the thing that drives me up the wall. Because in spite of the fact that “Indoor Cardio” is in the “Fitness Equipment” category, if you look at this graph for any time up until the beginning of this month, my erg time shows up as “Other”:
Screen Shot 2016-02-18 at 15.35.10
And then for a couple of weeks, they seemed to have gotten it right and started labelling it “Fitness Equipment”:
Screen Shot 2016-02-18 at 15.36.08
But this week they suddenly just decided to break things entirely, and now my erging activities don’t show up on the “Total Activity Time” graph at all:
Screen Shot 2016-02-18 at 15.36.43
And strangely, not only does it show up in the “Active Calories” graph, it’s there as “Fitness Equipment”:
Screen Shot 2016-02-18 at 15.38.11

Way to go guys.

2016 Racing Calendar

Last year, I posted my 2015 Racing Calendar and I ended up doing most of the races I’d predicted (I missed Ride The Bull and didn’t finish the Blackburn Challenge). So here is my idea for this year (ones I’m pretty sure I’m going to in bold, ones I’m not sure about in normal):

May 14th: Round the Mountain
June 2nd-5th: TC Surfski Immersion Vacation
June 18th: Ride the Bull
June 26th: Black River
July 9th: Armond Bassett
July 16th: Canadian Surfski Championships
July 18-23th: Gorge Downwind Champs
August 11-14: USCA Nationals – Northfield MA
August 20: Buffalo Paddle Festival
September 17th: Lighthouse To Lighthouse or
September 17th?: Baycreek Kayak and SUP Cup
September 24th: Long Lake Long Boat Regatta.
October 2: Seneca Monster

Last year I used my Thunderbolt for Round The Mountain (RTM) but then put it away and didn’t use it afterwards. I used the V10 Sport for most races, except for Armond Bassett where I used the V12. This year I’d like to try the V12 for RTM, but I need to be more comfortable in wind and waves with it first. Considering how much time I lost getting out of and back into the Thunderbolt on the carry, a ski would be a big advantage for me. I don’t want to risk the V10 Sport on RTM because there is a slippery downhill and I’ve dropped my boat at least twice on it, and the “ultra” layup is fragile as hell. But the V12 is the tougher “performance” layup and should be able to take it.

Surfski 2015 Year In Review

Since I’m sick I probably won’t paddle more than once more this year, here is my end of year summary.
This year:
Paddling distances:

  • Epic V10 Sport: 985.1 km
  • Epic V12: 469.5 km
  • WSBS Thunderbolt: 351.3 km

For a grand total of 1,805.9 km (1122.1 miles). I also managed to get in 1649.4 km on bikes, 19:21 on the erg, and 5:03 on a stationary bike. I don’t think I kept full stats in previous years but this seems a lot more than previous years. My plan for next year is to maybe slightly reduce the number of hours on cardio and work on muscle strength and speed more.

At the beginning of the year, I posted my racing goals for the year. I didn’t stick with it 100% – I missed Ride The Bull and Lighthouse to Lighthouse was cancelled.
Races:

This of course doesn’t include the Wednesday night time trail races at BayCreek. I didn’t beat my personal best at all this year, although I got pretty close once or twice. Surprisingly, I was faster in the V10 Sport than the V12, which just goes to prove that you can’t put down full power if you’re not feeling stable.

I’m actually a bit surprised at making 351 km on the Thunderbolt, because basically after Round The Mountain in May I put it away and didn’t use it again. Even in the cold fall weather I’ve been using a ski because I can remount a ski.

The highlight of the year of course was going to BC for the Canadians. I wasn’t quite last, but I wasn’t far off it – but then again I don’t get to train in the ocean much either. I did better against many of the same people on a flatter and shorter course the Tuesday before.

I was disappointed in DNFing at the Blackburn Challenge, but lots of people with a lot more experience than I also DNFed so I’ll try not to feel bad about it.

Next year I’m hoping to go to the Gorge Downwind Festival (recently renamed to “Gorge Downwind Champs”, which seems like a mistake to me because it’s de-emphasizing the 6 days of downwind shuttles and fun in favour of the two race days), and maybe manage to come a few days early to make the Canadian Champs again (providing I can find a rental car that allows you to cross the border). Unfortunately that would mean missing a chance to conquer the Blackburn under more normal conditions, but hey, 6 days of downwind shuttles!

Long Lake Long Boat Regatta 2015

I had to miss last years LLLBR because of other commitments which is a shame because this is always a good competitive race. Also when the weather is good (like it was this year) it’s a spectacularly beautiful venue. Unfortunately whatever wind there is tends to funnel straight down the lake, but it’s the same for everybody so no problem. This year it was sunny and cool, and with almost no wind at the beginning which built into a light breeze in the middle.

In previous years, it’s been a simple out and back, but evidently last year they changed it so we start at the same place, but go in the other direction under the bridge, go about 3.5 km into the lower part of the lake, come back under the bridge, then circle around an island and come back for a total of about 17km. Not only is it more interesting route but it’s more spectator friendly. This year there was actually cash prizes for the touring class kayaks, so there were a lot of people in touring class, meaning that the unlimited class looked like it was going to be a fight between John H, Pete G and myself. Todd, Roger, Doug and others were all fighting it out for the money.

Less than 100 meters after the start, Todd was leading, John was on this tail, Roger and I were side by side, and Pete was behind us. (Update after reviewing the video, it appears that it was Pete and I side by side and Roger was already on John’s wake.) Within another hundred meters, Roger had claimed John’s stern wake, I was glued to his stern, and Pete was glued to mine. The canoe wave had started a few minutes ahead of us, so we were passing the slower ones almost immediately. And Todd was not taking any prisoners. At the first canoe, he tried to scrape us all off – John didn’t lose the wake, but Roger ended up a little off John’s wake and I was a little off Roger’s, but we fought back on. At the next canoe, John lost a little distance, but clawed back on. At the next canoe, John ended up going the opposite side of the canoe from Todd, and Roger lost his wake as well. That was pretty much the way it stayed to the first turn – Todd alone, John alone, then Roger, me and Pete in a conga line. (Update: from the video it appears that John got back on Todd’s wake after the scrape, and stayed there around the turn.)

At the turn, I intended to follow Roger around, even though his boat doesn’t turn as well as mine. But Pete decided to turn as tight as he could and come around us on the inside. I took the bait and latched on his stern wake and Roger latched on mine. On the way back to the bridge we came up through some wakes of some of the faster c-2s and slower c-4s, as well as some boat wakes, but otherwise it was nice and flat. A couple of times Pete looked like he decided to try to catch John and put in a big dig for a few hundred meters. But we were nearly a minute behind John even after those digs and not really closing.

Now this whole way I’d been paddling way too hard. My heart rate was in the low 160s and I was sure Pete was going to blow me up, so at about the six kilometer mark I decided I needed to slow down, drop off Pete’s wake and paddle my own race and hope I could catch him later. But after I slowed down, he slowed down as well, so he ended up not getting more than two or three boat lengths ahead of me.

After the bridge, there was a strong head wind, and it seemed to be slowing down Pete more than me. I caught him not long after and almost immediately he wanted me to come through. He asked me if I thought we should follow Todd towards the left side of the lake or John towards the right. I didn’t think it made any difference because there didn’t appear to be any shelter on either side, so I just went straight towards the boat at the turn. Pete latched on my wake.

About half way from the bridge to the turn, I got passed by a stranger in my boat. That wasn’t a total surprise – I’d advertised my Think Legend and this guy Kurt had agreed to pick it up today at the race. But I hadn’t seen him before the race, so I wondered if he’d blown me off. But now he came steaming by. We introduced ourselves to each other and he went off to hunt down John and Todd.

As we got closer to the turn, I was starting to think that I was starting to close the gap on John. I timed the gap at around a minute back at the bridge, and now it was closer to forty seconds. Hope bloomed. And then as I’m turning, I sneak a look back and I’ve got a few second gap on Pete and Roger. Time to put the hammer down!

For the whole last four kilometers from the turn to the finish, I’m convinced that I’m getting closer and closer to John, but I just don’t have any gas left in the tank to put in a final sprint to catch him. I sneak glances behind and it appears I have a good gap on Pete and Roger, and it may be growing. As I cross the line about 10 or 20 seconds back on John, he appears completely surprised to see me there. He jokingly accused me of sneaking up on him like I had at Armond Bassett. There was nothing stealthy about my approach – I was wheezing like a steam engine, but he was probably working just as hard and just as loud. I looked back and it appeared that Roger had taken back the lead from Pete and Pete was latched onto his wake.

Results haven’t been posted yet, but Todd won touring class, followed by Roger and John won unlimited class followed by me and Pete. All in all a fantastic race and a very pleasing result for me. A great way to end the race season.

Update: Results are here. I was only 11 seconds behind John at the finish.

The third canoe that I mentioned above that Todd successfully scraped off Roger, Pete and I and nearly scraped off John posted his how video. You can see us at the 1:50 mark.

Long Lake Long Boat Regatta September 26, 2015 from Scott Ide on Vimeo.