None of the crew who'd put thigh straps in their boat could make it to the APU pool tonight where Tim Johnson, kayak expert and recent packraft Eskimo roller, was going to coach us.
Except Luc Mehl and me.
Luc invited his friends Galen and Dmitri, who paddled around in my yellow boat, while I got throughly confused on what I should be doing, other than trying to muscle over in the boat. I was getting nowhere.
Luc had managed a roll in the first 20 minutes or so with some tips from Galen, who once was a surf and sea kayak enthusiast. But then, like me, he floundered. At least he was getting his belly out of the water. I felt like I was just turning my boat from side to side underwater.
Meanwhile, Dmitri was off to the far end, doing his own thing. I'd actually written him off as just playing around in the packraft. Nobody seemed to be giving him any tips and I didn't hear any hooting and hollering -- until 9 PM, when I was just getting finished with hip snapping at the pool edge, which also was going nowhere.
It was getting time to leave. Tim had already gone into the locker room, no doubt amazed at how hapless, stiff, and uncoordinated I was.
"I probably will never be able to roll a packraft, even if glued to the thing," I thought.
Then I heard, "Do it again Dmitri!" and then watched in disbelief as he did what Luc had been doing all night and what anyone with thigh straps can do: get the upside down boat up to about a 45 degree angle by using the paddle in a standard kayak-style Eskimo-roll sweep. But he was finishing it off with a plop right side up!
Three times in a row he did it!
Paddling over to see what he did, I heard him recount the technique. He swept back with his arms to get up to the your-out-of-the-water stage, then hip thrust, "Like this," he gestured exaggerating his crunching hip movement.
I tipped over (I'd gotten good at that by now) came part way up Luc style and then hip thrust with a "Dmitri crunch", and BOOM -- I was over!
Awesome! I can't roll a kayak, and neither Luc nor Dmitri had ever rolled one. Now we were all rolling packrafts, long considered impossible to roll, then rolled recently but only by a kayaking expert.
Just to be sure I did it again. And again.
Luc was in the water now, paddling over to Dmitri to get his tuteleage -- then bam, bam he nailed two rolls in quick succession.
We'd done it!
Mere mortals, not kayak gods, had successfully rolled their packrafts and done it their own way.
Peggy and I have been going “ice worming” every week for the last month or so. It’s part of an ongoing project that I am involved with that's studying the ecology and evolution of ice worms.
Ice worms are small, dark colored relatives of earthworms, known only for sure to live from northern Oregon to Alaska, with some distant relatives living near Bomi in eastern Tibet. In Alaska and Washington State they have been studied in the summer as well as in the lab. During the summer they are common on glaciers near, and slightly below, firn line, especially at night. They are about half an inch long at most in the Alaskan populations I’ve seen, but they are bigger and more numerous in Washington State and British Columbia.
In summer they come swarming to the surface in huge numbers on some glaciers, coastal ones mainly. The glaciers draining the Harding Icefield can be thick with them below about 4,000 feet above sea level, but we have never seen them in the Alaska Range, or on the Matanuska, or in the Wrangells. There’s a bounty on them in the Alaska Range, so if you have GPS coordinates for Alaska Range populations, let me know. In Chugach State Park I have found them on the upper Eklutna and Whiteout Glaciers and Paul Twardock saw them on the Eagle Glacier near APU's Nordic Center. We looked on Flute Glacier, but it was a bad day for them, and we found none.
A good paper on ice worm behavior is by Dan Shain of Rutgers University and a handful of his students, entitled “Distribution and behavior of ice worms (Mesenchytraeus solifugus) in south-central Alaska" published in 2001 in the Canadian Journal of Zoology, Vol. 79, pages 1813-1821. He’s my collaborator on this project. My job this winter is to track their location as winter progresses. Until yesterday they were active on the surface. Yesterday with six inches of new snow and at temperatures near their lower lethal limit (~20 F) we found only dead ones on the surface of glacier ice where last week they’d been actively moving about.
There have been other interesting discoveries: like last week (and a couple years ago) when APU graduate student Melissa Becker and I saw worms crawling off the glacier ice, atop new, fresh snow over rocks. During our visits in October and November when the worms were out they were out at 2:00-5:00 PM, too. I expect that they were out all day.
Anyway, we’re getting some satisfying exploration each week out at near Byron Glacier, like inside this tunnel that penetrates a big avalanche cone that's actually a micro-glacier:
Well, it looks like he'll be putting athleticism into a trip that scales with a well known effort of 2008 from Seattle to Unimak. He, too, plans on several thousand miles by foot, paddle, and ski, but over, along, and through mountains and big, fast rivers. While the Wild Coast route was mostly coastal plodding -- intentionally, of course -- it was mostly impressive in that a married couple lived in their pyramid for a year as backcountry nomads. Skurka could just as easily live in his mid for a year, too, but he is strong and fast and likes to move that way, and solo, too. So he plans on nearly the same distance in less than half the time.
So, again, what does it mean? It means that he's upping the ante in Alaskan wilderness travel: fast, light, very BIG, and solo. Over 4000 miles in six months, with far more elevation gain and loss, whitewater, and wilderness than Alaska's most recent mega-trip. But more importantly it means that doing a week or two from Hope to Homer, Nabesna to McCarthy, Wonder Lake to Skwenta, or even Coldfoot to Kaktovik is something "normal" folks can do on their vacation time. By pushing the limits, extreme adventurers make what once seemed like a stretch now doable for the rest of us.
"If Andrew Skurka can do 4000 miles of wilderness travel in six months, then me and my buddies should be able to do 100 miles in six days, right?" Right!
I remember when Bachar hit the National spotlight with his incredible soloing. Just knowing what he was doing solo encouraged me do more in my own climbing. Seeing Tim Johnson roll his packraft inspired many of us -- some, like me, who may never be able to role it even if glued into my boat -- to put thighstraps in our boats and get far more control. The extremists in pushing their own extremist limits actually open up everyone else's horizons, too.
He and I have been emailing a bit about his route, which is certainly a reflection of his style: maximize trail-use (his winter route is the Alaskan wilderness equivalent of following a road -- nothing wrong with that!), travel long days, and long distances. He's embraced packrafting rivers and whitewater, and has won a Wilderness Classic, so averaging 20 miles a day for six months is doable (he averaged 30 miles a day for 200 days in his mash-up of Pacific Crest and Continental Divide Trails). He spent some time up here this past summer, walking and packrafting through south central, and got bit by the Alaska bug and showed that he's strong and smart enough to wander trail-less country effortlessly and efficiently.
His route might not be the route I'd choose, but it is his route and it's beautiful and ambitious and meaningful for the rest of us, too.
Five of us put thigh straps in our boats with Tracy Harmon’s supervision on Wednesday. We waited until Saturday, slightly longer than the 72 hour dry time, to go check out our new toys on Six Mile Creek at about 8.7 feet or 485 cfs.
It was fun to be with JT and hear him say “Let’s just skip the first canyon and run the second and third canyons,” as two years ago on Nov. 10, 2007 Becky, Tony, JT, Brad and I ran first and second canyons and my river notes record thatthey were hesitant to run the third canyon. How times change with skill and experience…..and how they will when more people start using thigh straps.
While nobody was able to repeat Timmy’s Eskimo roll (or his role, for that matter!), the straps make Six Mile at these low water levels almost easy. Minus my one mistake, we all had totally clean runs, including boofs in “Jaws”.
What really stood out was the incredible control and oneness with the boat.
“This is what kayakers miss in packrafts,” said JT, wiggling and pivoting with that big boyish grin of his.
I paddled open packrafts from 1983 to 2003, decked ones since then, and now these straps. They are at least as revolutionary as decks in terms of what you can do. Decks gave us control in bigger water since we weren’t just swamped and fighting for control. But these straps are even better.
Some of you may recall the early 1980s when Firesfirst came out. Remember that? The first time we got sticky rubber and we all started climbing a grade harder immediately? In fact, calling a +/- a grade in whitewater, I’d say these straps increased my ability by a grade. Six Mile was the easiest I’ve ever run it.
Control was incredible – I could put the boat almost anywhere. I could grab and ride smaller tongues than usual, brace more effectively, and catch eddies faster and with more authority – in fact flat water will be easier with these to brace against, too.
Busting out of holes requires aggression that you just can’t get flopping around unanchored in a boat. But with straps you can lean forward and grab and pull, “Like front-wheel drive,” someonesaid. Many of us have been working to wedge ourselves in to the boat, but tight thigh straps do it better.
And best of all my straps center me – I didn’t even use my back rest (it’s blown out anyway, with a shoddy valve job) and sat centered in the boat with the shortest paddle I have ever used (200 cm – as short as the Sawyer would go), able to reach forward and get good, aggressive powerful strokes. I am ready for 197 cm with big stiff blades, now.
I tipped in one of the worst parts of the river, and hit my head hard, maybe harder than I would’ve without straps-- although the gobs of Velcro I have keep me in, too -- but the straps slide off quickly and easily by straightening the legs.
It would be simple for Alpacka to put “custom mods” in their boats for people to purchase inflatable kayak thigh straps, like the Aire brand Deluxe Thigh Straps we used:On a Yak, a tie-down just above the valve stem and behind the second seam in the bow (calling the center seam the first) and close to the floor worked well for me following Tim Johnson’s lead.
Here’s a how to video. Hope it helps.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Shockingly I did some science this past weekend. Actually reviewed a thesis chapter and a manuscript for a journal. Didn't really do any data analysis though. back into this kinda gently, ya know?
Very satisfying, nevertheless.
But I got right back to the business at hand today.
And put thigh straps in two boats.
Thanks to Tracy at Alaska Raft and Kayak for supervising the glue-huffing party of five: Tony and Becky, JT and Luc, were there, too.
Here is my pick of the best recent You Tuber packrafting vids. I subscribe to these fun-loving filmakers who have been busy with their own hucking videos, the packrafting.blogspot "featured vids" for the month.
Keep 'em coming.
Most exotic and one I'd most like to do from "sunnyemotion" in Japan (nice fall colors and elated whoops, plus I am partial to the celebratory paddle raise a the end).
Todd Tumolo's packrafting partner "gqganey" in Vermont (maybe he could get another boat with thigh straps and loan his first one to some kayaker friend?).
Our own beloved pioneer "AlaskaCreeker" having a little fun with my first attempts at hucking on Tin Can (by the way my butt was OK -- somehow escaped unscathed from that dismount).
While we're at it I like this one of "rockymountainclimber" on the standard Bird Creek run which is my favorite helmet cam video yet and it's in B&W, adding to its coolness.
Over on the Alpacka Forum “Esben” posted a response to Tim Johnson’s Roll where he referenced “Paddling Regression”s comments on thigh straps:
Esben said,
“…we should not forget what Paddling Regression said in the thigh strap thread:
Paddling Regression wrote: ‘In a packraft, at least IMO, they seem like more than is necessary even at the upper end of whitewater. IMHO if you feel you need thigh straps you should probably think about improving your technique or further developing your skills. Weather it be reading the water better and seeing the clean lines and hitting them or simply spending more time in the raft, one needs to have skills. Given their design, there are just certain things that will be difficult no matter what you do. eg big holes on big water. These things are already about as idiot proof as it gets. Don't get me wrong, there are probably a hand full of people that could really push what is possible in a packraft with thigh straps, but for most it will simply be a substitute for skill and ultimately not help them in the long run. In fact I'd be willing to bet that most packrafters would not be able to roll a raft even if they were glued into the thing. It is certainly more difficult than a kayak by a long shot. Not to mention much harder on one's shoulders as well.’
Although vastly appreciating the benefits of it, I agree, the addition of this feature will distract from the simplicity, the core idea of packrafting.”
First off, idle speculation and opinion is not as valuable as first hand experience. Not sure exactly what Paddling Regression is running in his packraft, but having seen more than a dozen people in Class IV up to 5000cfs, I can tell you that these thigh straps are going to give all of us a much better time on whitewater. Bandersnatching will not be as nasty. Lateral waves, a frequent bane, may be more tolerable. Boofing will be easier, turning, carving and bracing much more effective.
My feeling, having only limited experience – like two minutes – in Tim's beefy thigh straps is that it’s like putting on rock shoes after climbing in mountain boots, like running in lace-ups vs. crocks. Sure we all need to improve our technique and further develop skills, but boy when I put on rigid crampons for the first time I was able to go where I’d not gone before, places even Yvon’s flatfooted French technique in flexible crampons coudn't have got Gaston Rebuffat.
As far as big holes in big water, these thigh braces may well give you the ability to muscle through them – now you have something to lever against, a way to hold onto your boat besides pushing with feet and back and using your paddle like a tripod.
Yes, Regression is probably right, most of us may not be able to roll the thing “even if glued into” it, but the control that the thigh straps give you will be sufficient to justify the 8 ounces or so of additional weight.
As for the core idea of packrating, I’d opine that the core idea is versatility divided by simplicity. Packrafts are the most versatile craft out there, by far. We all know you can fly around the world for long wilderness trips, battle your way down big rapids, thread your way down local congested creeks, cross icy fjords, pack bikes or game – all in the same boat. Thigh straps will not detract from that versatility. They may well enhance all of that, and they are removable. If you want simplicity, you can paddle an open boat without a seat, you’ll just be wetter, colder, and more out of control than a seated boat with a deck and thigh straps, and the boat will weigh under five pounds rather than seven.
Hig and Erin style flatwater likely does not need straps (but I don’t know as I generally avoid flat, dead water). Looking for caribou on easy water or long wilderness trips on canoe-style rivers, no straps needed – although they might make portages quicker using them as shoulder straps. But Grand Canyon? Steep creeks? You bet. I will swim far less often with these in my boat.
Claiming that “for most it will simply be a substitute for skill and ultimately not help them in the long run” is like saying skiers shouldn’t use fat skis and should learn to ski powder on boards with no side cut; that if you want to rock climb you should learn to hand jam wearing sneakers before you get rock shoes; that you should learn how to make rocky descents on a road bike, sharpening your handling skills that way, before getting fat tires; or that you should climb ice with soft boots and flexile crampons so you learn how to place tools in the right spots and hang from your bones before getting rigid boots and points.
While I am not a kayaker, I sort of doubt that kayakers develop skill and abilities by paddling a long, fiberglass boat with no flotation, no spray skirt, and no wet suit, to really be sure that they can read water and balance their boat and paddle the line before they let the creek boat, helmet, elbow pads, wet suit and all the rest substitute for skill. It’d be a good way to become skilled, but pretty frustrating.
I am continually amazed by how many people have more “HO”s about packrafts than they have time in the boats! The honest opinions about packrafts and self-bailing, about their durability, about their spray decks, about whitewater and big-water, what’s runnable and what’s a tube…. While pioneers are able to enjoy an exciting sense of discovery they also have to endure scorn and speculation.
Posts
