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First Descents
A section devoted to boaters telling stories of virgin river runs
Kennebec Gorge
After nearly drowning myself learning how to roll, I was ready to begin my paddling career. I was feeling pretty good in my borrowed
Redline, I already had one successful combat roll under my skirt ñ Black Brook wave train ñ so, why not head to the top of the Kennebec
for a go at it? After all, I know how to roll, right?
It was early in the evening and my nerves started to take charge. The water level was 6600 CFS, it was late June and the water was
still chilly. We were the only paddlers out there.
First of all, never underestimate the power of a support team when learning to boat. Three experienced paddlers put in with me,
offering advice and pointers as we passed the point of no return. One of them seal-launched off the big rock and I was convinced it was
the coolest thing, ever. Now (one year and a 100 Gorge trips laterÖ) I see it as a quick rush at the expense of hull plastic.
ìO.K., Amy, donít forget, high brace and low brace. And when you take a stroke, really lean into it. And when you roll, try not to
use your paddle so much.î
I felt my stomach churn. What the heck is a brace? Just ìyesî him to death. Maybe he will go away. Did I just pee my wetsuit?
So, I made it through the first wave at Taster. But boy is that second one tricky! It knocked me over. Upside down, even. Chock up
combat roll #2. As I recovered and the water cleared from every orifice of my face, I could hear the support team go wild. Cheers
eruptedÖ possibly a ìyou go girl.î
And then it began. Operation Windmill. My boat was pointed downstream and I paddled nonstop until the next wipeout. No
ferries, no eddies and definitely no bracing. Just plain paddle strokes. No real variation in speed. It was full throttle the whole time.
Things became a little pear-shaped around Whitewasher. Here is where the whole bracing would have been handy. I was straight until
some sort of rogue wave rocked my world. Upside down. Again. Chock up combat roll #3. This one earned some extra style pointsÖI
rolled up on the crest of Big Kahuna. The support team did their adrenaline pumping cheering thing again, as I paddled off down the
alleyway.
I could see Cathedral eddie and knew I needed to go right. Which, by the way, is really difficult when you donít know how to do
anything but paddle straight down river.
I tried to avoid pocket eddie, honest. But I hadnít the faintest idea on how to turn right. And then it happened. It ate me. Upside
down. After trying to roll 5 times I reluctantly went for the skirt. Chock up swim # 14. Rats. At least I have air. Bobbing next to my
boat, I was no longer a kayaker, but merely a helpless swimmer. I turned around to see no one. Where was my support team now?
The next 15 minutes went horribly. Trying to push my boat into an eddie. Eventually, one of my support team rounded the corner
and pushed me river left. After taking a look around we realized I couldnít get into my boat there and needed to go right. Complete
exhaustion. I became really angry at one of the support team and started yelling at him, I may have thrown something at him, although I
canít quite remember. I think I would rather dry hump sandpaper than go through that ordeal again.
The rest of the run went pretty smoothly and I was happy to have an almost successful run down the gorge. From there I became
captain of the Kennebec swim team. One day I swam three times (I took two runs from the top: one swim at Big Mamma, one swim at
Whitewasher and one swim at Magic); however, after swimming alongside expensive gear throughout the month of July, I finally began
running the river with me and my boat as one complete unit. And boy, it sure is more fun that way.
Email nick [at] noumbrella [dot] com with your questions, comments and concerns.
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