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     The races are over, and the rivers continue to flow as do our lives. This past winter had our crew buying houses, injured, or in job transition… so a big whitewater trip was not in the plans. Furthermore, with a dismal snow pack, levels were looking grim for spring sending opportunities. The only logical solution was to try and create a racing series. With Taylor Walker and the MaineRiverLife/Send It, ME alliance formed, we dropped in.

     The inspiration to create a racing series came from a lot of places, but some more important than others. One of them was No Umbrella and the cover shot of Karyn McMullin Roy sending “Faceplant” on Gulf Hagas around 2004 or 5, and their greater work in the whitewater community. Second, came from the West Branch of the Penobscot and its rich racing history, with people like Sam Bass, who not only won the first ever Race That Never Was, but sent first descents on rivers like the E. Branch of Salmon Stream. New England, and especially Maine, has a strong presence in the professional kayaking world, and our rivers here have been the training ground for many of us to kayak the world.

Thirty three racers took part in the August 4th, 2012 race at the West Branch Penobscot. Photograph by Taylor Walker.

     The competition of the 2012 Send It, Whitewater Racing Series was incredible, with all Northeast states represented (except NY). We had 28 racers on the K-Bomb – the Kennebec River gorge race – and 33 at the West Branch of the Penobscot race, including an international field with a strong Canadian presence. Also present, a super strong women’s contingent with a total of four women competitors in the entire series. Most Gorge/Crib Racers competed at the Kennebec stage, and sought the combined series championship of “The Biggest Sender”.

     The weather, safety crew, volunteers, and racers could not have added up any better.Their strengths created a vibe of professionalism and support. In the end Maine local William Mook emerged as the Biggest Sender, scoring the fastest combined time in both races. Jane Koopman was the ONLY woman to compete in both races, and not only dominated some serious competition on both rivers, but beat MOST of the men as well (She sends on creeks too!). Congratulations, and thanks to you both for pushing your limits and all of ours as well!

     The races were awesome, but the parties were epic. A huge part of the whitewater community is getting together and talking rivers over appropriate beverages. Thanks to the Marshall’s and The Venus Project for an awesome K-Bomb Party. The Penobscot Outdoor Center provided the perfect venue for West Branch racers – past, present and never – to pound mugs of beer and debate the finer points of sending in the shadow of Katahdin.

     We made no money on these events, and are proud to have kept it local. Thank you to Mike from Brookfield Renewable Power, Ernie at NextEra Energy, and the American Canoe Association for insurance (it was sooooo much paperwork). Our sponsors included Rafting Randy’s (and their work with Jackson Kayak), Ski Rack Sports, MaineKayak, New England Outdoor Center, The Marshall’s, The Venus Project and Taylor Walker’s Mom (this is not a joke, she really helped!). Ultimately, though, it came down to you: the racers and volunteers. Thank you so much for contributing to the races, we are going to send it even harder next year.

     In 2013, we want to make the series occur over one weekend instead of two. Expect multiple stages, and a BOATERCROSS! Our goal is to continue to pay tribute to Maine’s rich whitewater history, hold competitions that reflect the current practices in international whitewater extreme racing, and keep the races open to every whitewater boater who has the skill to race. We wish everyone a great Fall and Winter, and are looking forward to the Spring creeking season.

To view ALL Send It, Whitewater Racing Series Results please visit:
www.maineriverlife.com or facebook.com/SendItWhitewaterRacingSeries

…And for sending whitewater visit www.senditmaine.com
For inquiries on contributing for next year’s races please contact us at the above facebook page.

Peace,
Jeremy Cass “jcass”

Start with a cage containing five monkeys. Inside the cage, hang a banana on a string and place a set of stairs under it. Before long, a monkey will go to the stairs and start to climb towards the banana. As soon as he touches the stairs, spray all of the other monkeys with very cold high-pressure water. After a while, another monkey makes an attempt with the same result — all the other monkeys are sprayed with cold water. Pretty soon, when another monkey tries to climb the stairs, the other monkeys will try to prevent it.

Now, put away the cold water. Remove one monkey from the cage and replace it with a new one. The new monkey sees the banana and wants to climb the stairs. To his surprise and horror, all of the other monkeys attack him. After another attempt and attack, he knows that if he tries to climb the stairs, he will be assaulted. Next, remove another of the original five monkeys and replace it with a new one. The newcomer goes to the stairs and is attacked. The previous newcomer takes part in the punishment with enthusiasm!

Likewise, replace a third original monkey with a new one, then a fourth, then the fifth. Every time the newest monkey takes to the stairs, he is attacked. None of the monkeys that are beating him have any idea why they were not permitted to climb the stairs or why they are participating in the beating of the newest monkey. After replacing all the original monkeys, none of the remaining monkeys have ever been sprayed with cold water. Nevertheless, no monkey ever again approaches the stairs to try for the banana. Why not?

Because as far as they know that’s the way it’s always been done around here. And that, my friends, is how company policy begins.

(from flyanglersonline.com/lighterside/part206.htm) SHUTTLE RIDE SIMPSONS TRIVIA
1]Which of the following is not a sign from The Simpsons? A)“The Lucky Stiff funeral home. ‘We put the fun in funeral’” B)”Toxic Waste. Do not eat.” C)”Happy Hour: 5:00 to 5:30.” D)None of the above
2]Who said:”Not only am I not learning, I’m forgetting stuff I used to know.”? A)Barney B)Millhouse C)Homer D)Krusty
3]Which of the following Simpsons characters does not smoke? A)Nelson B)Krusty C)Barney D)Mrs Krabapple.
4] What state was Homer born in? A)North Carolina B)Maine C)Disarray D)Chicago
5]Who was the narrator for “The Raven” in Halloween Special I? A)Dr. Hubbard B)Grounskeeper Willie C)Sideshow Bob D)James Earl Jones
(answers in print edition) Letters to the Editor
SURF-A-THON RAISES $12,000 FOR CAMP SUSHINE
The Penobscot Paddle and Chowder Society (PPCS), a paddling club that draws its members primarily from Maine, held a successful fundraiser for charity on August 2 in the Forks. The event was called the Taylor Pelotte Surf-a-thon for Camp Sunshine.

Taylor Pelotte is the 9-year-old daughter of Greg and Sharon Pelotte, members of the PPCS. When she was diagnosed with cancer last fall, club members decided to hold a fundraising event on her family’s behalf. But the Pelottes asked that the money be raised for Camp Sunshine instead. Located on the shore of Sebago Lake in southern Maine, Camp Sunshine is a haven where families like the Pelottes can enjoy a respite from the physical, emotional, and financial stresses of dealing with cancer or other serious illness. Camp Sunshine’s week-long program includes recreational activities for the ill children and their brothers and sisters, counseling and workshops for parents, and other activities designed to help families cope with their situation while deriving strength and inspiration from others sharing similar experiences. Everything, including meals and lodging, is provided free of charge. The $1500 a week cost to host a family at Camp Sunshine is defrayed in large part by donations.

On August 6, over forty club members and friends dedicated the day’s paddle on the Dead River to Taylor Pelotte and Camp Sunshine. Paddlers raised money by soliciting pledges for the number of times they surfed a wave or for the distance that they paddled. Several paddlers made the Dead River run twice in one day. It was a tiring but very heartwarming way to spend a Saturday, made perfect because Taylor herself felt well enough that day to be at The Forks for the occasion.

After the day on the river, participants enjoyed a potluck dinner at The Forks Fish and Game Association hall. The PPCS wishes to extend a special thanks to that organization for the use of their building. Thanks also to Andy, Karen, and Ed Webb for hosting everyone at their campground; to the organizers of the Raft Guide Olympics, who pledged the proceeds of that event to Camp Sunshine; and to everyone who stopped by that weekend and threw some more money in the kitty.
Sincerely,
Kyle Duckworth
Surf-a-thon Coordinator ]]> http://noumbrella.com/nublog/outdoor-stories/ugly-box-of-random-delirious-funk-2/feed/ 0 http://noumbrella.com/nublog/outdoor-stories/river-blotter-6/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=river-blotter-6 http://noumbrella.com/nublog/outdoor-stories/river-blotter-6/#comments Fri, 27 Jul 2012 17:00:01 +0000 jeffrey.knox http://noumbrella.com/nublog/?p=3185 compiled by Nick Callanan

The 2003 Guide Olympics were held on August 17th at The Ballfield in West Forks, Maine. First there was the throw bag event. Many of the guides had excellent tosses, but others seemed to forget what they were aiming at. The next event was the raft climb. This event featured Ernie Deluca flipping himself backwards into the top raft of a five-raft stack. The final event was the raft stack: for professionals only. When the points were tallied at the end of the competitions there was a tie for second between Three Rivers and River Drivers (Three Rivers prevailed as the second place winner in a head-to-head Super Secret Boat Race competition), with the guides fromMoxie Outdoor Adventures taking home first place (although, at the time of the award presentation, the Guide Olympics Toilet Bowl Trophy was conspicuously missing.). As Guide Olympics champion, Moxie won 14 cubic yards of gravel donated by Dan MacDonald. Thanks to Wade from North American for organizing the event and to JC and The Pickups for playing another kickass party. Also, thanks to The Forks Fire Department for the use of their roomy circus tent. See you next year. Proceeds from the Guide Olympics went to benefit Camp Sunshine. (For more on Camp Sunshine seeKyle Duckworth’s Letter on page 3.)…On July 30th, many in the Penobscot River rafting community joined forces to raise money for Harold and Brenda McLain. Harold, who is ill with cancer, and Brenda have been working for rafting outfitters for over 15 years in the Katahdin area. Northern Outdoorsand Wilderness Rafting Expeditions donated all proceeds from raft trips on the Penobscot River on July 30th to the McLains to help cover the couple’s sudden increased expenses. Guides and bus drivers from six different companies donated their time and their tips. After the raft trip, a spaghetti dinner was held at Penobscot Outdoor Center to raise more money. All told, $5,000 was raised, said Suzie Hockmeyer, Northern Outdoors founder. She added, “It was nice to see the river community come together to help someone who has been a part of it for so long…It was cool. Very cool.”…The Video Carnage Awards were held on Tuesdy, August 19th at Penobscot Outdoor Center north of Millinocket. A raucous group of guides and paddlers cheered wildly throughout the video presentations. At the end of the presentations, a crowd survey was taken by emcee Joe McHenry to determine the winners. They are as follows: Best Video: Boz (Greg Bostater). Best Carnage: Snack (Dan Pasternak). Best Strippers: Snack. …Coming up on September 6 is Blues At The Forks, a concert on the shore of the Kennebec River in The Forks, featuring some of the region’s best blues musicians. For tickets usemainemusicevents.com, northernoutdoors.com or stop by Longley’s Store in The Forks.

Editors note: We had two poetry submissions and zero fiction submissions; so we made a last minute change to our Paddlers Always Write topic this issue. Be sure to check out the topics for next year in the lower right of this page.

Dropping Rocks, Dropping Shells
by Hutch Brown
She calls me to her. She says, Give me your hand. My palm
opens before me like she opens for me. In my palm she lays
a shell the more beautiful because it is from her
hand to mine. Together we stare and draw in each other’s
breath between the fall and
rise of waves and the sounds they make when they go in
and out like they do. Of course
it is beautiful, it’s a shell my
love chose. She leaves it in my hand and moves on her
hair blowing her head bowed. I take courage from the sea
and the way it runs and comes back despite itself, leaving some
collecting others. My pockets full of her shells and
her
rocks she bends again to the beach. Love, I say, what do you
want me to do with all
these ? I don’t know do I keep them or just look ? She
smiles at my maleness, always co-
llecting, counting, keeping track. They’re yours to do with
what you like. Chuck them or bury them. I just want to
show you what they look like. Later I watch her bend and
put
from her hand a rock like all the others. When she moved
on I stepped and bent closer.
I saw a place for this one nature herself would overlook.

Maine Table
by Hutch Brown

His brow carries the creases
of a cardboard box warped
by wind and rain and swept
to the road side. He sucks
his menthol, on his face the lines
severe in serious fold, writhe

as a mouthful of smoke hangs
for a beat, like smoke hung in
front of a mouth before it’s drug
back to its own in subtle sudden
need and then

“Life is the same all over,” he
says and finds his is nothing other.
“It just beats you down
you make money and it goes
it beats you down and you
never catch up.” I sit in
silence, nod.

His forehead winces quick guard
against smoke in the eye or when
clarity is sharp like sunlight through
the glass and all the ants come and go.
Exhaled breath another day gone down.

Lower River
by Cecil Gray
The white
sun of august, eclectic,
glints across many
small waves

before me; each
single sun spot burning
itself into my
heart. they are pure,

almost holy, and I
give them all to
you, for soon they
will leap from their

brief window to follow
the cusping tiger lily
on its sudden
road to fall

where memories wait
quietly in
the hollow lull
of season.

“Thanks”:
-First, to all our readers … yes!
-To our advertisers. We couldn’t have done it without you.
-To each of our over 250 distribution points. You guys rock.
-Also, thanks to everyone who taught a friend or a child how to hold a paddle, boat a new river, cast a fly rod or chuck a throw bag. It is you who keeps river sports moving safely forward.
-Thanks to everyone who bought No Umbrella subscriptions and/or T-Shirts. Your extra support adds karma to your library or T-Shirt drawer.
-Thanks, in addition, to everyone who recognizes what No Umbrella is and how it’s different and who went out of their way to talk up this publication. Much love.
-Special thanks to all the writers/artists/photographers who contributed work to No Umbrella this summer. By giving voice to yourselves through our resource, you make this publication what it is.
-Finally, extra special thanks to our kickass staff: Zeke Callanan, Support Manager and Will Hartman, Intern-extraordinaire. Of course, Kristen Kaiser, Art Director, Layout Editor, and Rock of Dependability, deserves the biggest gold medal. These people were ferociously responsible for helping me make No Umbrella happen. Tip your hat to them. Buy them a drink. Slap them on the bum.
-Oh! And thanks to the dictionary (and the spell-check function). Although you didn’t catch everything, No Umbrella was a helluva lot better off than without you.

“This Winter”:
-…when you’re sitting ’round the woodstove as the cold wind and snow beat on the clapboards outside, jot down your favorite river memory and send it on in to No Umbrella. We’ll check it for spelling; and before you know it, you might just be a published writer! (Photographs and artwork, too) If you have any qualms about sending in your work that need settling, or if you simply need a suggestion to get rolling, drop me an email to nick@noumbrella.com. For our full policy on submitting work, check out noumbrella.com/pub.shtml.
-In addition to story submissions, we welcome suggestions about how to make our publication/resource better. Also: collaboration proposals or whatever else you got up your sleeve.
-stay updated this winter at www.noumbrella.com.

“See you later.”

by Tom Christopher - American Whitewater Conservation Chair

The natural environments provided by watersheds are highly valued for their aesthetic, social, spiritual, and recreational value. They provide opportunities to pursue recreational and leisure opportunities ranging from hiking, cycling, and picnicking, to swimming, fishing, boating and a variety of other active and passive activities. Watersheds are home to a diversity of cultures, ethnic groups, and differing recreational interests. Outdoor recreation is one of the primary ways in which all people residing in a watershed area can react with the environment. This interaction with nature and human beings transcends generations and cultures, and is one way that connects people together as a society. In Maine this is especially true.
Watersheds also encompass a diversity of ownerships within their geographic boundaries. In many cases public ownership of lands by federal, state, or municipal entities provide conservation lands that include forests, meadows, lakes and river corridors that are accessible to the public for various forms of recreation. Many of these agencies also provide management plans to protect land from over-use, and some place limitations on certain activities such as all-terrain vehicles, snowmobiles, or river-users, and may charge a fee to support their enforcement practices. Passive activities like hiking, bird-watching, hunting or fishing are generally recognized as less damaging to natural resources and usually have few, if any restrictions placed on them.
Paper companies in Maine own vast tracts of land and historically have managed them to include public access. These lands in private ownership have changed owners multiple times in recent years and often constitute large areas within important watersheds. While many landowners have allowed recreational activities to take place on their property, some owners now charge fees for accessing the resources within their holdings.
When kayaking or canoeing on rivers one should avoid fishermen who usually prefer the quiet solitude of their own activity. Regardless of your activity you should extend a special effort to “leave no trace” connected to your visit to natural, undeveloped areas. Park in designated areas at access points and act courteously at all times. Use existing trails or campsites and make sure you pack out what you carried in, and dispose of human waste properly. Do all you can to protect resources and avoid disturbing wildlife during your visit. As much as we would like to view watershed recreation taking place in quiet woodlands and pastoral meadows, we must recognize that urban areas also provide recreational activities taking place in a watershed. Golf courses, tennis courts, athletic fields, and parklands are important areas for recreation in southern Maine and along the coast, but often may contribute to a number of negative environmental impacts to their watershed. In older, more heavily populated communities, open space may occur in a haphazard fashion, not having the benefit of the sound planning principles in use today. In newer communities the values of open space and areas for passive recreation are retained as core values, however homes adjacent to these areas often encroach, and people build fences, dump yard waste, cut trees, and otherwise contribute to fragmentation of the landscape.
In the urban landscape there also exist terrestrial and aquatic habitats, albeit substantially modified to accommodate a particular human recreational use. While it is important to retain natural vegetation, open space for recreation often includes plantings of non-native species that support a visual aesthetic and provides only limited natural habitat for native species. Golf courses often draw water from creeks and streams that have an impact on flow and fish habitat. Runoff from pesticide and fertilizer applications may exceed the ability of the natural system to assimilate these nutrients. Channelized watercourses and stream bank stabilization increases downstream flooding, and removing riparian vegetation elevates water temperatures, killing aquatic species. Publicly accessible open spaces in urbanized watershed areas usually include parking lots, and other highly erodible areas adjacent to athletic fields and parks. The storm water drainage from these areas is often directed straight to streams; either as overland flows or via storm drains and pipes. Most have no storm water controls, and thus the water volumes and pollutants that enter waterways are uncontrolled and contribute to in-stream erosion and water quality problems.
Maine is fortunate to have a broad diversity of recreational amenities throughout its borders. Our watersheds stretch from the Bigelow Mountains to the shores of Acadia, and sustain a rich biodiversity of plant and animal species. Recreation in both rural and urban settings provides our citizens with unique opportunities to pursue their interests in many ways. The key is to retain a sustainable, and publicly accessible, open space system that contributes to improvements in the ecological health of the watershed and improved social benefits. Watershed management is critical in balancing the human need to recreate with the ecological criteria necessary for a sustainable system that inevitably includes rural and urban recreational activities. Through close examination of the entire spectrum of recreational activities taking place in a watershed, proper planning can help to minimize human impacts on our watersheds.

Want to know more? Check out these clean river resources…
American Whitewater is a leading boaters-rights advocacy organization. Visit them online at:www.americanwhitewater.org	Maine Rivers’ mission is to protect, restore and enhance the health and vitality of Maine’s Rivers.www.mainerivers.org	River Network is a national leader in supporting grassroots river and watershed conservation groups.www.rivernetwork.org	RiverSmart is a national public education campaign helping Americans understand how daily water usage affects rivers. www.riversmart.orgwww.riversmart.org

While I can’t claim to be a native Mainer, I can boast that I know Maine as intimately as one can, being from Detroit (Michigan, that is). During my fifteen year stint as a “from-away” resident, I lived in most of the key Maine spots: Portland, Bar Harbor, Surry, Southwest Harbor, North Haven, Bangor, Greenbush (yep-if ya haven’t gone, ya got to—maybe my $25/month cabin is still there…), Camden, Rockland, Belgrade Lakes, Waterville, Old Town, Stillwater, Orono, and sundry other stops whenever my car overheated or I had to pee. Being a woman with many talents (came in handy, especially when trying to find a job in Maine), I found work as a gardener, nurse, teacher, waitress, bartender, and, yes, even as an unpublished writer. I melded into the Maine economy and adopted some of the Maine life-style as best as I could (I never could master a true “ayuh”, but my flannel shirts were wicked stylish). But, mainely (sic), I came to know the guts and spirit of Maine by exploring its woods via the Appalachian Trail, properly called “The A.T.”.
I am proud to say that I have hiked the A.T. from Grafton Notch to “Khtaadn”, the Thoreau spelling in The Maine Woods, in sections and in one continuous adventure. Whenever I meandered along the highs and lows of the Maine A.T., I marveled not only at the calm and silent beauty of the Maine forests, but also at the unobtrusive maintenance of the path. I appreciated the attempt to keep the A.T. pristine, yet safe; rugged, yet ecologically sound. My enjoyment of this segment of Maine outdoors was definitely enhanced thanks to the Maine Appalachian Club Trail Crews.
Like Thoreau, I eventually had to leave the Maine woods, he no doubt to go on a book tour, me to pay some bills. Yet, while I settled myself as a teacher in a different kind of wilderness, inner city Detroit, I missed the forests and the A.T. I wanted to reconnect with woods and green and rocks and black flies (unlike city drivers with road rage, they can’t kill you). I wanted to show my appreciation for my unforgettable experiences on the A.T. I wanted to become an A.T. crew member.
I decided to venture outside of the Maine A.T., to see how other parts of The Trail measured up. Virginia sounded good, being the keeper of the longest stretch (544miles). I contacted the Konnarock Club in Sugar Grove. The application process was simple enough: provide two references to verify my being fit (heck, I was a marathon runner, a middle school teacher, and a single mom with four sons) and a willingness to take risks (no problem here—I was a hitchhiking survivor); I also had to write a statement about my ability to work cooperatively with a group under extreme conditions (I still had my job, didn’t I? I didn’t explain the “single” part.). Anyway, I was accepted.
I received my info packet and prepared to arrive in Sugar Grove, Virginia on July 16. The drive from Detroit to Base Camp was uneventful, thanks to a rental car and Books-on-Tape. I tried my sister-in-law’s strategy for keeping hydrated without having to stop to pee every hour: eat grapes. It worked. From Route 81 West, I exited at #45 and coasted into Marion, VA., home to Mt. Rogers National Recreation Area and 10 miles from Sugar Grove. Hilly and historical , Marion looked like a sweet southern town. Plenty of grandly white porched homes, messy magnolias, mysterious dead-end streets. Only one pay phone, though. I needed to make one last connection with my husband before I hit the woods. He wasn’t home.

Onto Route 16 South, I followed the winding, rolling road to the Sugar Grove Diner, turned left on Flatridge Road, and found Base Camp on the right, just like they said in the brochure. My A.T. crew adventure had officially begun, whether I wanted it to or not; I couldn’t turn back just yet anyway— the rental was almost out of gas and I really had to pee.
The Mt. Rogers National Recreation Area shares its Sugar Grove Work Center with the Konnarock Crew. Rustic but ample, the main building consists of the dining/rec room, office, and an impressive tool room. Other buildings include: a huge kitchen fully equipped with enough refrigerators and storage units to provide the much appreciated sustenance necessary for the Crew Weeks, two shower and bath houses, and a scattering of simple cabins called “pods” where crew members sleep while at Base Camp.
After a tasty and satisfying dinner, we ten crew members assembled for an orientation session. We introduced ourselves and settled into listening to our crew leaders, Jason and Ted, describe what would be our duties for the next week. Our task was to tackle a relocation project near the Blue Ridge Parkway Trail and the Priest, four hours (by van) northeast to Buena Vista, Virginia, nestled in the George Washington National Forest. Our campsite would be about two miles from the work site. It would be strenuous and difficult work, mostly clearing brush, “ side-hillin’, findin’ & diggin’ & movin’ rocks, BIG rocks”. Jason and Ted discussed safety issues (“If ya see a bear, for god’s sakes, don’t holler-it’ll scare ‘em away”;” there’s only two kinds of snakes ‘round here and ya ain’t gonna die from neither of ‘em bitin’ ya”), camp protocol (“everybody takes a turn at cookin’ ‘cept the crew leaders—we just eat.”), and the finesse of preparin’ and visitin’ The Privy (“if you’re the last one to fill the trench, dig another section, but don’t get any shit on the pick”).
We rolled out of Base Camp next morning by 8 AM, twelve adults stuffed into an official United States Government Forest Service van with enough food, tools, and camping gear for one week. A diverse group were we: Paul, a stock broker; Geron and Bob, two fourth grade teachers (husband and wife); Larry, a retired Exxon manager; Frank, a retired cartographer; Joe, a retired machinist; Sam, a divorce attorney; Kara, an Enlish instructor; and Bruce, a new college graduate—all with a common desire to sweat and toil on the A.T.
We headed north on Route 81 and stopped half-way at a Krispy Kreme donut shop (Jason loaded up on three donuts and a Mountain Dew—it was his turn to drive) With about five miles to go, Jason turned off the main drag onto a rough, single-lane road that would be our way into the National Forest. The scenery was stunningly serene and diverse: thick woods, bursts of wildflowers, random clearings for small farms, scattered herds of cattle. Suddenly, Jason braked hard. “Dammit, we got a flat. I thought that cicada sounded pretty loud.” Seemed the “cicada” was two whistling holes in the right rear tire. Gear and people oozed out of the van. Luckily, our fearless crew leaders had changed tires before and didn’t seem to mind all the advice from those of us watching. We were on our way in no time. Although we now had no spare, we rallied with plenty of good humor, enthusiasm and positive spirit, a trend that would define our crew for the next few days.
The work began the minute the van stopped at our camp, and ended when we arrived back at Base Camp six days later. That week on the A.T. brought me heads up against what I hoped my body would be able to do. I had prepared as best as I could— I had hiked miles with my boots and a pack in addition to my regular rather rigorous exercising. It helped; I felt physically fit and mentally positive each and every day. I was the first one up to make the coffee, and, my cheeriness was even tolerated by those rising a bit later. That’s how accommodating and hell-bent on getting along our crew proved to be.
Each morning we hoisted on our day packs, filled with snacks, lunch, gloves, rain gear, and water and hiked two miles up the Ridgeway to the switchback. We would then commence our work for the day in whatever group Jason and Ted assigned us. I mostly worked with The Rocks. I helped build a ten boulder staircase. It was a thing of utmost beauty, and it proved its worth. We only had to rebuild it six times, thanks to Jason’s high standards. Cooperation and team effort were key factors in progressing toward the goal of finishing the relocation project. Moving when someone yelled “ROCK!!!” also was paramount. Break times were an essential part of the eight-hour day, a time when we all re-revved for the rest of the work. Knowing The Tools was important (god forbid you bring a Pulaski when what is urgently needed is a Pick while a 200 pound rock is being held up). Understanding, and practicing, the philosophy “leave no trace” became the trade-mark answer to any question of “what do I do with this?”
Living and working in the woods with a group of people one has never met might seem daunting to some, downright unimaginable to many. I took it all in stride, as part of that road seldom traveled. I went, after all, to do something different than be surrounded by pavement and screeching cars. Skinny dipping in a spring fed pond after a week of no showering, trusting the hands holding a huge rock above your head would indeed hold, and sharing an outdoor poop station with strangers made them seem less strange; heck, it was more intimate than most of my dealings with people in Detroit. And being intimate with Nature (which, of course, includes people) was exactly what I needed, and wanted.
Now that I am back in Detroit, I feel rejuvenated. I see traces of people everywhere, and I pick up even more trash than I did before. I notice the shapes of side-hills; I eye rocks and boulders imagining their place in a rock stair; I want to thank all the Pulaski families in Hamtramck; I wear my A.T. crew shirt to church; I am researching the benefits of human manure in compost. Best of all, I plan to go back next year.

We were a group of eight paddlers, setting out to run the Upper-Upper section of the Río Pacuare outside of Turrialba, Costa Rica. The plan was to drive to this hidden farm, rent horses for the 2-hour hike to the put-in, and paddle 8 miles of great Costa Rican whitewater. That morning we woke up to the sound of raindrops on the tin roof, always a good start to a paddling trip…
Diego, our Costa Rican shuttle driver, picked us up at 8am at the house of the family we had been staying with. Along with Diego was a group of super solid paddlers from all over the world, including Norway, Israel and Costa Rica. We loaded boats and set out on the bumpy roads to find that hidden farm. I was under the impression that we were going to rent horses to bring us to the river. Well, one look at those horses and I felt bad even trying to have them carry paddles. So we decided against the horses and figured hiking couldn’t be that bad.

So we grabbed our gear and started up the hill. The first 100ft. or so was ok, but then we hit serious 8-10inches of mud and who knows what else. I took a quick breather and realized that my husband Jay and I were the only ones still wearing our sandals. Everyone else had either lost of broken theirs in the hike. To top it off, the skies had cleared and it was “wicked hot!”
So after we realized that we were not climbing a hill, but a rather large mountain, it had been a good two hours of hard, back breaking, boat carrying hiking. We still had no signs of a river nearby, so we kept on trucking down this old road for what seemed an eternity. Finally we ran into a local on a horse who said we were close but we would have to climb down this ridge because we were too high on the mountain. Just lovely. By this point we were all dragging the boats with Thule straps. We started to hike down this really steep goat path when the rains started up again. I must say that the phrase, “when it rains, it pours”, originally came from Costa Rica. Our steep little goat path turned into a slippery mudslide before long and we ran into some species of killer ants along the way.
Finally we had sight of a riverbed, and followed until it eventually led us to the put-in, well some put-in at least. We weren’t positive, but believed we had finally reached the Upper-Upper section of the Río Pacuare. We were all stoked to have reached the river, but soon after realized it was 1pm and it would be getting dark in four hours. So we jumped in our kayaks and tackled the rapids downstream. No one in our group had been on this section of the Pacuare before, but we had a super solid group with Jay Roy and Mariann Saether being our probes.
Overall the run is said to be pretty mellow, however when you mix torrential rains and steep Costa Rican hillsides, you get an amazingly fast changing river. All the tributaries filled in and soon enough flowed from just about everywhere. In my three months in Costa Rica I definitely learned that brown, super muddy water is much harder to read! The flooding river washed out some rapids but of course made others more challenging. Scouting became less and less possible because of our daylight issues and because most of the worlds poisonous snakes live along the Costa Rican riverbeds.
We finally reached the takeout as it was just about dark and everyone was really happy to have made it safely back to the shuttle vehicle. Relived and tired we loaded back into the van and headed to Pocho’s bar for una cerveza y una boca. Can’t beat a cold Pilsen after a long, hard day on the river.
Tackling the Upper-Upper section of the Pacuare River was a super fun experience, probably something we will do once, but it left us with some great stories to tell. The river had it all, from wildlife to exciting rapids, it was the full jungle experience. Costa Rica is one of the best paddling destinations I’ve ever been to and even living there for 3 months, we hardly scratched the surface of what can be done there. If you want some epic paddling, grab a flight to San José, hop a bus to Turrialba and you and in a paddling paradise. As they say in Costa Rica, PURA VIDA.

The Maine drought is officially over, according to maps on theNational Drought Mitigation Center’s website (www.drought.unl.edu). Thanks to early August’s consistently rainy weather, the majority of the state has been upgraded from “D1 Drought-Moderate” to “Abnormally Dry.”… [Dan Pianoreports on the Deerfield Riverfest]: “Once again American Whitewater put together a hell of a good time at this year’s Deerfield River Festival. The weather worked out and the competitions went off with out a hitch. Jim Sullivan won the Dragon’s Tooth Rodeo once again, followed by Mark “Chopper” Cecchini in second place and John Kennedy in third. Jim pulled it off once again by flawlessly pulling together a smooth combination of moves. One such move to be noted was the cartwheels he threw in the “death slot” hole. In the Women’s Dragon’s Tooth Rodeo, Kim Seaman took first with Elaine Trahan taking second. In the Boater Cross, Fergus Coffeytook first, followed by Cecchini and Richard Stokes . And in the Ruler of the Gap competition Barry Jasper took home first followed by the mighty Charles Kennedy and Mike Brindamour. In addition, there were throw bag contests, free beer for AW members, and some quality games of Nails. The fest also had a premier of Lunch Video Magazine’s new issue as well as Paddlefest 2k2 NZED. Every year the fest get better and better, hope to see you there next year.” For more info on the fest check out www.americanwhitewater.org/events/… Congratulations to Garrett Martin and Hillary Ohmart, the first Guides’ Prom King and Queen. They each won a No Umbrella T-Shirt. The event was hosted by Enchanted Outfitters.

Rants and Raves from a Kayaker’s Girlfriend
by Colleen Lyon
Is it me or the river??? Even if that were a fair question to ask I think I could probably guess the answer. He’s been in love with the river for most of his life, and me, well, it’s only been four years and that’s pushing it. He even once confided that surfing a wave is as good as sex. Go figure. A kiss is just a kiss, but awwww shit, bustin’ blunts is pure bliss. Since the day our paths first crossed on a small college campus in Vermont, I guess I should have picked up on a few things that would have let me know going out with a kayaker was going in way over my head.
-The warning lights should start flashing when you get into an old Volvo with a guy who has two kayaks, two bikes, and a pair of skis strapped to the roof. Buckle up. You are now entering the extreme.
-In the confined spaces of a college dorm room, a guy who builds a loft just for his boats and has a nearly life size framed photograph of himself kayaking hanging up next to his bed alongside a plethora of paddling posters is a guy who’s got serious obsession issues.
-If your first romantic evening together consists of back massages, tickle fights, and watching a Wave Sport promotional video, then you might as well kiss all your preconceived notions of romance goodbye. But I was oblivious and fell in love anyway. Eventually I realized that his life really does revolve around kayaking, but at this point of our relationship, of our lives, of our rollercoaster ride, it would be really lame to make him choose between his boat and his babe.
It still runs through my head sometimes…is it me or the river??? Even if I was ever foolish enough to hand him that threat, you can bet he would be out the door with his big red bucket full of paddling paraphernalia, securing his roof straps, blasting White Zombie, leaving me in the dust. He says I’m too independent. Maybe it’s just my self-defense, for I never know the next time he’s gonna take off for the river in a blur. And don’t think because it’s after dark he won’t go. They brought spotlights one time.
Well, at least I know if I ever get sick of competing with the lure of the river all I have to is pop the question to get rid of him! You can only put up with so much. I can only speak from my personal experience, but here’s just a little taste of what I have to deal with:
Self-Righteousness. What is the deal with kayakers thinking they have some superior claim to existence over the rest of us? “You’ll never understand. You don’t even know what you’re missing.” Why is the joy from having an epic run on the river or throwing eleven cartwheels in a row so much better than the joy I get from walking through a field of wildflowers or dancing in the rain? Joy is joy, to each his own. Whatever floats your boat, whatever tickles your pickle, whatever satisfies your soul…that’s what matters. No need for the almighty attitude.
The Fam.
My relatives are always raving about how awesome and adventurous the kayaker boyfriend is and get all giddy telling him, “Oooooh you’re so crazy!” It gets old real quick. Believe me, he can toot his own whistle.
The Video Cam.
I won’t go into the details of motherboards, firewires, and the art of making digital films, but since the purchase of the video camera, I have lost even more time with him due to the endless, brain-numbing hours of editing kayak clips.
Traveling
When are we ever supposed to travel together when our travel plans consist of me going on hikes while he goes kayaking? Not to mention, all you kayakers know the hassles of lugging a big ol’ boat around everywhere you go.
Under Pressure
Is it me, or do kayakers put an intense pressure on their girlfriends to become kayaker chicks? I’ve tried. It’s stressful. It’s expensive to start and it takes a long time to get good or even to the point where you’re not completely freaked out by it. Besides, boyfriends teaching girlfriends probably isn’t the best idea anyway. I won’t lie, our first couple of lessons were a real good time, even though he didn’t explain things clearly and then started yelling at me to pay attention or else I’d die. But really, we had fun, and I now better appreciate the beauty, force, and grace of the river. But let’s be honest, I would be much more happy and content just splashing around barefoot in a creek, with big rocks to jump on, and little waterfalls to sit in.
Addiction
Should I really be hanging around with a guy who is “liquid addicted” and meets up with an “aquaholics” group once a week?
Priorities
How about a boyfriend who complains about driving an hour and a half to your house but totally willingly drives 7 hours up to the Ottawa on Friday to paddle Saturday then drive back 7 hours to Connecticut on Sunday? I’m still waiting for a reasonable explanation to that one.
Yeah, so it really stinks sometimes. I’ll always be an outsider to this whole river cult phenomenon. I’m the girl at the kayak festivals twirling her hair, making flower wreaths, and playing with people’s dogs while everyone else gets deep into kayak conversation. It’s frustrating when all his passion and excitement seem to go only to kayaking. The stupid river is hogging it all.
Really though, I am glad he is a kayaker. It’s lots of fun to watch especially when he actually looks up and smiles once in a while. I love the way his eyes light up like a little kid when he tells me about his day on the river. I love his 80’s florescent blue and neon green dry-top. I really love the little wet clumps of hair that stick up out of the holes in his helmet. And if he didn’t kayak then I would have never gotten the chance to sled down a sand dune in one. But he doesn’t have to do a helix, go pro, or nearly kill himself to impress me. He’s already got that covered. Although, he is defined by kayaking, I love enough about him otherwise to take him paddle in hand or not.
As long as he doesn’t forget about the passion in life’s simple pleasures, I will be supportive of the river obsession. As long as we keep on challenging, inspiring and driving each other the good and the bad crazy, it will keep things interesting. And as long as he doesn’t make we wear those stupid stinky booties ever again…things will be good. Is it me or the river???
Lucky for the boy, I’ll never force him to make that choice. If I have learned anything from life and from kicking back with a kayaker, it is that there are no promises, no commitments, no answers, no absolutes, no regrets, no forevers. It’s all about getting pushed to the extremes of love, anger, passion, laughter, frustration, pure joy, and pure madness. Everyday is a new day. You never know what’s going to happen or what you’re going to get.
I say lets keep it that way.
Cheers to spontaneity, insecurity, and unpredictability.
Cheers to being young and free.
Let’s pray to the river gods to keep all you crazy kayakers safe and to give us all the ability to float like magic over the sketchiest and most sacred stuff that comes our way.

My Boyfriend’s Love Affair
By Nicole Wheeler

Somebody HELP!
My boyfriend is in love with someone else!
She’s about 5 1/2 ft. tall, weighs 30 pounds; she’s orange and her names SKIP! I just don’t get it, after 6 years he’s leaving me for something he calls an “H2Ogasm!” Four years ago, well four summers ago, Nick and I decided to move up here to his camp on Moxie Lake. He wanted to be a whitewater raft guide and I just wanted to be anywhere he was! Being a girly girl from the city it was really hard for me to get used to no electricity, no running water and Nick’s “river guide” STINK! But I got used to it and I actually think I miss it during the winter (maybe that’s going a little too far!) After he did the guide training, he decided to work for Moxie Outdoors as a guide and then a video boater! He asked me if I thought I would want to work there too. ME, a river guide? I DON’T THINK SO! So I applied to work for Moxie’s cooking and cleaning positions. Everything was perfect, we lived together, worked together and living up here was actually growing on me…until Nick started kayaking and then I never saw him again! Two summers ago he bought a Riot Dominatrix (without ever seeing it or even knowing what it was, I thought he was getting all kinky on me and hired a prostitute or something.) Well, it was close enough; this kayak actually had boobs on the back of it!! He paddled that all around Maine and Montana and I’ve even taken a picture of him on the Southern Rim of the Grand Canyon in it – he said it was for effect!)
So, this year Nick decided it was just about time for a new kayak so after multiple trips to Bangor and maxing out our credit card…Nick came home with an orange Liquid Logic “Skip” boat…that he’s crazy in love with (But still hasn’t sold his old dominatrix baby yet, anyone looking to buy it?)
So here I am all alone, writing this article, missing my Bubby, hoping he’ll see this and maybe come home! Hmm…fat chance! Where do you think he is right now? Oh you guessed it, paddling down the Kennebec River once again! Love is such a wonderful thing, isn’t it!

Love and the River
By Jeffrey Russell
Love is the River
Placid
Comforting
Quickening
Surging
Raging
Frightening
Inspiring
Exhausting
Slowing, quieting, receding into peace
Ever-changing, ever the same
Flowing through our veins
The river is in us as we are in it

…Like the thrill of a first date, that first encounter with a raging river electrifies us with fear, excitement, and anticipation. That first experience is alive with all the hopes, dreams, and longings of a new potential lover. Some yearn deeply and return for more at the earliest opportunity. Meanwhile, others (probably those not reading from this mag) are too overwhelmed, intimidated, or simply find that this date is not for them and never call back. Those who do succumb to the call of the wildwaters make the transition from river virgins to “experienced” gradually, gaining with each encounter in familiarity and assurance. We gain trust that our new love will not dash us against the rocks, leaving our vulnerability exposed like a bleeding heart to be pecked by the ravenous, merciless ravens peering down from the dead treetops. Our love rises and falls, struggles with ups and downs. We battle as we seek to understand all the intricacies, the nuances that seem to defy logic. We find joy as we dance gracefully with the currents that take us to new places we’d never been before. As our love matures, we find comfort, reassurance…nourishment in knowing the river. We play, we laugh, we love…the river satisfies our soul.

Patrick Paddles a Prijon on the Payette
By Kristie Miller
One summer, not long ago . . .
When I was still learning how to roll,
I met a guy In a rusty Jeep.
Friendly and nice;
He wasn’t a creep.
He helped me learn
To surf and eddy turn.
FOR to Paddle and Boat—
He thought Divine
And the same he thought of
My Behind!

One my high school friends who has come rafting with me a bunch of times expressed interest in learning to whitewater kayak.
And like any encouraging friend, I loaned him my kayak and equipment, dropped him off at the top of the Kennebec Gorge and said, “Go for it! You’ll be fine!” Then I got into my truck and headed to the nearest phone booth to tell his mother of her son’s unfortunate demise.
No, seriously. I would not recommend paddling in whitewater until you can roll your boat up 50 times on your left and 50 times on your right without a missed roll. Otherwise, the first time you paddle out into whitewater, you’ll suddenly find yourself upside down in the water with rocks and riverbed flying by your face. You’ll think: “I can’t breathe. I can’t scream for help. And I can’t find Nick anywhere to strangle his dumb ass!” Then you will pull your spray skirt and you will be participating in a sport related to, but nowhere near as much fun as whitewater kayaking. This sport is known as whitewater swimming. And believe me, after you try the exciting sport of whitewater swimming a couple times, you’ll be ready to give up on whitewater kayaking.
I took my brother Zeke out for his first rolling lesson a couple weeks ago. He is a first year rafting guide with North Country Rivers. Although new to the river scene, Zeke, two years younger than me, has always been better around water than I: He used to be on the swim team in middle school, he actually taught me how to dive headfirst and now he’s picked up guiding a hell of a lot faster than I did five years ago (to my credit, I still tool on him in hoops and cribbage…).
Anyway, we brought my boat and gear out to the public swimming area on the other side of Wyman Lake and I gave him a few pointers (before I continue, I must say: after weighing my pride against the prospect of having a family member to kayak with, I really do want my brother to succeed as quickly as possible at whitewater kayaking. This was not going to be an exercise in revenge):
“Okay, hot shot. We are only going to be out here until you get frustrated, or I get sick of looking at you. This is supposed to be fun, so as soon as it isn’t, we’re done for the day.
“Secondly, chill out. Take a deep breath. Relax your body, especially your hips, and relax your mind. We are in three feet of water and you will be fine.
“Now. You need to be comfortable underwater. I want you to flip over in the kayak and count to 45 while you’re underwater. While you’re counting, look around, listen to the water and accustom yourself to being upside down in the boat. Then, pull your skirt and I’ll see you back up here on the surface.”
After Zeke’s first out-of-kayak experience, we floated the boat to shore, dumped out the water and he secured himself into it once again.
“All right, Zeke. I want you to explain to me, in words, what needs to happen in order for you to successfully roll this kayak.”
This was the most important step in my own personal journey from kayaking wuss to kayaking wuss with a roll.
“Uh, basically I reach out of the water with the whole paddle, rotate it so the face of the power blade bites on the water, then stroke downwards while I roll my hips upward towards the sky.”
I had loaned Zeke a copy of William Nealy’s Kayak to study a week earlier and he had obviously read it.
“You got it, Bub. Now, when you roll over this time, I’ll be standing next to you in the water and holding your power blade, and you’re going to practice the hip movement using my hands for leverage instead of the water. We’re going to do this a few times.”
We did. The first couple times, Zeke barely managed to muscle himself back upright. I told him to relax his hips and to practice gyrating back and forth along his hip axis. Zeke obliged and began rocking to and fro, into the water and out of the water, very quickly. This scene must have appeared strange – two grown (in body) men with odd-looking instruments dancing together in the water – because as soon as we began, four gaping children were quickly herded into a minivan by their mother and sped away to safety. Don’t forget your seatbelts kids. Despite the unorthodox visual effect, this exercise seemed to help my brother, because during the next few attempts I felt much less resistance from his blade, meaning he was using more finesse than muscle.
“Okay Zeke, next exercise. Now, you are going to roll over and put your hands into the ‘set up’ position and then let me guide them to where they need to be. You should be watching where I put them from underwater. When I let go, roll up! Okay? Go!!”
He flipped over and stuck his hands out of the water so his paddle was parallel to his boat. I grabbed his hands and helped him to rotate the paddle until it was perpendicular to his boat, but still out of the water. Then I let go.
He pulled down on his power blade, rolled his hips upward and – just when I thought he might get his first roll – Zeke suddenly craned his head out of the water, sucking for oxygen, and killing any chances of a successful roll. The boat immediately flipped back over, submerging him. I grabbed his blade and helped him to resurface without wet-exiting.
“Dude. You almost had it. All you have to do is keep your head down. Relax, and keep your head pinned to your right shoulder [he was rolling on his right side].”
We tried this exercise a few more times before I felt comfortable that Zeke at least understood the basic mechanics of his right handed C to C roll. In the midst of these attempts, he figured out how to use the lake’s floor as leverage, so I stopped standing beside him and began to skip rocks.
He calmly flipped over five times, each time missing a roll, and each time using the floor to roll up. I told him not to rush his movements.
Then on his sixth try, Zeke exaggerated each of the steps: flip over, set up hands to be out of the water and parallel to the boat, rotate paddle until shaft is perpendicular to the boat, pull power blade down and roll hips upward while keeping head pinned to shoulder.
He rolled up with ease. I lost it.
“Yo, you just accomplished in 30 minutes what it took me 30 days to figure out. That’s it. Get the hell out of my boat. We’re going home.”

-Definitely bring something to sell. Everyone up there at the Phish concert at Loring Commerce Center in Limestone over the weekend of August 2 and 3 was selling or buying something: grilled cheese sandwiches, Newcastle bottled beer, T-shirts, Red Bull, Posters, fatty veggie burritos, mushroom chocolates, jewelry, woodcut prints, glass pipes, Headies, steak and cheese sandwiches, bottled beer, margaritas, back massages, pony rides and more. And out of the 70,000 folks up there selling and buying, only about 30 seemed legitimate enough to have vendor’s licenses.
-A slogan. If you were selling something, you needed a catch phrase to get people to stop and take notice. For example: “Ice cold cans of Red Bull … Drink ‘em or put ‘em on your nuts!!”
That guy sold out 12 cases in about two hours.
-No Kegs. The security up there wouldn’t let my buddy through with his dump truck full of nine kegs (go figure), but they said he would have been fine had he had nine kegs worth of beer in bottles or cans. Must be something about wanting to pick up all those 5 cent returnables.
-A motor scooter/moped/mountain bike/skateboard/roller skates/anything with wheels. We got there early and we still camped about 1.5 miles from the stage. Plus, when I saw friends at the concert and they said were camped in, say, section ZZ, wheels would have been nice so I could have visited them without having to pack two meals.
My friend Dan, sick of walking, talked a dude into letting him hop onto his miniature Ducati motorcycle. Dan was tearing up and down the airstrip until a slight lapse caused him to flip head over heels sending the tiny bike flying. When I caught up with him later, however, he’d washed off the blood and was all smiles. “You seen that dude with the Ducati,” he asked hopefully. “I want another ride.” That’s a Maine raft guide for you.
-A porta-potty. Clean ones were worth better than gold. I actually saw a guy who did bring his own porta-potty to the show in the back of a small pickup. When I saw him, he was standing in front of the door as if he was guarding it. I went up and asked him if he was charging people to use it. “No, but I should have. I woulda made 100 bucks if I had a dollar for every person who’s asked me to use it.”
-Goulashes. Mud was a force at the Phish show.
-Two-way radios. These instruments were way more fun than they were necessary: “CHICKENHEAD, you got your ears on?” “Go ahead DUFFMAN.” “Yea, I am back at the camp site… I have visual contact with an unidentified subject who is using the inside of your tent as his personal porta-potty – oh! it looks like he has switched to the inside of your cooler, CHICKENHEAD. You may want to come down here and secure your things…” “DUFFMAN, you are, indeed, a jerk.”
-Patience. The lines to get in and out of the camping area were disgustingly long. One person I talked to had to wait in traffic for 15 hours to go the last 6 miles to get to his campsite, and 13 hours on his way out of the venue.
-A flag and a tall flagpole. There is no easier way to find your campsite than to have the colors of No Umbrella or the Wu Tang Clan flying high above it.
-Binoculars. 70,000 people in one confined area .. I could have people-watched for hours. Not to mention, it would have been nice to have actually seen the band … at least I could hear them pretty well.

by Tom Christopher - American Whitewater Conservation Chair

Rivers and streams are the circulatory systems of our watersheds. They transport freshwater, nutrients and sediment from land to sea; and link and sustain virtually all types of ecosystems. In Maine, rivers support a tremendous diversity of life, and form migration corridors for all sorts of aquatic species and terrestrial wildlife. Plant, insect, invertebrate, and fish species abound in healthy river systems in well-protected watersheds. Approximately one half of our nation’s drinking water supply comes from rivers.
There are thousands of dams and impoundments located throughout the watersheds of Maine, as well as flow diversions and canals which remove water from natural riverbeds for hydropower generation, irrigation, and other purposes. Many of these dams were built before the 1900′s during our nation’s industrial revolution and have long since been abandoned by their owners as no longer useful. Paper companies, hydropower generators and sometimes federal, state, or municipal agencies own these dams, but often many private owners have died, transferred ownership, or have moved away, leaving old structures to deteriorate and sometimes collapse.
Among all the development threats to rivers in our watersheds, dams rank as the first and most persistent alteration to riverine ecosystems. Summarized below are some of the most easily recognized detrimental effects caused by dams.
Dams reduce river levels. By diverting water for power, dams remove water needed for healthy in-stream ecosystems. Stretches below dams can be completely devoid of water with the exception of minor leakage, totally destroying aquatic and riparian habitat.
Dams slow the flow of rivers. By decreasing the rate of water flow many fish species such as salmon depend on seasonal high flows to flush them downriver early in their lifestages, and guide them upstream years later to spawn. Fish passage structures can enable some fish to pass around a dam, but multiple dams along a river jeopardize even those species able to use such structures. In addition, stagnant reservoir pools disorient migrating fish and significantly increase the duration of the migratory pattern.
Dams alter water temperatures. By slowing water flow, most dams increase water temperatures. Other dams decrease temperatures by releasing cooled water from reservoir bottoms. Fish and other species are sensitive to these temperature irregularities, which can damage native populations. Dams alter timing of flows. By withholding and then releasing water to generate power for peak demand periods, dams cause downstream stretches to alternate between no water and powerful surges that erode soil, vegetation, and flood or strand both aquatic and mammalian species. These irregular releases also destroy natural seasonal flow variations that trigger growth and reproductive cycles in many species.
Dams fluctuate reservoir levels. Peaking power operations can cause dramatic changes in reservoir water levels – often up to 40 feet – which degrade shorelines and disturb fisheries, waterfowl, and bottom-dwelling organisms. Fluctuating levels cause methylization of organic mercury which accumulates in the food chain and can affect fish, wildlife, and humans that utilize different species as a food source.
Dams hold back silt, debris, and nutrients. By slowing flows, dams allow silt to collect on river bottoms and bury fish spawning habitat. Silt trapped above dams accumulates heavy metals and other pollutants. Gravel, logs, and other debris are also trapped by dams eliminating their use downstream as food and habitat.
Dam turbines cut up fish. Following currents downstream, fish are drawn into and cut up by power turbines. In some cases when fish are trucked or barged around dams to avoid turbines, they experience increased stress and disease and decreased homing instincts when returning to the rivers to spawn.
Dams increase predator risk. Warm, murky reservoirs often favor predators of naturally occurring species. In addition, passage through fish ladders or turbines can injure or stun fish, making them easy prey for flying predators like gulls and herons.
Further examination of the damages caused by the existence of dams in Maine reveals an endless litany of very specific impacts to hundreds of plant, animal and aquatic species. Combining the cumulative effects of these damages within ecosystems throughout Maine’s watersheds, there exists a scenario that provides myriad resource impacts that need to be addressed. Workable long term watershed protection strategies need to include consideration of dam removal.

Want to know more? Check out these clean river resources…
American Whitewater is a leading boaters-rights advocacy organization. Visit them online at:www.americanwhitewater.org	Maine Rivers’ mission is to protect, restore and enhance the health and vitality of Maine’s Rivers.www.mainerivers.org	River Network is a national leader in supporting grassroots river and watershed conservation groups.www.rivernetwork.org	RiverSmart is a national public education campaign helping Americans understand how daily water usage affects rivers. www.riversmart.orgwww.riversmart.org

On an overcast day back in mid-May, 1996, I pulled into the parking lot of the Big Moose Inn on Millinocket Lake. It was the evening before the first day of guide training for Unicorn Expeditions, and trainees were supposed to show up sometime before dark. I remember meeting a few of the veteran guides, and then finding a seat on one of the old couches in the guide loft. Over the next few hours I watched as more new trainees arrived to stake their claim to the diminishing sleeping space. Later that night I crawled into my sleeping bag, not quite sure about the adventure on which I was about to embark.
The first couple of days of training were cold and then the black flies and mosquitoes arrived; that’s when I remember the misery starting. It rained for most of training and at night the temperature dropped enough to freeze our wetsuits in the positions in which they’d been laid out to dry. There’s nothing like waking up at 6:30 on a bitter morning only to have to tug a half frozen wetsuit on while sitting in a cramped bus seat filled with the crumbs of the PB&J from the previous day.
I’m sure some are thinking that this is one of those old “Why, In My Day” stories, but it’s not. ‘96 was a rough summer, and a rough training season. I’ve been training new guides for the last six years, and I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed a worse season. This year’s trainees enjoyed relatively spectacular weather. I overheard one of the trainees commenting that training this year was almost like a vacation; I don’t think I’d go that far, but weather wise it wasn’t very adverse. I seriously considered placing them all in the walk in freezer, only to open the door once every 30 seconds to douse them with buckets of freezing water. It never happened, which probably has something to do with me not being an unusually cruel person; despite what several of them might argue. There was a trainee in that 96’ class, that will remain nameless, but let’s just call him “John” for the sake of the story. The water on the Kennebec had been running at 8,000+ cfs most of the week, and we’d had more than our share of carnage. It was a busy week of training, and Wilderness, New England, and Northern also had boats on the water. I don’t think it would be an exaggeration to say that there were several flips a day between all the training groups. We were coming toward the end of training, and most of us trainees were starting to feel a little like we were getting it – it’s amazing how swimming from Big Mamma has the ability to ingrain the finer techniques of keeping a boat right-side up into one’s brain.
Earlier in the day we’d dropped off Glenn, one of the veteran Unicorn guides, at Chase Stream. His plan was to do a little prospecting up the stream and then meet back up with the trainees on our last run of the day for a ride out. Glenn was there on our last run, and we pulled over to pick him up. He had found a 45-55 lb. rock on the stream that he wanted to take home to examine.
After stepping into the boat, Glenn suggested to Sully, our training guide for this run, that considering the presence of this really cool boulder, this run would probably be a great opportunity to practice a highway run. Sully agreed, and we were all a little relieved to hear we wouldn’t have the opportunity to swim Magic again on the last run of the day.
As luck would have it, John happened to be guiding this run. Now, it had been a long training, and we were all pretty comfortable with the lines on the Kennebec. We were all a little nervous with John, but we figured we’d be okay running the highway. The day was almost over, as was training, and there was a light mood as we floated down toward Magic and a highway run.
I wasn’t really focusing on much as we came up on Magic. If I remember correctly, we were all listening to Glenn discuss his adventures on Chase Stream as John let us float toward the highway run.
The noise of the rapid was starting to grow as Glenn was finishing up his story. The raft was full of trainees, so Glenn was sitting in the back compartment next to Sully. As Glenn finished up his story, he casually segued into a question for John. It went something like this, “John, are we planning on running highway?”
John replied with a confused look, “Yes, why?”
Glenn had been speaking so casually, that it was a somewhat disconcerting to hear his voice climb to a yell as he spoke the following, “Because we’re lined up for Maytag!”
Glenn finished the word Maytag in a yell and casually shuffled the large rock from his lap over to Sully’s. I remember looking forward and realizing that we were on the Maytag line and there was little to be done at this point. Sully had realized he was now holding the rock and had quickly shuffled it back to Glenn. I think the rock went back and forth several times before Glenn begrudgingly tossed it over the side. Just as he did this we came up on the crest of Maytag. We were expecting some type of motivation, for John to yell, “paddle hard,” or “hold on,” instead, he yelled, “STOP.”
Now, there wasn’t one person in that boat, besides John, who thought that “stop” was the appropriate command given the immediate circumstances. Nevertheless, we’d learned by now that we were supposed to do what the guide commanded, right or wrong. Some lessons you have to learn the hard way, besides, no one wanted to do anything contrary and risk the wrath of trainer Sully.
So, we stopped. A moment later the world came crashing down as we dropped into Maytag and the raft was tossed from beneath us. We swam that last run, and no one was worse for the wear. After we regrouped, I remember Sully asking John that one question we all wanted to ask, “John, what were you thinking calling a “stop” right before we dropped into Maytag?”
John answered, “Dude, I didn’t mean for everyone to stop paddling…..I just wanted the world to stop.”

Communities Getting Involved had its first big event on July 20, 2003. 30 volunteers showed up to help clean up nine miles of the Nezinscot River, from Buckfield to Turner. The overall amount of trash collected was 7,673 pounds of trash, raising $500 for charity. The only slip-up of the day was when one canoe capsized at takeout because its load of trash shifted. Oops. Communities Getting Involved’s next event is August 31 inWaterville, a river cleanup/canoe race. Please call organizer and Communities Getting Involved head Eric Goodwin at 207.235.2591 or use communitiesgettinginvolved.org for more details … A group called, “Friends of Bald Mountain Pond” is working to maintain public access to the 10,000 acres surrounding and including Bald Mountain Pond northeast ofBingham. The following is taken from their flyer: “We believe in public access to the land and accessibility to all citizens for recreation including hiking, hunting, fishing, camping and snowmobiling. We support no future private development and no additional permanent roads in existing roadless areas to conserve its pristine qualities.” To request a flyer or to communicate with the group, call 207.643.2746 … Music loving whitewater paddlers have a tough choice on the weekend of Aug 2 and 3. It’s the Deerfield Riverfest in Charlemont, MA v..Phish’s concert (called “IT”) at Loring Airforce Base inLimestone. Which one are you going to? … Word has been floating around that paper companies and local wardens are worked up about people camping illegally near the put in of theRapid River. If this keeps up, local landowners will prohibit access to the put in and paddlers must endure a long float acrossLake Umbagog in order to boat the Rapid … The Kennebec River has warmed up to over 67 degrees. Put the dry tops away until August.

Nesowadnehunk Stream
by Jeffey Russell
It was mid-summer on the Penobscot. The rains had brought the local streams up to bank-full and Jim Pepin and I were on an after-work adventure down Nesowadnehunk Stream. Solid rock’n roll rapids, with several portages had brought us to Windy Pitch.
Windy pitch, (Or winding as in twisting, not breezy.) starts with a river-wide ledge-drop into a flowing pool that slips down immediately to the left, then winds blindly back to the right into a class V turbulence that would have presented its own challenges given a decent entry.
Tired of carrying, and aware of the setting sun, we were eager to move downriver with more expediency, which meant on water rather than through brush. The plan, after way too much discussion of whether to boat or boot, was to run the drop, then eddy out river right to regroup. Marker waves were noted as we returned to our boats waiting upstream. I had chosen a left run, while Jim more conservatively, and more wisely, chose to run right where the drop was smaller. I focused intently on each spraying landmark as I rapidly approached the lip of the falls. Right on target I thought, as my kayak pitched sweetly just as it had off the seal-entry-bridge not long ago. THUD. All momentum was suddenly overtaken with inertia as my bowels and bones were abruptly deprived of downstream motion. CLUNK as the boat shifted sideways and settled into the boat-deep crack in the granite ledge that had given the illusion of deep water. Bow-pinned! The immediacy of the weight of water pressing insistently on my back was relieved somewhat by the realization that I could still breathe without taking in water. My head was creating a pocket of air, allowing me time to think, and for Jim, now aware of my situation, to pull over and plan a rescue. I could see his actions through the distorting sheet of water that was my imprisoner. After several futile attempts at shaking the boat free from the crevice, I watched as Jim tried to get a rope-toss close enough for my grasp. The rope agonizingly snagged in another crack in the ledge, well out of reach to my right. Realizing that Jim was not going to be able to dislodge it, I recognized it was time to join the swim club. I popped my skirt and the water rushed in so forcefully it ejected my float bags like watermelon seeds. Time to leave. I began to hoist myself up and out of the cockpit, getting my knees just clear of the rim, but the pressure increased so greatly as I pushed up, I feared my shins would snap if I inched any further. Three tries at that, and I needed another option. With all my might, I pushed and scrambled in one move of power and determination. Tumbling into the pool below, I immediately began stroking for the far shore, before the currents dragged me into the angry chaos below. Jim ran down the shore with his free end of throw-rope, trying to pendulum it to within my grasp. I managed to pull ashore just before the bank turned from shoreline into granite wall that would have ensured my downstream passage by water. With much gratefulness at still being alive, we weighed the options, gathered our collective spirit, and loaded up Jim’s boat with our paddles for the carry out. We were on the right side of the stream at this point with thick underbrush obscuring our path. The dwindling light increased the sense of urgency. We finally got to a place in the stream that had a small, flat island. The braided channels offered an opportunity to cross without necessarily resulting in a swim. With our paddles and the boat to steady us, we waded carefully across, the currents all the while tugging at our legs. With great relief we were on the left shore, where the Appalachian Trail offered respite from the tangled bushes. By now though, the light was fading fast, and we were soon beset with the frank darkness of a new moon. You literally could not see your hand in front of your face. I know, because I tried.
With the raging torrents beside us we felt our way with cautious footsteps along the beaten path. Occasionally we would have to retrace our steps to get back on the trail. At one spot, the trail came alongside a steep embankment. Jim stepped too close to the edge and we tumbled sickeningly through the darkness toward the sound of the raging waters below. Fortunately we came to rest short of the magnetic currents, and found our way back up to safety.
For what seemed an eternity we sought our way along the trail until a distant light winked intermittently at us through the dark woods. Civilization! As we approached, we could hear voices calling our names. Amen!! With great relief we realized we were at the confluence of the stream and the Penobscot River. Paul, who had left us at the put-in several hours ago, had gotten worried and left Pray’s annual guides’ party to see what was taking us so long. He ferried us across the river to the Nesowadnehunk Falls take-out where we took the van ride back, me boatless and my tail between my legs. It was a hard way to learn to always check your entry.

Pin in the butt - Hmm… looks like a pin on the infamous Guardian Rock. But on this day, cool heads prevailed and the raft was tugged off the rock without a single person going for a swim. Nice job.

• *Issue 6: Love and The River, Deadline August 7. Print date August 14.
• *Issue 7: Fiction: “Survivor” Comes to The Forks, Deadline August 21. Print date August 28.

As a longtime member of Maine’s seasonal workforce, I have lived in many a house/apartment/cabin/tent/truck (actually just one truck) over the past few years.
Moving generally sucks, but it helps if you can fit everything you own into the back of your vehicle.
This (auto)mobile principle causes the ski mountain employee/raft guide to seriously prioritize his belongings: “Okay, I don’t need the tea kettle because I can boil water in the spaghetti pot … Where did I get all these T-shirts? I’ve got to choose my favorite 10 and donate the rest to Goodwill … Anything that’s broken and can’t be fixed in one day has to go …Do I really need a pillow? Yes!… Thank God for these versatile milk crates…”
Because of this principle, I’ve turned down a lot of houseplants, dogs, furniture and Ramen because there was no room for them in the back of the little gray Nissan. When you do finally decide on what possessions to include in your next season’s life, you must pack them into/onto your vehicle. This task inevitably causes the load to get even smaller (“Heh-heh, I just don’t seem to have room for all of these credit card bills…”), however, before you ditch your pint glass collection, I need to point out that the kayak is an often overlooked storage container. Caution: if you plan on crossing national borders, know that the border patrol WILL look inside your boat.
After your load is secure, it’s time to make your move.
The first thing I do after I unpack and conduct the customary Feng Shui arrangements is to get a sense of my new neighbors.
Sometimes you’ll head next door and find yourself living next to people you work with (“Dude, will you shake my tent when you get up tomorrow?”). Sometimes you’ll be living next to weekend warriors (“Hey Rod! So tell me, how was the week in the big city?”). Other times you might be dwelling amongst the company of year-round locals (“Do you actually go down the river in that little boat?”). And, in rare occasions, you might be neighbors with some seasonal rich folks (“Hmmm, yes, do you mind parking on the other side of the lot this weekend? We have company arriving on Friday and they’re not accustomed to walking past such, um, primitive automobiles…”).
But whoever your neighbors appear to be, it’s impossible to know at first glance if they will be easy to get along with. Any of the aforementioned neighbor stereotypes could turn out to be a quiet neighbor, a cool neighbor, a raging-partying neighbor or an ultra-sensitive neighbor.
Quiet neighbors are fine, because you never hear from them. These neighbors keep to themselves and expect you to do the same. Sometimes, however, what at first seems to be a quiet neighbor can end up being an ultra-sensitive neighbor (more on that one later). In any case, it is advised not to push your limits with the quiet neighbor. Respect, like in any relationship, is key to keeping on the up-and-up with your quiet neighbors: don’t crank the tunes after ten, don’t park in their spot and don’t feed drugs to their dog. I heard Ted Kuzinski was a quiet neighbor.
The cool neighbor is great because you will probably end up being friends. You will make small talk outside your place of residence. You will share meals. He or she will come over to invite you to a bonfire party or to see if you want to check out “8 Mile” before it’s returned to the video store. You might even find out your cool neighbor is studying to be a massage therapist. Sweet! Everything is good in the cool neighborhood. The raging-partying neighbor is great if, for some reason, you need a beer at 3 o’clock in the whatever. Also, the raging-partying neighbor will generally put up with a lot of noise and other strange behavior from you because their lifestyle usually has them in one of two states: making a lot of noise or passed out stone cold. Another plus: the raging-partying neighbor is always very entertaining to watch. I can put up with the raging-partying neighbor as long as they’re not living too close, otherwise drastic measures like sneaking into their house and vigorously shaking up all the cans of beer may be required. Bribery sometime works. Violence, not so much. You could also try talking to them, but this strategy rarely gets very far.
The ultra-sensitive neighbor can be trouble. You can recognize these people by the standard pounding on the wall/floor/ceiling after you let out a good belch or set an object on the table. Use extreme caution when dealing with the ultra-sensitive neighbor because they often are very bitter people who find enjoyment in introducing pain into the lives of others. Perhaps a neighborhood barbecue would help set things sizzling in the right direction.
But whatever you do, please don’t resort to banging on the wall/floor/ceiling. It’s cowardly and it just pisses people off.
Instead, I would advise this strategy: Grab a blanket (or another non-intimidating object) and head next door. Knock on your neighbor’s front door:
“Excuse me, kind neighbor, is there a reason why I am hearing thumping on our common wall,” you ask through clenched teeth.
“Um, yea. Could you keep it down over there? I can’t hear myself think,” your neighbor replies, wondering why you are standing there petting your blanket.
“I would be happy to … I would also like to note that I will come down here to see you every single time you bang on that wall. So, if you ever need to communicate with me again – for example to ask if I know the solution to a particular Jeopardy clue or to get advice on marinating beaver flesh, go ahead, bang on that wall again, and I’ll be right down. Is that a deal?”
If you hold your head at a slight angle, and unfailingly stare your neighbor in the eye while you say this, you probably won’t have to worry about pesky Harvey Wallbanger anymore.

–“Who wants to marry a Survivor before he sues you for $1 Billion and becomes America’s Idol?”
In this show, filmed on a 150 foot yacht called the “U.S.S. INC. sponsored by AOL, MTV, MBNA and the NBA”, reality TV reaches the peak of fantasy as desperate people jump through ridiculous hoops for our voyeuristic enjoyment. Don’t miss a second, your life could very well depend on it.
-“Daddy, which one of us do you love the most?”
And you thought the line had been drawn with marriage? This show brings stable families onstage and attempts to truly rip them apart. Using thought-provoking devices such as the Lie Detector, Virtual Chinese Torture, The Wheel of Death and Five Minutes Alone with a Scary Detective, this show will reveal to America, once and for all, who really is “Daddy’s Girl.” Family units are a small price to pay for our right to enjoy ourselves.
-“The National Red Hot Dog Eating Championships”
According to Parade Magazine, the “activity” of competitive eating (they called it a “sport” but, dammit, I am making a stand on this one) is experiencing unprecedented growth. This show would help to projectile it into the national spotlight. Nationally ranked eaters compete for the title of “Fattest Ass in the Country.” First prize: $100,000 and the new “Don’t-Get-Up System: the remote that controls absolutely everything.” Make this show part of your families’ perfect TV dinner.
-“The Billionaire’s Burden”
This show becomes the billionaire’s burden as it outlines how unfathomingly rich people exploit tax laws, trade exemptions, and a largely apathetic American citizenry to their own personal gain. Public records reveal humongous profits, yet these folks still manage to say with a straight face that the economy is suffering and they’ll have to cut jobs.
Keep the cameras rolling as the show’s hosts try to approach them to ask what they actually do to earn their $50+ million a year. Hey, don’t feel bad for them: they could kill you and then buy their way out of prison.
-“Opposite Day in the Media”
Let’s find out more about the objective people who are reporting the news. This show features a Q and A with famous members of the media and subjects them to every probing, personal question they have ever asked a murder suspect, assault victim, surviving family member or politician. Let’s find out about estranged family members, drugs done in college, mental/rehab hospital stays, opinions on racism and more. “No Comment”, no problem!! We’ll gladly move on to the next question – as soon as they start to cry for Mama!
-Okay. The last one is this:
A young Maine raft guide starts a publication for outdoorsy types and in one of the issues he prints a list of ideas for new TV shows… Well, in an unclear set of circumstances, a shallow, seedy Hollywood person gets his hands on the list and begins to produce shows based on the raft guide’s ideas. The raft guide cannot afford a lawsuit, so he cuts his hair, quits chewing Kodiak and devotes his life to destroying the Hollywood Entertainment Empire. This high-action series follows the raft guide across the country and back, climaxing in the final episode when the Hollywood person meets his end, duct-taped to a backboard going over Moxie Falls.

by Tom Christopher - American Whitewater Conservation Chair

In Maine, water quality constantly changes, from season to season and from year to year. Long-term trends are sometimes difficult to distinguish from short-term fluctuations. Under many circumstances it is difficult to tell if conditions are getting better or worse because monitoring data may be insufficient or inaccurate.
While land use is not the sole predictor of water quality, understanding how open space can affect the quality of water should play an important role in making land use decisions. The natural features provided by open space are critical because they protect the wilderness landscape that make Maine unique as a boreal forest. Geology, soils, vegetation and land management practices also provide a direct correlation to water quality and will often affect aquatic organisms, wildlife, and human health. In southern Maine and along the coast, paved urban areas increase the intensity of storm-water runoff that picks up pollutants from parking lots and raises the water temperature before dumping into local rivers and streams. Trash, toxic waste, and often-untreated sewage are known byproducts of urbanization that result in pollution that degrades water quality.
Protecting open space, on the other hand, is a cost-effective strategy that reduces pollution, helps to recharge local aquifers, and eliminates many of the problems caused by the intrusion of man into the landscape. The natural conditions provided by open space and streamside forests reduce the sediments from surface runoff. By limiting the nutrient loading of small streams and shallow aquifers, open space helps to ameliorate the effects of animal waste, agricultural fertilizers and pesticides. Excess nitrogen and phosphorus increases the growth of algae in ponds, depletes oxygen, and will kill fish. A high nitrogen level in drinking water may cause less oxygen availability for the brain and can be dangerous to children and certain groups of people.
Open space enhances the natural biological cycle, helping to convert manure and fertilizer into essential nutrients necessary for plant growth. Healthy vegetation along rivers and streams acts as a transformer that protects water quality throughout the watershed. Streamside forests act as a sink by storing these converted nutrients until they are needed for plant growth, something a parking lot is not capable of. Forest canopies within watersheds affect the seasonal variations of water temperature by moderating the hot summer sun that can kill fish and other aquatic life. Open space is critical to preserving the instream flow of rivers and streams, especially those having species which require a minimum amount of water to survive.
Biological diversity is an integral component in all watersheds and it is an important protection for threatened and endangered species. There is a high correlation between development and adverse impacts within a watershed. As urban areas expand into rural landscapes, so do the impacts, including loss of important wildlife habitat, aquatic organisms, macro-invertebrates, and destruction of wetlands. Sprawl from development contributes significantly to the reduction of biodiversity and loss of species.
There are social and economic impacts to sprawl that slowly creep into communities that have not taken steps to implement good planning. Suddenly, traffic congestion, pollution, and fragmentation of the landscape become the norm in the name of progress before anyone notices what is happening. Sound planning for open space often means making hard political choices as residents must decide what is best for their communities, because where you live should be more than just a place to go when you are not working. Planning should mean understanding what resources need protection, where growth should occur, and how growth should be balanced to protect all of the community’s interests. Open spaces within communities are important because they provide a sense of “place”, protect water supplies, and reduce the cost of municipal services demanded by uncontrolled growth.

Want to know more? Check out these clean river resources…
American Whitewater is a leading boaters-rights advocacy organization. Visit them online at:www.americanwhitewater.org	Maine Rivers’ mission is to protect, restore and enhance the health and vitality of Maine’s Rivers.www.mainerivers.org	River Network is a national leader in supporting grassroots river and watershed conservation groups.www.rivernetwork.org	RiverSmart is a national public education campaign helping Americans understand how daily water usage affects rivers. www.riversmart.orgwww.riversmart.org

Artwork by David Saaf
Words by Amy Leppo

So, I am here in Idaho. On the Lochsa. This coming weekend is our busiest weekend. So what is the Lochsa like? Imagine that the Kennebec and the Dead got it on and had a baby. I know, it’s weird, just go with it. And that baby grew up to have a really bad steroid problem. Got it? OK, that would be the Lochsa River. It is big, beautiful and COLD!!! HOLY SHIT IT IS COLD!!!! It adds to the penalty points. So many rapids. Tall waves. Huge wave holes. 40 rapids in 30 miles. I am slowly starting to shake off my intimidation. But I keep getting worked. The other day I ran into a 25 foot monolith in the middle of the river. There was so much water going in to it, it created a surf wave immediately in front of it. I tried avoiding this huge rock, but it didn’t really work out. The next thing I know I am watching my downstream hand trying to get a grip on the rock. Finally I give in and flip. I rolled up so quick! That was my last day in the Skip. The water is just too big for that little boat. For me, the Skip is a great Class III+ play boat. But for big, pushy, swirly water? The Delirious. Hands down. I am so happy I still have that thing. The waves are so fast here. Check out the NRS catalog from this month. The Lochsa is featured everywhere. I surfed one of the smoothest, glassiest waves ever earlier today. Ahh, life is good. The first day I followed the raft trip down the beefier section of the Lochsa. Blind. In the Skip. Following a raft line. This is how the day went: 1. During the 3 feet of flat water between rapids, I notice the bus (acting as safety and photographer) is parked below the next horizon line. I get some sort of vague information from a guide boat. ie/ “Go left, then sort of right. But look out for the lateral! And there is a big hole in the middle that probably won’t keep you. Actually, just follow us.” 2. I would watch the raft go over a horizon line rather abruptly. The raft would then reappear as it crested the next wave. Usually with a violent pop. Sometimes sideways. Once in a while with people exploding off the raft and oars flailing. Did I mention they run stern mounts here? 3. I think to myself…Is that really the best line? If I opt to run it on the fly and pick a different line. Would I be worse off? Ugh. Hard to tell. Not wanting to do anything silly, like get out and scout it, I take the same line as the raft. 4. I flip. 5. I roll. 6. I repeat steps 4 & 5. 7. I repeat steps 4, 5& 6. 8. I repeat steps 1 – 7. All day

Interviews and Illustration by Kristen Kaiser
Larry from North New Portland

A. Cuz of the beautiful country, the people, atmosphere. It’s just a pretty place to go. B. No, not up for it – not my thing. I hunt and fish.
C. Watching them [rafting customers] come down the river. Watching them up at the dam and they’re scared, don’t know what’s going on… and watching the ones that are big mouths, the know-it-alls. When you see them up on the other end, it’s a whole different story. Now they’re paying attention, they hit the first drop and they say, “Oh Jesus!”
D. Sitting and waiting for them to come in. During the buggy season, terrible. Only thing you can do is take a Deet IV.

Dale from Moscow A. Fun Sport B. Oh yea. I had a lot of fun. C. It’s all good. D. Not really. You got a job, you gotta do it. Tom from Skowhegan A. Because it’s fun. B. Couple of times. Like it. C. Making the bus flip on video. D. Moxie Road and the narrow bridges. Jeff from Lewiston A. Kicks ass. B. Yes, I guide. C. Uh, today’s my first day driving bus. D. Uh, today’s my first day driving bus. Burt from Kingfield A. Something they never done, it’s a good place to come to anyway. B. Yes. Good. C. Lunch. Wildlife. D. Break down. Bob from Skowhegan A. Lot of fun. B. Fun, it was a lot of fun. C. Get to meet a lot of people. D. Dusty… Jean from Jackman A. Because it’s the only place to raft. B. I have. It’s wonderful. C. Meeting people. D. Sometimes, meeting people. Jeremy from Little Falls, Minnesota A. Because it’s cheaper than rafting in California or Colorado, I hear. And personally, I think the whitewater is better here. B. Yup. 5 years running. C. Hitting the down hills coming from Jackman. It normally gets everyone’s hopes up a bit. Gets their hair raised. D. Cleaning up after everyone. Garbage. Food.

Questions: A. Why should people come to Maine to go rafting? B. Have you ever been rafting? C. What is the best part of your day? D. What is the worst part of your day?

Volume II Subscriptions to No Umbrella: just $15. *retroactive to First Release. Letters to the Editor:
Received via email 7/10/03:
Dude- You’re wrong, and feel free to print this… bad spelling/typos/bad grammar and all (he says and swills his Pabst 16oz.er.):
“Things Mainers can be “state-riotic” about…
…A list by the editor:
-Electing the only Independent Governor in United States history (that’s Angus King – the Governor before this one – for all you youngsters).”
Hey….whaddabout Jesse Ventura (Ind – Minn.) …. just like angus…independent _and_ a Harley Davidson rider (if we look around hard enough I’ll bet we can dig up pix of them together on HOG’s). However, I dunno ’bout either of them being paddlers.
And the thing about tiny ski mountains…..try skiing the midwest?…didn’t think so.
-Jeff (formerly from milwaukee…ya ‘der hey) anybody wanna buy a Prijon Hurricane?

Dear Jeff- You’re right: Jesse Ventura is an Independent, now. However, while running for office “The Body” was a member of the Reform Party.
Several folks (most claiming that I am a youngster) also pointed out that Jim Longley was an Independent, too. But, of course, since he was also governor of Maine, we are still the only state to elect an Independent governor. As far as the tiny ski mountains go, I suppose I have to ski it to believe it, and I believe Maine’s got the best.
Later,
-Nick ]]> http://noumbrella.com/nublog/outdoor-stories/ugly-box-of-random-delirious-funk/feed/ 0 http://noumbrella.com/nublog/outdoor-stories/gearhead-ths-liquidlogic-skip/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=gearhead-ths-liquidlogic-skip http://noumbrella.com/nublog/outdoor-stories/gearhead-ths-liquidlogic-skip/#comments Fri, 27 Jul 2012 16:08:42 +0000 jeffrey.knox http://noumbrella.com/nublog/?p=3120 by Will Hartman

I’d like to put something down on the table to start this whole thing off: I do not have this boat figured out. It is still above my ability level and is still teaching me a great deal about kayaking. So, feel free to take what you want from this review and brush the rest off as hogwash.
Liquidlogic is a fairly new company to the kayak scene. It is made up of about 10 people and was originally started in Sadula, North Carolina on the Green River. Since then, they have expanded and are now in Dane, NC. They seem like a dedicated group of paddlers who are passionate about kayaking and are out to build quality boats that push the sport.

Will Hartman in his LiquidLogic Skip

Let me give you the history of my boat. The Skip and I date back to late fall of 2002. That fall is when I really began to pick up paddling and dedicate myself to it. I had never owned a boat before the Skip. After paddling the majority of that fall in a Dagger Showdown, I got out a couple of times in my friend’s Skip at Hole Brothers on the Black River in Northern New York. On those few occasions, I felt like my play boating was beginning to take root. My friend said I should seriously consider getting a good play boat. I considered it but was broke and that was a problem when trying to buy a $1,000 toy. While perusing some classifieds online, I stumbled across a guy selling a Skip outside of Portland. I offered him 500 bucks expecting to pay much more. To my surprise, the guy said sure.
For such a small boat, the Skip is faster then some of the other play boats I’ve been in. This by no matter means it is fast. I do have a hard time getting on many waves. Once on, though, the Skip carves very nicely. You can really feel the seven inches of rocker on fast waves like Zero to Sixty Wave on the Kennebec. When you get on a really dynamic wave, the boat is bouncing entirely out of the water. In holes, the Skip is more fun than flaming lawn darts. It takes no effort to spin the boat. The boat wants to throw blunts. The only reason I usually am upside down when attempting a blunt is pilot error. The ends are extremely slicey. To get this boat on end is as simple as pie and for someone just getting into play boating they should be able to pick this up quickly.
I do not have a lot of complaints about the Skip. As I mentioned above, I have a hard time getting on some waves because it is a small, slow play boat. The positives and negatives of the fitting are worth mentioning. With the cinch tight system I can really ratchet myself in. However, I have heard some people complain that the ratchets are not durable enough for them. I will add that the right ratchet in my boat is fairly stubborn. The positives of the cinch tight system, though, I think outweigh the negatives. It still gets me into my boat snugger than any other boat I’ve been in.
I am about 5’10″ and I don’t think anyone bigger could get into the Skip. It is a small and uncomfortable boat and can be rough on the 16-mile Dead River trip. It being so small, going down the real hard, steep sections of some rivers can be a little hairy. The Skip is easily stern bitched. This is always a worry in the back of my mind when I am punching False Exterminator, staring down the diagonal leading right into the maw of Exterminator and wishing very hard I had a bigger boat. But I am not dead, yet. In the right hands, the Skip will suffice nicely in class V if there is the reward of nasty play spots.
I am smitten with the Skip. For starters, I was very pleased with the deal I got on it. I like that the boat is still teaching me a lot about kayaking. Often, it is teaching the hard way. I can’t really think of a boat I would rather be paddling on the river.

Big water at the Penobscot!! The dam on North Twin Lakehas recently been repaired. Because of this, both Seboomookand Ripogenus dams have been releasing extra water to fill up the lake. Video boaters rejoice… Folks down in West Virginiasay water is high there as well. One report had the New Riverup to 11 feet a couple weeks ago… A busy weekend in The Forkson July 4 – 6 included No Umbrella’s first ever public event. The Kennebec River Takeout Tailgate Party (below), co-sponsored by American Whitewater, attracted over 100 folks over the course of 3 hours. After the beer and hot dogs were all gone, everybody got to enjoy the fireworks show put on by The Marshall, Crab Apple and Magic Falls… The FirstSkowhegan Water Park Paddlers Committee Meeting at 6:30 pm on Wednesday, July 23 at Moose Alley Inn inBingham. Any and all paddlers welcome.

Don’t Sink the Stink
by Zeke Callanan
There is a part of life (here, it is considered an event) that I personally never valued highly, but people in other spots of this country find necessary to complete a full day. In the world of raft guides, I soon found out, no matter your size, sex, or hairiness, one act once so highly regarded in your former life becomes nearly obsolete; not forgotten, but displaced to the bottom of one’s list of priorities, behind drinking beer, volleyball, and play runs. It is, my friends, The Shower.
Countless excuses disguised as reasons (or is it vice versa?) explain the lack of necessity for the weekly traditional cleansing. Just ask any guide: The optimist: “The river cleans me.” The denier: “It’s not me, dude, I think it’s you…or her.” The realist: “Oh that, that’s just the river. I like the river.” The cheapskate: “It’s too expensive.” Mr. Bandwagon: “It’s cool, everybody’s not doin’ it.” And the classic: “I don’t have time.” (Okay, so that one nobody buys.) The list goes on and on.
No, the real reason, of course, is that The Shower invites bugs to breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Especially those damned black flies.
And when you do take one, you actually have something to write home about:

Dear Mom, You’ll never believe what happened! That bottle of Suave you got me in May…it actually got used! Well, not by me, but Jonie got melted cheese in her hair and guess who was the hero of the week? Yup, ME! And they even gave me a free company bumper sticker! Anyway, gotta go.
Love,
Josh
p.s. A rock called Fist of God punched me in the nuts on Tuesday, but they’re okay now.

It has become accepted, even status quo, that the raft guide stay…um, not dirty, but…seasoned. In some cases, the extent to which one neglects throwing down the 50 cents (exactly one half her or his daily pay) for The Shower is a mark of accomplishment. I know a couple five-year guides who have yet to do it this summer (and because of this they’ve saved enough to buy a six-pack of tall boys for the weekend). In fact, fellow guides get suspicious when another makes an unexpected stab at The Shower: “Guy, did you finally get a date with that girl who holds the stop/slow sign?”
There comes a time, though, in every guide’s month where the decision is made for them. “Man, I lost my whole crew before Taster Rapid, and none of ‘em would get back in. I don’t get it.” “Yeah, buddy, I think they caught a whiff of Funk Wave a little early. Here’s a couple quarters and a bar of Irish Spring.” So the time has finally come for you to take the walk of shame (or fame, to those you’re near) to The Shower. Half of all guides aren’t even sure how to do it anymore (I still remind my brother that PFD and helmet need not apply).
So, be a raft guide’s friend and acknowledge the efforts she or he makes: Buy them a beer, pat them on the back (with an extra long paddle), and say, “Hey. Thanks for saving the water.”

This Story’s Even Dirtier

by Amy Leppo
Have you ever had any of your paddling shit stolen from you? Have you ever had your car broken in to? I officially joined the victims’ club. That is right. On the evening of July 4, someone celebrated their American independence by stealing my dry top, splash top, fuzzy rubber, polypro, spray skirt, mesh bag, Leatherman, cd changer, my music collection and get this…My bag of laundry. I have no bras left. They stole three. Bastards. My stinky purple REI top was found a little ways down the road. I think it stunk so badly that they hucked it. The worst part about being robbed? The slow realization curve that accompanies theft. At first, I think I made a mistake. Then, I think someone is playing a trick on me (denial). And then, realizing my gear is gone. At this point I have opened my doors and trunk 50 times in an obsessive panic. This was sure to destroy any fingerprints left by the elves of darkness. Then, rock bottom…. Looking in the trunk at an empty space where my cd changer used to be.
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I pulled a Nancy Kerrigan “why me?” rant for a little bit. That made me feel worse, considering my good friend lost about 5 times as much as I did and he was keeping it together. I swear I heard the cop say “awh, shucks. If only I had a license plate number.” I asked him if his dog, Flash, was in the car. He didn’t know what I was talking about.
It has been going on a week and I still haven’t been back out on the water. Gear replacement, ugh… So, get some renter’s insurance. Car insurance won’t cover this type of stuff. And for cryin’ out loud, lock your shit!

If you say you’re traveling from the West Branch of the Penobscot to The Forks (or vice versa) someone’s bound to ask you: “Are you taking the dirt or the pavement?”
For me, the answer always is the dirt. First of all, I think it’s quicker. I also enjoy the scenery of the Maine woods. I enjoy the privacy of the dusty, bumpy road. And yes, I like being able to pull over and take a leak whenever I feel like it.
However, for the benefit of the inexperienced dirt road navigator, I must discuss several potential obstacles one could face on the dirt road.
First of all, of course, dirt road travelers must be conscious of the wildlife. These dirt roads go through the Maine forest; foxes, rabbits, bears, deer, moose, turkeys, and many more live in these woods. Watch out for them. Although it is common to see all sorts of different species, be especially aware of moose after nightfall. Moose are big, slow-witted and they don’t seem to care if they are in your way. Henceforth, these animals have the best odds to actually kill you: according to the Maine State Police, four motorists have died in Maine already this year as a result of a collision with a moose.
Here’s a recent story to illustrate the moose’s persistent oblivion: one evening last week, I was headed west from McKay Station toward Kokadjo. About a mile after the Golden Road turns to dirt, I came around a slight bend in the road, going about 35 to 40, and, sure enough, there’s a little calf standing in the center of the road, staring at me like I was a bearded lady in the circus.
I slammed on the brakes and my truck slid sideways, missing the moose by two feet, and I ended up half in the ditch. This ruckus startled the calf and she bolted down the middle of the road. Now, lucky for me, I own a luxury vehicle – the luxury being that I need not worry about every new scratch or dent. By the time I got the shit box back on the road and caught up to the moose, the scared little thing was flailing all over the road. I tried honking the horn. I tried flashing the lights, but she would not let me pass. Finally, I stopped and turned off the lights and counted to 30. When I turned them on again, the calf stood right in front of me, staring into my skull with her dark, muddy eyes.
This time it was me who was startled. I began to pull forward and she began to run again. To hell with this, I thought, and I aimed for the pucker brush and stomped on the gas. With two tires off the road I passed the little moose with six feet to spare on her left side. As soon as I got by her, the calf ditched it into the woods. Figures.
As it turns out, moose may not be as dumb (or dangerous) as another species of wildlife sometimes found on the dirt roads: The misguided tourist. These creatures are typically piloting $30,000 Sport Utility Vehicles while at the same time attempting to navigate with only a $2 fold-up map from a convenience store. Most of the time they can be found stopped at a fork in the road; however, I have had several close encounters with less mentally endowed tourists who park just beyond hills and sharp curves.
Approach tourists with caution as they will probably attempt to bombard you with requests for directions, gas or advice on how to change a flat tire. Oftentimes it is safest to oblige, because a misguided tourist is an unpredictable tourist. As an extra safety precaution, please try to resist any temptation to give these creatures false directions. As funny as it is to see a pompous stranger drive off in the absolute opposite direction to where he’s headed (“Honey, how the hell did we make it to Canada? You would’ve thought there’d been a sign…”), this tactic only prolongs the tourists’ wanderings in the dirt road area and further congests travel for other people. (It is pretty funny though.)
Perhaps the most important knowledge to take with you when driving across the dirt is that the logging trucks have the right of way. These extra wide behemoths will not yield to you, so you better yield to them, sucker. Paper companies own and maintain these dirt roads; so your use of the roads comes secondary to their use. If you hear a rumbling in the distance accompanied a few seconds later by a massive cloud of dust, pull your vehicle to the edge of the road and roll up your windows. Once the logging truck passes, continue on your way.
So, when you’re out on the dirt this summer, keep one hand on the wheel, one hand on the cool refreshment of your choice (the other day in Camden an ambulance turned in front of me with sirens blazing, and I looked in and the driver had one hand on the wheel and the other on a Coolatta), and both eyes on the road! One last piece of advice, if your nervous about traveling across the dirt, take the pavement.

-They will grow, and at some point in your lives, be stronger than you. Payback is a mofo.
-You may need to borrow money from them someday.
-If you’re mean to your kids, they think that “mean” is the way to be. Then you will be the first person the cops (and the newspapers) call after your offspring runs over another child with a bicycle.
-So they don’t call the cops on you.
-So they’ll be nice to you.
-Somebody needs to show you how to use the Internet.
-So they will be happy to look after you when you get older. Otherwise, they may get tired of taking care of your grouchy ass and deposit you in the cheapest nursing home available.
-So you’ll have fun hanging out together when your kids become adults.
-Because they’ll love you for it.
-Because this is America and someone your child knows owns a gun, knife or a baseball bat.
-Because it sure is nice to receive birthday presents.
-Because if a kid feels loved, he/she won’t spend nearly as much time feeling depressed … which leaves more time for him or her to figure out how to get rich.
-Because if they do get rich, and you’re still not, they might buy you a nice house.
-Because you want them to say “First, I’d like to thank my loving parents…” at the beginning of their Oscar or Employee of the Month Award acceptance speech.
-Because kayaking, fishing and playing cribbage all suck by yourself. Just ask my Dad. I took him out for his first run from Carry Brook down on the Kennebec last summer and rescued him three times … he’s still thinking about going kayaking again (sometime).
-Because they know where you keep your stash … you may not believe it, but they do.
-They may run away and then you’ll miss them very much (plus, once they’re gone, you won’t qualify for that Tax Credit any longer).
-Because, chances are, they have your name. This means your kids will be responsible for how your family is remembered.
-The Menendez Brothers.
-Because they will be the parents of your grandchildren. And you know you want your grandchildren to have nice parents.

by Tom Christopher - American Whitewater Conservation Chair

Water pollution seems to be everywhere-no matter where you live, work, or recreate. Bad water take its toll on our daily lives in the form of poisoned ponds and streams, polluted shorelines, closed beaches, and expensive water treatment facilities that cost millions of taxpayer dollars to construct and operate. Bacteria, chemicals, agricultural waste, siltation from poor forestry practices, and other pollutants make water unsafe for human activities, kill fish and wildlife, and destroys aquatic habitat for many organisms.

Pollution occurs in two primary ways. The first is point source pollution-stuff that comes out of a pipe from industry, wastewater treatment plants, and other sources that directly discharges into a river or stream. The Clean Water Act of 1972 enacted by Congress established jurisdiction over these activities. Properly implemented, this law sets goals and standards that provide various degrees of protection from this type of pollution, and has created restoration plans for many affected rivers and streams throughout the U.S. Through regulation, much of the Kennebec River and other important Maine rivers have seen significant improvements in their water quality

The second type of pollution, called non-point pollution is much more difficult to control. This contamination enters ponds, rivers, and streams diffusely over a wide geographic area. For example, storm-water runoff picks up animal waste from farms, chemicals from lawn applications and agriculture, grease and oil from roadways, and silt from clear cutting timber before finally draining into waterways. Non-point source pollution has become our nation’s largest water quality problem with over 2,000 major watersheds moderately to severely impaired.

Urban areas share a lot of the responsibility for non-point pollution even though they cover only 5% of the land in the continental United States. The same factors-slope, soil-type, and amount of rainfall affect both urban and rural environments, but in different ways. Traditionally, when compared to agricultural areas, storm water runoff from homes and gardens in urban areas often contains much higher concentrations of insecticides and fertilizers. Without the vegetative buffers that exist in rural areas, it is more likely these pollutants will not be absorbed before they reach our lakes and streams.

Agricultural districts with well-drained soils may have less runoff, but can also pollute groundwater sources and aquifers over time. This has been a problem identified in blueberry and potato production in several Maine counties.

As difficult as it is to believe, non-point sources contribute more contaminants than point sources, because point-sources are regulated. Having laws that place limits on the types and amounts of contaminants released to water has resulted in reductions in industrial sources and has created upgrades to wastewater treatment facilities. Although violations sometimes occur, legislation and enforcement have had a positive influence and overall water quality has improved.

So what can the average citizen do to help? Saving water and protecting it is everyone’s responsibility. It is not difficult for homeowners to take a few simple steps that make a difference and here are a few suggestions.

Repair leaky faucets and toilets right away by replacing washers and gaskets, because together, they can waste over 50 gallons of water a day. Turning off the tap when you brush your teeth or shave can save 3-5 gallons every time, and using a fully loaded dishwasher will prevent almost 800 gallons of water each month from going down the drain. The installation of water-saving showerheads and low-flush toilets will save the average family 14,000-17,000 gallons of water each year with the newer, high-efficiency models available today.

Dispose of household cleaners, paint and other chemicals safely. Many cleaning products found in our homes and garages are too dangerous to be disposed of in the trash or down the drain. Anything marked “Poison” or “Danger” should be taken to your local hazardous waste center. Keep your car in good running condition. Cars leak motor oil and other fluids onto our streets and driveways and when it rains, these contaminants run down our streets through storm drains and into our rivers and ponds. Preventing polluted run-off will help keep our drinking water safe. One quart of motor oil can pollute 250,000 gallons of river water, so never pour oil or paint into a storm drain or the trash.

Buy and use environmentally friendly products that cause less impact on our resources. Use organic fertilizers for your lawn and only water your lawn during the evening when the evaporation rate is low. Avoiding products that include chlorine, phosphates, and high levels of nitrate for greening lawns will help to remove pollutants. Using native landscape plants that require less care, and not cutting your lawn as often, reduces pesticides and water usage. Sweeping your walks and driveways instead of hosing them clean saves water, reduces siltation, and prevents contamination from lawn fertilizer.

Using common sense is the best way to protect our drinking water, and to insure we will have adequate supplies for the future. Citizens and local communities must recognize the importance of good water for both conservation purposes and the economic well being of cities and towns in Maine. The challenge for the future is to educate, focus, and collaborate to build a stewardship and creative solutions to achieve these goals.

Take a watershed approach to issues of land protection, land-use planning, water resource protection, and environmental education. Offer hands-on, science-based programs to children and adults both in the classroom and outdoors. Teaching children about point source and non-point source pollution, and the effect of that pollution on our water supply and wildlife habitats will help them become better stewards of our resources as adults.

Want to know more? Check out these clean river resources…
American Whitewater is a leading boaters-rights advocacy organization. Visit them online at:www.americanwhitewater.org	Maine Rivers’ mission is to protect, restore and enhance the health and vitality of Maine’s Rivers.www.mainerivers.org	River Network is a national leader in supporting grassroots river and watershed conservation groups.www.rivernetwork.org	RiverSmart is a national public education campaign helping Americans understand how daily water usage affects rivers. www.riversmart.orgwww.riversmart.org

The month of June rounded out with some wicked hot weather. Perhaps because of this, Harris Station has been generating lots of electricity and releasing lots of water. Local paddlers have been treated to many 6,000 cfs flows lately, sometimes even going as late as 9 p.m…. The Skowhegan Water Park idea is steadily becoming a reality. Gary Bailey, an engineer and paddler from Canaan, said he is part of a committee of folks who are forming a non-profit organization to orchestrate the Water Park construction. The group (and project) is called “The Run of River Project.” The proposed location for the park is on the Kennebec River in downtown Skowhegan, from below the railroad bridge to the eddy at Coburn Park. This is about 3,000 feet of river, on par with the length of other water parks throughout the country. Right now, organizers are planning to conduct a “feasibility study.” This study will attempt to take a general look at all affected interests to see if the project warrants further action. Fisheries, archaeology, geology, plot control, local economics and the effect on the dam’s tail-race (the water on the downstream side of the turbines, which affects the turbines’ ability to generate power) will all be examined during the feasibility study. Also, said Gary, a 3-D model of the location will be built and various flows will be run through it to get a sense of some of the paddling features that could be built. If the park were to come into existence, there would be no controlling the water flows, as the Skowhegan Dam is a “Run of River” dam. Gary said that this is why it is important to get paddlers’ input so many different water flow scenarios can be tested on the model, in front of many different boaters. This study will cost $20,000; half of which Gary said could be covered by a grant. The other $10,000 will be raised through fundraising and donations … Parents, The Forks Fish and Game Association (FFG) is offering a Youth Program for 10 to 15 year-old children. From July 8th to the 10th, Registered Maine Guides from FFG will be taking 20 youngsters canoeing out onIndian Pond. They will camp both nights at a remote island campsite. While on the pond and in the backcountry, these kids will get the chance to learn outdoor skills such as: fishing, wildlife tracking/identification, canoeing techniques, map/compass navigation and cooking in the outdoors. Stop by the FFG Flea Market/Bean Hole Supper on Saturday, July 5th at The Forks Fish and Game Hall in West Forks for more information. Or call Ken Christopher at 866 663-2646. Cost of Youth Program: Free with Junior Membership to The Forks Fish and Game Assn. ($5)

East vs. West

by Amy Leppo
“ The water is cold and then it runs out and then it sucks.” This is my eastern paddle buddy’s feelings on western boating.
“The river is fun but there are two many people. The eddies are packed.” This is my western paddle buddy’s impression of eastern boating.
So, what is the real deal? I had to figure it out for myself. After a couple of years of paddling in the Northeast, I decided it was time. Time for me to get out, see it, love it, paddle it and share my opinion. OK. What is the crucial difference between my beloved east and the wild, wild west? Volume. I know, I know, it is still high water here. Things haven’t dried out. And no, I haven’t paddled that river. Or that one. Just let me make a gross generalization, please! Up until this year, I have paddled on dam-controlled rivers. That is right. Pure fun. Big, warm, consistent water. It isn’t difficult to learn every wave and every hole at each of the 4 release levels. CFS made no matter to me. Big water was when Harris station checked the turbines. And I became intimate with several features on a particular stretch of river. Eddy access. Plenty of recovery time. Now, what about when there isn’t a dam? What happens? Well, the snow pack melts off and drains into tributaries, creeks and eventually, a river. This water adds up! For the past month I have been paddling anywhere from 10,000 to 50,000 cfs. And let me tell you, volume makes all the difference in my boating.
Last spring I paddled the Hudson at an obscene water level. The night before we paddled, I remember sitting in a bar watching flood advisories blinking bright red on the television. We woke up the next day and the river was at 10 feet and rising. That must have been 25,000 cfs. The swollen river provided tall, standing waves as far as I could see. Whitewater for miles. It took me a quarter mile to pull out of an eddy the river was so big! Features became rather, well, large. And the penalty points? Let’s just say swimming wasn’t an option.
So, these characteristics carry over to this big, ol’ river I find myself playing on these days. A typical, high volume, western river. The water came down before my intimidation wore off. Boating a river that doesn’t stop for 30+ miles is exhilarating. Around every corner is a powerful rapid. No recovery time. Cold water. And definitely no eddies. Actually, I take that back. There are a few eddies, but they are full of debris such as 60 foot Ponderosas. My friend calls them floating undercuts. It is all about staying in the current and loving every minute of this larger than life roller coaster ride.
So, the playboating. There are some phenomenal boaters out here. And they all have fast boats. I have a Liquid Logic Skip and a Prijon Delirious. After being crucified in the Skip for a week, I switched over to the Delirious. Hull speed is key. Popular boats here? The Necky Witch and the Prijon Delirium.
There are tons of playful features, but they can only be caught on the fly. No paddling back up for a ride. And walking back up isn’t worth it: There are about 50 million more features downstream to spin, carve and ride on. One chance on each wave. Period.
So, there is an update. The water is coming down. I’ll be sure to let you know how the boating evolves as the snowpack depletes.

Lunch Time

by Will Hartman
There was very little to be done at that point in time. My R2 partner and I both were clinging to the high side of the raft like drowned rats as it flipped violently backwards into Exterminator. Instantly my body was wrung like a wet rag as I hit the water and was dealt with by the hole. The next 30 seconds became a movie slow-mo as I swam balls-out for my raft through the Gorge. I swam over rocks and through Mass Hole and thought, “damn I want to be on that raft.” When we finally paddled our upside down boat into Dead Moose Eddy, I was a happy, happy man.
This was the scene of my second R2 down Ripogenus Gorge on the West Branch of the Penobscot and my first real meeting with the river-wide Exterminator Hole.
In hindsight, I’m glad it happened. Neither my R2 partner or I got hurt and it’s nice to know some of the worst the Gorge has to offer. Perhaps we got ourselves a little life lesson, too (I’d sure like to think so); even though we were high as high could be (on the side of the raft) there are some things that you just can’t prevent no matter how hard you try. As the saying goes; sometimes you eat the bear, and sometimes the bears eats you. And friends, we definitely got eaten.

I don’t know if it still will be by the time you read this, but right now, it is hot. Too hot. It’s 1 p.m. in Bingham and the digital thermometer at the bank says its 96 degrees Fahrenheit.
Now, I’m not from Texas or Ecuador, so when all of a sudden when the weather turns from 70 and rainy, to 95 and humid, like it did this week, I suffer greatly.
One tactic I employ to avoid discomfort on these sweltering summer days is to stay completely still. That’s right. I just don’t move and hope the heat passes me by … sorta like in the cartoons when Shagg and Scoob are being chased by a ghost or vampire and then they run around a corner and try to blend in with the statues. Inactivity leads to success.
Of course, there are other viable alternatives to beat the heat besides statue mode.
For example, what’s better then splashing in a crisp, cool river on a wicked hot day? (Besides that pervert.) Not much. And, believe me, there are several rafting outfitters in Maine just waiting to help you attain this reality (have your credit card number ready).
But, unless you’re one of those full time raft guides, river trips don’t exactly pay the bills.
With that in mind, I sit here typing in a pool of my own sweat. However, as hot as I feel, I can’t help thinking of those folks out there on Rt. 201 holding the ‘Stop/Slow’ sign at the construction sites. Just standing there in the heat: breathing in the fumes from Automobile America, enduring the stares of every passing motorist and sipping off a Big Slam Mountain Dew. I hope they give you guys a bonus for standing out there on these humid days, like maybe a special pass enabling you to cut all the cars waiting in the “Stop” line on your days off.
Back inside my office, air conditioning is the ultimate luxury. I don’t have it, so I try to concoct intricate cool-air-flow schemes to keep myself from overheating. For example, right now there is one fan blowing directly in my face while another rests in the open window, sucking the hot air from the room and blowing it outside. Complimenting the fans is a washcloth wrapped full of ice cubes resting on my neck. I also have a large bucket of water out back that I dunk my head in whenever the heat begins to frustrate me.
Another useful heat-beating trick I use – especially when there is a need to defrost some chicken, sausage or beef for supper – is to place frozen meat down my pants. Although health code officers may not approve of this practice in commercial eating establishments, I find keeping frozen meat inside my underpants an effective cool-down technique. Here’s a helpful tip: just make sure to remove the meat before it begins to decompose. (Anyone for dinner at my house tonight?)
Two serious dangers facing humans in the hot weather are sun burn and sun poisoning. A lot of people adopt the “No Sunscreen” strategy in the summer months, using logic such as this: “I prefer to let the sun burn my body until my skin peels off and re-grows as a tough, thick leather.” That way they get a base for a dark tan, and they get to let strangers peel the dead skin from their backs. Damn, people are numb. Almost everybody has a relative or a friend or knows someone with skin cancer; yet, instead of using others’ experience as a basis for our actions, our hot-day priorities are as follows: call in sick to work, beer, cooler, ice, cigarettes. If that’s not a recipe for a red neck, I don’t know what is.
When it comes to combining skin and sun, tan lines are almost as cool as sun poisoning sucks. Life jacket tans, Teva tans, sunglasses tans, jelly roll tans (“hey, look at the white stripes on Dilbert’s belly when he pushes out his stomach!”), watch tans, dry top tans. Collect them all.
Another thing I worry about on extremely hot days is the well-being of my Guns’n Roses tape collection inside my truck. My little Nissan becomes a greenhouse on these 95+ degree days, and everything inside it is subject to melting. Just yesterday, in fact, I opened up my dry bag (which was stowed behind the bench seat) to find melted Sex Wax oozing onto my sunglasses, baseball cap and bike lock. In the past three years, I have bought a new copy of “Appetite For Destruction” four times thanks to carnage from the sun. And forget about stashing energy bars in your vehicle for after the river; if you don’t have a cooler with ice, you’ll be drinking those Balance Bars.
So this summer, be sure to drink plenty of water, don’t forget the sunscreen, avoid direct sunlight in the hottest parts of the day and definitely don’t eat over to Nick’s house.

..A list by the editor:
-Uncle Henry’s Swap it or Sell it Guide.
-Moose and venison stew.
-Boat-building.
-The Penobscot River.
-Slow down, guy, this here is Maine, so there is no reason for you to be in such a hurry.
-State of Maine Agricultural Fairs.
-Fixing your own car (even if it’s just changing the oil, guy).
-Wicked good Maine-brewed dark beer.
-Hanging out around the counter at your favorite country store.
-Moxie Soda.
-Best junk yards in New England.
-Electing the only Independent Governor in United States history (that’s Angus King – the Governor before this one – for all you youngsters).
Editor’s Note: Several alert readers correctly pointed out that James Longley, of Lewiston, and Maine Governor from 1975 to 1979, was in fact an Independent as well…Damn! Another mistake by No Umbrella…
-Getting a lot done with whatever you can find in the backyard or the refrigerator.
-Wide open spaces.
-Worst black flies in the country.
-The DeLorme Maine Atlas and Gazetteer. (It’s the only DeLorme map that is blue; all the rest are red.)
-The Great Went, Lemonwheel, It.
-We border one state and two provinces.
-Coolest names for towns in the country.
-Morning comes to Maine before anywhere else in the country.
-Everywhere you go in the world, if you meet someone from Maine, you’ve got a friend – at least ‘til the two of you get to know each other.
-Cold winters, muddy springs, hot summers, crisp autumns.
-Paddling a canoe out to the middle of a lake with your sweetheart under a full moon when the loons are out.
-Tiny ski mountains.
-Picking blueberries on the top of Mosquito Mountain.
-The Blue Goose Dance Hall.
-Maine high school sports.
-Shortcuts.
-Walking on a dirt road lined with huge oak trees, so that it feels like your walking down a breezy hallway.
-Swimming in a lake right in your hometown.
-Straight talk.
-Summer camp.
-Five cents deposit on basically every container that holds liquid fit for human consumption.
-Aroostook County is bigger than Rhode Island and Connecticut combined.
-And it’s got some mighty tasty potatoes.

by Tom Christopher - American Whitewater Conservation Chair

The Kennebec River originates at the outlet of Moosehead Lake and flows southerly for 145 miles to the head of Merrymeeting Bay at Abagadassett Point, about seven miles above Bath, Maine. From Merrymeeting Bay the Kennebec waters continue south, through the Maine coastal area, another 20 miles to the Atlantic Ocean at Hunnewell Point. The main river is tidal as far as Augusta, 25 miles above Abagadassett Point. Between its origin and mean tide at Augusta, the river falls about 1,026 feet in a distance of 120 miles, as an average gradient of 8.5 feet per mile. The principal headwater tributary is the Moose River which drains 716 square miles of mountainous watershed area around Jackman, and flows easterly into Moosehead Lake.

Many watersheds, and the riverside communities within them, have undergone transformation over the years as the economic winds have changed. Global markets, technology, and other influences changed the backbone of numerous industries throughout the watersheds in Maine. Understanding the key assets of our watersheds is part of securing a stable future for our citizens and their communities.

Rivers like the Kennebec – that have defined their watershed’s economic and social patterns for generations – establish an identity to a region. As watershed protection continues as an important strategy, viewing each watershed as a collective unit must include more than just looking at town and county lines or political boundaries.

The watershed view must include many things. For example, communities that have developed a viable tourism component in their watershed economies have long recognized the economic advantages of being surrounded by beautiful natural landscapes and open space. Spectacular scenery, abundant wildlife, and open-space recreation provide opportunities for wildlife watchers, hiking, hunting, fishing, canoeing, and other activities.

The pressure of “urban sprawl” forces individual communities to examine their cultural connections to other communities; then each must decide what role it will play in ensuring progress and economic security for the greater watershed region. Retaining old and building new cultural connections amongst communities within a watershed is crucial in creating an image of any watershed.

If communities care about their region, they will work together to restore and protect its values. The strong social bonds that have developed over time provide watersheds with the assets to build and strengthen connections across communities. Collaboration is beneficial in many ways. The celebration of people and place preserve the old ways of life and paint a picture of the watershed region with vibrancy from the past. New traditions that come from change create threads that become part of the community fabric far into the future. It helps communities to revitalize downtowns, protect open space, and support a lifestyle for its residents.

Underlying this challenge is the ethic that each new generation needs to appreciate and understand their watershed, and their place in it. Conservation-based development and sustainable forest-use practices occurring in a manner consistent with the watershed ecological capacity is critical to building a sustainable future for all.

By offering a diversity of experiences and cultural amenities to visitors, a watershed region can present itself as a responsible collection of opportunities to enjoy and appreciate. Educational programs on the environment, sports, arts, crafts, and history enhance the experience of any visitor already attracted to the open space, recreational opportunities and the character of the region.

Each view of a watershed has many elements—from the natural features of its landscape, to the historical and cultural diversity of its cities and towns. Local groups can help by working with conservation groups, state agencies, planning boards, and elected officials to develop watershed awareness partnerships. Programs that reach out and work with local communities to provide diverse resources, technical information, and funding help our citizens in making key decisions throughout Maine. Focusing on partnering with local groups will help to improve the effectiveness of protecting resources within the Kennebec watershed.

Want to know more? Check out these clean river resources…
American Whitewater is a leading boaters-rights advocacy organization. Visit them online at:www.americanwhitewater.org	Maine Rivers’ mission is to protect, restore and enhance the health and vitality of Maine’s Rivers.www.mainerivers.org	River Network is a national leader in supporting grassroots river and watershed conservation groups.www.rivernetwork.org	RiverSmart is a national public education campaign helping Americans understand how daily water usage affects rivers. www.riversmart.orgwww.riversmart.org