On Sunday, June 12, 2022, I set out just before 5 AM with a river running kayak strapped to the roof of my car. An hour and a half later, along the side of the road in northern Vermont, I met up with two long time white water paddling friends. Dot, who had joined me for the first three days of this adventure, and Joanie, a very skilled white water paddler in her 70’s, were coming along for the fun. I was glad to have their company as the first ten miles of our run was listed as class II with one class III rapid.

We put in just below a section that was at least a class IV and nothing any of us would consider running. The water was running about 400 cubic feet per second (CFS) which is about average for this time of year. It is on the low end for running this rocky, fast water section of the northern Connecticut River and we assumed we would be hitting some rocks. We were right, though it was not as bad as we had feared.

I had not run rapids in a white water kayak for over three years and was a bit nervous. In my twenties I raced these boats, and could even roll one with my bare hands (to see a video of this go to https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_ZS99qPs8_w). But because of a boat failure during my college years I had to come out of my boat and was sucked into a standing hole. These are places where the water drops down over an obstacle such as a rock and then recirculates back up river, forming a standing hole that can be powerful enough to hold a paddler in one place or pull them under water. By the time I got out of the hole I was unconscious. A week later I forced myself to get back in my boat and though I kept paddling, I have never rid myself of all my fear.

My heart was racing a bit as we put in the river. I ferried back and forth a bit to get used to the river, made some good early turns and set off. I worked to lessen my fear by marveling at the number of insects swarming over the river. There were thousands of them. I truly don’t think I have ever before seen so many in one concentrated place. Breathing through an open mouth caused me to ingest quite a few of these winged critters.

Soon I was pinned sideways against a rock and was in danger of going over. I won’t repeat the words coming out of my mouth. Luckily I remembered that I had to lean down current into the rock, and with some strong paddling strokes I was able to free myself and continue upright down the river. A little later I watched as the same thing happened to Dot. I was setting myself up to rescue her when she managed to free herself with the counterintuitive movement of leaning down river into the rock.

For the rest of that first ten mile stretch I managed to stay upright by relying on my reading skills. Reading the river is an important skill and when I do it well I feel accomplished. (https://paddling.com/learn/reading-rivers) That rocky CT River felt like a giant obstacle course and while it was moving water, it was mild enough that even my aging brain had time to look ahead and chart my course through the rocks. By noticing which way the “V’s” were, or by looking at the shape of the waves I was able to avoid most of the rocks. And each time I maneuvered around rocks my confidence rose. I was able to relax and enjoy the rest of that white water stretch, glad for the company of friends.

I thought about how a number of things in paddling seem counter intuitive. One usually wants to lean up river when pinned on a rock, but that increases the risk of capsizing. Leaning down and into the obstacle is the safer way. When trying to straighten out a boat it seems intuitive to slow down and push away with a paddle near the stern of the boat on the side you want to turn towards. But it is usually safer to paddle forward with a sweep stroke from the front on the opposite side. This keeps forward momentum, which is important in moving water, as a boat that moves faster than the current is more easily controlled.

As the water became more calm and my mind had time to wander away from reading the river, I thought about how these counter intuitive motions are apt metaphors for life. Often there is a tendency to lean away from trouble or obstacles in our path, but I have found that by going towards them I can learn a lot. Rather than pushing away feelings or people who are difficult for me to deal with, if I work to embrace them I find I grow inside. When I sit with painful emotions, sometimes even curled in a ball of pain, I usually discover the source of that pain and in doing so I feel it release from my core being. Just as leaning into the rock frees me from its grip, leaning into my pain frees me from the influence it holds on the rest of my life.

I am grateful for the lessons of the river.