AUTHOR’S NOTE: The intent of this column is entertainment, usually at the expense of truth and accuracy, but I sneak in some good information as well. It is up to the reader to distinguish between entertainment and reality amidst all the circumlocution and misdirection in these sketches.
Q: Why does a canoe float?
A: If you recall last month’s discussion about the natural dis-affinity paddles have with canoes, you will be way ahead on today’s answer. Back to Aristotelian principles, canoes float because they want to get away from the water, and floating is as close as they can get to hovering or flying, which to them (the canoes) would be a much better situation. They are similar to the rocks in last month’s feature in that they would prefer being next to the ground than next to the water. Similar to the example I provided in that exposé of trapping a paddle with multiple canoes surrounding it, if you fill a canoe with enough water, it will eventually lose its ability to float because it is trying to get away from the water, which is applying pressure simultaneously from below and from inside. It is a very unhappy canoe at this point, and it will sink from overwhelming depression and a lack of will to continue.
Q: Why did it take so long to find the ancient paddles we see in museums?
Star Carr Mesolithic straight-shaft paddle: 11,504 years old
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Duvensee Mesolithic bent-shaft paddle:
8,527 years old |
A: You need to put yourself in the position of the ancient, flat-world explorers and archeologists, along with their technology. Back in the day, there were no LED headlamps, magnetometers, ground-penetrating radar sonographic equipment or government grants. They were using wire coat hangers, holding them loosely in their hands and waiting for them to cross before they started digging. This resulted in a very low probability of finding anything, since the results were entirely random. And they weren’t getting paid for their efforts. Also, we must consider that the stuff we are looking for today, those people did not see as special in any way, so they were not looking for these things. For example, the paddles above were not special to the people who used them or to the 16th-century archeologists who could have been looking for them, but they are pretty exciting to us because they show a few-thousand-year gap between straight-shaft and bent-shaft introductions. This is also interesting to us because the bent-shaft design was lost, and we had to re-invent the wheel, so to speak, in the 20th century AD.
Q: Is there anywhere you have experienced a particularly challenging bit of water?
A: I’m afraid so. It’s a little embarrassing, because my nemesis is not inherently difficult, it’s just that I’m so busy taking photos, looking around and watching others, that every time I run this segment, I encounter a surprise that flips me over. This photo is looking upstream at the end of Rock Slide at the top of Santa Elena Canyon. I have come through here 4 times, I believe, and every time I got wet – very wet. The last time was pure carelessness because the water was so gentle and predictable that I just let my guard down.
Q: What did Irish poet, author, priest and philosopher John “Meister Eckhart” O’Donohue say that would be relevant to our lives as river enthusiasts?
BONUSES:
Q: What is “tumblehome”?
A: This is a disparaging term used to describe a condition of less than perfect tidiness in a boater's living quarters.
Q: Can you provide us a kayaking challenge in this month’s edition?
A: Certainly! Anything for you, dear reader.
The Challenge:
Virtually scout this section of river and identify the optimal “line” for running this rapid such that Alice, our club recorder, wouldn’t be terrified:
WORD OF THE MONTH: Xeric
(concerning a habitat or environment) Containing little moisture; very dry
Lajitas area Pecos Put-in
Used in a sentence:
The Rio Grande/Bravo flowing through Colorado, Santa Elena and Boquillas Canyons and the Pecos River above Lake Amistad are narrow, fertile ribbons coursing through some of the most xeric regions of Texas.
The BEAVER, ALICE, the DUCK, the Armadillo, the Water Moccasin, the Crazy Flower and the Bear
Well, as Geoffrey glass-half-empty Chaucer wrote in his book of proverbs, all good things must come to an end, and this little series seems to have run its course. Upon our return to Arkansas at the end of November, Alice (no relation to our club recorder) was nowhere to be seen. We have to assume she ate everything that had some meat on it and went on to clear greener pastures. With Alice going the way of the beaver, the armadillo, the little water moccasin and the crazy flower (mowed for hay), there’s not much left to write about, except the bear. And the big water moccasin still remains at large – MIA.
RANDOM GOOD THING:
This came in from one of my loyal readers, Duane Hecklesberg, and it is indeed share-worthy. While the vessel is different from those we paddle (a raft), the rivers are the same ones, and many of the situations described by this professional speaker are common with ours. It is hilarious – well worth every one of the 27.5 minutes you will invest.
The Rafting Story – Jeannie Robertson:
https://youtu.be/oG4X1Bn4h3Y
GOOD ONE (but I wouldn’t count on it being 100% accurate):
MUG O’ THE MONTH:
OVERHEARD . . .
PARTING THOUGHT:
I may have used this once before. If I did, it was a long time ago, and it is worth repeating.
Sometimes you find yourself in the middle of nowhere,
. . . and sometimes, in the middle of nowhere, you find yourself.