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: What is the purpose of a spray skirt?
A: To answer this question fully, we have to go back to its origins. Originally, this device was known as a snack suppressor, and was one of the gimmicks developed by a popular weight-loss franchise to keep people from snacking too much while kayaking. The idea was that it took so much effort to attach the snack suppressor to your body and to the kayak that you would think at least twice about pulling it off to get to your snacks. It didn’t take long before some clever kayakers converted this concept into a spectacular failure. They simply bungeed their snacks to the deck in front of them and used the snack suppressor as a convenient table.
An unintended side effect of the snack suppressor was that it prevented the water that was always dripping from your paddle from soaking your lap, which, in turn, caused raised eyebrows at every break. However, it was the third unintended side effect that earned the snack suppressor its current name, spray skirt. It was eventually observed that, in addition to keeping your lap dry from paddle-weep, when paddling in the wind and waves of the coast, it also kept the wind-driven spray from soaking your clothes. Perhaps the next evolution in the naming of this item will come when John Gault integrates the whitewater imperative of keeping all of the active water around you on the outside of the kayak into the moniker.
Q: Why does water run downhill?
A: Aristotle would say that it’s because water seeks its own, and the smaller waters are attracted to, and always trying to join up with, the bigger waters. Sir Isaac Newton would say it’s because of gravity. Albert Einstein would couch it in terms of a space-time continuum, and Dr. Emmet C. Brown would see it as a means to an end in his flux capacitor. Eric Jackson takes a similar selfish view that it was designed so we can have whitewater and waterfalls to add excitement to kayaking. At the end of the day, I’m not so sure any of them really nailed it, as I attempt to resolve all of these observations with the tons of water that float effortlessly and majestically overhead in the clouds:
There is one other consideration – kayakers are not the brightest bulbs on the shelf, and are often navigationally challenged, so the fact that water always runs downhill assures that the majority of them will head in the right direction when they set out on their adventures. Could this be an instance of “Intelligent Design” frustrating the prime evolutionary directive and subsidizing the survival of the inferior?
Q: What is the most important emergency item you bring with you?
A: There is no single item, because there are no single emergencies.
I have a kit I bring on every paddle. It consists of:
- A fairly comprehensive first aid kit (the Bruce Bodson trip coordinators kit in a waterproof box)
- A spare 4-piece paddle
- Dry clothes and a dry towel in a dry bag
- A throw bag and painters
- Flex Seal tape and a screwdriver (one of my kayaks has a cracked hull and you never know...)
- A whistle
- Permanent identification on the inside of my kayak cockpit
This adds about 10 pounds to my overall weight but provides about 2 tons of value when needed.
NOTE: I have needed each of these items over the past years except the label.
Q: What did Wisconsin writer / photographer / teacher Jeff “NatGeo” Rennicke say about a river that could resonate with our chosen form of escape?
There is no rushing a river. When you go there, you go at the pace of the water and that pace ties you into a flow that is older than life on this planet. Acceptance of that pace, even for a day, changes us, reminds us of other rhythms beyond the sound of our own heartbeats.
Q: How is “paradoxical intention”, as defined by Victor Frankl, used in kayaking?
A: This is a fun one. This is where, in order to “fix” a problem, you aim yourself squarely at the problem with full intention of executing it, and in so doing, you attain the opposite effect. This doesn’t work so well when trying to avoid rocks and cane and sweepers and strainers and waterfalls, but in some areas, it works pretty well. Like if you want to avoid alligators, you should paddle straight toward one, and, most of the time, it will get out of your way. Of course, there is the possibility that your particular alligator is not on the same page or is not one of the “most-of-the-time” alligators, in which case it could be postulated that you chose poorly, and it was your own damn fault that we are now visiting you in the hospital.
Actually, one could legitimately infer from these observations that Victor was not a kayaker or canoeist.
Q: How can you tell if an alligator is mellow when you encounter one?
A: Paddle up to it and stick your hand in the water. If he bites your hand, he is not
mellow, he is normal.
WORD OF THE MONTH: Otiose
Serving no practical purpose or result
Used in a sentence:
The totenkopf/Jolly Roger/pirate motif on Amy’s things appears menacing, but in the end, like most other adornments, is otiose.
RANDOM GOOD THING (Public Service Announcement):
GOOD ONE:
MUG O’ THE MONTH:
OVERHEARD . . .
PARTING THOUGHT:
