Lost and found

Alec demonstrates proper hand position--and paddle balancing skills.

Yesterday, we led a three-hour tour semi-officially titled “getting lost with the out-of-town instructors.” We were to lead a small group on local waters, identifying flora and fauna and sharing local knowledge. Robert and Kerrie helped us file our float plan and suggested a few routes appropriate to the group and conditions. Then Kerrie went to get our three participants, leaving us to prepare our boats and gear.
As soon as she was safely out of view and earshot, we confided to each other that while we felt confident with our navigation skills and our ability to safely shepherd three novice paddlers up and down Queenstown Creek, we have an almost pathological inability to remember the names of plants and animals and those things with fins or shells that live in the water. We call these conditions “floraphasia,” “faunaphasia” and “pescophasia.”
Fortunately, we were able to keep our categories straight. We agreed that most of the living things on land that don't move and aren't man-made are plants, that creatures with wings that fly or sit in nests are generally birds or insects, and that most of the moving stuff in the water is marine life. Feeling much more confident, we awaited our hapless participants.
As it turns out, we got lucky in a variety of ways. While our three participants were interested in nature, they were far more excited about being on the water than in identifying plants and animals. We had a great time poking into coves, discovering methane in a marsh, and running into a rare Maryland alligator. (It turned out to be a log.)

Alex comes nose to nose with a rare Maryland Alligator.

We accurately identified several bald eagles and found some of their nests. We even had time to stop on a sand spit, where our guests were delighted to find several colors of sea glass and helped us rescue three stranded horseshoe crabs.

Sharon looks for beach glass while the tour participants compare their finds.

It was a lovely morning, and all of us went away happy.
In all seriousness, we had been a bit nervous that morning. We weren't sure how well we would be able to guide a trip in an unfamiliar location, so we focused on what we felt were our weaknesses. That could have blinded us to what our guests actually wanted, which was an opportunity to enjoy being on the water together.
We think it's quite natural, when preparing for any class or a trip, to worry about whether you'll do the best possible job. We typically brainstorm ideas, make an outline, write it down, worry about whether we can pull it off, make a lot of jokes, run out of time and hope for the best. When we tune into what our students really want, not just our concerns about what we think they want, we generally find things turn out very well.

This poor guy would have died if we hadn't rescued him.
(The horseshoe crab, not the tour participant.)

Why a women's class?

Most classes begin with individual boat fit so that students feel comfortable in their kayaks and can control them well.

Saturday's “women on the water” class was, in many ways, typical of other all-female classes I've taken and taught. The participants ranged from timid to almost fearless, from novice to intermediate, from goal-oriented to open-to-anything. But what they all had in common was this: They wanted to learn in a supportive environment where nobody would judge them, and that's what an all-women's class meant to them.
It's funny, when you think about. Are women any less judgmental than men? Not necessarily. But they often are more supportive of one another, particularly when they are overcoming their fears and gaining new skills. In a mixed gender class, you're less likely to see a spontaneous round of applause after someone screws up her confidence and finally attempts a scoop rescue on a fellow paddler. You're more likely to see a someone hanging back and watching instead of trying new skills. But in a women-only class, there's a lot of encouragement and positive reinforcement. Students root for each other and celebrate each other's accomplishments. It's a case of gender camaraderie at its best.
Our Saturday class began with two students refusing to do a “wet exit.” One saw no need; the other was afraid. Sizing up the conditions (warm water and air, calm seas, no spray skirts), I hastily devised the “modified wet exit,” in which I would hold the student's hands while she flipped her boat and came out. Both students agreed to do this and executed it easily, proving to themselves and to me that they would come out of their boats if they accidentally capsized.
By contrast, one student came to class with the wet exit high on her list of desired skills. She had never done one and was a little afraid she wouldn't be able to. After she pulled one off, she was ecstatic, and kept doing it over and over just to reinforce the skill. Her pride was infectious; the excitement of the whole class ratcheted up several notches.
The rest of the class entailed a mix of teaching and playing, with the games reinforcing the skills. For example, after teaching turning strokes and draw strokes, we played kayak basketball, in which students attempted to toss tennis balls into each other's cockpits. When they missed their targets, they had to retrieve the balls from the water by using the strokes they had learned. The beauty of doing this through games is that the stroke practice happens naturally. The students laugh and focus on what they're trying to accomplish. The paddle skills are no longer an end, but a means to an end, which means they're actually useful.

There was a time when I would have been skeptical about the need for all-women's classes. I grew up with only brothers and always had male friends. My husband is my favorite paddling partner. And yet, when I was first learning to kayak, I took a few women's classes and appreciated how comfortable I felt making mistakes and learning in an all-female environment. Now I watch my students gravitating toward that same kind of supportive, encouraging community and benefiting from the camaraderie it creates, and I'm sold on providing this option for women.One of the best ways to get comfortable with a kayak is to play in it.

With confidence comes competence

Aht came to class determined to learn a wet exit and how to stop her boat so she wouldn't crash into things. She quickly gained those skills and moved on to turning strokes, draw strokes and kayak tag.

We got a leisurely start yesterday. Robert cooked us a hearty breakfast of hash browns, pancakes and vegetarian sausage (with help on the pancakes from Jeremy) and we finalized our class plans. By 11 a.m., Robert, Dan (who is working for him), Alec and Sharon were out on the water practicing some ideas for teaching the rolling class. Sharon and Hannah also mapped out the women on the water class, which is essentially a two-star training with a heavy infusion of games and an accommodation to some of the issues and competencies particular to women. (More on that later.)
At 1 p.m., the launch area was awash in boats and students. There was a palpable sense of excitement and a little bit of nervousness. Beginners, in particular, often feel a combination of eager anticipation and fear. They're attracted to kayaking—that's why they're taking a class--but they're not sure what's expected or how well they'll do, and some of them are worried about everything from looking foolish to drowning.
A little fear is a good thing. We want people to take seriously the risks associated with paddling. Too much fear, however, is stifling. In nearly every class, there's at least one student whose fears prevent him or her from taking on the challenges that build skills. Often, the “wet exit” is the first obstacle. This is maneuver used for getting out of a capsized kayak. We teach it methodically: when you're upside down, slap the sides of your boat three times, then bring them to your cockpit coaming; slide your hands forward, push the grab loop on your spray skirt forward, then pull it back to release the skirt; loosen the skirt all the way back, then place your hands about hip-position on your coaming; push with your arms and come out of the cockpit as though you're taking off a pair of pants; hold on to your boat and your paddle.
The truth is, most students are able to do a wet exit with little or no instruction. They may not slap the side of the boat. They'll probably lose the paddle. It definitely won't be pretty. But they won't drown. Once they know they can wet exit, they're ready to learn to do it with less panic and loss of equipment. And once they're over the fear of capsize, they're willing to take on other risks that allow them to build their skills as paddlers.
Too little fear, by contrast, is dangerous. A student with too much machismo is an annoyance in a class and worse, a danger to himself.
I'll take a fearful beginner over an overconfident one any time. Fear can be overcome with patient instruction. With confidence comes competence, and with competence more well-earned confidence. It's a pleasure to be a part of that process.

Nancy has the kind of attitude that enables her to gain skills swiftly
and have fun no matter what she's doing.

Carol wasn't sure she wanted to paddle at all.
She turned out to have genuine talent and a can-do attitude.

(Photos on this post courtesy of Chiara, one of the delightful women in the "women on the water" class.)

a long journey into night

Ready to roll, literally.

We didn't manage to break our record of never quite getting on the road as early as we intended. Still, we were crossing the Skyway shortly after 7 a.m. There's something morbidly attractive about the view from the bridge—a gritty, industrial landscape that somehow evokes a feeling of might along with an awareness of pollution.

The gritty, industrial view from the Chicago Skyway.

Google Maps promised us a 12-hour journey. Apparently, nobody at Google headquarters stops for bathrooms or ice cream. I'm sure they also don't base time estimates on 11-year-old, four-cylinder Honda minivans loaded with gear and pulling trailers holding eight kayaks. For us, it was a 14-hour journey.
But it's so easy to keep everyone entertained these days. When the kids were little, we plied them with toys and read them books (and also stopped every hour or two). When they were in elementary school, we discovered books on tape. Now we're a mobile media unit. We plug an inverter into the cigarette lighter and power two laptops. Jeremy spent much of the trip writing a program for a line-following robot on one. Alec and I took turns watching a kayak DVD and writing on the other. And Hannah alternately listened to her iPod and caught up on her sleep.

We rolled in around 10 p.m.750 miles later, we've arrived at Adventure Crafters.

Ready or not....

It's just after 10 p.m. Eight boats are strapped to our trailer. We've packed our gear bags and paddles, our kayaking and camping gear, our books and clothes, our food and espresso pot. Our 1997 Honda Odyssey is ready to put all four cylinders into pulling our trailer and hauling all of us east to Maryland, north into Ontario, and back home again--a journey that easily makes up for the lack of miles we put on our car during the rest of the year.
Here's the plan: We leave early tomorrow morning (we're aiming for 5:30 a.m.) and arrive in Queenstown in the early evening. We'll be teaching at Adventure Crafters for two or three days. On Saturday, Sharon & Hannah will be teaching a women's paddling class while Alec & Robert teach a rolling class and Jeremy rides his unicycle and flies his kites. On Sunday, Alec & Sharon will teach a rescues class while Hannah, Jeremy & Robert teach a kids' class on playing in your boat. On Monday or Tuesday we'll head to the ocean to play in the waves with Robert, Kerrie & Noah. At some point, we'll return to Queenstown so Robert & Kerrie can get some work done. We'll leave them on Friday and head up to Ontario to visit relatives near Ottawa for a couple of days, then head over to Madawaska Kanu Center, where the kids will take a five-day whitewater course and Alec & Sharon will camp, hike, paddle and hang out.
We'll try to post blog entries daily and include photos as often as we can, Internet access permitting. But right now, we'd better go to bed.
zzzzz