"He who does something at the head of one Regiment, will eclipse he who does nothing at the head of a hundred."
~Abraham Lincoln~
It is good to get back to writing about The Island life and The James..........but first, a quick conclusion to last weeks controversial, yet bitterly truthful post.........Curt Autry gave his opinion and I will need to consider whether or not to post it here........I am waiting to hear a second response. He thinks I am an asshole (Shocker!).....and he is right about the post he read, but then again, I am only an asshole about one topic and one group of people.......otherwise I am a nice guy. Mr. Autry, you are an asshole about everything. Enough said.
I would also like to thank Cameron Hall. You are a man of integrity and the only boater willing to publicly display your thoughts and to discuss the situation openly and honestly; for that I thank you and hope you were shown the respect you deserved. We can all make a difference here if we can find a way to work together and believe in the idea of what a community should be.....especially one that needs to change its public image. That is the message that was hopefully driven home in the end. The longer we sit back and say, "I am just going to stay quiet and not get involved", the more chance there is to see the situation stay the same or escalate. Finally, I am well aware of how ugly it was. I knew it was ugly before I even posted it, so don't bother telling me. At least I don't hide my actions.
Now, back to The Island Life!
Friday, May 24, 2013
Week Four - "RVa History.....from the Civil War to The Great Floods"
“So many people live within unhappy circumstances and yet will not take the initiative to change their situation because they are conditioned to a life of security, conformity, and conservatism, all of which may appear to give one peace of mind, but in reality nothing is more damaging to the adventurous spirit within a man than a secure future. The very basic core of a man's living spirit is his passion for adventure. The joy of life comes from our encounters with new experiences and hence there is no greater joy than to have an endlessly changing horizon, for each day to have a new and different sun.”
~Christopher McCandless~
Week Four saw things transition......with the start of a new job. One of my friends was having a baby! The Canal Walk Maintenance Team was down a man with the wonderful arrival, and I happened to have a lifestyle that fit into the job, plus I knew I could learn a lot and was a very hard worker. The Canal Walk area is overseen and operated by Venture Richmond, a non-profit organization with the following mission:
Venture Richmond engages business and community leaders in partnering with the city to enhance the vitality of the community, particularly downtown, through economic development, marketing, promotion, advocacy and events.
"A rich man's war and a poor man's fight..."
~Southern opposition slogan, in The Civil War by Shelby Foote~
Our city's history is rich and tragic at the same time. As most of you know, on April 2nd, Eighteen Sixty Five (broken key) the Confederate troops burned Richmond to the ground as they crossed the Manchester Bridge to retreat South and escape the advancing Union Army. What you may not know, is the intention was not to burn the entire city, just the buildings that would benefit the Union Army. However, the night of the siege, a strong wind was blowing and the fire spread throughout Richmond, causing astronomical damage that impacts our city to this day. The following images show the devastation endured immediately after the Civil War.
~Christopher McCandless~
Week Four saw things transition......with the start of a new job. One of my friends was having a baby! The Canal Walk Maintenance Team was down a man with the wonderful arrival, and I happened to have a lifestyle that fit into the job, plus I knew I could learn a lot and was a very hard worker. The Canal Walk area is overseen and operated by Venture Richmond, a non-profit organization with the following mission:
Venture Richmond engages business and community leaders in partnering with the city to enhance the vitality of the community, particularly downtown, through economic development, marketing, promotion, advocacy and events.
Focus
- Support the strategic direction of the city
- Engage senior business and community leaders
- Provide a resource to the city to advance key economic and promotional initiatives
- Leverage resources of organizations throughout the region
- Provide enhanced services downtown
- Marketing, promotion and events management
- The Clean & Safe program, including sidewalk cleaning and safety ambassadors
- Landscaping, riverfront canal management, beautification
- Canal operations, tour boats, etc.
- Canal Walk planning and development
- Support efforts to enhance the business climate
- Support teacher recruitment and recognition initiative
- Help build successful school-business partnerships
- Ensure diverse representation and benefit
- Maintain board makeup that reflects diversity of community
- Promote corporate supplier diversity
- Operate in an accountable and efficient manner
- Increase return on investment to private investors and city government
This is an incredible organization and I was excited about the opportunity. Seriously, the things Venture Richmond create all have one goal in mind.......MAKE RVA BETTER! To be able to participate in that style of a mission meant a lot to me, because I felt that my mission paralleled in a way, the people who work there are good people, and it is a quality organization. I report to work at The Canal Walk Marina where the Canal Walk tour boats are housed and maintained. This work location gives me the option to literally paddle to work. I can walk to the Western Tip of the island, cross the pool above the Middle Lines and run Pipeline before paddling to The Fourteenth Street takeout and then walking down the path to the marina. I even have the option of stopping at Third Drop and walking up the Canal Walk to get my morning coffee. Then I get back in my boat and paddle the rest of the way to work. Pretty cool, isn't it?
So if you think about it, I am not that different from all of you. I get up, eat breakfast, dig a cat hole (yep....it is what you think it is....like I said, shit happens), take a morning walk, brush my teeth, and start my morning commute. Sometimes I even shower. (otherwise known as a bucket with holes poked in the bottom. Fill it with river water, hang it in a tree, and BAM!, you have a shower. Chris McCandless taught me that in his writing.) The only difference between me and all of you is while you sit in traffic, I paddle whitewater. Once I get to work, I change into my work clothes and start my day. I get off work around 3:30pm and walk to the coffee shop by way of the Canal Walk and spend an hour or so writing and checking messages. On the way there, I stop and talk to the homeless who are lining the Floodwall ledges and the Canal Walk, and sometimes I walk to the coffee shop with one of them. (I will discuss this in detail in a later post) Then I walk back down to The Canal, where I can make the choice to walk to my car, or drive my car (if it is at work) back across the bridge, where I park, walk up the Floodwall, and commute back home to the island by way of kayak. This is a normal day for me. It is a good life, minus one BIG thing, but you all know what that is by now.
The other benefit to my job is that it immerses me in the rich history of our city and the river. If you have ever taken a Canal Boat Tour then you know you are treated to a forty minute history tour of the Bottom and The Canal, and you can learn a lot. The tours are cheap, only six bucks, so it is a great thing for Richmond, and if you haven't been, you should go. Although I am not a boat operator, I pay close attention to everything that I see and am learning, and my boss and closest friend loves his job and is very good at what he does; so when you see the Canal Walk and think how nice it looks, that is the result of Venture Richmond and dedication of my boss.......so to the organization, Thank You for the opportunity and for believing in me.
"A rich man's war and a poor man's fight..."
~Southern opposition slogan, in The Civil War by Shelby Foote~
Our city's history is rich and tragic at the same time. As most of you know, on April 2nd, Eighteen Sixty Five (broken key) the Confederate troops burned Richmond to the ground as they crossed the Manchester Bridge to retreat South and escape the advancing Union Army. What you may not know, is the intention was not to burn the entire city, just the buildings that would benefit the Union Army. However, the night of the siege, a strong wind was blowing and the fire spread throughout Richmond, causing astronomical damage that impacts our city to this day. The following images show the devastation endured immediately after the Civil War.
- This fire destroyed over 1000 buildings in the Richmond area. Before the Civil War, the Port of Richmond helped the city to grow dramatically, and Richmond was considered to be one of the largest and most vibrant cities on the East Coast. After the Civil War, the area was devastated and although reconstruction helped, we were never the same. The ports of Savannah and Baltimore were then built, locking us between ports and driving shipping either north or south.
- There are many lesser known stories during this time as well. The following is an exert from the Canal Walk Tour:
"Lincoln's visit to Richmond (at the conclusion of the War) came just two days after Jefferson Davis and his Confederate Cabinet fled by special trains to Danville, Virginia. Lincoln's character was on display as he stopped in Richmond. After arriving at Rockett's Landing on April Fourth, Lincoln was rowed by 12 sailors to a wharf near Libby Prison around 17th Street (remember that during this time in Richmond, the Canal Locks came much deeper into the city center, all the way to the James Center). He stepped out and found no reception committee, only a Northern reporter he recognized, Charles S. Coffin of the Boston Journal. Coffin described a scene in which a party of 20 -- Lincoln and his 12 year old son Tad, 12 sailors with carbines, four naval officers, Coffin and a black guide -- walked toward the house that Jefferson Davis had vacated recently. As they stepped through the streets, Lincoln 'manifested no signs of exultation', his face a mask of 'indescribable sadness' as a great column of smoke rose above the destroyed city, Coffin wrote. Crowds of freed slaves, meanwhile, swelled around him, praising God and blessing Lincoln........Lincoln walked in silence. 'It was the man of the people among the people,' Coffin wrote. Five days later, on April 9th, the day Lee surrendered, Lincoln was back in Washington. Five days after that, on April (Fourteenth) he was mortally wounded at Ford's Theatre. He died the next day."
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| This is a picture of the original Turning Basin that was located where the James Center is today. The State Capital is on the hillside. Lincoln was rowed near Libby Prison, close to where the parking lot of Main Street Station is today. |
The next time you take a walk to the Canal, or the river, think about the footsteps of those who walked there before you, and consider yourself blessed to have never have had to witness what our city had to endure to get to where it is today.
“The river itself portrays humanity precisely, with its tortuous windings, its accumulation of driftwood, its unsuspected depths, and its crystalline shallows, singing in the Summer sun. Barriers may be built across its path, but they bring only power, as the conquering of an obstacle is always sure to do. Sometimes when the rocks and stone-clad hills loom large ahead, and eternity itself would be needed to carve a passage, there is an easy way around. The discovery of it makes the river sing with gladness and turns the murmurous deeps to living water, bright with ripples and foam.”
~Myrtle Reed~
“The river itself portrays humanity precisely, with its tortuous windings, its accumulation of driftwood, its unsuspected depths, and its crystalline shallows, singing in the Summer sun. Barriers may be built across its path, but they bring only power, as the conquering of an obstacle is always sure to do. Sometimes when the rocks and stone-clad hills loom large ahead, and eternity itself would be needed to carve a passage, there is an easy way around. The discovery of it makes the river sing with gladness and turns the murmurous deeps to living water, bright with ripples and foam.”
~Myrtle Reed~
Not only is the deeply enriched history of our city an amazing topic, but the history of our river and it's great floods are an intriguing topic to research as well. DJ Jennings, who is one of the most knowledgeable historians of the James I know, created the following statistics to help me understand the behavior of the James, as well as the chances of seeing a major flood during my time on the island.
James River Historic Flood Data For Richmond
My theory is that the reading of forty five feet was a different gauge system, not accurate because it was in 1771, and if it was the Locks Gauge then the tidal swell was fully in. Regardless, a reading of forty five feet shows the power the James is capable of producing at Flood. The following images are from different floods throughout the recent history of the city.
These images were all taken before the construction of the Floodwall, and since it was built in the early 90's there has only been one flood greater than 20 feet, and it barely reached the Floodwall. When the flood does finally come that will require the wall (and it will come one day), the constriction of the water through the Floodwall will probably make the flood that much worse in the actually river, which is where I plan to be. Plus, the island is located right in the center of the Floodwall, so it is in a pretty intense spot for a flood, as the following picture illustrates.
The trees in the middle of the picture are what was left of the island I live on during the Camille flood of '69, but the river is also completely washed out (meaning the rapids are gone). The train bridge below the island has giant strainers (piles of trees) against the upstream side of it, which would create a deadly situation. These photos do help me understand the behavior of the river at flood. Take all the water that you see in the above picture spilling into the Manchester District (Southside), and push it back into the river and then dam it up with a giant wall. That is what the flood would be like today, which if you think about it, is bothersome to anyone who would happen to be on the island at the time of a major flood.
My interest in the history of The James, The Canal, our city, and The Civil War comes from a childhood filled with history lessons from my father. It is one of the things that he passed down to me, and hopefully will be something I am able to pass down to my sons one day. Until I am allowed that chance again, I hope that you enjoy reading about our great city and river, because both are truly unique attributes we should never take for granted. .
You can clearly see from the statistics that
our city is overdue for a twenty plus foot flood. The other statistic that I found interesting
was the months of the year that these floods are most likely to occur. The only two months out of the year that were
not on this chart were May and July. I
found this surprising because it shows that The James is capable of flooding at
any time of the year, and its flood patterns are unpredictable. In fact, the data for monthly 20+ foot floods is evenly dispersed throughout the year.
20+ Foot Floods by Month
January 1
February 1
March 2
April 2
May 0
June 1
July 0
August 2
September 3
October 1
November 1
December 2
This data shows that floods through the James River section of Richmond can happen from a variety of weather patterns. Winter time brings floods caused from winter rains and snows in the mountains that cover the entire watershed with evenly dispersed rains. Additionally, during this time of the year the leaves are not on the trees, increasing the water table and allowing for more run-off. In the spring, heavy thundershowers and spring rains in the mountains can create large rises, especially when the patterns persist for days and even weeks at a time. And in the late summer and early fall, tropical systems moving west from the Atlantic Ocean slip up the east coast and create large rainfall totals in the mountains, causing quick rises in the James, which can allow the river to transition from low water summer flows to major floods overnight.
20+ Foot Floods by Month
January 1
February 1
March 2
April 2
May 0
June 1
July 0
August 2
September 3
October 1
November 1
December 2
This data shows that floods through the James River section of Richmond can happen from a variety of weather patterns. Winter time brings floods caused from winter rains and snows in the mountains that cover the entire watershed with evenly dispersed rains. Additionally, during this time of the year the leaves are not on the trees, increasing the water table and allowing for more run-off. In the spring, heavy thundershowers and spring rains in the mountains can create large rises, especially when the patterns persist for days and even weeks at a time. And in the late summer and early fall, tropical systems moving west from the Atlantic Ocean slip up the east coast and create large rainfall totals in the mountains, causing quick rises in the James, which can allow the river to transition from low water summer flows to major floods overnight.
One consideration to take into account concerning floods is that the data collected above only dates back to 1871. However, the following historical plaque is located in Henrico County.
My theory is that the reading of forty five feet was a different gauge system, not accurate because it was in 1771, and if it was the Locks Gauge then the tidal swell was fully in. Regardless, a reading of forty five feet shows the power the James is capable of producing at Flood. The following images are from different floods throughout the recent history of the city.
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| Looking out at the south side of Belle Isle. Camille in 1969 |
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| South side of Belle Isle in eighty five flood |
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| Fourteenth Street Bridge and Southern States Silos in 1972 Agnes Flood |
.jpg) |
| The old Manchester Bridge with the water to the top of the Stone Pillars |
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| Shockhoe Bottom in 1972 |
These images were all taken before the construction of the Floodwall, and since it was built in the early 90's there has only been one flood greater than 20 feet, and it barely reached the Floodwall. When the flood does finally come that will require the wall (and it will come one day), the constriction of the water through the Floodwall will probably make the flood that much worse in the actually river, which is where I plan to be. Plus, the island is located right in the center of the Floodwall, so it is in a pretty intense spot for a flood, as the following picture illustrates.
The trees in the middle of the picture are what was left of the island I live on during the Camille flood of '69, but the river is also completely washed out (meaning the rapids are gone). The train bridge below the island has giant strainers (piles of trees) against the upstream side of it, which would create a deadly situation. These photos do help me understand the behavior of the river at flood. Take all the water that you see in the above picture spilling into the Manchester District (Southside), and push it back into the river and then dam it up with a giant wall. That is what the flood would be like today, which if you think about it, is bothersome to anyone who would happen to be on the island at the time of a major flood.
My interest in the history of The James, The Canal, our city, and The Civil War comes from a childhood filled with history lessons from my father. It is one of the things that he passed down to me, and hopefully will be something I am able to pass down to my sons one day. Until I am allowed that chance again, I hope that you enjoy reading about our great city and river, because both are truly unique attributes we should never take for granted. .
Friday, May 17, 2013
"The Dumb Ass on the Log"
"Sticking feathers up your butt does not make you a chicken!"
~Tyler Durden~
Consider this an editorial......and before I begin I will go ahead and call myself out to get a jump on the haters. I paddle alone.....at night.......on the hardest rapids on the James. I boated alone at the height of the flood last week. All of these things are really stupid and can kill you......but I am crazy, so I have a justifiable excuse. Now, on to today's topic.
I will begin by saying that this is a very opinionated post......but it is my blog and love me or hate me, you will all read it, and this opinion is right. Remember in the first post when I said I was going to be blunt. Well, get ready. Let's begin with the following picture.
These are some very tame images compared to the lifestyle.. We are whitewater boaters, so common sense isn't always first priority. After my divorce, this was me. I don't drink, but if you read this blog then you know I have a habit, and it isn't a good one, so I am guilty of kayaking, well,.......not sober. In fact, I doubt I was sober in this pic...........which was pretty stupid....actually really Fucking stupid! (I thought this was an appropriate time for an F Bomb)
~Tyler Durden~
Consider this an editorial......and before I begin I will go ahead and call myself out to get a jump on the haters. I paddle alone.....at night.......on the hardest rapids on the James. I boated alone at the height of the flood last week. All of these things are really stupid and can kill you......but I am crazy, so I have a justifiable excuse. Now, on to today's topic.
I will begin by saying that this is a very opinionated post......but it is my blog and love me or hate me, you will all read it, and this opinion is right. Remember in the first post when I said I was going to be blunt. Well, get ready. Let's begin with the following picture.
Many of you saw this picture on the evening news last week, and many of you have heard the overly opinionated and bull shit comments of Curt Autry.....not only comments referring to kayakers as "idiots", but also many other stories during his tenure........(like how much weight men put on during pregnancy. Seriously dude, it is about the mothers and babies and their health. Not the men's weight issues.) So obviously I think Curt Autry is kind of a dick. Given that, lets move on to the subject in this picture.
If Curt Autry is an asshole and you allow yourself to be captured in this image while kayaking, then you are giving him all the reason to call us idiots, because based on the evidence above, we look like idiots......sitting on a log in a flood swollen river waiting for help. (By the way, this is not me. I used commen sense last week) My question is this.......if you make an asshole like Curt Autry look justified in his comments, then what does that make you? I mean after all, there is no arguing this picture, and all the Facebook comments by all my fellow James River paddlers made us look even worse. WE CAN'T JUSTIFY THIS!!!! We look really reckless and irresponsible in doing so. The thing that pisses me off the most is you gave that man fuel to fire away......and he even recommended closing the river over twelve feet, which impacts my life. If I can't paddle home because a cop says so, then I am really pissed. (and those involved know what happens when I get pissed.......I get even by using our wonderful system....you know, the system that doesn't work)
However, the story did not end there. The subject in this picture then went on his Facebook wall (yes, this is a dude, not a female like some thought), and bragged about the incident, posting the picture and making fun of the news, people witnessing the scene, and other boaters (that would be me...it was weak....really weak....unlike this post). So at this point you have now swum, gotten stuck on a log, ended up looking like a dumb ass on the evening news, making an asshole look right, and then bragged about it.
But still, the story doesn't end there. You see, these used to be my paddling partners, and I am well aware of what goes on within this group of paddlers, but don't take my word for it. Let the pictures speak for themselves.
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| Lovin' the bag of wine on a Class V creek. He is so proud. |
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| Results of the Bag-O-Wine |
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| Enjoy some beers on City Property! Great idea. |
These are some very tame images compared to the lifestyle.. We are whitewater boaters, so common sense isn't always first priority. After my divorce, this was me. I don't drink, but if you read this blog then you know I have a habit, and it isn't a good one, so I am guilty of kayaking, well,.......not sober. In fact, I doubt I was sober in this pic...........which was pretty stupid....actually really Fucking stupid! (I thought this was an appropriate time for an F Bomb)
The reason I chose this image is that I was with the dumb ass on the log on this particular day. At the time, I just didn't care about my own well being. I had lost my family and was out of my mind. (Funny thing is, if you ask this group of kayakers about me, they would state that I am out of my mind now for the things I am writing, not back then for the things I was doing.) So I am well aware of what "state of mind" these boys were in during the incident when the dumb ass ended up on the log.
Now, there are many stories floating around that some boaters hid in the woods, and that there was or wasn't certain people there....really doesn't matter. (Although one of the individuals who was present did admit to me that he was embarrassed by what happened, which is more than anyone else can say......by the way, to that individual....if you are going to make those your last words to me, be more profound bro....that shit was weak. And I didn't even realize you swam too. That made the story even better.)
I wish I could say that was the end of the story, but yet again, it was not. The evening of this incident I was sitting at camp, enjoying the island and my life, when what do I see float by.......you guessed it; the dumb ass on the logs boat! I love karma. I wasn't aware of the situation at the time, and watched it float by wondering what it was. Funny thing is, a few days later the following pic falls right into my lap.
Again, isn't karma sweet! Now, I am not going to say I am proud of the post I put on Facebook, or the fact that I had the idea to use the boat as a starter log in my bonfire, but you have to admit, things just kind of worked out that way. (I swear, I don't go looking for this shit. It just falls in my lap......Island Magic) In the end the dumb ass on the log got his boat back before I ever even saw it (he brought the cops with him....really uncalled for bro.....you swam. remember? You are lucky you got it back at all.)
My point is this........don't take pride in being a dumb ass! And don't take pride in something that makes an entire community look bad...really bad. And don't take pride in something that gives an asshole reporter justification to be an asshole. And don't ever threaten my way of life like that again....because the next time you do, this will seem like a pin prick compared to what I have in my photo archive. (by the way...that isn't a threat. It's a promise.)
So in conclusion, if you are going to paddle the James at flood stage, you better make sure with 100 percent certainty you can handle it, because when you fuck up, you are not just representing yourself, you are representing us all. Go do something positive with your paddling life.......like living on an island to create a sustainable and healthy life. (that is my idea. Just an example. Get your own.) And to the dumb ass on the log, my advice is simple........
My editorial is finished. See ya on the rivah! (hopefully not on a log.)
Week 3 "Rocks and shinbones don't go together!" and "Bald Eagle Magic"
"People do it everyday. They talk to themselves. They see themselves as they would like to be. They don't have the courage that you have. To just run with it."
~Tyler Durden~
I will admit it. I talk to myself on the island.....a lot.
After two weeks on the island and lots of kayaking, hiking, sawing, hauling wood, carrying rocks, dragging gear, raking, more kayaking, clearing trails, and machete cutting thickets of the deadliest briar patches you have ever encountered (seriously, if you fell in them you would bleed to death before escaping), my body was torn up......but I had gotten a lot tougher and the island was starting to become comfortable.....plus I was cut like a rock now from all the work. Week 3 turned out to be a week of lots of rest......but it wasn't planned. The water was still flowing strong, and I was still kayaking my front yard as much as possible.
April 18th ~ Journal Entry ~ Day 17
"Men should either be treated generously or destroyed, because they take revenge for slight injuries-for heavy ones they cannot."
~Machiavelli~
Wow! Quite an ironic quote for my life.
"I slid my boat into the river, and ferried over to run "boof laps" off Conception. After some surfing in the approach rapid, I headed downstream above the ledge to stomp out the #1 boof on the river. I spent some time doing laps, and on my third or fourth lap, I pulled into the portage spot. I got out and picked my boat up to carry up the ledge, but when I did my foot slipped on wet algae. I didn't fall, but my foot slipped forward hard and my shin smashed into a pointed rock ledge. I could tell by the sound of my shinbone thumping into the ledge that it was bad, and when I looked down at my left shin, there was a quarter size hole in my leg. I had gashed it open to the bone. "FUCK!"....This isn't what I actually yelled, but it was what I felt inside...we have all been there, I am sure. I could see the lumpy, yellow tissue around the edges of the gash, and the bone was visible in the middle of the hole. Thick, clumpy blood started gurgling out, and when I put river water on it, the blood liquefied, dripping down my leg. My initial thought was that I just cracked my shinbone, but when I put weight on it, it seemed ok. Now my main focus became getting back to camp to clean out the wound. I started hiking up the island next to Conception, but when I did I became dizzy and nauseous from the throbbing pain that set in quickly. I put my boat down and laid down on the rock, knowing it would pass.......then I puked and felt better. (I know. I'm a wus.) After puking, I got up to continue hiking up. I figured if I laid there I would pass out, then someone in the skyscrapers would see me and call river rescue. I wasn't sure how to explain to river rescue why I was sleeping on a rock in the middle of the James with a hole in my leg. When I reached the top of Conception Island I had a decision to make, and my leg was now throbbing. I could paddle across the pool to the Western Tip, avoiding all the rapids but needing to hike the entire island to get to first aid; or I could run the lower half of Deception, risking banging my leg on a bad landing, but allowing me to pull right into camp and first aid........I chose Option B. I got in my boat delicately, turned downstream, and hit my line without injury. (This is a two step Class IV drop with a tough line at the bottom) I ferried across the channel and pulled into the beach below camp. When I got out of my boat, the hull had blood and water mixed together sloshing around in the bottom. I limped up the beach, stripped off all my gear, grabbed the first aid kit, and sat down to start to work.
I looked in the kit, which had been donated to me by a friend, and realized immediately that some improvisation was going to be needed. The kit, which granted, I hadn't previously checked, was about 10 years out of date and missing half its contents. (I have been updated with a quality first aid kit since this accident) The key items I wanted were a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, antiseptic wipes, cue tips, Neosporin and Liquid Skin or Bactin, a butterfly bandage, gauze pads, and an ace bandage for compression since I had already used the ice pack the week before. (I was hot) What I actually had was the ace bandage, gauze pads, antiseptic wipes, liquid skin, and Neosporin. I improvised by using a gauze pad wrapped up to a pointed corner for a cue tip. The lack of Hydrogen Peroxide bothered me, because the wound was deep and had been exposed to river water. Once the wound clotted the peroxide was worthless, and the grit would be trapped under the clot.
Since I knew cleaning the wound ASAP was important to prevent infection or blood poisoning, (I had that once. It sucked) I bit down on a stick and scrubbed the hole out with a bar of soap........this hurt like shit and made it bleed profusely. Once I had finished I cleaned around the wound with antiseptic wipes, and then using the improvised cue tip, mixed liquid skin and Neosporin together and started plopping it into the hole. I knew that without a butterfly bandage, I would need to create a cleanly sealed clot, and the lumpy goo I had formed would help expediate clotting. After a few minutes of working in the Neosporin, the clot formed, and I worked my way around the hole, satisfied to let it heal open. My friend who is a bike messenger stated, "Only bitches get stitches". (those guys are tough bastards) I limped down to the hammock once finished. My leg was now throbbing from the soap scrubbing I had just exposed it to. I collapsed in the hammock and put my leg up as high as I could get it. The throbbing was rhythmically following my heartbeat, and the sound of whitewater quickly lulled my exhausted body to sleep."
I spent the following days using the island as a "vacation spot", simply lying around in the hammock, reading, writing, in my journal, celebrating April 20th :) , and keeping as much weight off my leg as possible. After three days, the swelling was pretty intense and the pain had gotten worse, so I decided to abandon the island for the night and stay with a friend, before seeing a doctor. The doctor took an x-ray and confirmed a crack in my tibia. I was supposed to wear an air cast, but the doc, who knew me well, was aware that I would never follow directions, so he gave me a compression bandage to help keep swelling down when I was walking on it. I did try and follow the principle of R.I.C.E. (Rest, Ice, Compression, and Elevation), but usually only hit two out of four. The doc did say that the cleaning I endured probably did help expediate the healing process, and blood infection was a legit concern, especially in river water. I was satisfied with the conclusion of the ordeal, and now I have a nice little scar to remind me of the island.
The remainder of Week 3 was spent simply viewing the world that I had created around me, and I started to see some really cool stuff when I slowed down and just became part of the environment. I saw a baby gosling hatch from its egg; kayaked at night under a full moon and under the light pollution of the city; and became an amateur ornithologist on the Friday evening that thunderstorms hit RVa. This next journal entry was written as the front approached the city.
~April 20th~Journal Entry~Day 19
(All pictures taken by me last summer on the James)
"We do not understand when the buffalo are all slaughtered, the wild horses are tamed, the secret corners of the forest heavy with scent of many men, and the view of the ripe hills blotted by talking wires. Where is the thicket? Gone. Where is the eagle? Gone. The end of living and the beginning of survival."
~Anonymous Native American quote~
"While sitting at the garden, the full magic of the island revealed itself. Without warning, two large birds buzzed overhead, just above the tree line. I immediately knew by their speed and size that they were Bald Eagles. They circled around the Eastern End of the island and raced back up river towards the Middle Lines. I gimped my way back up the trail as quickly as possible to Northern Camp. When I reached the lookout point, I was in awe. There in front of me, The Middle Lines thundered down, the cityscape guarded the river, and the dark clouds from the approaching front mixed into swirls of blue, grey, green, yellow, and pink. This was my back drop as I watched the two eagles frolick and play in the wind currents, swooping and diving amongst each other over the river like two dog fighting F-sixteens (broken key). I worked my way down slowly to War Cry Rock and stood up, marveling at the sight of the Eagles. (I had seen Bald Eagles hundreds of times before on the river, but never playing like this.)
Their agility and speed was amazing, made ever more remarkable by the howling and unpredictable winds. (or so I thought. Last nights winds were much worse...Holy Shit, that was a crazy storm!) The Eagles had an amazing ability to cut hard corners at high rates of speed. As they chased each other, the Eagle out front would dive at a phenomanel rate of speed, then cut right and back left, sharply and cleanly, catching the wind currents as it dove. The pursuing Eagle would mirror every move, as if performing a synchronized air ballet against the currents of the storm front. For nearly 10 minutes this performance went on, and as I watched I wished so much for Marlow and Quint to be there by my side to share the moment. I took in every second, so I could one day tell them about the amazing sight. Then, without warning, a flash of lightning broke the scene, followed by a crack of thunder. As quickly as the performance had begun, it ended even more abruptly. I looked up to find the Eagles again, but they were gone, like ghosts of the Middle Lines."
I have begun to refer to these experiences as Island Magic. The island has a way of revealing its true mystical and surreal powers at the times I least expect them. This was one of those times. I consider myself very lucky to be able to see the things I have seen in the past forty seven days, and I long for the chance to sit down and tell my boys all about them.
If you have the weekend free, GO TO RIVERROCK!!! GO TO RIVERROCK!!! It is the coolest festival of the year. I hope to see everyone out there, and look for an additional blog post coming up titled, "The Dumb Ass Sittin' on the Log"..... It's a good one. See ya on the rivah!
P.S. Miss you M & Q. Miss you guys more than you will ever know.
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
"The Tao of Pooh"
"The things you own end up owning you."
~Tyler Durden~
April 12th ~ Journal Entry ~ Day 11
"I am reading 'The Tao of Pooh' right now, and Taoism makes sense to me. In fact, I think it applies to what I am doing here on the island. Pooh is simpleminded and he represents the idea of Taoism perfectly. He doesn't fret, like Eeyore, hesitate, like Piglet, calculate, like rabbit, or ponificate like owl......Pooh just is. When I am on the island, I just am. I eat, drink water, take walks, kayak, read, write, cut trails, collect driftwood, and admire the natural world around me....I just exist here, with no judgments.
The story of "The Vinegar Tasters" explains how I see the world perfectly. Pooh is looking at an ancient Chinese scroll with a painting of three men standing around a vat of vinegar. Each man has dipped his finger into the Vinegar and taken a taste. Each man holds a different reaction on his face. The three men represent the "three teachings" of China, and the vinegar they are tasting represents the essence of life. The three men are Confucius, Buddha, and Lao-tse, author of the oldest existing book on Taoism. Confucius has a sour taste on his face, Buddha has a bitter look, but Lao-tse is smiling.
"To Confucius, life seemed rather sour. He believed that the present was out of step with the past, and that the government of man on earth was out of harmony with the way of Heaven, the Government of the universe." ** Confucius was a traditionalist, and believed that everything in the world added up to a system of rituals.
"To Buddha, the second figure, life on earth was bitter, filled with attachments and desires that led to suffering. The world was seen as a setter of traps, a generator of illusions, a revolving wheel of pain for all creatures." ** "In order to find peace, the Buddha must reach Nirvana, literally 'a state of no wind.' The devout buddhist often saw the way to Nirvana interrupted all the same by the bitter wind of everyday existence." **
"To Lao-tse, the harmony that naturally existed between heaven and earth from the very beginning could be found by anyone at anytime......earth was in essence a reflection of heaven, run by the same laws------not the laws of man.......the more man interfered with the natural balance produced and governed by the Universal Laws, the further away the harmony retreated into the distance. The more forcing, the more trouble. Whether heavy or light, wet or dry, fast or slow, everything had its own nature already within it, which could not be violated without causing difficulties. When abstract and arbitrary rules were imposed from the outside, struggle was inevitable. Only then did life become sour." **
"To Lao-tse, the world was not a setter of traps, but a teacher of valuable lessons.....the basic Taoism we are concerned with here is simply a particular way of appreciating, learning from, and and working with whatever happens in everyday life. From the Taoists point of view, the natural result of this harmonious way of living is happiness." **
"In the painting, why is Lao-tse smiling? After all, the vinegar that represents life must certainly have an unpleasant taste, as the expressions on the faces of the other two men indicate. But, through working in harmony with life's circumstances, Taoists understanding changes what others may perceive as negative into something positive. From the Taoist point of view, sourness and bitterness come from the interfering and unappreciative mind. Life itself, when understood and utilized for what it is, is sweet. That is the message of 'The Vinegar Tasters'." **
** - all quotes taken directly from 'The Tao of Pooh-
So why do I relate so well to an ancient Chinese scroll being analyzed by Winnie the Pooh and author Benjamin Hoff?.....simple. When I am on the island, I follow the practices and beliefs of Lao-tse. When I leave the island I struggle in the 'Real World' with the viewpoints of Confucius and Buddha. I do view modern society as being out of touch with our past, and I have many attachments and desires that lead to an immense amount of suffering, for me, and for the people who love me, or did love me at one point. Buddha saw the world as a setter of traps, and I feel cornered by many things that have happened in my life....trapped, with no way out. Like Confucius, I view modern society as too complex, and the systems that are in place to 'control' it have become too complex, failing those who are simpleminded, like me. I feel that modern society forces us all to suffer, in order to gain some measure of success in our lives.
A good example is the RVa skyline that looms over the James. The skyscrapers were built by men, men with massive egos who believed that they needed to build modern day temples to prove their power, and then put their names on top, for all the world to see. (hopefully none of those dudes are reading this.....if so, I would be amazed) The workers they hire inside are trapped by monetary gains, held in check by a consumer driven world. To make matters worse for the worker bees, the temples are designed with picture windows so they can look out over the world they instinctively want to be a part of. (which is really fucked up if you think about it, but better than a concrete wall I guess) They look out on what is now my world.
I do not know of a single one of my friends who work in these environments and come home in the evenings saying they were happy to have spent their day in a box, staring at a computer....or out a window.....but like Buddha, they are in a world that is a setter of traps. Without going to these daily "cells", they wouldn't be able to afford to come back to their homes, that are most likely more than they need, in overly luxurious cars that drain overpriced gas and pollute the planet. They are slaves of consumerism, trapped out of fear of losing the things around them that in reality, they don't even need. The only way out of the trap is to lose it all, as I did. Having everything in my life taken from me was the only thing that ever set me free. (children obviously excluded from that)
Without a house, need for my car, or a bunch of crap, I have been able to escape the trap, even if only for a while. I have spent six bucks in two weeks to live here. I get my food from a food bank or generous people (who assume I am starving.....only sometimes) water from anywhere, and the other day I worked half a day for twenty bucks and a tank of gas, which I really have no need for. If it was not for the massive debt I collected off the island over the last few years, I literally could live for almost free. I am happy and comfortable here, and to me it is the second best way of living aside from being with Marlow and Quint. I know that I am healing out here, and I hope to one day show my sons the world I now call home."
I know what you are thinking....."what an asshole. How dare he criticize my life." I promise you, that is not the point here. I understand why people live the way they do.....to take care of their families, to take care of their kids, and to be comfortable. I sat in an empty house all winter long, and didn't understand the point in it if it wasn't going to be filled with the laughter of children, and the love of family. Dave Chappelle said it best;
"If it were not for women, a man wouldn't buy a house. He would be happy living in a cardboard box!"
He is not far off, but trust me, I do not intend to end up in a cardboard box. I just feel it is my time to do something different.......and apparently piss off a lot of people in the process. But more importantly, I hope to motivate people to view the world we live in while stepping outside the box; to view things in a different way. I just hope that the next time you take a break and look out that big picture window, you think to yourself, "man, I could do that."....this way, if shit ever hits the fan, and trust me, it could, you will have enough belief in yourself to do something unique, to do something epic; and in the process, maybe, just maybe, discover a part of you that you never knew existed. I am, and it may make all the difference in the end.
See ya on the river. PEACE!
~Tyler Durden~
April 12th ~ Journal Entry ~ Day 11
"I am reading 'The Tao of Pooh' right now, and Taoism makes sense to me. In fact, I think it applies to what I am doing here on the island. Pooh is simpleminded and he represents the idea of Taoism perfectly. He doesn't fret, like Eeyore, hesitate, like Piglet, calculate, like rabbit, or ponificate like owl......Pooh just is. When I am on the island, I just am. I eat, drink water, take walks, kayak, read, write, cut trails, collect driftwood, and admire the natural world around me....I just exist here, with no judgments.
The story of "The Vinegar Tasters" explains how I see the world perfectly. Pooh is looking at an ancient Chinese scroll with a painting of three men standing around a vat of vinegar. Each man has dipped his finger into the Vinegar and taken a taste. Each man holds a different reaction on his face. The three men represent the "three teachings" of China, and the vinegar they are tasting represents the essence of life. The three men are Confucius, Buddha, and Lao-tse, author of the oldest existing book on Taoism. Confucius has a sour taste on his face, Buddha has a bitter look, but Lao-tse is smiling.
"To Confucius, life seemed rather sour. He believed that the present was out of step with the past, and that the government of man on earth was out of harmony with the way of Heaven, the Government of the universe." ** Confucius was a traditionalist, and believed that everything in the world added up to a system of rituals.
"To Buddha, the second figure, life on earth was bitter, filled with attachments and desires that led to suffering. The world was seen as a setter of traps, a generator of illusions, a revolving wheel of pain for all creatures." ** "In order to find peace, the Buddha must reach Nirvana, literally 'a state of no wind.' The devout buddhist often saw the way to Nirvana interrupted all the same by the bitter wind of everyday existence." **
"To Lao-tse, the harmony that naturally existed between heaven and earth from the very beginning could be found by anyone at anytime......earth was in essence a reflection of heaven, run by the same laws------not the laws of man.......the more man interfered with the natural balance produced and governed by the Universal Laws, the further away the harmony retreated into the distance. The more forcing, the more trouble. Whether heavy or light, wet or dry, fast or slow, everything had its own nature already within it, which could not be violated without causing difficulties. When abstract and arbitrary rules were imposed from the outside, struggle was inevitable. Only then did life become sour." **
"To Lao-tse, the world was not a setter of traps, but a teacher of valuable lessons.....the basic Taoism we are concerned with here is simply a particular way of appreciating, learning from, and and working with whatever happens in everyday life. From the Taoists point of view, the natural result of this harmonious way of living is happiness." **
"In the painting, why is Lao-tse smiling? After all, the vinegar that represents life must certainly have an unpleasant taste, as the expressions on the faces of the other two men indicate. But, through working in harmony with life's circumstances, Taoists understanding changes what others may perceive as negative into something positive. From the Taoist point of view, sourness and bitterness come from the interfering and unappreciative mind. Life itself, when understood and utilized for what it is, is sweet. That is the message of 'The Vinegar Tasters'." **
** - all quotes taken directly from 'The Tao of Pooh-
So why do I relate so well to an ancient Chinese scroll being analyzed by Winnie the Pooh and author Benjamin Hoff?.....simple. When I am on the island, I follow the practices and beliefs of Lao-tse. When I leave the island I struggle in the 'Real World' with the viewpoints of Confucius and Buddha. I do view modern society as being out of touch with our past, and I have many attachments and desires that lead to an immense amount of suffering, for me, and for the people who love me, or did love me at one point. Buddha saw the world as a setter of traps, and I feel cornered by many things that have happened in my life....trapped, with no way out. Like Confucius, I view modern society as too complex, and the systems that are in place to 'control' it have become too complex, failing those who are simpleminded, like me. I feel that modern society forces us all to suffer, in order to gain some measure of success in our lives.
A good example is the RVa skyline that looms over the James. The skyscrapers were built by men, men with massive egos who believed that they needed to build modern day temples to prove their power, and then put their names on top, for all the world to see. (hopefully none of those dudes are reading this.....if so, I would be amazed) The workers they hire inside are trapped by monetary gains, held in check by a consumer driven world. To make matters worse for the worker bees, the temples are designed with picture windows so they can look out over the world they instinctively want to be a part of. (which is really fucked up if you think about it, but better than a concrete wall I guess) They look out on what is now my world.
I do not know of a single one of my friends who work in these environments and come home in the evenings saying they were happy to have spent their day in a box, staring at a computer....or out a window.....but like Buddha, they are in a world that is a setter of traps. Without going to these daily "cells", they wouldn't be able to afford to come back to their homes, that are most likely more than they need, in overly luxurious cars that drain overpriced gas and pollute the planet. They are slaves of consumerism, trapped out of fear of losing the things around them that in reality, they don't even need. The only way out of the trap is to lose it all, as I did. Having everything in my life taken from me was the only thing that ever set me free. (children obviously excluded from that)
Without a house, need for my car, or a bunch of crap, I have been able to escape the trap, even if only for a while. I have spent six bucks in two weeks to live here. I get my food from a food bank or generous people (who assume I am starving.....only sometimes) water from anywhere, and the other day I worked half a day for twenty bucks and a tank of gas, which I really have no need for. If it was not for the massive debt I collected off the island over the last few years, I literally could live for almost free. I am happy and comfortable here, and to me it is the second best way of living aside from being with Marlow and Quint. I know that I am healing out here, and I hope to one day show my sons the world I now call home."
I know what you are thinking....."what an asshole. How dare he criticize my life." I promise you, that is not the point here. I understand why people live the way they do.....to take care of their families, to take care of their kids, and to be comfortable. I sat in an empty house all winter long, and didn't understand the point in it if it wasn't going to be filled with the laughter of children, and the love of family. Dave Chappelle said it best;
"If it were not for women, a man wouldn't buy a house. He would be happy living in a cardboard box!"
He is not far off, but trust me, I do not intend to end up in a cardboard box. I just feel it is my time to do something different.......and apparently piss off a lot of people in the process. But more importantly, I hope to motivate people to view the world we live in while stepping outside the box; to view things in a different way. I just hope that the next time you take a break and look out that big picture window, you think to yourself, "man, I could do that."....this way, if shit ever hits the fan, and trust me, it could, you will have enough belief in yourself to do something unique, to do something epic; and in the process, maybe, just maybe, discover a part of you that you never knew existed. I am, and it may make all the difference in the end.
See ya on the river. PEACE!
"How to Boof"
April 13th ~ Journal Entry ~ Day 12
"Boof late"........Tommy Hilleke
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| Boofing in Nelson County, the greatest whitewater in the world! |
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| 'Boofing on the Narrows' |
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| Boofing at Great Falls, a place where a boof isn't just fun, it's mandatory for survival. Remember, stay forward! |
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| Boofng in my front yard on the James |
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| Me, boofing Valley Falls in West 'By God' Virginia. (I love this pic.....but not the photographer. Never loved her.) |
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| Kyle Irby stomping out a boof on Pummel at Great Falls. |
And that is how to boof!.....at least in my mind. I would love to hear some feedback from boaters on this one, and please feel free to add anything I have forgotten in the comments box.......I am sure there will be tons! The paddling community loves me. :) PEACE!
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Week 2 "All about the Whitewater"
"Great spirits are often encountered by violent opposition from mediocre minds"
~Albert Einstein~
Ain't that the truth!
After one week on the island I was starting to feel comfortable and stronger by the day. I had lost a lot of weight, but it worked to my advantage in some ways. Whenever I came off the island and saw people I knew, they seemed concerned about my weight loss, so they always gave me food. I figured because I was homeless I should just go with it, and before long my car was stocked with a weeks worth of food, spices, and all sorts of good stuff to eat. With my strength returning and my camp completed, I was feeling good. On top of that, it had rained, and my front yard was running, so it was time to focus on what I had come here to do.......kayak my ass off! So that is exactly what I did.
(all photos taken by me!)
April 7th - Journal Entry - Day 6
"When I awoke (from a nap) it was mid afternoon and the Middle Lines were in.......it was time to do what I came here for...kayaking! I geared up, hiked to the top of the island, and slid my boat into the river. I wanted to boof (I will explain what that means in a later post), and the level was around 6 feet (visual estimate), making Conception prime for boofing. I paddled across the pool and then surfed the hole for a while just above the main drop of Conception. Conception consists of one five foot ledge that has a perfect left side launch pad, allowing you to drive hard from right to left, planting a hard right handed boof stroke, before airing it out and landing with a right edge. My first run felt good and I nailed my boof, but wanted to stomp it. The walk back up to run the boof again is simple and takes 30 seconds. I did "boof laps", analyzing the move each time, trying to find the best launching point.
After half an hour of boofs, I decided to look at some of the lines closer to camp. I paddled over to Deception, knowing it was at the lower end of runnable. I love Deception when it is low. The line is still there, but it is thin and you must be precise. The lower water levels also allow boaters to walk back up the rocks next to LuLu, as opposed to the rocks and logs you have to climb over on river left of Deception when the water is high. I explored the giant car sized boulders that high water had pushed into the rapids, and shuttered at the terrifying wood stuffed sieve that had lots of water pouring through it. This section of the James is very remeniscent of the boulder choked creeks of West Virginia. Whenever I explore the Middle Lines of the James, I think about the Upper Blackwater and how it has this same style of rapid for seven straight miles."
~Albert Einstein~
Ain't that the truth!
After one week on the island I was starting to feel comfortable and stronger by the day. I had lost a lot of weight, but it worked to my advantage in some ways. Whenever I came off the island and saw people I knew, they seemed concerned about my weight loss, so they always gave me food. I figured because I was homeless I should just go with it, and before long my car was stocked with a weeks worth of food, spices, and all sorts of good stuff to eat. With my strength returning and my camp completed, I was feeling good. On top of that, it had rained, and my front yard was running, so it was time to focus on what I had come here to do.......kayak my ass off! So that is exactly what I did.
(all photos taken by me!)
April 7th - Journal Entry - Day 6
"When I awoke (from a nap) it was mid afternoon and the Middle Lines were in.......it was time to do what I came here for...kayaking! I geared up, hiked to the top of the island, and slid my boat into the river. I wanted to boof (I will explain what that means in a later post), and the level was around 6 feet (visual estimate), making Conception prime for boofing. I paddled across the pool and then surfed the hole for a while just above the main drop of Conception. Conception consists of one five foot ledge that has a perfect left side launch pad, allowing you to drive hard from right to left, planting a hard right handed boof stroke, before airing it out and landing with a right edge. My first run felt good and I nailed my boof, but wanted to stomp it. The walk back up to run the boof again is simple and takes 30 seconds. I did "boof laps", analyzing the move each time, trying to find the best launching point.
 |
| A perfect boof at Conception |
After half an hour of boofs, I decided to look at some of the lines closer to camp. I paddled over to Deception, knowing it was at the lower end of runnable. I love Deception when it is low. The line is still there, but it is thin and you must be precise. The lower water levels also allow boaters to walk back up the rocks next to LuLu, as opposed to the rocks and logs you have to climb over on river left of Deception when the water is high. I explored the giant car sized boulders that high water had pushed into the rapids, and shuttered at the terrifying wood stuffed sieve that had lots of water pouring through it. This section of the James is very remeniscent of the boulder choked creeks of West Virginia. Whenever I explore the Middle Lines of the James, I think about the Upper Blackwater and how it has this same style of rapid for seven straight miles."
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| Boofing Deception at a good flow |
The next exert from my journal is pretty funny, but I will warn you, it involves poop and doing something I normally don't do on the river, but sometimes, well, shit happens....literally.
"After about three runs of Deception and some exploring of the boulders, I started looking at the low water line of LuLu, called Slick as a Whistle. While doing so the beans and ravioli from the previous nights dinner hit me in the form of a four pound brick in my bowels. There was no time to paddle back to camp, so I decided that pooping in the sieve was appropriate. I tore off my dry top and pulled down my union suit. I then squatted down, held onto a log, and dropped four pounds of pure evilness into that nasty little bitch of a sieve. Then I proceeded to use the flowing water from the sieve to wash my backside European style (you know, like those funny little toilets that squirt water up in the air) which also solved the need for toilet paper. I pulled my union suit up to my waist, and sat down shirtless in the afternoon sun. I was proud of my accomplishment, despite the fact I had just pooped in the river. I thought about naming the sieve after the experience, but got distracted when I realized that the hardest line on the James was in fact called 'The Poop Shoot'. It is now my goal to go and poop in 'The Poop Shoot'. (which I accomplished on day 23. WINNING!)
I decided against running 'Slick as a Whistle' because I was alone and the line had the need for safety. I paddled up river and around the island of boulders between LuLu and Triple Drop, and turned down Triple Drop to head home. I love the fact that my road home for the next six months consists of whitewater instead of asphalt. I knew the boof at Triple was too low, but ran it anyway and landed hard on the rock below. I then paddled up to the takeout beach, walked up the trail to camp, and leaned my boat against the tree holding my dry line. I took off my gear, hung it out to dry, and hung my union suit up. Then I walked to my lookout at camp and sat down in my camp chair, naked as a jay bird. There I sat, in all my glory in the afternoon sun, looking out over the James and the skyline of RVa........I was home."
"The song of a river ends not at her banks but in the hearts of those who have loved her"
~Buffalo Joe~
Always has been and always will be one of my favorite quotes.
Living within the whitewater of the James truly is a unique experience. As I stated in my first blog, there is only one other place I would rather be, and I can't be there, so I am glad I am here. Since moving to the island, my ex-wife has cut all communication between me and my children. I do not know why. I assume she does not approve of what I am doing, but this experience is something similar to the dreams we used to share together, so I can only hope that deep down she respects me for the decision. I hope she is just as confused as I am, because I don't want to think that she is making this decision with a clear mind. So Marcelle, if you are reading this then I want you to know that I think about the boys all the time, and long for the day you will one day let me be a part of their lives again. I can never afford the lifestyle you expect me to provide you with, and I do not hate you for your decisions, I simply cannot understand why you have decided to do what you have done. I made many poor decision in the past, but this choice is not one of them. I hope one day you can see that.
Living within the whitewater of the James truly is a unique experience. As I stated in my first blog, there is only one other place I would rather be, and I can't be there, so I am glad I am here. Since moving to the island, my ex-wife has cut all communication between me and my children. I do not know why. I assume she does not approve of what I am doing, but this experience is something similar to the dreams we used to share together, so I can only hope that deep down she respects me for the decision. I hope she is just as confused as I am, because I don't want to think that she is making this decision with a clear mind. So Marcelle, if you are reading this then I want you to know that I think about the boys all the time, and long for the day you will one day let me be a part of their lives again. I can never afford the lifestyle you expect me to provide you with, and I do not hate you for your decisions, I simply cannot understand why you have decided to do what you have done. I made many poor decision in the past, but this choice is not one of them. I hope one day you can see that.
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| My boys and I. I miss them every moment of every day. |
Kayaking is about so much more than the adrenaline rush of the rapids. It is about the river, nature, the undiscovered places of our environment, and the ability to escape the world we are consumed by, if only for a few moments. Go to the river and sit at the banks, and listen to the sounds of the rapids. They will tell you more than you know, and they may even help you find a piece of yourself that at one time you had lost. I lost it all, and the more I listen to the river, the more I learn about myself. That is why I am here. Kayaking is a means to my life now. I no longer paddle simply for recreation, I paddle for survival. I paddle to make it home, and I paddle because it is all that I know. I leave you with a piece of writing that encompasses the experience of being on the island, and the reason this river will allows flow through my soul.
April 12th - Journal Entry - Day 11
"I am sitting on the top, or Western Tip of the island. Ahead of me the sun is setting behind the Manchester and Belvidere bridges. The light is bouncing off the spray from 2nd Break rapid, and the fading clouds from the mornings front are dark pink and blue with silver linings as the race across the sky. To the North, the massive skyline of the city looks out over the the river as a soft evening glow reflects off the the skyscrapers. To the south, the James River Flood Wall snakes it's way up the bank, cutting off the river to the outside world. The rapids wrap around the top of the island on both sides of me, and in the distance, one lone kayaker paddles toward Pipeline. I can see the cars crossing the bridges, and see people taking walks on Brown's Island to the Northwest, but the sounds of the rapids drown out every bit of noise from the city. Although I sit in the middle of a major city, I am alone, isolated from every bit of modern society, with nothing more than a pen, journal, and kayak to guide me towards my future."
Stay safe this week, and do something epic............go forth and be a force of the awesome. See ya on the rivah!
 |
| I truly love this river! |
Thursday, May 9, 2013
The Minus Days and Week 1
The first few weeks of May I will be posting the weeks of April to play catch up. I have been on the island for 33 days now, so there will be two posts a week, each containing a week to encompass the first month on the island. I planned ahead of time to keep the first month to myself. There are very few pictures, and only video from the first day of exploration. I spent the first month isolated a lot.....just how I wanted it. There were many rumors about me swinging through the trees wielding a machete (nope), talking crazy (possibly), and just plain losing it (most likely). But in reality, there was a lot of work. I dropped 12 pounds in the first few weeks, not from lack of eating, but from burning three to four times the amount of carbs, and from removing 2 percent milk from my diet. (I ate a lot of cereal) I have since gained it back, and am probably healthier right now than I have been in years. The story of how I got to Day 33 begins here, in a five bedroom, two bath house with a bullet hole in the front door and chicken coop in the back yard......just the everyday life at Brooklyn Park Blvd. and Fourth Ave.
"The Minus Days"
"Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters.”
~Norman Maclean A River Runs Through It
This quote has always stuck with me, and will always define my love for the rivers of this planet.
I started writing my journal on March Twenty Fourth, even though I did not leave my house until April 1st. The Minus Week was spent planning, prepping gear, packing my house, taking daily trips to the island, and cleaning up a lot of messes in life. It was good to take paddling trips to the island during this week. I mostly went in the evening during sunsets, and found myself wanting to stay whenever it was time to leave.
I determined that the biggest challenges I would face would be transporting gear to and from the island, communication, transporting weekly groceries and water, and tools for projects. Transporting gear could be solved by minimizing, and by using a raft. Communication could be solved by using email and Facebook, which would allow me to fully control who to communicate with, and who not to. Transporting my computer to and from the island is a pain, and battery power is limited, so I usually don't bother taking it out with me. If I do then the Venture Richmond signal from Brown's Island is clear....who would have thought. Transporting groceries and water is where I had to bite the bullet and just hike and paddle a lot of weight once a week. Doing this has gotten me in shape....quick. Tools were solved with the help of some very good friends, but I did a good job of minimizing those as well and making up for it in solo man power (hence the weight drop of 12 pounds).
I organized in advance by creating a listing of all gear going to the island, creating a plan and logistical map of how to get there, as well as all possible paddling routes to and from the island. I created a weekly grocery list and water ration, created a daily schedule while spending full days on the island, created a list of projects that would be necessary for comfort and survival (both at the campsite and around the island), planned a full mission statement, and developed a journal. This is the point when all overly trained, certified up the ass, know-it-all wilderness field instructor assholes say, "he is really under prepared. No way he can do this"..........seriously. Get over yourselves and wake up. People survived outdoors for thousands of years before the invention of "certifications", and experience will always trump sitting in a classroom. After 33 days on the island, this has been more than enough prep. So to all the VCU OAP kids who think they are the shit......go paddle to an island and live on it. Classroom certifications make you soft. You wouldn't make it a week out here......and on that note, if you are swimming Class III rapids on the Lower James then you shouldn't be teaching kayaking, so stop before you fucking kill someone!
After fully packing and storing all my supplies, NOT tying up fifty percent of my lose ends, and minimizing my life, I paddled my gear out to the island on April 1st, with a team of five people, one raft, and three kayaks. The middle of the island contains a giant, truck sized steel pipe that is half buried in the ground, but is opened at both ends. The pipe is probably two inches thick and provides enough shelter to survive an atomic bomb blast, so thunderstorm shelter was solved. (the pipe will be described in detail later) I stored and camouflaged all of my gear inside the pipe for the night and headed out to a friends house for one final night of showers, heat, cable, internet, and a nice warm and soft bed. Then, on April 2nd, I woke up and paddled out to my new home. Here is a great pic of the island in the morning. It is the land mass behind the train, stretching up towards the city and Manchester bridge. It looks like it connects to the Norfolk Southern Train Bridge, but it doesn't.
"Week 1"
I organized in advance by creating a listing of all gear going to the island, creating a plan and logistical map of how to get there, as well as all possible paddling routes to and from the island. I created a weekly grocery list and water ration, created a daily schedule while spending full days on the island, created a list of projects that would be necessary for comfort and survival (both at the campsite and around the island), planned a full mission statement, and developed a journal. This is the point when all overly trained, certified up the ass, know-it-all wilderness field instructor assholes say, "he is really under prepared. No way he can do this"..........seriously. Get over yourselves and wake up. People survived outdoors for thousands of years before the invention of "certifications", and experience will always trump sitting in a classroom. After 33 days on the island, this has been more than enough prep. So to all the VCU OAP kids who think they are the shit......go paddle to an island and live on it. Classroom certifications make you soft. You wouldn't make it a week out here......and on that note, if you are swimming Class III rapids on the Lower James then you shouldn't be teaching kayaking, so stop before you fucking kill someone!
After fully packing and storing all my supplies, NOT tying up fifty percent of my lose ends, and minimizing my life, I paddled my gear out to the island on April 1st, with a team of five people, one raft, and three kayaks. The middle of the island contains a giant, truck sized steel pipe that is half buried in the ground, but is opened at both ends. The pipe is probably two inches thick and provides enough shelter to survive an atomic bomb blast, so thunderstorm shelter was solved. (the pipe will be described in detail later) I stored and camouflaged all of my gear inside the pipe for the night and headed out to a friends house for one final night of showers, heat, cable, internet, and a nice warm and soft bed. Then, on April 2nd, I woke up and paddled out to my new home. Here is a great pic of the island in the morning. It is the land mass behind the train, stretching up towards the city and Manchester bridge. It looks like it connects to the Norfolk Southern Train Bridge, but it doesn't.
"Week 1"
“We must begin thinking like a river if we are to leave a legacy of beauty and life for future generations.”
~David Brower~
The first night on the island was magical.......and cold as shit! The first two nights saw temps in the 20's, and after 33 days out here, they are still the two coldest nights I have had. However, I was very comfortable. After spending many nights camping in the mountains of Western North Carolina, West 'By God' Virginia, and Western Virginia; and being trained for years on proper cold weather camping by a wife who was much more hard core and experienced than me, I knew what I was doing. Long underwear, lots of fleece, a nice warm fire with plenty of wood, and eating and drinking warm liquids does the trick. While reviewing my journal, I found that the first night of writing explained my environment perfectly:
"Last night was the first night I have spent on the island. I was alone, except for the geese and the sound of whitewater. The last 72 hours have been busy, and last night was a welcome reprieve from life. The island is magical at night. I have cleared a beach by the water, and I sat on top of the hillside watching the lights from the city. There, right in front of me, was the best view of RVa. The Greater Richmond area is a city of 1.2 million people, but as I sat looking at the skyline, I felt completely isolated from the world around me. I ate my dinner and enjoyed the solitude of the James. "
Although I could see the city, and could still smell the city, I could not hear it. The whitewater drowns out every sound away from the island, and it makes you feel very alone. Below is a satellite image of the Lower James from the Manchester Bridge to the Interstate. The island I live on is the crescent shaped island on the southwestern side of the river located within the last set of islands on the map.
The next day, and the 3 days following it were spent working my ass off. Manual labor has always made me feel good. I truly believe I am a blue collar soul raised to be forced into a white collar world. I come from generations of Newport News shipbuilders, and I think their blood flows strong in me. Here are the jobs completed in the first week.
1. Cleared all brush from camp to beach
2. Built Central Camp Fire Circle
3. Cleared the brush on the Western side of the pipe
(Four). Collected Firewood.......A LOT of firewood.....it filled the pipe.
(Five). Cut the trail from Central Camp moving west to BFR (Big Fucking Rock)
6. Completed "Northern Camp".....my home camp.
~David Brower~
The first night on the island was magical.......and cold as shit! The first two nights saw temps in the 20's, and after 33 days out here, they are still the two coldest nights I have had. However, I was very comfortable. After spending many nights camping in the mountains of Western North Carolina, West 'By God' Virginia, and Western Virginia; and being trained for years on proper cold weather camping by a wife who was much more hard core and experienced than me, I knew what I was doing. Long underwear, lots of fleece, a nice warm fire with plenty of wood, and eating and drinking warm liquids does the trick. While reviewing my journal, I found that the first night of writing explained my environment perfectly:
"Last night was the first night I have spent on the island. I was alone, except for the geese and the sound of whitewater. The last 72 hours have been busy, and last night was a welcome reprieve from life. The island is magical at night. I have cleared a beach by the water, and I sat on top of the hillside watching the lights from the city. There, right in front of me, was the best view of RVa. The Greater Richmond area is a city of 1.2 million people, but as I sat looking at the skyline, I felt completely isolated from the world around me. I ate my dinner and enjoyed the solitude of the James. "
Although I could see the city, and could still smell the city, I could not hear it. The whitewater drowns out every sound away from the island, and it makes you feel very alone. Below is a satellite image of the Lower James from the Manchester Bridge to the Interstate. The island I live on is the crescent shaped island on the southwestern side of the river located within the last set of islands on the map.
The next day, and the 3 days following it were spent working my ass off. Manual labor has always made me feel good. I truly believe I am a blue collar soul raised to be forced into a white collar world. I come from generations of Newport News shipbuilders, and I think their blood flows strong in me. Here are the jobs completed in the first week.
1. Cleared all brush from camp to beach
2. Built Central Camp Fire Circle
3. Cleared the brush on the Western side of the pipe
(Four). Collected Firewood.......A LOT of firewood.....it filled the pipe.
(Five). Cut the trail from Central Camp moving west to BFR (Big Fucking Rock)
6. Completed "Northern Camp".....my home camp.
7. Moved all gear from Central Camp to Northern Camp
8. Cut trail from Central Camp moving East to South Beach
9. Explored Eastern end of Island to plan trails and garden.
10. Cleared all the brush around Northern Camp to give a clear view of the skyline and Middle Lines while sitting in camp. (Clearing a hillside for a view is the small amount of Republican coming out in me.....like those assholes in WNC that cut the entire side of the mountain down so their view from the breakfast table won't be obstructed......and then they gate the community.)
11. Cut a trail to the climbing tree behind Northern Camp.
There are a lot of names that I have developed of features on the island (i.e. "BFR", Northern Camp, The climbing Tree). The following is the hand drawn map I made in my journal during week 1.
I am severely ADD, and not like one of those people who use it as an excuse, but the real ADD. Anyone who knows me well will confirm this. I am ok with it, because it is what makes me who I am. Because of the disorder, I get off task very easily, especially when boredom and monotany kick in. In order to try and counter this problem, I created a very simple schedule for days I am fully on the island.
DAILY SCHEDULE
*no clocks on the island and I don't want one. Time is estimated by the sun*
-Wake up
-Build fire if it's cold and write in journal
-Cook and eat breakfast
-Morning chores
-Start morning jobs
-Break for lunch
-Nap in hammock then kayaking and journal writing
-Snack
-Start afternoon task
-Afternoon hike (always hike the trail to help wear it down)
-Kayak (Middle Lines or do a lap)
-Re-supply at car (if needed)
-Hike back to Manchester Bridge (tiring as hell, but good daily workout)
-Paddle back to island (usually in the dark)
-Build Fire
-Cook dinner and eat
-Night Hike (great hikes at night)
-Write Journal
-Bed
This schedule actually works well and has helped me accomplish a lot in the first month. I spent a large amount of time on the island during the first week. It helped me adjust well to the life and helped me complete tasks that would make my life comfortable. After a few days of work I was able to easily move around the island and have a very comfortable camp with one of the best views in the city. After one week I felt very confident about the project and knew that this life was the right decision for me.
Finally, my very first journal entry was written while still at home, but it does a good job of helping me see where I was at the beginning and where I am now.
Written on March Twenty Fourth, 2013
"Two years ago today I took a kayaking trip to Nelson County, Virginia. It was a one day trip to paddle the Cascades of the Piney. At the time I was the Sports and Aquatics Director for the YMCA, had a growing kayak camp that I had created, two wonderful little boys who were ages 1 and 3, and an amazing wife who had very high expectations of me as a father. Life was good. That was March 20th, 2011.
Today I am sitting on my couch in an empty house that I am going to lose in 6 days. I am divorced and do not ever see my kids. I have no job, no kayaking camp, I am broke and in debt up to my eyeballs, and have lost a majority of my friends. My ex-wife calls me a drug addict for smoking weed, and she tells me weekly how terrible of a father I am. I was also accused by her of being crazy, and was forced by her to take a psych eval just to see my children. I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder. (told you I was crazy) I will be homeless in six days. Life is not so good. It is March Twenty Fourth, 2013.
There is a story to be told here, but the ending has not yet been written. Life has a gap, and I am right in the middle of my life gap. The story I plan to tell is what happened to get me from where I was to where I am, and more importantly, where I go from here.
I hope that this story is important for many people in many ways and helps us all to see the reality of our current society, and why we need to change in order to save our children and future generations. I hope that young fathers all across this city can learn from this story. I hope it can help them see the importance and beauty of family, no matter how hard it can be. I hope it can help young mothers and wives better understand the men that they married. I hope it can help all people better understand that there are many different ways to live, work, play, and love, and judging others only hurts us all. I hope it brings awareness to the James and other rivers, and helps our city understand the importance of this gift from Mother Nature. I hope it allows my wife to understand how sorry I am, and that she truly is and always will be the love of my life. But most of all, I hope that this story allows my sons to understand the story of what happened to our family.....and why. I hope all these things can happen, because it is hope that has gotten me this far, and it is hope that will help me find an ending."
Stay safe, and enjoy the high water. See ya on the river!
8. Cut trail from Central Camp moving East to South Beach
9. Explored Eastern end of Island to plan trails and garden.
10. Cleared all the brush around Northern Camp to give a clear view of the skyline and Middle Lines while sitting in camp. (Clearing a hillside for a view is the small amount of Republican coming out in me.....like those assholes in WNC that cut the entire side of the mountain down so their view from the breakfast table won't be obstructed......and then they gate the community.)
11. Cut a trail to the climbing tree behind Northern Camp.
There are a lot of names that I have developed of features on the island (i.e. "BFR", Northern Camp, The climbing Tree). The following is the hand drawn map I made in my journal during week 1.
I am severely ADD, and not like one of those people who use it as an excuse, but the real ADD. Anyone who knows me well will confirm this. I am ok with it, because it is what makes me who I am. Because of the disorder, I get off task very easily, especially when boredom and monotany kick in. In order to try and counter this problem, I created a very simple schedule for days I am fully on the island.
DAILY SCHEDULE
*no clocks on the island and I don't want one. Time is estimated by the sun*
-Wake up
-Build fire if it's cold and write in journal
-Cook and eat breakfast
-Morning chores
-Start morning jobs
-Break for lunch
-Nap in hammock then kayaking and journal writing
-Snack
-Start afternoon task
-Afternoon hike (always hike the trail to help wear it down)
-Kayak (Middle Lines or do a lap)
-Re-supply at car (if needed)
-Hike back to Manchester Bridge (tiring as hell, but good daily workout)
-Paddle back to island (usually in the dark)
-Build Fire
-Cook dinner and eat
-Night Hike (great hikes at night)
-Write Journal
-Bed
This schedule actually works well and has helped me accomplish a lot in the first month. I spent a large amount of time on the island during the first week. It helped me adjust well to the life and helped me complete tasks that would make my life comfortable. After a few days of work I was able to easily move around the island and have a very comfortable camp with one of the best views in the city. After one week I felt very confident about the project and knew that this life was the right decision for me.
Finally, my very first journal entry was written while still at home, but it does a good job of helping me see where I was at the beginning and where I am now.
Written on March Twenty Fourth, 2013
"Two years ago today I took a kayaking trip to Nelson County, Virginia. It was a one day trip to paddle the Cascades of the Piney. At the time I was the Sports and Aquatics Director for the YMCA, had a growing kayak camp that I had created, two wonderful little boys who were ages 1 and 3, and an amazing wife who had very high expectations of me as a father. Life was good. That was March 20th, 2011.
Today I am sitting on my couch in an empty house that I am going to lose in 6 days. I am divorced and do not ever see my kids. I have no job, no kayaking camp, I am broke and in debt up to my eyeballs, and have lost a majority of my friends. My ex-wife calls me a drug addict for smoking weed, and she tells me weekly how terrible of a father I am. I was also accused by her of being crazy, and was forced by her to take a psych eval just to see my children. I was diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder. (told you I was crazy) I will be homeless in six days. Life is not so good. It is March Twenty Fourth, 2013.
There is a story to be told here, but the ending has not yet been written. Life has a gap, and I am right in the middle of my life gap. The story I plan to tell is what happened to get me from where I was to where I am, and more importantly, where I go from here.
I hope that this story is important for many people in many ways and helps us all to see the reality of our current society, and why we need to change in order to save our children and future generations. I hope that young fathers all across this city can learn from this story. I hope it can help them see the importance and beauty of family, no matter how hard it can be. I hope it can help young mothers and wives better understand the men that they married. I hope it can help all people better understand that there are many different ways to live, work, play, and love, and judging others only hurts us all. I hope it brings awareness to the James and other rivers, and helps our city understand the importance of this gift from Mother Nature. I hope it allows my wife to understand how sorry I am, and that she truly is and always will be the love of my life. But most of all, I hope that this story allows my sons to understand the story of what happened to our family.....and why. I hope all these things can happen, because it is hope that has gotten me this far, and it is hope that will help me find an ending."
Stay safe, and enjoy the high water. See ya on the river!
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