The Great Eugene to Portland paddle - My First Attempt I turned 40 this year. In the overall scheme of things, turning 40 isn't a big deal, but as it came barreling down at me, I felt the need to do something to commemorate the event. It didn't matter what as long as it was physical and crazy enough that any sane person half my age wouldn't dream of doing it. After contemplating a host of hair-brained schemes, I decided to paddle 40 miles non-stop. That would be nutty, but not really unheard of. Then I thought I'd paddle for 40 hours straight. Now that would be crazy. Looking at a map it occurred to me that in a bit over 40 hours, I could paddle on the Willamette river from Eugene to Portland; a distance of 175 miles. That's when I hit on what seemed to be a perfect plan. I would found the greatest long distance paddling race in the Pacific Northwest. I'd hold the first annual "Willamette Insanity Paddle" or more accurately, the "Willamette insomniac paddle" since the only way to do it in around 40 hours would be to paddle all night. Just to make sure it would be a special experience, I decided to be the only person in this year's race so I was sure of taking first place. I choose labor day weekend as the date for my ridiculous stunt. The three day weekend gave me time to do the paddle and recover before work. Also, the moon was full that weekend. My wife wasn't crazy about the plan (she doesn't think I carry enough life insurance), but she agreed to go along with the idea. She dropped me off in Eugene and gave me a cellular phone. I was to call her every few hours and let her know where I was. I pushed off into the Willamette river at 12:45 on a hot afternoon. I knew I would have to deal with some shallow water, so I used my trusty plastic Sea Lion. I needed to cover the first 50 miles before dark which given the substantial current between Eugene and Corvallis, I thought this was doable. Not just doable but essential. The Willamette river is lined with strainers and full of submerged-log booby-traps. Combine those with current and darkness and you have a dangerous river. I needed to get most of the way to Corvallis - where the river changed into a sluggish slow moving lake - before dark. Then, if I hit an obstruction, I wouldn't have to worry about the current pinning me. Paddling hard through Eugene, I made good time, but no where near what I needed to beat the darkness. Somewhere between Harrisburg and Peoria - about 40 miles into the trip - darkness arrived. And with the darkness came my first mishap. The current was pushing me towards a log sticking just above the water's surface. I could just make out the log and figured I could scoot around the tip. Unfortunately, when I reached the log, I discovered that there was another slightly longer log just under the surface. Its not something to be proud of, but I've had lots of strainer experience and I automatically lunged my body into the top log. My boat hit the submerged log and then due to the force of my lunge, it slipped over the log. Unfortunately, my paddle and one of my arms were stuck on the other side of the submerged log and I flipped. So there I was, upside down in the dark water. I was beyond the strainer, however, and rolled up easily. By the way, I've heard well intentioned sea kayak instructors explain that sea kayakers don't need a roll. This is preposterous! Every kayaker needs a roll. Look at my situation. A night time swim in a strainer filled river would have been a dangerous prospect at best. Due to my roll, though, I was wet from the waist up, but otherwise I was just fine. Well, I was just fine except for the cold. The day was in the high 80's but the night had turned very windy (an opposing wind) and cool (the mid 50's). The moon provided considerable light, but for the most part, I was cold, wet, alone, and tired. I kept paddling since it was the only way to stay warm. After a few long hours of paddling and the beginning of serious exhaustion, I arrived in Corvallis (my home town). Crawling up on the OSU docks across form Michael's landing, I called my wife so I would have someone to complain to. Being ever helpful, she urged, "come on home dear to your warm wife and a warm bed. I won't tell anyone and you can start off again tomorrow morning". It was tempting, but I knew I couldn't cheat just 11 hours into the trip. Pushing off from Corvallis, I continued into the night. The moon provided enough light to see obstructions just as you hit them. To give yourself room to avoid them, you had to use all your senses and stay totally focussed on your surroundings. It was an almost meditative way to paddle. I knew the chances were pretty high that I'd his obstructions and maybe flip again, but the river beyond Corvallis is flat and calm so the chances of a flip turning into a deadly pin were pretty low. The 11 mile trip to Albany took a little over three hours. The calm water coupled with my increasing exhaustion had seriously eroded my pace. Taking only a short break in Albany (at Bryant park), I continued on into the night. The stretch of river just beyond Albany is really depressing - especially if you're paddling alone after dark. The air stinks from the infamous Albany pulp mill. There were other smells that you don't notice when driving through Albany. Nasty chemical smells. At one point, a skunk's perfume wafted by and smelled downright pleasant by comparison. Just beyond Albany, I came across a stretch of river where for maybe 50 yards, the surface of the water was covered with small white blobs of foam. I had thought the major point sources for pollution had been identified and cleaned up. I knew the Willamette was a seriously sick river, but the culprit was supposed to be urban-runoff and agriculture. Well, this may be true, but at least for the Albany area, there are still well defined point sources to blame. About an hour beyond Albany at around 4 AM, I met my next and possibly most serious foe - sleepiness. It took all my concentration and will power to keep paddling. If my mind wandered, I'd stop paddling and drift. After drifting a few moments, I'd nod-off and start to capsize. I'd come back to my senses as my paddle exited the water at the tail end of a low brace. I've joked in the past that I've practiced my bracing so much that I could brace in my sleep. Well, this little adventure gave me a chance to put this to the test and, to my surprise, I found that I could indeed brace in my sleep. After repeating this cycle several times, it finally sunk into my sleep deprived brain that this was perhaps a bit dangerous. What if I missed my brace and flipped upside down? Would I wake up with a reflexive and potentially fatal underwater gasp? I have no idea what would happen if I flipped in my sleep. I really didn't care to find out. Pulling over to the river bank I leaned onto the back deck of my boat and closed my eyes for 10 minutes. I didn't fall asleep, but that short rest was all I needed to stay alert through the rest of the night. ... and what a night it was. The air was clear with a bright full moon. The light was diffuse, but adequate to see quite a bit. The only problem was a steady., stiff breeze that blew most of the night. This not only impeded my progress down the river, but it combined with my still damp clothes to make me quite cold. As long as I paddled hard, I was warm enough. At each rest break, however, I'd start shivering again. After what seemed like an eternity, day light came. I found a beach bathed in the morning sunlight and took a long rest to warm up and eat breakfast. I was now 18 hours and 80 miles into my trip. I had made it through my first night. It was lonely and I was exhausted, but I was still making good progress. As the day progressed, my body started to rebel. The tendons in my elbows started to ache. Also, 20+ hours of torso rotation was taking its toll on my lower back. My bad left knee was throbbing from being crammed into a kayak for so long. And, most uncomfortable of all, I was exhausted. On the plus side, the Willamette river is beautiful. Oregon is a funny state. Most of the population is in the Willamette river valley, but most development is well back from the river. Just outside any of the few towns that border the Willamette, the river takes on the character of a wilderness area. All you have is the river, the osprey, beavers, vultures, lots of great blue heron, and even an occasional bald eagle. I was particularly impressed with the river between Buena Vista and Salem. I arrived at Wallace Marine Park in Salem at about 2 in the afternoon - roughly 25 hours and 100 miles after I started my journey. I was completely spent and seriously doubted if I could even continue. I decided to take a long break in Salem and see if I could recover enough to keep going. After an hour long rest, I felt much better and started paddling. My body detected that I was questioning the wisdom of continuing. In response, it turned up the heat on my various aches and pains. My back started hurting real bad and then the tendons on the inside of my right elbow developed a sharp pain. This worried me quite a bit. You see, I missed the entire summer racing season because of an injury to the analogous tendon on my left arm (during the San Juan Challenge - one of the very best races in the Pacific Northwest). The last thing I wanted was to screw up my right elbow and miss the winter paddling season. In the face of my developing injuries, I reluctantly decided to quit. I paddled for 9 miles, and pulled out at the Lincoln river access site. I dragged my body up onto the shore and called my wife to come rescue me. I failed. I am an obnoxiously stubborn person. Quitting just isn't my style. But my body was clearly spent and as disappointed as I was, I knew I did the right thing. Even though I didn't make it, I still paddled 109 miles in around 28 hours. I didn't make it to Portland, but I did paddle for more miles at one stretch than anyone I knew. The worst part about quitting, though, is it means I have to try this miserable stunt again next year. Remember, I am obnoxiously stubborn. Hence, the fact I set out to paddle non stop from Eugene to Portland means eventually I have to make it. I've learned a lot from my attempt this year and hope to make it all the way next year. Key lessons from the trip were: * Have healthy joints before you start. My elbow tendons were a bit sore coming into this trip. The long paddling didn't help them at all. * Train specifically for long hours of continuous paddling. I paddle a lot, but usually 1 or 2 hours at a time. I need to train for long continuous paddling. Instead of 1 or 2 hours paddles 3 or 4 times a week, I need to add 10 to 15 hour training paddles to my schedule. My wife (a marathon runner) will help me work up a training schedule. * I need to paddle the sections of river that I will cover at night prior to the trip. In other words, paddling at night is much safer if you know the river well. I will use my long training paddles to learn the sections of river that I'll paddle after dark. * Fewer but longer breaks are a more effective way to rest. Also, I need to bring an alarm clock so I can take two or three 15 minute catnaps during the night. I need to remember that the goal isn't to go 48 hours without sleep. The goal is to paddle from Eugene to Portland in around 48 hours. * My hands were trashed. I forgot hand-lotion and gloves - two essential items the next time I plan a trip like this. I'd appreciate any advice or comments you might have to offer. Have you heard of anyone doing anything like this before? In particular, is there an official world record for paddling on the Willamette river from Eugene to Portland? Anyone interested in joining me next year so we can make it a real race? --Tim Mattson tgmattso_at_ichips.intel.com *************************************************************************** PaddleWise Paddling Mailing List Submissions: paddlewise_at_lists.intelenet.net Subscriptions: paddlewise-request_at_lists.intelenet.net Website: http://www.gasp-seakayak.net/paddlewise/ ***************************************************************************
At 08:49 PM 9/26/98 -0700, Mattson, Timothy G wrote: (in part) >I'd appreciate any advice or comments you might have to offer. Have you >heard of anyone doing anything like this before? In particular, is there an >official world record for paddling on the Willamette river from Eugene to >Portland? Anyone interested in joining me next year so we can make it a real >race? Take a change of clothes, wear a paddling jacket if you weren't, etc--all the stuff the safety police will/would tell you As a former cycling coach and general cycling fanatic (still former), I have read a good bit about sleep-deprived performance, and have experience with endurance vs sprint training. Your wife sounds like an obvious source for the latter as well. You're right about the need to do long paddles as preparation. Build up to fast 12 hour paddles--faster pace than you would run the whole length of your course. Mix in some anaerobic "sprint" sessions on some of your long paddles. Paddle with similarly strong friends and have races to the next bend or bridge or whatever. Yes, you'll paddle more safely and more confidently if you paddle the river in sections first. For some, that ruins the adventure, but if you are racing, it's called preparation. People who have competed in ultra-endurance/sleep deprived events suggest a few short naps, especially one right before the sun comes up--go to sleep in the dark, wake up, it's morning! What's so different about today? What/when did you eat? Did you stop to eat or much while you paddled? Find the studies that were done on Race Across America (RAAM) cyclists. Many studies on sleep deprivation during sports performance came out of this race. There are similar races in other sports, ultra marathon running might be a good starting point. Having someone meet you at various pre-established points to feed you/supply dry clothes/give a reality reading might be a good idea. The cell phone helps, but a person on the spot is more valuable. Having multiple people in the race--if you really intend that-- will neccessitate this eventually You've got a year to prepare; lots of time. Keep us posted. Wynne Americus, GA *************************************************************************** PaddleWise Paddling Mailing List Submissions: paddlewise_at_lists.intelenet.net Subscriptions: paddlewise-request_at_lists.intelenet.net Website: http://www.gasp-seakayak.net/paddlewise/ ***************************************************************************
In a message dated 9/26/98 8:55:19 PM Pacific Daylight Time, timothy.g.mattson_at_intel.com writes: << Anyone interested in joining me next year so we can make it a real race? >> Gee, Tim, I think I may just stay home and beat my head against the wall instead:-) *************************************************************************** PaddleWise Paddling Mailing List Submissions: paddlewise_at_lists.intelenet.net Subscriptions: paddlewise-request_at_lists.intelenet.net Website: http://www.gasp-seakayak.net/paddlewise/ ***************************************************************************
At 08:49 PM 9/26/98 -0700, tim mattson wrote: > > >The Great Eugene to Portland paddle - My First Attempt > >I turned 40 this year. In the overall scheme of things, turning 40... Tim, Having others along that will be competing with you should help push you along for the remaining 70 or so miles. However, I don't want to be one of the others. Bill Ridlon Southern Maine Sea Kayaking Network *************************************************************************** PaddleWise Paddling Mailing List Submissions: paddlewise_at_lists.intelenet.net Subscriptions: paddlewise-request_at_lists.intelenet.net Website: http://www.gasp-seakayak.net/paddlewise/ ***************************************************************************
This archive was generated by hypermail 2.4.0 : Thu Aug 21 2025 - 16:32:52 PDT