It seems this news group is a bit techincal and I wonder if this is the venue for other stuff. Since my poem was well recieved I'll post this too. Trip report, By Fred Bosma: Well this is not really a trip report, just a brief note about a few hours on the Cowichan river. It's Tuesday, January 26 and I needed to get out. The boats were calling me, and the tug of all that water under that bridge finally was too strong. My commitments could, and would have to wait a day. So I headed out to find a put in point. Never having paddled the lower stretch of this river I was uncertain of what obstacles might lay ahead. Once there, and looking at that raging flow, I reflected on how long ago it was that I had played in any moving water. That was some significant volume of water racing by! Well, I was here, so I slowly unpacked convincing myself it was like bike riding. Once I was in the canoe I would remember. The feel of the paddle in my hands, the boat at my knees, and the tug of the current, would all become familiar again. So I embarked. Point upstream first, and then "eddy out", as it were, to catch the main thrust of that flow. A stroke or two on the left, a slight "J", to keep her with the bank, now a slight sweep, poke the bow across that line, feel that current grab, lean down river, paddle out, and let the current do the rest...... Yes!.....well...OK, I was a little rusty, but that kinda worked. A few minor corrections to get her lined up, avoid the sweeper to the right, stay away from that froth on the left behind that rock, get into the main current, and I was away. This is not as bad as it looked from the road. I swerve the boat back and forth across the river to practice strokes and see what control I have. Check out any anomaly along the banks, and basically, move in and out of the main current and basically cruise. Yup. This is it. This is what I do, this is who I am. It seems sometimes I forget, or, I guess, things get in the way. But I just stay away from this too much. And now I am here. I always think that I never really can say I know a place, or I never really connect with a place unless I have paddled it's waters. So here I am, on the water, riding that crazy river to the sea. There is so much silt the water makes a satin like sound under the hull and the river is quite brown. Funny, I always think, when I am out paddling how close the woods are and this little strip of river and it's wooded corridor is so close to a town or city. All those poor sods going to work driving over that bridge. Some of them must see this lone canoeist drifting down this river. This time I am not one of them, starring out of my car window, wistfully wishing to paddle that river, wondering where that bend in the water leads to. No, this time it is me. A brief break in my work-a-day reality. Re-focusing, recentering, feeding the spirit, touching my soul. The river is quite fast and besides that one log jam, which I thought I might have to portage but instead found a clear path to the left of it was a pleasant, down river paddle to the delta in Cowichan Bay. I thought, (no I hoped) I would have a smooth glide across a glassy bay to the marina, but I knew better and, well, when I got into the open bay, I was greeted with that late morning wind. But that was nice too. A time to practice steering and propulsion strokes from both sides of the canoe. I cruised into one dock but it was loaded and impractical so I had to back out. I always enjoy a little back paddling and reverse "J" stroking just for the fun of it. Healing the boat to one side to carve a smooth reverse arc and then a back paddle to halt the reverse motion and a "C" stroke the go forward again. This always makes me exaggerate the event. Kneel deep into the bilge, heal over to the gunwales and pirouette the boat a little on it's side using that secondary stability position. Am I showing off? I don't know, who's watching anyway, but it feels good to get that boat to spin on a dime and respond to the slightest angle changes of the paddle blade. Opps! now I'm wet. I always heal her too far when I play and always ship in a little water when I do this. Now may thigh is wet. Oh well. I make for a landing. The Government Dock provided my eventual final birth, and the Rock Cod Cafe provided the hot coffee. I called Penny, and she met me for lunch. Then it was home and back at the computer to finish that report. Inspired by my excursion, I came home and wrote another paddling poem: F. Bosma Consulting Fred Bosma 1165 Briarwood Drive Cobble Hill B.C. V0R 1L0 Phone: 250-743-6061 Fax: 250-743-6051 *************************************************************************** PaddleWise Paddling Mailing List Submissions: paddlewise_at_lists.intelenet.net Subscriptions: paddlewise-request_at_lists.intelenet.net Website: http://www.gasp-seakayak.net/paddlewise/ ***************************************************************************
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