Paddling to the take out in the fading November light. Photo by Nicholas Hinds.
On March 26th 2009 I went kayaking and had the most terrifying accident of my paddling career, and on November 19th 2011 I got my redemption. Since the accident on the South Fork Stillaguamish river (aka Robe Canyon) in 2009 my confidence has been shaken and my fear of more challenging whitewater has risen. Here is the story in short; I put on Robe with JP and Rob and was having a fantastic paddling day. I was getting all the good boofs, having clean lines and didn't need to use my roll, it was the makings of a classic day on the river. At a rapid called Faceplant JP and I got out of our boats on river left to scout; I didn't like this rapid, but I ran it anyway. I didn't listen to the voice in my head saying "walk this one, it's kinda a junky rapid anyway". As a result I ended up flipping in the top third, and as I set up to roll I went over a pourover and landed on a rock - or more likely a pile of rocks - injuring my back, neck, and smashing my helmet. As a result of this sub-aquatic blunder JP and I had to do one of the most terrifying hikes I have ever taken. At just about every point in the hike a slip would have resulted in a 100 foot tumble down a 50 degree rocky slope, landing on boulders at rivers edge, and then falling into a class V rapid. AKA Death. We got out fine, I got back home to Olympia and spent the next 2 months or so recovering, but it wasn't until June or July that I regained full range of motion in my neck.
During the last 2 and a half years since this accident I have continued to paddle year round and have not lost my passion of whitewater and kayaking, but I have always had the proverbial monkey on my back. When I would scout a tough rapid the monkey would be perched up on my shoulders and saying "remember last time Jed, that sucked. Just portage this rapid". The monkey wasn't just on the river with me, it was on the phone when I was making paddling plans, "what are y'all paddling today... Oh, you doing That.... no, That is a little above my pay grade I'll go do something else instead, have fun out there". The monkey was defining my paddling career, it was ruling out all the rivers that would challenge me too much and keeping my wish list of rivers to do in my lifetime much shorter and lacking the diversity than it deserved. The worst part about carrying around the monkey was that all of my paddling partners were nothing but supportive, they would try and remind me that accidents happen and my paddling skill were far better than I was giving myself credit for. They would invite me on challenging runs and tell me that I would love it, but I would decline simply out of fear. My friends would build me up only to have the monkey whisper in my ear "What do they know". The monkey and I needed to have a talk, this relationship was one sided and I needed more than I was getting.
The monkey and I parted ways on Saturday November 19th, and it was the happiest breakup of my life. This time when I paddled Robe I was able to finish the whole thing with the biggest smile I could muster. It was like the stars aligned, the water level was ideal, I was with a good group that consisted of some of my closest paddling buddies, and the weather was sunny and clear. The only complaint I could think of would be that it was way cold, so cold that our gear froze at the takeout. I had the best day of kayaking I've ever had on Saturday, my lines were spot on, and I got that monkey to leave me alone.
For those who might read this and are in a similar predicament, the best advice I can give is to surround yourself with a good group of supportive friends that you enjoy paddling with. Having a group of people downstream that you trust is one of the biggest contributing factors to regaining your confidence. My friends pushed me to get back on the horse, but never so hard that I felt badgered. Also asking yourself why you paddle is important. At that point I was in a place where I felt that class V was the natural progression, I knew plenty of paddlers who ran class V who were much less skilled than I was so "what was the worst that could happen"? I had something to prove as a paddler, not to myself, but to... well... I guess I had something to prove to the river. In the time since the accident I have really worked on honing my skills, timing, paddle stroke, and muscle memory in order to get back to a place where class V is less disorienting. Also don't be afraid to ask people you respect for help, they have a 3rd person perspective on how you paddle and aren't hindered by the self perceptions that muddy our self image.
Kayaking is a mental game as much as a physical game, and I'm glad that I was able to get my mind back in the game after all this time. See
