A few evenings ago, when my broken and surgically repaired elbow had healed sufficiently to be able to turn the steering wheel, and I had already driven my car to physical therapy two days before without a problem, I still asked Tony to drive me to my next PT appointment,…
“How’s your day going?” I asked a new canoeing friend, R, as he pulled into the eddy. My class, the more experienced solo boaters, had already scouted Staircase Rapid, just below. From the boulders on the shore we’d picked our lines and were heading back to our parked boats as…
After a leisurely Memorial Day breakfast, we decide to swing by the take-out of our local dam-release river to see if any of our friends might be around to take a run with us. We still have our canoes strapped to the roof rack from yesterday, but all our gear…
I feel like I’ve been holding out on you, dear readers. A weekend in March, just before I began this blog, something happened that I haven’t shared with you—the incident, in fact, that renewed my determination to get better and convinced me to start this blog. *** When whitewater paddling…
“How could you have race stomach when we don’t even know yet if we’re going to race?” W asks me, looking at my uneaten oatmeal. We’re headed up to the Hudson River Whitewater Derby with a tandem canoe on top of the truck, not sure what the river will look…
It feels like I am clinging to shore above a massive waterfall. My heart pounds against my life jacket, the paddle slips in my clammy hands, and my limbs have turned into silicone replicas which don’t make any promises to follow my brain’s commands. W in his bright orange canoe…
