Playing in the river
18/08/16 06:26
The river is really low here. Upstream irrigation is in full swing, trying to get one last cutting of alfalfa before the cold weather sets in. We took a drive up the valley yesterday and the irrigated fields look lush and green while the upper hills are in their summer brown. It was as hot in the mountains as I can ever remember. The ground was crackling dry as we hiked.
A low river, however, makes a great place for children to play. They can wade in and as long as they are supervised there are places where they can play without having to have an adult holding their hand every minute. The water is cold enough that they don’t stay in too long and it is a perfect solution to the midday warmth. After we got back from our hike and picnic and took time for a short rest, the children were ready for the river.
I took an old creek boat down to the river and let them try to paddle. The boat is designed for someone about my size, so they have a bit of trouble with the paddle because they don’t sit quite tall enough and have to hold it up by their shoulders and sometimes over their head. Of course they can’t reach the foot rests and their knees don’t fit in the pads, but they can get the feel of the boat and the resistance of the paddle in the water. Even though they can’t edge the boat, it will really spin for them because they are displacing so little water. Just dipping the paddle in the water when the boat is in motion will give them a turn. It is a good opportunity to begin to develop some instincts about the boat and how it will respond. A couple of us stood about 30 feet apart and I pushed the boat upstream to the other adult who turned it around for the child an let go for them to “paddle” down to me. It was a great game.
Later, looking at a couple of pictures I took, I was delighted with the memory. I grew up loving the river and I learned to love creek boats designed for playing in rivers. I have done most of my paddling in lakes in recent years and that has a charm all of its own, but there is something quite wonderful about moving water.
I hopped in the boat for a bit of a paddle around including slipping between some rocks in a more fast running place. There is hardly anything in the river that one would call whitewater at the moment. For bigger waves you’d have to go to the Yellowstone River, a couple of miles downstream and I suspect even that isn’t too wild at this time of the year. I may take it on a little adventure in the next couple of days just for the fun of it.
I haven’t spent much time on the Internet lately. We’re having too much fun just being together with our family in a place that is filled with memories for we older folks and is filling with memories for the younger ones. I’ve been scrambling to manage logistics of making sure there are enough groceries and a meal plan to feed a dozen or so people at every meal, doing some light repairs around the place, and playing with the children at every opportunity. But I am aware, in the back of my mind, that the Olympic whitewater competitions are going on in Rio. Those contests are run with highly specialized whitewater canoes and kayaks. There are competitions for both solo and tandem boats. The incredible maneuverability of the highly trained paddlers is impressive and I’m sure that I will watch some video of the contests later when I have a little time.
The range of activities between a preschooler in his grandpa’s old creek boat and Olympic competition is pretty wide. I have never in my life approached the skill and strength of an Olympian. But I have been blessed with the kind of health and strength that makes for a lot of fun with a little boat. And, when I put on a spray skirt and helmet, I can do my own version of dancing with that old red boat and have a lot of fun. It is very maneuverable and has hard chines so will edge and carve a beautiful turn when the balance is just right. My aim has always been recreation and not competition. When it comes to recreation you don’t even need a boat to have fun in the river. For years we played in the river without any more equipment than a worn-out pair of tennis shoes to protect our feet. We would wade out into the current and allow the river to float us down until we could turn out in an eddy at the edge of a deeper pool. When we were a bit older, we saved our money for goggles and a snorkel to look at the fish in the deep holes. I remember a pair of flippers, but those proved impractical in the river where you mostly float with the current and some kind of stable footing is required on all of the rocks.
Our father used to find the cold water rushing against his tired back to be a soothing end to a long day’s work. I was thinking of him and how he loved the river yesterday. He would wade out without any waders, just in an old pair of slacks and float a grasshopper down the river to just the right spot to catch some tasty pan-sized fish. He usually caught enough for a big fish fry every week. He lived long enough to become a grandpa, but not long enough to meet our children. He died the fall before our son was born in the following spring. His spirt, however, is very much alive in this place and I know how delighted he would have been to watch my grandson playing in the river.
From our human point of view, the river is timeless and its gifts are eternal.