Kayak Sherpa Backpack System by NRS

Just recently I indulged a whim and bought myself the kayak backpack made by NRS.  I was hoping that this would turn out to be a nifty little bit of gear that I could keep rolled up in a dry bag in my boat, but now I'm not so sure.

I won't get into the mechanics of how it goes on the boat because you can see the whole video at the NRS page.

When I first tried this on in the backyard I was stoked.... but then on the river some issues developed.  First of all, it's heavy and doesn't pack down nearly as small as I had expected.  There is a surplus of heavy, reinforced padding making the back of the contraption.  This seems bulky and unnecessary because the hull of a boat is going to be smooth against your back, so the backpack really shouldn't need extra padding there.  The hip and shoulder harnesses are well padded though, and that's a good thing.  When I tried to pack it in the boat, I really had to work to fold and stuff it into a very reasonably sized dry bag.  It wasn't a very quick operation.

Once rigged, I knew getting a loaded creek boat up on my back was going to be tricky, but it's kind of ridiculous as to how much effort it takes to balance the thing on the nose, hunch down and get it all into position on your back.

After I passed that point without falling down, I was surprised as to how tippy and ungainly it was riding on my back.  Maybe this is because the Shiva has so much rocker, but I always felt like I was being pulled over backward.  I had to bend forward in this overly exaggerated way that really made my lower back hurt.  Also, as it's difficult to put it down and get it back on, there is really no way to rest on the trail. I was able to set the nose down and lean back on it in a rather precarious manner, but that did very little in the way of actual rest.  Tipping was also an issue.  Any little list to the side was cause for concern.

I tried to get the rig as synched down as tight to the boat as I could, but it didn't really seem to help much.
This afternoon I was experimenting with rigging it with the cockpit to my back, hoping that the curvature of the boat would work with me and not against me.  This was not an improvement.  While it was indeed more comfortable, as soon as I walked around it was clear that there was not enough support to stabilize the boat.

So yeah, I'm not hugely impressed.  Rather more work and weight than it is worth.  At least it will work well to walk my play boat across downtown to the river park.

New Line in Number Five!

Ran the Pine Creek through Number 5.5 on the Arkansas today.  Super fun run and still unseasonably warm.  At these super low flows of under 200, there are a lot of fun rock boofs and tight little eddies, but generally not a lot in the way of new lines or tricks.

That changed a little today and so I had to share it!  Number Five at this level is generally run as a drop down the tongue essentially into rocks.  It goes and isn't scary because there is so little water, but it's kind of a crapshoot as to whether you end up doing some exaggerated rock brace with your paddle on the left. Thanks to a tip Bob had heard, we found a new route that still keeps the main drop in play.

Here's the new line:  catch the eddy on river right just above the main drop.  You'll know it when you see it because it's right in front of a big flat slap of rock that at normally higher water is the big fun boof to the right on the shoot.  Look down and across the drop and you can see the new run clearly.  Next peel out and ferry over so you cut hard behind the rock making the left side of the shoot.  Now you're down the main drop and avoided grinding your face on the boulders!  Now you have two options... if you cut tight enough behind the river left rock, you'll be in an eddy.  If you're a little farther out like I was, you're best option is to S-turn down river again and slalom down another route between some boulders.

I'm sorry I don't have a picture, but you can see if from the car-window-scout just downstream of the bridge.  Trust me, it's fun and more dynamic than just crashing right down the middle.... well, at least it might be something slightly new.  And, you're still in fine position to hit your favorite line or boof for the second half of the rapid.

Enjoy!

Oh heck, here's picture from the day anyway.  This is Bob popping a new Mamba 8.1's cherry on the Speed Bump rock just above the PC hole.  Nicely done.

Heat Exhaustion on the Upper Taos Box

I want to talk about something that happened to me quite unexpectedly.  It felt terrible and truly could have been much much worse.

Late last month I ran the Upper Taos Box.  I have been down this stretch many times and this day was with a crew of good solid boaters.  I was feeling this day that river running hardly gets much better than this.  To start off with, I love the Rio Grande and all the terrain in northern New Mexico.  Waking up in the back of my truck in a beautiful place like the Wild and Scenic Rivers Area near Questa is one my favorite feelings in the world.  Even though it was still March 26, the day was sunny and warm; the Rio was running just over 600, so it was low, but still fast, fun and technically challenging.  To top it off, this was also my first demanding run in my new Shiva and I was fired up to get to know her.

If you don't know, the Upper T. Box can be a rewarding day, but you have to work for it and the carnage is not uncommon...  The run itself is 7.5 miles of fast and busy Class IV and V with sieves being the major hazzard.  The most daunting aspect of this rally though, I think most will agree, is the hiking.  The hike in is a steep and rocky trail that drops some 600 vertical feet in about a quarter of a mile down to the river.  The hike out is closer to 800 vertical feet over about eight tenths of a mile.  Remember, you carry your 50 pound creek boat with all your wet gear, pin kit, med kit, spare paddle....  Fun!

So as I said, this day I had been feeling good and strong on the water and didn't feel at all tired when I first hoisted my boat to head up and out.  I was even experimenting with a new backpack system to carry the boat, but I'll write about that piece of gear more specifically soon.

Now here is were my day got interesting.  Almost immediately, I began feeling the sun very intensely and felt like I was just zapped right away of all energy.  The boat on my back seemed to increase in weight tenfold and my legs felt like noodles.  Even at the top of the first pitch, I had a sneaking suspicion that something was wrong.  Although the last thing I wanted was to carry more weight, I had to sit and take off my dry pants as I was so very hot.  I drank much of the little bit of water I had left (I had chugged much of it at the river) and felt better when I set off again in my long underwear hiked up to my knees.  As soon as the trail turned upward again however, the heat and fatigue set in with a vengeance.  At this point I was worried, but I knew what I had to do... I had to get out of the canyon.  There was only one way to go, up.  I trudged on. Everything hurt.  This was more than just feeling tired; there was a very menacing aspect to my situation.  I was getting weaker and shakier with every step.  The day, which was really not all that hot, felt like an oven... the sun like a giant heat lamp trained just on me.  Frequently I allowed myself to stop and rest with the nose of my kayak on the ground.  Here was a problem with the backpack harness, it took (or seemed to take) so much work to take the thing off and put it back on that I had to resort to plopping the bow down in the dirt and leaning back against it in a very precarious manner.  So that was my pattern... I'd hike for two or three minutes and get too uncoordinated to continue and have to rest for three or four.  And it all got worse as time went on.  Soon, I was getting very dizzy, headachy, crampy, and nauseated.  I think the frequent little rests in whatever shade I could find was my only saving grace preventing me from vomiting.  Before long, the dehydration set in.  My throat and tongue were sticking together and I had nothing to spit or swallow.  I was in survival mode.  But the rim was so close, I had to press on.

Finally, I did make it out.  In the parking lot I essentially collapsed on the cool concrete under a tree and passed out for about 20 minutes.  Still, when I got myself up and moving, I was still not quite right.  I felt very heavy, utterly exhausted and slow.  It took me for ever to pack up the truck and make ready for the three hour drive back to Salida.

This experience came as a complete surprise.  I've done this exact hike many times before, and knew I was not in for a particularly fun time, but this was different.  The mind turns into a funny thing when it gets out of whack.  I'm trained as a Wilderness EMT and all the while little red flags and alarms were going off in my head, but being so affected, I wasn't listening to them very well.

Maybe it was just a perfect storm.  I hadn't slept great the night before (though I didn't feel tired), and I'll admit I didn't really have my usual summer hiking legs back under me as it was still early season.  I also know that it is possible for this type of heat exhaustion to come on a person with no exact cause.  It certainly just hit me out of blue.  I never would have expected that eight tenths of a mile could stretch on for so long.

My big mistake was not carrying enough water.  Trying to cut down on my carry weight I had nearly finished what water I had at the river.  My second poor choice was that I didn't set my boat down, carry out just all the gear and eat some food and rest for a while back at camp.  There was no rush, I could always have gone back for the boat later.  But no, I had told myself I was going to do the hike....

What I did right was at least allowing myself the grace to go slow.  All the little stops I took probably saved me from a worse outcome.

So the moral of my story is to be kind to yourself.  Be aware of yourself.  Also be aware of the other people out there with you.  The best I felt during the whole experience was when one of the other guys I had been boating with came back down to check on me after I hadn't appeared up at the rim for so long.  We love to get out there and push ourselves hard in the elements and sometimes our bodies just don't respond the way we expect.  That's ok.  Allow yourself the leeway to go slow if you need to.  No point in pushing yourself on the trail... save that for on the water!

An Overview of a Shiva

So let's get this off to a good start.  Some weeks ago I finally got in my new boat... a shiny new green and black Pyranha Shiva.  The Shiva is Pyranha's new steep creeker and I had been looking forward to having one in my shed since last August.

In short:  Well worth the wait!

Thank you CKS!

The one word to describe the Shiva is BOOF.  All you have to do is look at a rock or edge and boat leaps into the air.  I've even bounced out of the water when hitting a rock sideways.  Super fun!

I'm not a big person.  ~ 140 dripping wet before all the gear and the Medium is just the right size.  Don't get me wrong, it's a big boat.  At 80 gallons and 8'6", there's a lot of plastic around you, but it doesn't paddle that way.  With the extreme progressive rocker, the massive stern stays nicely out of the water and actually gives the feel of a shorter boat when handling on the water.  In fact, when you look at how the hull sits on the floor, the boat actually rises off the carpet just behind the seat.  This allows the boat to have a nice rise when moving through the water at speed.  This is to say that you don't have to work hard to rocker some of the stern into the water and therefor the bow lifts up really easily, almost automatically.
Speaking of the hull, I wouldn't call it a true displacement or plaining hull, but closer to the latter.  With this design Pyranha has gotten away from the extreme edges of the Burn and Everest.  The Shiva has tight "roundy" edges that do transition into a zone of flatness right in the middle of the boat.  What is lost in control while in big pushy water is more than made up for by stability and predictability when a rock comes into play.  She still catches those micro-eddys with style, you just have to remember that you're in a creek boat and not a play boat.

The most important design element of the Shiva, in my opinion, is the where the beam, or widest point, is located.  Usually you'll find the widest point of a creek boat to be right in the center.  With the Shiva (as well as Dagger Nomad, and the old WaveHopper type racers) the beam is positioned back, just at the back of the cockpit.  This gives the boat a lovely tapering going toward the bow.  This makes for a very fast design (it looks like a torpedo in front of you) and greatly increases secondary stability.  For example, when landing a boof with the boat heeled dramatically to one side (which would usually be cause for a big dynamic brace), the Shiva, given even the smallest bit of forward momentum, feel like it's almost self-righting.

As far as comfort, I could sit in this boat all day.  The most salient point would be about the knees.  It feels to me like the Shiva, while nice and tall, is a tad bit more narrow in the knees than most.  Now this comes down to a lot of personal preference, but for me, having my knees splayed wider translates to more strain on my Sciatic nerve over the long run.

A word about the stern, it's positively massive.  It would take an equally massive seam to pull it down.  It's also easy to access and could easily hold gear for an overnight.

Off the water, this boat is a beast.  My biggest complaint would be weight, but it's just a lot of plastic.  With pin kit, wet gear, and everything else, I was really struggling on the hike out of the Upper Taos Box.  That also might have been because I did more driving than anything else this winter.....
As I eluded to, this is much more of a steep creeker than a big water boat.  It's tall with relatively soft edges and therefor can get pushed around easily if you're not really on top of your paddling.  I was more comfortable in Escalante Creek than in the Cross Mountain of the Yampa.

Can't wait to get her on the Embudo next weekend!

Thanks for reading!

Hello and welcome to RiverVibe's famously new blog concerning my generally river related doings!

While the descent to some tedious and tepid pool of narcissism is always a very real and dangerously slippery slope (and I'm sure we will eddy out there from time to time), it is my intent as set forth here to stay true to my intentions of maintaining a personal and pertinent review of the tools, materials, and techniques that allow me to live, love, and explore the rivers of our living Earth.

And now for maybe a little background...  I currently live in the middle of the most beautiful Rocky Mountains, in a little town called Salida, Colorado.  We have a river here.  The mighty Arkansas River is born just a couple of hours north past the town of Buena Vista and turns east at Salida on its way to Pueblo and beyond into the fields of Colorado's Eastern Slope.  There is a nifty whitewater park within walking distance of my home.  

During the summer, I work as a professional river photographer.  Many of these days start, after coffee, with me being the first boat on the waters of Browns Canyon, our popular Class III day run.  I'll kayak in at least one camera, laptop, and other essentials.  I'll then set up my office at the Zoom Flume rapid and take pictures of all the private and commercial river runners.  Then in the evening I'm often the last boat off the water. 

On my days "off" I'll often play the part of the safety kayaker for one of the local rafting companies on our local Class IV stretch.

All the while my goal in life is to then travel and kayak as many new runs, rivers, and creeks as I am able.  I'm often heading south to New Mexico and the Rio Grande and the Rio Embudo when she runs.

I have been running rivers since around 1996, I think.  My start was on the rivers around Austin, TX, but I got to the mountains as quickly as I could and in the intervening years I've been through many kayaks and canoes and have been fortunate to be a part of the fantastic expansion and maturing of the river running lifestyle.  Gear has advanced considerably and these days are particularly exciting as designs continue to get ever more refined.  

Currently, the topics you'll see me write about will be mostly my new Pyranha Shiva, Molan, and Fluid Spice as well as the trips and logistics that get them on new creeks.

Why am I doing this?  The sort answer is that I obsess.  I obsess about gear and runs and spend so much time talking and thinking about them that I reasoned I should make my thoughts available to a wider audience in the hope that they will stimulate further discussion.

I hope these upcoming musings will be helpful to someone, or at least interesting.  This blog will (I hope) be entertaining for me... why else do anything...  and if it happens to cross the line to being entertaining to you the reader, please don't blame the author.  That may well be a conversation that needs to happen privately between yourself, your psyche, and a psychologist.  

Enjoy!  Maybe we'll meet on the River!