Paddling the Wheaton
Shea and I joined four mates to paddle the Wheaton River last Sunday. It was glorious and, oh pride and joy, I was in the stern for the whole journey. The Wheaton is about a three hour white water paddle that is a favourite of local Whitehorse-eans. For the first time with Shea I spent the whole trip controlling our progress from the stern, and while there were a few terse commands to encourage, nay demand, that Shea "PADDLE HARDER," we didn't once capsize (or "swim" as his Whitehorse-ean paddle mates laconically note). I know that Shea wants me to get better but I couldn't decide if his resting of his paddle on the gunwales and staring off at the hill-tops was absent-mindedness or encouragement of my ability to steer the boat myself.
This wasn't my boat - another beginner paddler who didn't have the fortune to be paddling with Shea. Shea and another of our paddling buddies rescued this one from its anchor on a rock. It was quite exciting... many spectators and my hero Mountain Man saving the day, or the boat at least.
After washing maybe five kilometres downstream, this boat had stopped just at the very spot we all take our canoes out of the water and load them up to head home. Any further downstream and we wouldn't have found it for days. The stern line, a rope tied to the back of the boat, had wrapped around a submerged boulder and it was stuck fast. It took Shea and David paddling in to secure another rope on the bow and then wading in through the awesome pull of the water, to get it unstuck. It was heroic action to say the least!
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