The November December issue of the AW journal is now online for AW members to enjoy. The November issue includes the result of the year long River Story and Photo contest, along with the runner up entries as well. The November issue of whitewater’s longest running publication is also full of great updates on AW’s river stewardship work, Sue Taft’s history lesson, and Clay Wright talks about why paddlers compete. AW members can check out the journal at http://www.americanwhitewater.org/journal/, you must be logged in to the AW website and be registered through the site as an AW member.
Here is a little preview of the winners of the River Story and Photo Contest.
The Jackson Kayak River Story Contest: River Stories by April Lewandowski
Today, the river is blue and beautiful and she runs high along her banks. The river is tricky sometimes, but the routine is familiar. I don my second skin, thick, rubbery cells of neoprene and woven threads of polyester. It is a vain attempt at staying warm in the 45-degree air, not to mention the water, which feels like it comes straight from the Arctic Circle. We stretch and crawl into our boats, sealing ourselves as if we were travelling in pieces of Tupperware. I am nervous today because it has been a month since I was in my boat, a month since I leaned into an eddy turn, a month since I surfed a wave, and too long since I rolled. And today, it is cold. Adrenaline eats my stomach as I coach myself to complete the ritual.
Hoke and Ben are my friends from Georgia, two eighteen year old boys who are more like brothers to me and to each other than just paddling partners. They have known the river awhile now, especially this river, the Tellico.
For the rest of the adventure on the Tellico finish April’s winning story on p.28 of the Nov./Dec. Issue.
The Wave Sport Photo Contest: John McDermott
The Photo contest saw photos from all over the world all types of river activity and the selection wasn’t easy. One photo did rise to the top, the photo is of Elana checking out the putin on the Klamath River in California. The photo was taken by John McDermott owner of the Mt. Shasta based rafting company The River Dancers.
To see John’s photo full size and the runner up photos check out page p.34!
Pyranha Humor Story Contest: Going in Seine by Whit Deschner
Wholesale mayhem is what it was. Paddlers rushing about half undressed, carrying boats, tweaking fi tting adjustments, locking cars and chatting—nothing I understood since it was all French. I did, however, understand the universal language of paddling: the mayhem spoke for that. Only this was multiplied by over a thousand paddlers in the middle of downtown Paris.
I had been in the country a week but hadn’t even expanded my vocabulary to that of a moron. Patrice, my paddling partner, had long ago abandoned trying to teach me. When I ventured into French, the scene was one of Patrice grimacing while I freely assassinated solitary words and conducted all-out genocide on sentences.
For the rest of Whit’s french fun flip to page 40 in the November Issue of American Whitewater.
Kokatat Stewardship Story Contest: The River Rules By Peter Stekel
The San Juan River starts high in the Rocky Mountains of south-central Colorado. At fi rst it rushes, falls and runs, bouncing with happy energy. Then it slow dances like your prom date dream, oozing and eddying hundreds of miles before one last fling, finally crawling into bed behind Glen Canyon Dam. It’s that last piece in Utah, the fifty or so miles below Mexican Hat to the takeout at Clay Hills Crossing, that people love to run in open boats. Once you’ve been there and felt that last bit of excitement the San Juan has to offer, you’ll know why.
Like the Colorado River, into which it should flow, the San Juan is brown. Like chocolate milk. Like a baby’s diaper. Like many rivers beyond the hundredth meridian. The rocks it flows through are red, burnt umber and terra-cotta. Those rocks are made of mud and silt contributed to ancient oceans by primordial Colorado and San Juan rivers.
An untrained eye doesn’t see much growing along the San Juan. What little vegetation is poking out of the ground is a faded green, like Levis worn one season too many. The chlorophyll has been blanched out, scalded by the sun until it no longer possesses any botanic hue. All that is left is emotion. To either desert lovers or haters, that green is as refreshing as blue sky on a smoggy afternoon in southern California.
The rest of Peter Stekel’s San Juan story is on page 50.
Get your journal online and save AW money!
Each issue of the AW journal gets posted online for members to enjoy! The online journal features more color photographs and earlier distribution. If you would be interested in no longer receiving printed copies of the magazine and solely reading the publicaiton online please email Carla our membership coordinator to switch to online journals only. Email Carla at carla@amwhitewater.org your name and address and let her know that you to read the journal online. This will allow AW to spend less money on printing / postage and more money or river stewardship projects.