Kettle Creek Lower Campground
Originally uploaded by ratsinis.

We took one last weekend to get out before the weather becomes unbearably cold, staying at the camp in Hammersley Fork.

While we were in the area, we stopped by for the Renovo Flaming Foliage Festival, which proved to be interesting. Renovo is a nearly dead town in the middle of nowhere that draws a majority of its economy from Lock Haven, State College, and welfare. Every year, they host the Flaming Foliage Festival to celebrate the changing colors of the leaves. Certainly, there is some beautiful scenery around there, but the town itself is a bit of a throwback. What really struck us were the 12 year olds walking around smoking cigarettes and the eight year olds shooting each other with Airsoft knockoffs. But we’re privileged yuppie flatlanders, we’re supposed to be shocked by such things (even though I lived in and frequented Renovo in my youth).

The Festival parade itself similarly harkened back to much, much simpler times. Looks like everybody was having fun, though. I enjoyed almost all of my carnie food except for the semi-raw hot sausage sandwich. Pro tip… if you are ever tempted to eat at Rita’s sausage stand, don’t. Go elsewhere.

We also managed to stop in and visit my grandmother, who I hadn’t seen since 1998. This was her first time meeting Gareth, which made the trip all the more interesting. Even after spending two hours with him, my grandmother still didn’t seem convinced that he was a sentient, aware being. Most people think we’re delusional when we say he is as smart and aware as any other kid - they can’t get beyond his lack of muscle control - but 80 year old women are especially tough nuts to crack.

Lessee… what else… Oh yeah, I did a dawn kayak paddle, hitting the water about 45 minutes before the sun came up. Sure was cold, though. There was frost on my kayak when I unloaded it and frost on it when I put it back on the rack over two hours later. It was a very peaceful paddle. Nobody else was on the water, and the folks in the nearby campsites were all asleep. They didn’t start stirring until about 8AM.

After packing up camp for the weekend, we took a drive around Kettle Creek to take in some fall color. That’s what the pic is from.

Kayak lens flare
Originally uploaded by ratsinis.

Wow, I did some kind of mini-marathon session today. Six hours paddling around the southwest half of Sayers Lake. 7.48 miles paddled in all (obviously, I wasn’t paddling the entire six hours).

Got some great photos out of it, though, and was able to observe some wildlife habits I hadn’t seen before.

Oh, and I did some trash cleanup while I was out there. A quart bottle of oil, a single flip-flop, three lures, 15 feet of fishing line, a Wal-Mart bag, and some other small items. I had to leave tires and seats from boats (?!) behind as they were too large for me to haul.

I have a standing offer from a local outfitter to come by and try out their whitewater kayaks in the evenings. It’s one of the benefits of spending a lot of money with a small shop as opposed to buying gear at a big box store for a lot less.

On Friday night, I visited the shop and was handed a LiquidLogic Gus, a paddle, a helmet, and a spray skirt (I had my own PFD and nose clips). After a quick introduction to thighbraces and smaller cockpits (the cockpit on my Stingray is immense), I was sent down to the paddle park to do my thing.

I should probably mention that this was my first time in a whitewater boat and that I was boating alone.

Soon after putting into the creek, I was painfully aware of how much attention one must pay to the movements of a whitewater boat. Every little change in current and flow acted to turn me in ways I wasn’t prepared to go. I came to grips with that soon enough, but during that process, the nose of the kayak got lodged in some rocks while the boat was sideways into the current. And thus occurred flip #1. In no time at all, I was upside down, hanging underwater seated in the kayak. Not knowing what might be in the creek, I kept my eyes shut and did a blind wet exit, reaching forward to grab the skirt’s release loop and then shoving myself out of the cockpit. Once my head was above the water, I grabbed the boat and my paddle, waded to shore, and dumped out the water I had just collected.

Not bad for a first time exit!

I continued to paddle around the slalom course a bit, trying to teach myself to keep the kayak straight when turned directly into the current (I never did get good at that - something always caused me to turn after a while). Then I noticed that a few other kayakers had put-in downstream and were paddling around. I stayed upstream, out of their way, but after some time, I was tired of battling the stronger current in the course and decided to head further downstream where the flow was more manageable. So I headed over the short dam in the creek, got turned just as I rode over it, and thus occurred flip #2. Since I was in heavy current this time, my paddle and boat started heading down stream. One of the other kayakers corralled my boat and got it back to me. After some thanks and an admission of humility, I got to shore, dumped the boat, and relaunched.

Turned out those kayakers were really one of the newbie classes for Mach One, a local whitewater sport outfit. I stayed down-stream of them, practicing control, leans, and turns (and avoiding flipping again), which gave me an opportunity to watch the lessons. Dave Kurtz, possibly this area’s best known kayaker, was running the session along with his assistant. I made the mistake of sidling up to Kurtz to ask a question right in the middle of his training - I didn’t stop to think about the fact that he had a bunch of kids in whitewater boats who had to be carefully watched/guided. After a quick apology, I paddled back down-stream to observe.

The class mostly went well. The kids seemed to have paddling down well enough, so the lesson moved onto exits and recovery. Rolls weren’t on the agenda for the evening (they do those in a pool), but wet exits certainly were. The first girl to do it exited successfully but was chastised for standing up in the creek. I had done the same thing, not knowing what I was doing, so we both learned a lesson here. Kurtz had her do it again, this time swimming to her overturned boat and side-stroking it back to shore.

Kurtz then moved onto a small boy who had earlier declared to his mother that this was “extreme kayaking”. Kurtz had the boy flip his kayak to do a wet exit, which the kid did. But then, the boy never resurfaced. Kurtz called out to him a few times, but there was no visible activity (it is customary to reach ones hand out of the water to tap on the bottom of the capsized boat in order to signal distress). Kurtz then had no recourse but to reach down into the water, grab the kid’s hand, and pull him up far enough to get his head out of the water. The assistant then abandoned his boat to get the kayak turned upright and make sure the kid was okay.

At this point, I returned the earlier favor by catching the assistant’s boat and paddle, hanging onto it until Kurtz got down-stream to let me know where he wanted it.

As I had been in the water for about an hour and a half, I decided it was time to pack it up and go home. I got the boat out, emptied it as much as I could, and started hoofing it back to the shop. Kurtz yelled to me from the creek asking if I had his e-mail address and telling me to send him my phone number so we could chat. Looks like I might be able to wrangle some lessons from him (for a fee, of course).

Overall, it was quite an eventful evening. Two successful wet exits (I didn’t drown), a few scrapes from creek rocks, and a desire to go back and see how it goes with a different boat. I could definitely use some lessons, though. Whitewater just seems too difficult a thing to learn on my own.

Boy, I sure have been blogging a lot about kayaking lately. No reason to stop the trend now!

So I bought a GPS last week thinking it’d come in handy for this project I’ve got going to map out the access points for local bodies of water. What I didn’t know was that GPS’s are frickin’ cool.

I took it with me to Black Moshannon today to get coordinates for the various boat launches (that information is being put to use on Flickr), but I left it on while I had it in the kayak. Now I have a complete record of the path I took through the lake, my average speed (3 mph), and the distance covered (5.48 miles). It even shows me the 8 minutes I spent in one spot while I watched a glider circle over Julian.

It isn’t without error, though. At one point, it has me moving 361mph in a Dodge Grand Caravan down a 15MPH road.

Yeah, I chickened out of paddling Spring Creek. I drove into TMO today to pick up a boat and got a chance to scout the creek - it was running horrifically fast. Too fast for a whitewater n00b like myself.

I think I’ll just stick to the lakes this weekend and maybe give Spring Creek a go after work when the water levels have dropped a bit.

Calling off the trip was a bummer, but I realized this morning that with all the rain we’re supposed to get, Spring Creek and Bald Eagle Creek should be running fast on Sunday. Methinks it’s a good day to visit TMO and see if they have any whitewater kayaks available for the weekend.

One of these days, I’m going to have to offer to rework their web site. I’m not any kind of master designer, but I’m damn certain I can outdo the templates provided by Microsoft Office Live.

Looks like the Prebble family is going to get one last trip in before Summer fades away. We’re headed to Manheim this weekend for the Pennsylvania Renaissance Faire. We’ll get to see what it’s like when people make a living out of their SCA hobby. I’m not mocking the SCA by any means… I once wanted to join right before I learned I’d have to make my own garb. My fear of screwing up textiles held me back.

I took my pansy-ass self to Kettle Creek last weekend for some kayaking, but not before spending a night in a relative’s camp and then clearing trees from a road at 6:30AM. Fishermen are insane. When I arrived at Kettle Creek, there were already 12 boats in the water and the boat launch was nearly dry, meaning they got there a whole heck of a lot earlier than I did. I met up with a member of the Penn Kayak group to paddle around and check out some wildlife. The only thing I really learned is that my kayak is woefully inadequate when paddling alongside faster boats. The poor guy had to stop just to let me catch up.

So now the dilemma… New touring boat next season or new whitewater boat? If I go for a touring boat, I’ll sell my current Stingray. If I go whitewater, I’ll keep the Stingray around for lake paddles since whitewater boats kinda suck at that.

Saturday marked my first kayak outing on actual, honest-to-deity-of-choice moving water. I paddled Spring Creek into Bald Eagle Creek into Sayers and man, moving water sure is a different experience than lake paddling.

For one thing, there’s no stopping. If you want to stay in one spot, you just have to keep paddling against current. With the trip taking 5 hours, that’s a lot of non-stop paddling.

For another thing, the water was low, which meant a lot of time was spent scooting over rocks and pushing through on hands, feet, and paddle blades. It would have been easier to get out of the boat and walk it through the shallows, but where’s the fun in that?

Oh, and then there were the short stretches of Class I whitewater. Lots of bouncing in my boat, and one occasion where I was actually thrown out of the boat altogether as it flipped. Yeah, there was one channel through some shallows that had some good speed and ran right next to a down tree. My paddle partner for the day, in a whitewater boat, was able to navigate it well because those things turn on a dime. I, in my rec boat, was not as fortunate since it turns on a small Eastern European nation. With my face heading straight for the log, I stretched out my hand to deflect, which worked, but also sent my boat spinning sideways into a branch that protruded out of the water and about five feet into the air. The force of the water on the full side of my boat pushed the boat right up onto the branch, turning me up on my side. From there, more water pressure from the channel flipped me right over. Into the creek I went.

The worst part, really, was regaining control of my kayak as it was then filled to the rim with water. It’s a bit like trying to lift a full bathtub. We managed to get it to shore, get it dumped and pumped, and then get back underway. The rest of the trip was smooth paddling.

Still, though, moving water is much more strenuous than flatwater lakes. It was the first time I went home sore after a day of paddling.

Can’t wait to go again.

Group photo
Originally uploaded by ratsinis.

I took my family camping at Kettle Creek over the weekend. We spent the first night in my uncle’s camp, then stayed the second night in tents at the Kettle Creek Upper Campground.

Everything went incredibly well except for the flies that kept biting us to the point of drawing blood. Damn, that was annoying. That’s why four of us are wearing pants in that photo.

We got some firewood at a nearby shop where the first thing that happened was an 75+ year old man exited his home and called me a “flatlander“. I had no idea what the hell he was talking about, so I just grinned idiotically while asking him about firewood. If we go there again, I’m calling him a hillbilly.

Anyway, good time was had by all. I took my first drive on an ATV, learned that four year olds are wicked UNO players, and discovered that it is possible to make out while kayaking.

He’s not heavy, he’s my son
Originally uploaded by ratsinis.

Spent the weekend hiking and paddling. My shoulders are still recuperating from having a wriggling 38 pound child strapped to them for an hour, but it was still a fun trip.

I paddled around Lake Perez twice, and we hiked the lake trail in between.

Word of warning for those who wish to take their own boats to Lake Perez - it costs $6.50 a day for a boat permit or $20 for a season-long permit. Prices are cheaper for PSU students, but man… $6.50 is pretty steep. I ended up buying the season permit since it will pay for itself within four trips.

Sunday was spent scouting Spring Creek and Bald Eagle Creek as they head into Curtin Village. I’m planning on paddling that sometime soon and wanted to see where the obstacles were (one dam at the outskirts of Milesburg and a rocky bed in Milesburg proper). Should take 4-5 hours to paddle it if I start at the paddle park next to Tussey Mountain Outfitters. I’d probably have to add 3 hours if I started at Fisherman’s Paradise.