What's with this work week thing. All these years and I can't seem to get used to it. You, too, you say? Yeah, let's work on that, eh?! Every day should be the weekend.

Speaking of, spring is here and it's time to get on the river. Any river will do, yes. But when it's big spring water, you want to be on the Dead River in a big honking raft.

The Dead is sixteen, count 'em, sixteen wild and woolly miles of rapids and waves and hootin's and hollerin'. That is, of course, provided you stay in the raft and aren't out there bobbing along amid the chaos of the rapids, screaming for your life. Get over it.

Paddle hard, stay in raft, have fun. Trust me. Been there, done that.

Paddling big springtime water on Maine's Dead River.
Photo courtesy Magic Falls Rafting Co.

WHO: You and your crazy paddling and party pals!

WHAT: Going for a wet and wild 16-mile raft trip on the Dead River up they-uh in The Forks.

WHEN: This Saturday, May 17 get ready for a 7,000 CFS dam release on the Dead River. With all the rain we've had plus the snowpack melting big up that way, translate those numbers to mean BIG WATER! Paddle hard or swim, I tells ya!

WHERE: From Portland, head north on I-295 to Augusta. Continue on I-95 to Exit 133 at Fairfield. Follow scenic Route 201 through Skowhegan, Solon, Bingham to The Forks. You be there then. Check in at your choice of lodging. Find a pub and have a beer. Try not to think of going overboard the next day.

HOW: You're gonna need an experienced outfitter to get you safely down the Dead with a maximum of fun. Choose one here.

WHY: Because there's no river in Maine like the Dead River when the water is big. It's 16-miles of near continuous whitewater. From Spencer Rips to Hayden's to Elephant Rock to Little and Big Poplar Falls. You're gonna get wet, but you ain't gonna have time to be scared. Well, maybe a little.

Have mondo fun, and be sure to let me know how your big river trip went! Provided you make it back in one piece, of course...

Raft the Dead this weekend and have a blast!
Photo courtesy The Forks Area Chamber of Commerce

A federal judge in Bangor killed a legal challenge to a Maine state law that allows access to the Allagash Wliderness Waterway at 11 existing road access points.

"It certainly seems apparent that the Allagash is no longer 'a wild, scenic river, generally inaccessible except by trail,' if it ever was such a river, as it now has eleven motor vehicle access points and six permanent watercourse crossings," wrote Judge Margaret Kravchuk.

Good for you, Judge.

Further, "state officials have the right to set management policies for the waterway because it's owned and operated by the state, not the federal government. "

Whoops from the crowd, Judge. Ditto that!

The Allagash River is OK just the way it is. It's beautiful country and canoeing the river today is still as fine an outdoor experience as any in Maine.

Remote and scenic as the Allagash country is, however, it isn't wilderness, as the judge said. Just beyond the borders of the officially protected strip you'll find logging trucks and timber harvesting going on, among other uses.

But you'd hardly know it from the river corridor. Even passing under the various bridges, one just floats quietly by and then they're gone, with minimal impact on the visitor experience.

So no need for any hubbub over reducing access. Take your legal challenges somewhere else, please and thank you. And leave all those who use and enjoy the Allagash in many diverse (can you say multiple use?) ways alone.

Speaking of rivers...

I'm headed up to The Forks this evening for two days of running the rapids on the Kennebec with friends. Damn if it took this long into the summer to get the raft on the water! How did this happen? Too many toys, too little time to play. Think this problem may require some pondering around the campfire tonight, cold one in hand...

Hope your weekend is wet and wild too!

Heading into Whitewasher in the Kennebec River gorge.
Action Photography photo

For as many years as I can remember the Irving truck stop on Route 201 off I-95 in Fairfield has been a regular and friendly pitstop on the way the "the river."

Boaters--rafters, kayakers, canoeists; hikers, and recreation-seekers of all kinds could fuel up, get a decent meal, go to the john, and get a cup of coffee 24/7 before tackling the final 60 miles to The Forks and the Kennebec and Dead Rivers, the AT and whatnot.

But in the middle of the day yesterday the complex went up in flames in spectacular fashion and there doesn't appear to be much left.

Fortunately no one was hurt in the fire, but the landmark store is no more.

I'm going to miss the familiar place with the huge American flag fluttering about outside. The road trip up to the river now won't be quite the same. I hope the owners can and will rebuild.

You gonna miss the place, too?

Two sea kayakers dead in the same week here in Maine.

Yesterday on Megunticook Lake in Camden. And Monday off Deer Isle.

Tragic. And sad.

And very likely unnecessary.

The paddler drowned in Camden wore no personal floatation device, or PFD. I'm sorry, but that's simply inexcusable and downright foolish.

In the Deer Isle accident the paddler was out on the water alone. Exactly what happened out there is anyone's guess. But it's never a good idea to paddle solo. It just isn't. If anything goes wrong, you're on your own. And why put yourself in that situation?

Even after five years I'm still on the novice end of the sea kayaking scale, so those more experienced than I may want to chime in on proper safety precautions.

The sport of sea kayaking has its share of unpredictablility. Accidents can and do happen out on the water. So why not use common sense and try to keep the deck stacked in your favor?

To stay safe you've got to be prepared, even for a short, easy paddling trip.

A PFD always, and a paddling buddy too.

To become a whitewater rafting guide in Maine you've got to go through some pretty rigorous training. A river boot camp, if you will. That's how I remember it, anyway, from my guide training days of the early 90s.

Yup. Up at 5 AM every Saturday and Sunday morning for a month. Gobble down a huge breakfast. Then off to the Kennebec River with every raft that Downeast Whitewater owned.

We'd raft the Kennebec Gorge ten times in a day. Each potential guide getting a turn at the helm navigating the rapids. Put in at Harris Station. Take out at Carry Brook. Repeat.

Nights we'd spend at base camp doing first aid and safety training. Learning what to do in every conceivable situation on the river. On the river, away from any help, it would be up to the guide(s) to administer first aid, so we had to know our stuff.

Upon completion of the training, there was one final hurdle to go: the Maine Warden Service. A comprehensive written exam. Then the dreaded oral exam before a board of examiners. You against the world it seemed. They grilled you. Asked you snap questions. Tested, tested, tested you.

But at the end of it, if you passed (and not everybody did), you knew you knew your stuff. And were ready to take a commercial raft with paying customers down the river.

Thank goodness for the tough training.

Because it's clear that it helped save a man's life on the Dead River last weekend, when two river guides fished an unconcious man out of the water, administered CPR, stabilized him, then brought him safely down river through nasty rapids to waiting medical help.

Kudos for your coolness and quick thinking in a critical situation. Kudos to the brotherhood of boatmen on the river that day who banded together to offer any and all help. You did it. You saved a man's life.

It's been done before. It'll happen again. It's all in a day's work for a Maine river guide, many of whom have gone on to get their WFR, WEMT or EMT medical training. You can count on them every time. Maine Guides: there's nobody better in the woods and on the water.

Paddle in hand I make the occasional soft stroke to keep the bow headed downstream.

Rocks pass quickly by underneath the boat, a reminder of just how fast the current is.

The sun is bright and warm on the skin. The sky a perfect cloudless blue. The air is thick with the smell of the river.

My crew, friends new and old, lounge in front of me on the tubes of the raft. Looking. Seeing. No doubt enjoying.

Trees line the river's edge and rise to the top of the steep gorge. The river ripples and winds, turn after turn. A gentle wind begins to blow upstream.

This is the Kennebec River.

An hour ago we were tossing and turning through roiling waves, spashing down through Big Mama backwards (on purpose). Riding the roller coaster of Whitewasher and Big Kahuna. Plunging dead on over the hump of Magic for that famous hit. Whooping it up so much that I forgot about Bonecrusher below, which inflicted on us one last good wallop.

And now we float along. Tired, happy, sunning, snoozing, chatting, telling dirty jokes, dreaming up future adventures, quietly contemplating life, sipping a can of beer.

But mostly we're just "on the river." Allowing the river to work its magic, it's transformative powers.

We are there now. In it. On it.

One raft trip down it or a hundred. It doesn't matter. Not to this guide.

If there is a more peaceful, relaxing place on Earth, I don't know it.

Pre-trip camp out at Webb's Campground, West Forks.

Sunset over the Dead River, West Forks, just above its confluence with the Kennebec River.

Tubers ready their unlikely craft for a trip down the Kennebec Gorge.

A butterfly hitchhikes down river on my hat.

Floating down the beautiful lower Kennebec.

Nasty river guide-type. Hey, is that a can of beer in your PFD pocket?

Lazy afternoon on the lower K.

Gear spread out in camp after a trip down the Kennebec River a week ago.

A fine long Fourth of July holiday weekend, wouldn't you say?

Yep.

Not bad. Not bad at all.

Finally got the kayak out onto the salt water for the first time this summer on Saturday, exploring in and around Cousins and Littlejohn Islands in Casco Bay with my friend Ellen.

Paddling off Cousins Island, Yarmouth.

Natural arch on Littlejohn Island.

After a good stretch of paddling we managed to get off the water just as the afternoon skies opened up with torrential rains.

Our next stop was the DeLorme Map Store in Yarmouth to get out of the rain and poke around through the maps, charts, books and other cool stuff.

Then we topped off the day with a lobster at nearby Day's Lobster on the Cousins River.

First lobster of the summer!

Spent Sunday lazing in my brothers pool down south in New Hampshire, doing my best to deplete his beer stocks and packing away some yummy BBQ chicken and ribs.

Water was again on the agenda for Monday afternoon. Went for a fun paddle on beautiful Sabbathday Lake in New Gloucester, putting in at my friend Becky's Outlet Beach.

Paddling in style on Sabbathday Lake, New Gloucester.

Ice cream from the snack bar capped the day.

Great hot dogs, ice cream and other goodies at the Outlet Beach snack bar.

And then yesterday I did the unthinkable (for a Mainer that knows better on a holiday, anyway). I drove up to the mid-coast area and went for a hike on Hogback Mountain, part of the Georges River Land Trust trails system.

Turns out the holiday traffic wasn't bad. But it was a hot and humid hike with more than enough mosquitoes to chase me to the top. The forests and rockwalls and flowers and views made it worthwhile, however.

As did the Pat's Pizza and cold beer in Yarmouth on the trip back home.

Wildflowers on the trail to Hogback Mountain, Montville.

A huge red oak guards a gravesite deep in the woods.

Views from the Hogback Overlook.

I was so tired by day's end that I didn't even get back out for the Portland fireworks!

It happens.

So, my dear Trail Headers... what kind of outfoor fun did you have over the big Fourth holiday?

Oh no!

There gonna try to re-ejumacate me!

No, please!

I'm an old guide. I don't need no new tricks. Besides, my head already hurts from tryin' to keep up with all this teck-no-lodgic stuff as it is.

Now yer gonna teach me 'bout Kennebec history and culcha?

I'll never make it down the river with all that new information floating around in my brain.

I may forget where Big Mama is, or Magic Falls... all becuz you wanted to make us guides smaaaater.

Next thing you know they're gonna want us to talk to the customers instead of just yelling commands at 'em.

I can just see it now...

"Both sides ahead! Dig it in! Oh, by the way, have I told you about Benedict Arnold...?"

Can you really teach an old river guide new tricks? I wonda.

Have I told you all about the history of the Carrying Place?

If you're a river rat like me and love rafting and kayaking, I hope you're reading No Umbrella, a relatively new, very well written monthly paper on all things having to do with getting wet on the water in Maine.

In the September issue of No Umbrella, you'll find an article on rafting out west by veteran Maine river guide Scott Phair, a marathon trip to the Colorado River through Cataract Canyon, the San Juan River, and the Green River through the Gates of Lodore Canyon.

A few things you should know going into this, though...

I've known Scott and his brother Pete for many, many years now. And Scott, while he may not have invented 'boat drinks', has most certainly perfected the art, especially on the river. Further, Scott opens the article by describing he and his Maine river companions as "relatively sane Maine river runners."

Now Scott, I must ask, how could you make such a blatantly false statement, and mislead all those good readers?

Sane? A madman river runner like you? And your cronies? Sane?

You're killing me.

I know better. And I'm joking with you of course (well, sort of).

Anyway, back to the story. It's a good one. And leaves me very jealous and aching for a marathon raft trip to the magnificent canyons of the US west myself.

Paddle on, or should I say "hold on" with Scott and enjoy!

A photo tour of Big Bob's River-Food-Camp Fest, of which I was a willing participant, last weekend at Mollidgewock State Park in Errol, N.H.

I'm telling you, there's nothing quite like camping and paddling with 30 other fun loving people...

The ubiquitous moose sign on Route 26 near Umbagog Lake.

Mollidgewock State Park has several dozen sweet campsites right on the Androscoggin River.

The gang relaxing by the campfire. I believe they call this "happy hour."

Early morning mist on the river.

Exploring a side stream across from the campsite.

Getting 30 people onto the river is truly like herding cats.

Paddling the Class I waters of the Androscoggin right from the campsite.

Bob takes the plunge from the rope swing.

Enjoying the river.

Water lilies in bloom.

The rips at the bridge on Route 26 in Errol.

Cathy spinning through the rips in her tube.

A "group tube" having a blast in the rapids.

Mist on the river, second morning.

Bob's dog waking up.

Pontook Dam on the Androscoggin River in Milan NH.

The put in below the dam.

Paddling down river bound for the Class II rapids.

The view downstream from the bow of my much maligned "ducky" or inflatable kayak.

LL Cote's in downtown Errol, where you can buy anything you'd ever need, as long as it's blaze orange or camo.

Where else on a tremendous summer weekend but "on the river"? Thanks Bob!

Why is it that I always seem to have an awful lot of fun whenever I'm wearing my Tevas?

You too, you say?

Hmmm. We could be on to something here.

Maybe I should wear them to work more often...

This was another Teva weekend for sure.

A raftload of college kids--my awesome nice Jackie and her great friends--plenty of hot sun, perfect river temps, good rides on the waves and fun hits in the holes, a lazy float down the lower river, and generally just a damn nice Saturday on the Kennebec.

Just what the doctor ordered...

Da croo!

Hoisting the pirate flag.

A busy day on the Kennebec.

While my crew enjoys a refreshing swim...

... the guide enjoys a cold one tossed on board by a passing raft. Who's gonna say no to that?!

Riverside flora.

Osprey and nest on the lower river.

After the take-out, gathering up the gear, and breaking down camp, my crew decided they just couldn't leave The Forks without taking the big 30-foot plunge off the pedestrian bridge on Route 201 over the Kennebec River. It just seemed like the thing to do, and a very popular thing at that.

The bridge is the place to be, and jump!

Dangling feet, waiting to make the leap.

Dave and Will make the jump.

Pete and my niece Jackie take the plunge!

Splash!

Saturday night after the gang left for home I had Webb's Campground to myself for the afternoon and reveled in the quiet, sitting comfy in my camp chair on the shore of the Dead River, reading about Jack Kerouac's adventures with Zen in the mountains of California, and tilting a nicely chilled Corona with lime.

Ahhh.

Watch out for this man! He may be armed with a paddle and beer money and has been known to have too much fun!

Visions of a perfectly cooked green chili burrito with beef finally motivated me to head down the road a piece to The Marshall, but to my serious disappointment, they were out of green chili sauce.

Bummer.

But I was assured that the cook will be stirring up an extra large batch that will be ready for next weekend, when I and a dozen or so MOAC paddlers will ravenously descend on the place bent on a green chili burrito fix. They'd better come through!

Seeking a new chow plan, The Boatman's Grill at Three Rivers was the next stop. A Shipyard and a sirloin steak would have to fit the bill.

I slunk back into camp fat and happy and sat by a roaring fire content to do absolutely nothing until sundown, when my tent and sleeping bag called.

I promised myself I'd do a paddle on Sunday morning, maybe down Moxie Pond aways. Didn't happen. Instead, I chose to sleep in, then relax with coffee and book, before heading south for some biscuits and gravy at Thompson's in Bingham.

Mist on the Dead River Sunday morning.

Hey, sometimes even river guides got to take it easy...

Technology marches inexorably on. But there are limits, thank goodness. And for one of my favorite items of technology, I know right where one of its limits is.

A few miles north of Bingham on Route 201.

You see, I'm headed up to the river in a few hours. To The Forks for my favorite campsite at Webb's on the Dead River. For a cold one and some pool at the Marshall Hotel tonight. For a wild rafting trip tomorrow, guiding my niece and a group of her college friends down the Kennebec. Maybe a quiet solo paddle out on Wyman Lake or Moxie Pond on Sunday. Just me and the bald eagles.

But I digress...

Somewhere north of Bingham, my cell phone will once again sputter out one last gasp of a beep and then announce on its little screen: NO SERVICE.

Ahhh. What a damn shame.

I'll turn if off. Break out a smile and relax into the seat. I'm on the river. And I don't have to give a crap about whatever's happening south of here. For a few precious days anyway.

That's the river. An alternative universe for a river guide like me. What happens on the river, stays on the river, and all that kind of thing.

So I'm gone soon. Don't try to call, 'cause I won't be on the other end. I'll be "on the river." And loving it...

Sometimes the only place to be is "on the river" in beautiful downtown The Forks, Maine (pop. 35). For me, here's why...

1. Tradition. Summer just wouldn't be summer without Dr. Duct Tape's "Dead River Dunk."

2. Kayaking the Dead and Kennebec Rivers.

3. Rafting the Dead and Kennebec Rivers.

4. The Marshall's fabulous green chili chicken burritos on Saturday night.

5. Relaxing with good friends around the campfire at Webb's Campground.

6. Getting to dry your wet underwear over the campfire.

7. The beauty and power of 90' Moxie Falls.

8. Getting to help a friend move his outhouse at Lake Moxie.

9. Getting to wear your clown nose whenever you want.

10. Chowing down on "Mom's" world famous deviled eggs at Thompson's Restaurant in Bingham.

"What am I trying to say? The same as before--everything. Nothing more than that. Everything implied by water, motion, rivers, boats. By the flowing..."
--Edward Abbey, "Down the River"

Floating down the calm lower portion of the Kennebec River in my raft yesterday afternoon, guide stick resting across my lap, I was once again overcome by the beauty of this river. By the rocks and trees, the waves and the holes, the pools and eddies, the ospreys and moose. By the thrill of the ride through the rapids I now know by heart. By the good fortune of having my friends on board to share the experience and provide an unending stream of laughter and cheer, brightening up even a rainy day like this one.

The Kennebec River is a very special place. And fourteen years after learning how to read whitewater and paddle a raft, I have not tired of running it. Running rivers is an addiction I will likely never find a cure for.

Thank goodness.

Because I will always want to feel the knot in my stomach as we put in below the dam at Harris Station. Feel the dark walls of the Kennebec Gorge looming over me as we float into the rapids. Hear the roar of the water as we sweep down through Big Mama and Whitewasher and Big Kahuna. Feel the excitement build as we slide carefully toward the big haystack that signals the start of Magic, then smacking the diagonal wave that pushes the boat left into the hole for that famous double hit. Whoosh! Wham! Splash! The screams from the crew of paddlers, and the bug-eyed face of the occasional swimmer overboard, taking the ride of a lifetime. To revel in the cameraderie that only a small raft on a big river can bring.

It's all there... on the river. Just like Ed said.

The Kennebec River from the raft.

Above the bar at the Marshall Inn in The Forks, on the banks of the Kennebec River.

On the way to The Forks and the Kennebec and Dead Rivers for some paddling Friday afternoon, I stopped at the Williams General Store in Bingham for one of their famous hot dogs. I wasn't terribly hungry, but the thought of passing by without one was too much.

I walked up to the window and ordered from the nice woman inside, excited about being up in river country again, and possibly more so at the thought of a delicious dog, which is my most favorite food, excepting peanut butter.

As she turned back toward the grill, I queried, "And can you please toast my buns?"

She stopped dead, pivoted around and came back to the window with a big smile, and looked me up and down.

"I don't know," she said, "can you fit on the grill?"

I was momentarily tongue-tied by her response, but then we both just burst out laughing!

The conversation with Betty and her co-worker was all downhill from there. It was a fun and very interesting few minutes of chatter and laughter while my dog--a red snapper--was grilled to perfection and loaded up with the works.

And as Betty handed over my prize food, she said, "Ya know, if they paid me to be mouthy, I'd be a millionaire."

No doubt.

I took a bite and walked off chuckling. I just love it up on the river!

We're only a day away from the Dead River Dunk, an annual MOAC event 11 years running that has become a true classic weekend on my outdoors calendar.

The usual plan includes camping right on the banks of the Dead River in The Forks at Webb's Campground, and three glorious days of kayaking and rafting on the Dead and the Kennebec. And mucho fun with a great group of river rats.

But given the rainy weather we've been having (oh, you haven't noticed?) I expect there will be nothing "usual" about this year's trip at all.

The beta on current river flows from local guide Carolyn at Riverdrivers in The Forks has the Dead running anywhere from 7-8,000 cfs to more than 10,000 cfs. (That's cubic feet per second for you river rookies.) She says the Kennebec has been seeing normal flows of 4,800 cfs through the gorge, but USGS data shows considerably higher than that.

In any case, we're going to have plenty of big water, that's for certain. Especially if it keeps on raining. And it will. The levels on the Dead for our Saturday kayak trip may be a bit more than most of us are up for, but there's always the raft. We'll see.

I rafted the Dead a few years back at 15,000 cfs and it was pretty crazy. Sixteen miles of muddy brown turbulence running so big and fast that we were done in two hours. Wild!

So we're going and it will be good. Rain be damned.

Besides, I've got to get my green chili burrito fix at the Marshall Saturday night or I'll go nuts. Worse than I already am.

Can't wait to get back "on the river" this weekend.

What are your outdoor plans for this long weekend?

It's fast getting to be whitewater rafting season and I can't wait to get my raft on the river.

Over the weekend I was up in Manchester visiting with two crusty old river guide friends, brothers Pete and Scott. Of the three of us, I have the least number of years in guiding raft trips, and I've been on the river since 1992. Pete goes back at least five years before that. And Scott, well, I think he's been river guiding since God made the rivers.

So that's pretty much all we talked about. Pete's definitely itching to get in more river time this season. And I'm getting very psyched for my first trip of the year over the long Memorial Day weekend, where I hope to run the Dead twice and get on the Kennebec once. Woo-hoo!

But Scott has us both beat. He's planning the ultimate river summer. Two weeks in the Grand Canyon on the Colorado River, a week on the San Juan River, and a week on the Green and Colorado Rivers, including a run through the madness of Cataract Canyon. Six weeks out West, running the big rivers, getting a very good tan and maybe enjoying a refreshing beverage or three along the way.

Damn! No jealously here. Nope, not me.

So, of course, Scott had to show us all the cool, new gear that he's getting ready for the big trip, including a mondo-sized, multi-colored umbrella that he's going to rig to the side of the row frame (it's going to be over 100 degrees out there every day, so it'll be a much appreciated accessory to help shade the guide and keep his beer cool).

But his most prized new toy for the big trip is something that only the most seasoned river grunt would ever think about...

...a hand-crank blender!

Yes, that's right, you heard me. Blender drinks (better known as "boat drinks" on the river) are an essential part of any long river trip, as you can imagine. And Scott has tried many different blender systems over the years powered by batteries and solar panels and the like. But nothing was truly satisfactory. Until the appearance of the hand-crank blender.

In fact, Scott wrote an absolutely terrific article for No Umbrella, a new Maine paddling and adventure publication, entitled "Blending In". Click through and read it and laugh your butt off. I did. It's great. And maybe then you'll understand the critical importance of the blender, the necessity for 'boat drinks' on the river, and why river guides are just plain nuts.

And we don't want it any other way!

See you "on the river"...

Can't wait to get back "on the river" this year...

... wet!

Yes, it's getting to be paddling season for sure. Finally.

The hard core kayakers are already out there (still out there?!). And soon enough the rest of us crazy river kayakers, sea kayakers, canoeists and river rafters will be out there too.

I can barely wait. There's nothing like getting out on the water, is there?

But you can't be out there without a cool, new paddling T-shirt! My old college friend Robin makes them and they're wicked sharp. Check 'em out. I think I'll probably need one or two at least...

So are you ready to paddle? What do you have planned for trips?

It's the 39th Annual Kenduskeag Stream Canoe Race this Saturday!

There will no doubt be a few mishaps. There always are. Especially at Six Mile Falls. Whether you go just to watch, or whether you're on the river in the middle of it, there will be carnage.

It's fun to cheer the paddlers on, and hundreds do from various points along the river, especially from the bridge on Route 15 in Bangor. It's not so much fun if you're trying to maneuver your boat through the inevitable bottleneck above the big drop.

Overturned canoes, sunk canoes, kayaks with no one aboard, swimmers here, swimmers there, paddles, coolers, and debris of all kinds ends up in the pool below the falls.

But fortunately there are plenty of crack rescue folks standing by to pull the unfortunate paddlers to safety.

Make a day of it. You've just got to be there to see all the action.

Feeling up to the challenge? Get general info, a race map, race rules and guidelines, and an Official Entry Form and go for it!

It looks like a proposed bill to require whitewater rafters to wear helmets is unlikely to go anywhere.

Thank goodness.

Now, I'm sure the bill's sponsor, Rep. Ken Fletcher of Winslow, is a nice enough guy, but geez, must the folks in Augusta continually try to protect us from ourselves?

The Kennebec and Dead Rivers are deep rivers at rafting levels. There are no exposed rocks, so you don't need helmet. Wear one if you want (and many people choose to, key word: choice), but you really don't need one.

The Penobscot River is a whole different animal. Plenty of big rocks and ample opportunity to smack your head. That's why rafting companies already require everyone to wear a brain-bucket out there.

Is this starting to make sense now?

I thought so.

Besides, (and this is what I just love about this type of do-good legislation), do we really need to require rafters to wear helmets, when we don't require the same of motorcyclists on our roads.

Hey, now there's a situation that requires a helmet, don't you think?!

Now, I fall down a lot just going down the hallway to the men's room. Do I need a helmet?

If the adventurous folks up in Skowhegan get their way, Maine may get it's first urban whitewater park in the not-too-far-off future, constructed right there in downtown on the Kennebec River.

What a great idea! I'm figuring that the area's recreational boaters and hard core kayak-crazies probably think so too.

If the idea comes to fruition, and I'll bet it does knowing a few of the key players, Skowhegan will join only a few other places in the world (at least as far as I know) with an urban whitewater park, including Indiana, Canada, New Zealand, Scotland and England.

Go for it! And good luck. Let me know when I can come up and put my kayak in for a little fun!

Do you know how to do an Eskimo roll in your river kayak or sea kayak? It's a pretty important technique to know if you're going to be running the big river rapids and paddling the cold ocean. Try as I might, I still haven't gotten it down.

MOAC President "Tugeye" Dan figured it would be a heckuva an idea to do a demonstration on kayak rolling technique at last week's MOAC meeting in Portland. So, being the imaginative guy that he is, he designed and built a contraption to practice kayak rolling indoors. In theory, anyway. Leave it to Dan to engineer the world's first and only dry-rolling practice machine.

Well, he got the thing finished a few hours before the meeting, hauled it in and set it up in the meeting hall just in time. You just had to be there to see this. Wooden stocks, a big steel tube, kayak cradle, and the whole thing rotates to allow the roll (again, in theory).

Sea kayaking guru Al, clearly a very brave and daring man, came forward to test out this new dry-rolling set-up. The "crew" strapped him securely into the cockpit of the kayak and, after a brief preview of rolling principles...

Over Al went.

And over everyone in the audience went too. Bent over double and roaring with laughter. It was hilarious. I damn near peed myself.

Straps loosened, the boat slipped, and I swear the whole contraption was going to come undone and dump Al right out onto his unhelmeted head! There was muttering about "mechanical advantage" or "center of gravity" or some technical mumbo jumbo (you gotta love engineers!), as Al hung upside down with apparently little or no hope of ever turning back up.

But finally, with just a bit of assistance from the crew (well, maybe quite a bit of help!), and exhibiting superior dry-rolling technique, Al came back up and over to the cheers of the crowd, completing a semi-successful indoor Eskimo roll.

It was quite a visual experience. I can't honestly say that I learned much, but I got a helluva a good belly laugh out of it!

See if you can pick up any tips...

Thanks to photographer Becky Delaney for providing the photos!

Kayaking guru Al starts to roll, as inventor Dan looks on...

The "Dry" Roll, Phase 1.

The "Dry" Roll, Phase 2.

The "Dry" Roll, Phase 3.

The "Dry" Roll, Phase 4.

The "Dry" Roll, Phase 5.

OK, now what?

Back up and over (with help!)

A successful Eskimo roll (sort of!)

Just in case I haven't made it abundantly clear already, I LOVE WHITEWATER RAFTING! There's nothing finer than loading up my raft with good friends and guiding them down the Kennebec and Dead Rivers on a nice summer day.

Summer's long gone and so is rafting season, you say. Yes, I know, but I just got to fiddling with the digital photos (thanks to Action Photography in West Forks!) from a late June trip on the Kennebec and I wanted to share them with you.

One final glimpse of summer to last through the long winter...

Heading into Whitewasher on the Kennebec River.

Into the hole at Whitewasher...

Heading into Magic Falls

First hit...

WHAM! Standing it up at Magic!

Until next summer... In the meantime, plan ahead for your own Maine rafting adventure.

Labor Day weekend was anything but laborious. About a dozen water-loving friends and I spent the long weekend up in The Forks, running the Dead and Kennebec Rivers. We camped at the traditional camping area for boaters, Webb's Campground.

On Sunday seven of us--Lisa, Craig, Sandie, Josh, Andrew, Heidi, Carl and I--loaded up my raft and shot down the Dead River. The 5500 cfs (cubic feet per second) release provided 16 miles of near continuous excitement. Spencer Rips and Humpty Dumpty rapids in the upper river were fun, but Big Poplar Falls lower down was WILD! The wave train was huge and we hit it perfect and stayed with it right through Fry-O-Later Hole (a biggie!). Somewhere along the way we lost Craig overboard, but the fearless crew quickly pulled him back in. John, Dave and Melissa (brave souls for sure) ran the Dead in their kayaks and had an equally exciting day.

The group gathered that evening for post-river cocktails and eats down the road at the Marshall Hotel. There's a sign posted up in the rafters there that reads "Live Well. Laugh Often. Love Much." Seems the Marshall never fails to instill all those good feelings after a day "on the river." Takes me back to the rip-roaring good times of my river-guiding days of a few years back. Anyway, it was a boisterous scene of burgers, beers, jukebox music, several games of cut-throat billiards and mixing with all the other river rats. Then it was back to camp for some relaxing around a roaring fire.

Early on Monday Carl, Dave, Steph, Sara, Craig and I put the raft in at Harris Station for a run down the Kennebec River. The release was scheduled for 6000 cfs, but I don't think so. The wave trains were much bigger than that, in my opinion, so I'd say it was running about 8000. Big stuff! But oh so much fun. We got a touch fouled up coming into Big Mama and ended up running it backwards. Then we shot down the Alleyway into Whitewasher and over Big Kahuna. We rode an endless stream of BIG waves all the way to Cathedral Eddy, hooting and hollering down the gorge. Rafting as it's meant to be, boys and girls! On to Magic Falls... we hit the hole just a hair to the right but still got slammed hard. But not as hard the hit we took just below at Hell Hole (I normally try to skirt it, but today, ah well, what the hell). Craig got shot out of the front of the raft, while I got thrown hard to the floor. We fished our swimmer out in a flash and continued floating on...

Go Craig: 2 days + 2 dunks = 2 much fun! Makes going back to work on Tuesday look mighty dull I'm afraid.

It was all-river-all-the-time this past weekend. Well, actually, there was also an enormous amount of good food, a huge bonfire, and a rather large gathering of very fun people. A dangerous combination for sure, but somehow we managed.

This was Big Bob's annual MOAC Errol NH paddling weekend. And it was a outstanding time! We camped out for 2 nights at Mollidgewock State Park just outside of Errol, right on the banks of the Androscoggin River. There were 35 of us, so it was quite a scene.

We paddled the Androscoggin on Saturday right from the campground. It was 10 miles of easy Class I-II water. In the afternoon we played in the Errol Rips near the junction of Routes 16 and 26. Some folks tubed it, while I duckied it. Dave kayaked it and ended up cracking his helmet on a rock during a roll that went bad! On Sunday we put in downriver at the Pontook Dam and paddled 6-8 miles of fun Class 2 water. In all, it was a fine weekend with good friends. Damn, I just hate when that happens!