The Narrative Image

Kip showed up at the bar with a detailed river-keepers' map and guide-books that explicated his proposed route down the Willamette River . He had performed a careful analysis of the water route, marking potential launch sites, sensible campsites, and devising preliminary outlines for shuttling the boats. He had even spaced the campsites apart according to his estimates about river velocity based on seasonal water volumes and the river gradient, and also which sections of river would require extra time for thorough fishing. It was almost as if he was some kind of project manager. But as the early July launch-date approached, it became clearer and clearer via meteorologists that the trip would test our resilience to rain—lots of it. Though  I often imagine myself to be a daring and self-sufficient outdoorsman (and by often I mean whenever I spend several hours at a bar), the fact is that so far, my camping experiences in the rain have been accidental, infrequent and generall...

I can count the times I've encountered towering waves that broke over the deck of my kayak on one hand (probably with fingers to spare). There was that time on the Columbia when Fred capsized at its confluence with the Deschutes (for one). And then there was that time I made my exodus from Long Island into something of a wind tunnel on the east side of Willapa Bay . In both cases my 12.5 foot Tsunami was as stable as an ocean liner, giving me an opportunity to adapt to new conditions without a punitive preliminary dunking. The Tsunami 125 has been a patient, forgiving tutor. However, while one is actually in it, its two storage hatches are inaccessible, so things you might want (like cameras) are either in the cockpit with you, or lashed to the deck. Do you need to change lenses in the middle of the river? Not unless you like to juggle delicate equipment over the abyss of no return. What if you also want to learn how to fish? Now you have to figure out how to p...