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Do You Know Pain?

30/7/2019

Everybody knows about phantom pain. I’ve heard about it on the tele. I’ve read about it in magazines and newspapers. I knew about phantom pain. I was wrong.

First example - I love my family dearly, but why won't they stop sitting on my foot? Time and time again, they visit me in hospital and they sit on my foot. Bags, cameras, groceries, medication; everybody keeps putting things on my foot. Only, they're not. They are putting things in the space where my foot used to be; the handy quarter of a hospital bed which has now been freed up and serves as a one-stop storage solution in a cramped hospital ward. My foot has spent its preceding eight years agonisingly hypersensitive to even the slightest touch or breath of wind. People need to stop sitting on my foot.

Even the cat is mugging me off

Second example - I'm waiting for the green man. We're off to town, escaping the rank smells and frantic sounds of the hospital ward and catching a tiny glimpse of the liberation to come. I'm in my wheelchair with my leg elevated, waiting. Smash. A lorry has thundered past, tearing my foot and shin away from my knee. Blood everywhere. A traumatic amputation. The helecopter will arrive soon, only it won't, because there is no foot and the lorry has carried on its journey as if nothing has happened. No blood, no screaming, no dramas. As you were. The shiny green man is shining and the beeper is beeping. Cross the road.

Final example - It’s wet outside. Not just that ordinary wet that seems to frequent us most days in Britain, but that special kind of Biblical wet which makes us wonder if anything will ever be dry again. The wet saturates everything - clothes, bags, socks. I change my sock for a dry one, only the cold, wet, sticky sock on my brain’s imaginary right foot remains. All day long, the wet sock remains.

Such is the beautiful plasticity of the brain however, that my sense of footedness, my fear of crossing-points and my wet sock feeling will fade. Meanwhile, my phantom pains, specific and real as they are, will quietly being to repay their debt, for my brain will not perceive its new leg as being ‘prosthetic’. Do not pity me. For the first time in 8 years, I have a right leg. These fierce sensations will find a home in their new leg where they will seek liberation.

I know pain. I know gain.

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I Closed My Eyes. I Slept.

6/6/2019

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Through all of my fears of a psychological backlash against losing a leg, it was easily forgotten that my loss and grief had already happened.

As I came round from surgery, I checked that it had finally gone. An enormous and surprising sense of relief, gratitude, hope and excitement, flooded through my body when I saw the space where my foot used to be.

Nine months of mental preparation. Nine months of waiting for the postman to casually drop my date through the door. Nine months of prehab training. Nine months on the surgical waiting list. It was finally done.

I closed my eyes. I slept.

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This Was My Foot

28/5/2019

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This was my foot.

It might have only been one single bacterium, poised for the chance to colonise. He might have waited his whole life, limited as it might be, waiting for the moment that I stood on broken glass in my own kitchen. His chance to breed, colonise, invade my skin, muscles, tendons, blood, body. Sepsis.

Having spent its first 20 years of life growing up, running, jumping, hiking and climbing, my foot spent its next 8 years at the centre of an internal struggle, unbeknown to many. Savagely painful and deformed by infection, it remained hidden behind a smile and a laugh. It was this cloak of joy perhaps, which made it so hard for some people to understand my decision.

'It's time to bin it off.'

I was surprised to find such peace and familiarity in my decision, once made. The restless nights and tears and grief-filled chats with friends now suddenly felt resolved. The decision which once felt insurmountable, now felt as easy as any other - Should I leave the house today? Should I wear pants today? Should I eat Nutella out of the jar today?

And so it began.

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Boofing for Beginners

29/10/2017

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When I first started kayaking no one ever told me about ‘the boof’ and I just plugged my merry way down anything. It was a few months before I realised that everyone else seemed to stay drier than I did and they never had as much fun with unexpected down-river freestlye. After consulting Dr Google and watching numerous Youtube videos, I was confident that the boof was my answer to stylish kayaking and that I would be paddling with the pros in no time.

Sadly, the reality of learning to boof was somewhat harder than my optimistic imagination was suggesting. Many experiments with misguided advice and numerous back-loops later, I thought it might be useful to share some of the tips that I have picked up along the way.

Boofing is the act of keeping the bow raised out of the water to land flat from a drop or to stay on the surface through a hole to maintain speed and control.

Notice the small kicker in the centre of the drop which can be used to kick the bow upwards.

Read the Water

Boofing is all about raising your bow to keep your boat flat so look for river features that might help you. Perhaps there are obvious rocks or large-scale features which you can ride up to carry you across the back of the hole, but often it might be just a subtle curling wave which helps to raise the bow.

Point the Wrong Way

If there is nothing particular to aim for, then often you are committed to boofing the guts of the hole. Rather than pointing dead downstream, it can be helpful to direct your boat on a diagonal slightly towards the same side that you plan to boof off. This will allow for core rotation to bring the boat pointing back downstream out the back of the hole.

Edge and Reach

As you approach the hole, spot the piece of water that you plan to plant your blade into, reach for it and edge. You should have your blade nice and far forwards at this point. By edging your boat towards the side that your blade is on, you effectively have a smaller surface area of boat in contact with the water, which will make it less sticky when you come to launch your boof.

Reach forward, edge and hold it.

Hold It

Be as patient as you can be at this stage. There is always the temptation to get an extra paddle stroke in before the lip of the drop, but you risk missing your boof and ruining your body position. Hold the set-up and wait for the spot that you have picked.

Execution and Posture

When you have hit that spot that you aimed for, dig the blade deep and imagine that you are thrusting your boat past that point by bringing the boat level again. As you do this, play around with what your feet are doing. Some people find that a big push with the same foot as the blade is engaged on will help to drive the bow upwards and bring the boat level and straight downstream again. Once you have kicked the bow up, remember to engage your core by pulling your knees upwards and your upper body forwards.

Keep your face clear of the boat!

On a larger drop, take the time to smile for the camera and enjoy the free-fall. Remember to keep your elbows and face well clear of your boat for landing and consider a stomp to protect your back!

The key with any new skill is practice. This doesn’t mean that you have to be firing up big drops all the time. Play around at your local whitewater centre by boofing some non-consequential holes. As you practice, it’s important to remember with boofing that everyone is different. Don’t get disheartened just because something that works for someone else doesn’t work for you. People who try and tell you ‘the way to boof’ are wrong because different things work for different people.

I should probably also share my realisation that boofing is not the key to Pandora’s kayaking box that I had imagined. Yes, it helps you to look good in photos, but you can still take an absolute kicking when you boof into a bad place!

Anyway, get out there and find your boof. If at first you don’t succeed try, try and take a kicking again!

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Mojo... Lost and Found

10/8/2017

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To Austin Powers, mojo was not simply the essence of his libido; it was his raison d’être. When his mojo was stolen, not only did he despair at having to turn down the advances of Felicity Shagwell through fears of his own impotence, he also experienced something of a crisis of confidence in his own skill and ability to defeat Dr. Evil and inevitably save the world.

Rekindling mojo on Norwegian stouts

It came as a great shock to me this December when I suddenly felt like I had lost my mojo. I am not suggesting that I was in any way trying to save the world, or indeed that I became impotent (if such a thing is indeed even possible as a female), I simply seemed to lose my ability to roll.

People told me that it was a ‘head game’ and that if I was to find my mojo again then I needed to stop believing that I had ever lost it, but the evidence was insurmountable; my roll had completely deserted me. My once totally bombproof roll, simply didn’t work. I wasn’t panicking or rushing, I wasn’t afraid of being underwater, I couldn’t think of anything huge that had really changed, it was just gone.

I must admit that I was somewhat surprised by the knock-on impacts on my headspace. My overactive imagination suggested some unusual outcomes:

No roll = No confidence = No kayaking =
No partying + No friends + No release
= No purpose in life

Although I knew that this was irrational, it was clear that I needed to sort my roll out, so I took the only sensible course of action; I asked Facebook for help! It was heart-warming for me to receive so many messages of reassurance from kayakers, even the big deals, who have experienced exactly the same situation. I was however saddened to hear that so many people get their knickers in a twist about things without knowing what to do next, so I have thrown together a few of the tips from friends and family that I found particularly useful.

1. Talk about it

One of my friends explained how the biggest barrier he faced whilst trying to find his roll again, was his concern over what his friends would think. He kept it quiet and worked on things alone. To paraphrase Pink Floyd (badly), our ability to talk is what separates us from the animals; it is by showing our weakness that we can save ourselves from a metaphorical drowning. Your friends will be your greatest allies when you’re rebuilding confidence and if they’re not, find new ones.

2. Take it back to basics

Think about how you learnt to roll and strip things back again. For me, this meant going to some pool sessions so that I could get some consequence-free practice in. I even went as far as wearing goggles and a nose clip to make sure that I was totally comfortable underwater and had all the time in the world to consider set-up and execution. Relax your body, hands and set-up to let your blade find the surface of the water, rather than fixing its angle with a solid grip. If there are no consequences, you can slow things down fully to make your roll solid again.

3. Find a great coach

This can be tough but take the time to get it right, it probably matters the most. Avoid the people telling you that it’s a head game. Perhaps they’re right but it doesn’t help you to sort things out. Avoid the people telling you things like, ‘you’re brining your head up too soon’, or, ‘you’re leaning too far back’. Again, they are quite right, but these are most often symptoms of a weak roll, rather than being the underlying cause. A good coach will sit and watch. They will make recommendations for the slightest tweaks to your set-up and technique and could also help you to adjust your outfitting or equipment. These slight changes might just make an enormous difference.

4. Build confidence

Once you have found your roll again, it’s time to make it bombproof and there is only one way. A bombproof roll is no different to any other roll, it is simply one that has worked hard for you and has pulled its weight in sticky situations. Get out there on some cold flat water, easy and then harder white water and roll like a trooper. If you’re going to artificial courses, make sure you mess around with mates doing boater x and such like to make capsizing and rolling feel natural again. Remind yourself that you can do it. Rekindle the feeling that a capsize is not a problem; when you roll before you think. That’s when you know that you’ve found your mojo again.

If you try the tips above and have no luck, go back to step one and see what else your mates have up their sleeves. If all else fails, remember that in spite of losing his mojo, Austin Powers was still able to divert Dr. Evil’s laser and saved the world. A roll isn’t everything, just stay upright more.

If you’ve never seen an Austin Power’s film, make that step one instead!

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Is Bigger Better?

3/4/2017

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There has never been a general consensus on this one. Opinions have long been divided. Some are firm believers that ‘bigger is better’, whilst others argue that ‘it’s not the size that counts, but what you do with it that matters’. Personally, I had always held the latter belief, and whilst my weight often places me on the boundary of suitability for both small and medium boats, I had always opted for a smaller boat on the grounds that my muscles aren’t enormously impressive and I don’t drink protein shakes.

It was a smaller boat, the Recon 70, that I fell in love with after all. Whilst few would regard the Recon as being ‘small’, the 70 is certainly a small boat for my weight and for the chunky style of white water that it enjoys the most. Regardless of its size, I fell in love with the boat whilst falling off waterfalls in Chile and felt compelled to continue my love affair and buy one in the UK.

Sure enough, the Recon continued to perform both home and abroad.

Rio Fuy, Chile. Photo - Segio Vidal.

More recently, having added a Diesel 70 to my fleet, the Recon 70 began to lose its place in my heart and felt pretty large on low-volume, technical runs, but fairly small for big volume, scary white water, especially when loaded with expedition kit.

Indus, India. Photo - Stanzin Tanfan.

The release of Wave Sport’s new colours for 2017, and some encouragement from friend, was the final push that I needed to take the plunge. A big, pink boat was the way forward.

Only two weeks in and I wish that I had had the confidence to take the plunge sooner. My relationship with the big, pink Recon 83 is going from strength-to-strength. My fears of lacking the strength to control him were totally unfounded as he tracks a dream and I haven’t even had to pile on the protein. It helps that he is the same weight as my Recon 70 was, in spite of being larger, as the manufacturing of Wave Sports has changed since moving to the UK. A wider boat also means great stability and a longer boat means more rocker, so you really do have to get things spectacularly wrong to miss a boof. The greatest difference however is in my confidence; the Recon 83 feels like he is caring for me and wants me to get things right. He is a boat that breeds success.

Afon Mellte, Wales. Photo - James Goodwin.

River Dart, England. Photo - Mark Hurrell and Pip Spicer

Afon Mellte, Wales. Photo - Oli Kershaw.

So although the general public can’t seem to reach a consensus on whether or not bigger is better, I know my choice.

Roll on summer boating.

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Kayaking The Grand Canyon Of Asia - Multiday Adventures In Ladakh, India

11/8/2016

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An opportunity that I had completely ruled out on grounds of my mobility problems - my first ever multiday expedition. Daz Clarkson-King from Pure Land Expeditions had proclaimed that it would be life changing. I'm only just back in the UK but it already feels like he might have been right.

My fears of travelling alone with my mobility problems were fortunately completely unfounded as I was whisked through London Heathrow, Abu Dhabi and Delhi airports at top speed in a wheelchair, holding my head low in embarrassment as I was pushed to the front of every queue.

Expedition packing in the hotel in Leh

Much morphine on the plane journey causing suppressed breathing, combined with the effects of arriving at 3500m above sea level in Leh, Ladakh and the absence of my luggage which was on a holiday of its own somewhere in the Middle East, led to a fairly bewildering first couple of days. I thought I was fairly fit before arriving in Leh but still found myself having to focus on not passing out from the thin air. Once rested and acclimatised however, I was ready to go and excited at the prospect of beginning my expedition.

The drive from Leh to the put-on of the Tsarap Chu river was far from your usual shuttle. The mountain passes reach over half the height of Everest with Himalayan views of cloud-shrouded mountains to take your breath away. I enjoyed my highest ever 'loo with a view' which also took my breath away from the excessively thin air. I think it was the first time I have ever been out of breath from going for a wee!

As we descended the other side of the mountain pass, the nomad tents came into view. These remote Himalayan yurts would be our most spectacular home for the night.

The following morning was time for action. With boats packed like tanks for a luxury expedition - rice, dhal, spices, popcorn and more - we drove to the put-on and the expedition began.

The put-on for the Tsarap Chu

First impressions of the Tsarap did not disappoint. A series of beautiful box canyons with intimidating horizon lines which at first seemed like the gates to hell but funnelled down into wonderfully clean rapids and brought us to our first camp and then down into the lake.

Camp 1

From here, the Tsarap's character changed dramatically as the gradient flattened, the water slowed to a stand-still and the thick soup of sediment settled to the bottom of the lake to reveal azure blue waters and a hair wash opportunity.

It wasn't long after finding our flat water paddling rhythm that the roar of the landslide rapid which formed the lake could be heard echoing through the canyon. Here, the river changed character again, maintaining its azure blue waters but steeply twisting and turning between the boulders of the landslide in a beautifully long and committing rapid, perfect to trigger the adrenal glands after the long flat waters of the lake.

A hard day of paddling was rewarded with an experience only offered to those with something about them - some kind of grit and resilience. We camped on the beach below Phuktal monastery, a remote Himalayan community of monks accessible by a 14 day hike or a multiday kayak expedition. A warm welcome from the little 'monkies' felt like the perfect end to a most incredible day of beauty and thrilling whitewater.

As the sun rose over the mountains the following morning and baked us out of our sleeping bags, we felt revived and ready for the steep climb up to the monastery.

Camp 2

With a fair amount of puffing and panting, two worn out crutch-ends and some impressively knotted muscles, we made it all the way to the top. Perched on the side of the mountain, watching over the monks with the Tsarap meandering into the distance was an experience that will stay with me forever. No lazy people will ever get to see that same view in person; it is reserved for those who are willing to struggle.

A short day of paddling followed but we were all glad of its brevity as the Tsarap changed its style once again. Gone were the tight box canyons with intervening sections of fast-flowing flat water and Reru Falls opened up before us - a long, committing, big volume rapid that thoroughly tested my big water roll and my altitude lungs.

A perfectly flat expanse of river beach at the end of the rapid was a welcome relief and an idilic camp spot.

Camp 3

The following day, from waves to holes, the Tsarap changed again with more defined lines but a glorious continuity of whitewater through Bastard Bastard rapid and in to Padum town. Our arrival in town felt somehow bitter sweet with the prospect of a shower, deliciously sticky walnut cake, a bed and excessive amounts of food very much welcome, yet a night with a roof over our heads meant missing the night sky, shooting stars and sunrise over the mountains.

Arrival at Panum

Next size up?

Shopping for nail clippers

Fully revived, we set off the following morning excited by the prospect of another night under the stars. The confluence of the Tsrarp and the Zanskar rivers felt truly special with the volume increasing and the walls of the world-renowned Zanskar gorge, the Grand Canyon of Asia, closing in.

Camp 5

Whilst the Zanskar provides great interest and continuity in its rapids, any merits of the following two days of whitewater were far exceeded by the infinite beauty and history of the canyon. Purple and green copper sheer vertical walls with a supremely complex system of faults and folds seemed perfectly preserved from the collision of the Indian subcontinent and the formation of the Himalayas millions of years beforehand.

The waterfall at our lunch spot on the fifth day was particularly special.

The human history of the Zanskar is just as astonishing as its physical landscape. Blackened caves high in the sides of the canyon showed evidence of the resilient communities living and working in such a seemingly barren landscape, people who use the Zanskar River as a kind of frozen highway in winter. Families for whom a multiday expedition at -40 degrees Celsius is just an accepted part of life and culture, a commute to work, school and market, not a sport.

The opening out of the Zaskar canyon yielded several more big volume and playful rapids before its confluence with the mighty Indus. Whilst our time on the Indus was relatively short, it felt humbling to paddle on one of the world's great rivers - a river that helped to shape the continent, gave life to the earliest of Indian civilisations, continues to support life in the high altitude desert today and indeed gave India its name.

Our camp on the Indus signalled the end of our expedition - 240km, 6 days and about 1km of gradient completed - but the start of several more days of thrilling big volume paddling on the Indus and the Zanskar rivers, and of course several days of luxury living, re-living good flow memories and telling paddling tales.

Vomit comet on the lower Indus

It is with great regret that I had to leave Ladakh and return to life as usual in the UK but I am not sad for I know that I will return and I look forward to sharing this special place with friends and family

View over Leh from Shanti Stupa

As it turns out, Daz was right about everything: I can do a multiday in spite of my disability and my trip to Ladakh was 'life changing' in so many more ways than I might have ever expected: I am officially addicted to multidays, I am now a vegetarian, I have given up alcohol at least for the time being, I can be alone with my own thoughts and my meditation becomes deeper every day, I would choose a night of stars over a night under a roof and a space on the floor over a chair anytime.

More significant than any of those unexpected eventualities though is the fact that my first multiday expedition has chipped away another layer of disability for me. Daz and Pure Land Expeditions never saw my disability as a barrier to my adventures in India but I certainly did. I know now that I am more capable of exploration than I would ever have given myself credit for and I cannot thank Pure Land enough for opening my eyes to this and facilitating my adventures. I leave Ladakh with a strong sense that the things in my life which are most worth doing will also probably be the hardest; that's part of what makes them great; It's part of life's adventure.

Enormous thanks are due to my sponsors, Wave Sport, Canoe and Kayak Store and Paddlers First for their continued support.

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Alpine Antics

22/7/2016

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Fond memories of a glorious week of alpine classics...

Onde, Briancon Gorge, Chateau Queyras, Middle Guil, Gyronde, Durance, and Ubaye.

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Why do we kayak? For the same reasons that murderers murder

5/6/2016

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It often takes a break for injury, some kind of punctuation, for us to stop and really consider the risks that we take as kayakers: the time that we use, the money spent, the injuries, the family time missed, the seeming selfishness of it all. You think and think as friends and family question your motivations, and whilst you know in your heart of hearts that you need to kayak, you can never really explain your actions fully in way that actually helps people to understand.

Facial injuries are particularly hard to explain!

Many have written about the freedom of kayaking, the adventure, the adrenaline, and the camaraderie. I present an argument however, which draws all of these elements together - perhaps kayaking is simply all about having your fundamental human needs satisfied.

Maslow (1943) theorised that there are six fundamental human needs that everyone has in common, and that human behaviour is simply a series of attempts to meet those fundamental needs. At the base of Maslow’s hierarchy lies the basic physiological needs such as breathing, eating and sex. People will do anything to meet these basic needs, and must do so before they are able to meet needs higher up the hierarchy, such as the need for safety, love and belonging, esteem, creativity, spontaneity and acceptance of reality amongst other things.

A representation of Maslow's hierarchy of needs by Factoryjoe (see references below)

It seems that in Maslow’s world, a kayaker shares the same motivations as an alcoholic, a drug addict, a businessman, a Buddhist monk, and a murderer – our behaviour. The risk taking, the time, the expense, the perceived selfishness, whatever it might be is simply an attempt to meet our needs. Whilst it seems unlikely that we need kayaking to access the first rung of the ladder – physiological needs such as eating, breathing and sleeping, it is perhaps more realistic that kayaking allows us to access the top levels of the hierarchy:

We feel love and belonging from building intimate friendships, perhaps even depending upon each other to meet the more basic need for safety and security;

We develop self-esteem from pride in our unique individual achievements and growing confidence in our capabilities;

Kayaking even fosters our creativity, developing opportunities for spontaneity.

Perhaps kayaking presents an opportunity to meet most of our fundamental human needs in one fell swoop, and does in fact therefore present a very efficient use of time and money.

Maslow’s theory has been criticised for over-simplifying the complexity of human needs and social connections (Denning, 2012). In spite of this, his ideas have stood the test of time and are still popular in the fields of management, marketing, and education to name but a few. For me, there remains something attractive in his theory's simplicity. Perhaps we are inherently less complex and individual than we would like people to believe - as kayakers we are not unique, we are not doing anything ground-breaking or paradigm-shifting, we are simply another group of people doing what they need to do to meet their needs. Maybe kayaking and some other behaviours (possibly not murder) even add a fifth level to the hierarchy. Kayaking might even presents opportunities to meet needs which are less quantifiable and beyond egotistical desires - a sort of deep and profound 'okayness' with the world.

With this in mind, it becomes easy to justify your behaviours to yourself and indeed to your friends and family should you feel that way inclined.

"I kayak because I need to... so there!"

References
Denning, A. H. (2012) What Maslow Missed. Available at: http://www.forbes.com/sites/stevedenning/2012/03/29/what-maslow-missed/#29fa42c6455a [cited 28 March 2016].
Factoryjoe (Own work) [CC BY-SA 3.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0) or GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html)], via Wikimedia Commons
Maslow, A (1943) A Theory of Human Motivation. Psychological Review, 50(4), pp. 370-396.

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Smiles All Round

2/5/2016

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Canoe and Kayak Store, opened their door,
And started an event;
Ronnie's dream: to gather his team,
And party with intent.

The fair breeze blew, the white foam flew,
The paddlers began to rise;
'Though they were tired, they felt inspired,
With eyes upon the prize.

The team appeared all chilly eared,
But OzDz brought salvation;
Her wooly hats for river rats,
Were perfect for the occasion.

The trades came in, to help them win;
Wave Sport, Palm and more;
They were set up to help build-up,
Excitement on the shore.

The first event to cause a dent,
In prides and boats combined;
The boater-cross, a shared ethos,
Of matter over mind.

Next the freestyle brought a smile,
To boaters and their crowd;
Loops and twirls from boys and girls,
Left Ronnie feeling proud.

He saw his dream was being seen,
Before his very eyes;
The real win was clear to him,
Smiles all round - his prize.