I paddled the Seymour, and all I have to show for it is a wet tee shirt

A record number of people had signed up for the clinic, so we got off to a slow start. Eventually all canoes were in the water (what there was of it) and split into groups, and I was in a canoe on a for-real river for the first time in my life.

Thank goodness Nola was there, too. For some reason, I think it's just one of those things, I understood only about a quarter of the instructions from our group leader when she went over each technique-- forward ferry, back ferry, S-turn, and such. It made a lot more sense when we were actually doing it, and Nola called the strokes.

Last event of the day had us practising rescues, using throw ropes and floating, presumably capsized, canoeists. We trundled off farther downstream of where we'd been all day, to where a small rapid roiled, and most everyone gathered farther down in a calmer space on the bank. As the dumper of the moment shot down the chute and toward this group, five or six would fling throw ropes out and haul him or her in.

Just as everyone was supposed to have a turn at the rope, everyone was also supposed to take a turn swimming the rapid, so we'd all have an idea of what it was like. I decided to do the swim early and get it over with, as I don't much like swimming.

I should mention at this point that I don't have a wet suit, or a dry suit. Fleece pants, neoprene booties and gloves, old silk tee shirt, PFD. The man directing the swimmers lent me his helmet and showed me where I should sit down, reminded me to keep my toes up, and to hang on to my paddle.

The current was much faster than what we'd been on all day, and the water colder. Lots colder. I shot forward and began bouncing off rocks. I had gone in the space of two seconds from pleasantly warm to very, very cold and getting colder. And I was not at all comfortable with my speed.

The rest is pretty confused in my mind. What I remember doesn't quite mesh with what the people on the bank saw. They said I kept trying to stand up, while what I remember was trying to stop behind the rocks. I think the force of the water was 'standing' me and then I'd flip or spin. The effect was the same-- I was out of position and out of what little control I might have had. The times I tried to do something useful with my paddle I apparently did the wrong things, as each time I flipped over onto my stomach and then had to get right side up again. While hyperventilating.

Lost my paddle on the third rollover. I think. I was too cold by then to do anything on my own, much less to do only those things I had been told to do, and I couldn't even hang on to the damn paddle. I hadn't got but halfway and some kind folks had come up with a throw rope and got me out early. They even rescued my paddle. I got dry clothes out of my stuff, swapped the emergency toque for mine and warmed back up to tolerable. Shortly after the clinic broke up and we headed in.

I'm all over bruises and sore muscles, which I expected, and I've learned some things about where to draw the line. I'm wasn't competent to take a canoe down that rapid. Why did I think it would be okay to go down without one? Because other people thought so is not a good reason. I should know better than that. So maybe I've saved myself a worse knockabout.