He’s a Beast…
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…or he is an Olympic level beast. There is that 3rd option.
A Beast is a Beast…
Nah, give me a high back seat padded and trimmed appropriately at my preferred angle and there aren’t many things I’d rather be doing
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That’s the primary reason I bought the 175 Tsunami (24 inch wide) over a Zephyr (23 inches wide) - the high seat back vs. the back band. I had back issues when I started kayaking but not so much anymore (unless I start using a back band and risk recurring back issues).
I don’t race, so pure speed isn’t critical to me but comfort and efficiency of motion is. I’m just happy going as fast as conditions allow. Conditions are rarely perfect, but when they’re favorable, it’s a tough decision to decide when to turn around. That is when it’s fortunate to have a paddle that doesn’t detract from the experience.
Overall weight and swing weight are not abstract or mysterious concepts. Add up the ounces when comparing a 23 oz and a 31 oz paddle, then factor in the weight of your arms, as well as overcoming the start/stop of the static/swing momentum and overall weight. Consider how the weight balances or how it enables you to place the blade in the exact spot for a clean catch. Add 4 ounces to each blade tip and see how that feels.
If your trips are limited to 5 miles, maybe your paddle is limiting your desire to continue. If you have two hours to paddle, you can either go 3 miles out and back, or 5 miles. That’s the choice you make. After all, speed isn’t everything if you have all the time at your disposal.
My seat and gear for 61 consecutive hours last summer in Texas. When I get the comfort dialed in, I can go almost forever. It’s remarkable how many things in this pic went unused even though I’m not sure I’d spare any of it
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61 consecutive hours as in, consecutive hours?
I can’t do canoes for long. I bought a Mad River Adventure with adjustable seat backs, but it’s more comfortable with my legs straight out in the kayak. The longest I’ve been in a kayak without getting out was 7 hrs 30 min, and 8 hrs 20 min with one 10 minute break.
Yes consecutive hours as in non stop(other than to heed natures call)
Here’s what one looks like after an ordeal like that
In my hull I’m usually 80% of hull speed at 3 miles or longer. As a rule of thumb I use 80% of hull speed it’s a close enough benchmark for me and a good estimate and tends to be realistic in very windy conditions.
For racing last year I wound up running at 89% of hull speed. in my Tempest 180 Pro. my Goal is 6 mph in that hull, which still is not at hull speed. but it’s only a 0.2 mph increase I looking for over last years numbers. (of course that not to say I’ll be disappointed if I only manage 5.9 mph)
The 7.99 was to be clear not in a touring hull, it was in a very specialized hull a friend of mine has, but I figure I’m capable of pushing it at almost 8 mph, I should be able to get a touring hull close to its hull speed over three miles.
on the 10 mile races I see the Surf-Ski guys finish in 1:17 so they’re pushing 8 mph. 1’st kayak was in in 1:41 @ 5.7 mph
@DaveTheKayaker Not Olympic level, but Olympic level in knuckle dragging old fart Sasquatch category.
@darkstar I have a canoe, but just recently have found I I’m having trouble sitting with my knee bent, and kneeling is nigh impossible. so I think I may put my canoe up for sale or break down and get the full knee replacement surgery and keep the canoe.
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You people with the “ full knee replacement” talking about it like it is a walk in the park. That has got to be tough to recover from, @tdaniel talking about having already done I believe 2 hip replacements and going to do 2 knee replacements…Uncle Enough.
I am a little in the dark here ( no pun intended), and this is part of what, some kind of endurance race?
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Texas Water Safari 260 miles on San Marcos and Guadalupe Rivers, and finishes up with a 5 mile bay crossing in the Gulf(that we did in the dark) in Seadrift Texas
Well @darkstar , tell us about the race. I see that there are classes, what boats are competitive in the classes, what kind of boats are the overall winners, are there 6 man and 8 man Coopers in the race, how many entries are there and the most important question, are ya’ll nuts?
Way back, in June of 2009, I was given a copy of Canoe and Kayak magazine with an article highlighting one teams experience in a canoe race known as the Texas Water Safari, boldly boasted as the worlds’ “Toughest Canoe Race.” My good friend and longtime paddling partner, Alex, said something to the effect of “here’s one that might interest you” as he handed it to me. “No thanks!” was my near immediate reply. Looking at the pictures of 40 plus foot 6 person canoes being lowered over dams and others shooting through rapids with rocks that would shred the precious carbon and Kevlar models we use here in the northeast, I quickly dismissed this as nothing I’d ever need to do. No, thanks, indeed….
Gradually, as the years went by, and without much more thought of a canoe race in Texas at the time, I’d amassed myself a relatively modest resume of distance paddling races of my own, the Yukon River Quest, Yukon 1000, AuSable Canoe Marathon, Englands’ Devizes to Westminster, to name a few. Each one of them had its own character, its own claim to fame, but none ever claimed to challenge the “Toughest Canoe Race in the World” designation boldly self-applied by the Texans. This now intrigued me just a bit; after all, how could a 260-mile race bill itself that way over a 500- or 1000-mile race through the Yukon wilderness? Impossible it seemed that it could be more difficult….
Fast forward through a few years of steady contemplation of this “toughness claim” and I could no longer avoid finding out for myself whether this bold statement had any merit, or not. There was only one way to find out… Thus began a several year process of finding the right team, as well as timing, to ensure adequate preparation and time off. My long-time paddling partner, Ed and I figured that a C4 team may be the best way, providing the right balance between horsepower alongside camaraderie and efficiency on the water. Almost exclusively it was advised by those that know that we have at least one person on our team who was experienced on the course and would know the river. We ignored this advice after consideration, opting to go for a team we were comfortable with as well as avoiding the difficult logistics of training with someone who would likely be thousands of miles away. We had a very short list of others to ask but didn’t have to look any farther down the list as our first choices surprisingly jumped at the opportunity. With Deb and Kevin on board, being long-time members of our paddling community and NY residents, we felt we had a good balanced team that were all willing to jump on this challenge. We were fortunate to also get Rich and Teresa as pit support, not only very experienced paddlers but also very experienced as Pit Crew, having worked together pitting for the AuSable Canoe Marathon. We have all spent a good deal of time on the water together. They would prove to be an invaluable asset to our success.
After a long spring of independent training as well as a few races together we all arrived in Texas over a week before the race. This ensured us a good bit of time to get to know our rented Texas C4 as well as explore some of the trickier portions of the course. A narrow but very sturdy, well reinforced carbon boat seemed to fit the bill perfectly. With some expert local advice in hand, we opted to do the first 50 miles or so, plus a bit of the downriver portions we would likely encounter at night as well as trying out the boats spray skirts in the massive waves that the gulf bay crossing could throw at us. This also gave us a good deal of time just to acclimate to the temperatures which would be close to 100 during the daytime for the duration of the race. The upper river is characterized by rapids, dams, twisty hairpin turns and tight channels, sometimes squeaking thorough single file openings. We practiced a few of these several times to get them right. The lower river widens out a bit as it takes on volume and heads toward the Gulf. Poisonous snakes and spiders seemed to be frequent wildlife concerns, but we also encountered entire herds of cattle in the river, bringing things to a grinding halt. Alligators and giant Gar made for interesting viewing further down and we had several fish jump into the boat during our race.
Our well-seasoned pit captains and some family arrived on Thursday before the race so we could review logistics with them and get organized. Pit support can provide hydration, nutrition as well as medical attention but nothing else. Over the course of 260 miles and through sweltering heat, this would prove to be quite an undertaking just to keep us supplied with fluids. Gear sorted, checklists completed, and pit plans mapped out, we hit the start line ready for a 9 am start on Saturday, June 8th. Fortunately, being an out of state team that signed up early, we were afforded a spot in the 2nd row of the starting line. This would give us the best chance to get into the first portage, a mere half mile into the race, before any long lines formed. My understanding is that you could be waiting many minutes at that portage to get through.
Nerves racing, we got off the starting line fast and were able to get through the first portage without an issue, although canoeing seems to be a contact sport here in Texas! 3 clear spots to exit the boat but only one spot to get back in made for some early excitement! Another mile or so downstream is the Rio Vista Dam, a spectator hotspot. Not quite the thousands at the start of AuSable, but it was close. This section is characterized by 3 sets of rapids that can wreak all kinds of havoc on teams, many capsizing or swimming their boats through the rapids. Not wanting to risk a yard sale capsize so early in the race, we opted to carry the first 2 rapids and then hit the 3rd. This was a flawless move as we made it through perfectly, although I was hit by a boat in the ribs here at some point that would bother me for the rest of the race and for over a week afterward. I could feel its reminder with every left sided paddle stroke I made.
After another dam portage a short distance downstream, we settled into a rhythm and pace that was sustainable for a distance race such as this, passing some boats while some others passed us. This set up a leapfrog group of familiar faces at a similar pace that we would spend the next several days exchanging places with, adding to the camaraderie, as most were very pleasant people and very encouraging to us newcomers. Words of encouragement and motivation were shared between boats throughout the weekend. We got through the initial checkpoints and on to nightfall without a hitch, enjoying the challenges as they presented themselves. Everybody was in good spirits; our progress was good, and our pit support was flawless. We tried to arrange our pits for every 3 hours or so but there were some sections of river where this was impossible due to access, requiring us to take multiple jugs to bridge the longer distances.
Securing our lights to the boat at the Palmetto bridge pit stop, we headed off into the fading daylight, laying way back just to fit under the low bridge. Here things got interesting…… When we practiced this section just a few short days before, the water was significantly higher. Now it became a challenge just to stay in enough current to not run aground. This is where our inexperience on this river took a bit of a toll. Not only do we not know the river well, but the darkness made it tougher to set up our approach lines early enough to avoid walking the boat(something we inevitably did dozens of times that night). The remote control for the light was not functioning either, making it difficult to turn off when behind other boats but most people didn’t seem to mind much. Eventually we made it through the slog of night one, albeit it at a significantly reduced pace than we had hoped.
Day 2 quickly warmed up into the high 90s, and we settled into a pattern of stopping every hour or 2 just to submerge our bodies in the river. Oddly, the bathwater temps didn’t provide much relief, however the evaporative cooling once paddling again made it quite pleasant. This also gave our bodies a chance to stand up for a moment as well as heed natures call, if needed. Stopping at the pits, we were greeted with pitchers of ice-cold water dumped on our heads and our jugs filled to the brims with ice for drinking. These insulated jugs kept ice cold for hours, a definite plus for us. In addition to the fluids and foods, our pit crew also provided us with long knee socks stuffed with ice cubes(allowed under the rules as “medical assistance”) that we draped around our necks. These provided several hours of relief from the heat. We setup seat 2 to accommodate a bit of sleeping and rotated ourselves through until we each had gotten 20 minutes of rest during the heat of the day. Not much as far as sleeping goes, but it really recharged the batteries.
The river got much bigger here as we had moved well past the confluence of the San Marcos and Guadalupe rivers overnight, continuing downriver as the Guadalupe River. This made current finding a bit easier but also added in several big rapids and some dangerous sweepers that really kept us on our toes. As we headed in toward nightfall, I grew a bit concerned as we were very alone at this point(we had a few lights to follow the night before), as well as the potential for the sweepers we were encountering to surprise us. Several trouble spots caused us a bit of an issue, including a solid capsize as it became difficult to see the concrete block in the river we collided with. This was an epic moment for sure, as we all came together to right the boat, bail it out and recover our gear in complete darkness. Tragedy narrowly averted. While our light provided great illumination (which fortunately remained secure during our collision), and the river sounds alerted us to the rapids, it was sometimes difficult to know how the river would flow. Maybe this is why teams always opt to have someone who knows the river, hmm?
Through the most difficult portion of this overnight, we took to stopping and scouting lines as the mind plays tricks with the lights causing it to seem like there were drops where there were not as well as altering depth perception due to the hallucinatory effects that we were all succumbing to. Sometimes the river seemed to be going uphill while other times it seemed to drop quickly. While we were all experienced night paddlers, the river conditions and obstacles encountered brought it to another level. As we pulled off to the side for a moment allowing a boat to approach from behind, they asked, matter of factly, “Are the hallucinations getting to you a bit?” Guess you can set your watch by them here in Texas.
At one point, late into the night, while scouting a sweeper above Victoria, we heard a kayaker screaming for help up ahead and found him and his boat pinned beneath a tree. His boat was damaged and his race over, but we were fortunate to be there to help free him. While climbing along the tree and bank to avoid getting swept into the tree myself, I couldn’t help remembering all the snakes I had seen in the water above this section, although fortunately we avoided them, by some stroke of luck. I commented at one point that this entire night was like a bad acid trip. Pulling into the Victoria checkpoint could not have come at a better time, we all needed a break from what had been a pretty harrowing overnight. Ed, in the stern, had been trying to throw up unsuccessfully for hours and was having back spasms while the rest of us just needed a break in the action and hopefully allow daylight to provide some reality(or at least lessen the hallucinations, we were all seeing complete insanity in the trees and rock walls as we past them, “Hey, wait til you guys see this castle up ahead!”)
After a good 30-minute break in Victoria, we headed out into daybreak for the infamous log jams we had been hearing so much about. The first we encountered required a 45 degree scramble up a very muddy hill followed by an equally muddy and steep descent back into the river a hundred yards or so downstream. I’m not sure what it is about the properties of Texan mud, but I can only say this: It is impossible to walk in it and remain standing and you better have your shoelaces tied tightly. Now add in the 45-degree angle and the fact that you need to get your boat up this and you have quite possibly the most difficult portage I’ve ever seen. Everyone has their moment to shine in a race like this. Fortunately for us, Kevin was not going to be beaten down by this section and took the bull by the horns and got on top of the hill to pull as we pushed from below. Here we also encountered a Honey Locust tree, with 6-inch thorn spikes that you didn’t want to be anywhere near falling onto. I’m still not quite sure how we ever got our boat up that hill and there is no way to describe this section adequately to someone who hasn’t seen it, but somehow, we made it back into the river.
From here to the next log jam lay many hours of tedious mind-numbing paddling. Nothing of any significance or particularly challenging but just a long slog through another hot day. Everything in Texas seems much further than estimated. In fact, we joked that each Texas mile is more like 3 miles. We were sitting well behind our projected times at this point, due mostly to the slow overnight progress over the 2 nights, a frustration that was threatening to eat away at us as a team. Trying to keep a positive spin became difficult. Often in ultra distance racing, the most difficult obstacles are the ones that occur in your mind, sometimes it becomes a battle just to focus on the task at hand. There exists in every race of any distance a “low” point, usually towards the end of the race but when there is still a significant amount of water to cover. We were solidly within that phenomenon here. But every mile covered was one more mile closer to the finish. So, we did what we all knew how to do: we just dug in and pushed forward.
Hours later, and by another stroke of luck, we arrived at the second log jam behind a few boats who knew the way through the offshoot maze of ditches known as the “cuts.” There is no way over this main river log jam, it is supposedly miles of logs and fallen trees, existing here for so long that a small collateral stream formed around them. The anecdote we head from locals is that these “cuts can either save you 2 hours of paddling or cost you 12.” Not a particularly encouraging sign for us novices here! My faulty impression/expectation here was that this would be the equivalent of paddling easily through a drain ditch around a log jam (that we never actually saw). Reality, however, was that this was a log choked mess that required multiple exits from the boat to lift above downed trees and limbs, often in deep fast-moving water and more of that famed Texas mud. Was there any part of this course that didn’t come with extra challenges? Losing sight of the boats in front of us as we had a much bigger boat to get through was nerve wracking, this was nowhere to be lost, if we took a wrong turn, we may never be passed by another boat to correct our course. Fortunately, we gradually made it out to what seemed like the main river again after an hour or so. It was a bit surprising to us as the river seemed to have lost a lot of volume from upstream but looking at the map, we concluded that much of that water must end up in the maze of cuts and Alligator Lake off to our right. Now we had to get down to the saltwater barrier and on to the RV park where we would get one last pit before making the bay crossing to the finish.
The Saltwater Barrier is a dam that prevents saltwater from moving upstream during low water periods. Many years, it can be paddled over without stopping. Of course, that wouldn’t be the case for us, as we had to carry over before we could get to our final pit at Calhouns RV Park. Arriving there, we must’ve looked like quite a sight, having climbed through our new favorite brand of mud on several occasions since our last pit. Here we attempted to lighten the load for our bay crossing, ditching all gear and food besides our water jugs and lights. We donned our PFDs and put on spray skirts at the Wooden Bridge checkpoint before heading out along the alligator and snake infested banks as we moved toward the Bay. While most gators we encountered were smaller juveniles, we did see one floating near us that was in the 9’ range. The snakes along the shoreline in this section, however, were massive. Here we also found all the mosquitoes in Texas, they even bite through clothing here.
After what seemed like an eternity, we emerged onto the bay just as sunset was giving way to darkness. Immense in size, it’s hard to determine where exactly to go but we just picked a point at the far end of the barrier island that divided the bay and formed the barge canal. While the waves weren’t quite as big as we had experienced here during our practice run, no one was quite on their “A game” at this point, so we just paddled onward, trying to hold course and navigate the waves. Rounding the far point of the barrier island, the lights of the finish line park came into view, and we were able to focus on a line. We knew there were reefs/islands in this section but had a difficult time seeing them so ended up running aground a mile or so from the finish. Pushing off, our nerves shot, we plowed forward to cheering in the distance. As we came into the floodlights, a surreal experience, we knew we were done. Everything we had left in the tank went into getting us to the buoys that marked the finish line.
Here we were greeted by what seemed like hundreds of spectators, our pit crew, and some family members. My wife, daughters, brother-in-law, and his daughter all cheerfully greeted us at the water, collecting shells as mementos. Completely drained, it was hard to avoid the emotions felt as we climbed up the boat ramp for pictures under the finish line banner. Even standing and walking was difficult at this point, Race Director Bob Spain pointed out to me that this was known as the “Texas Lean.” Ed seemed to be demonstrating how to do it for us correctly as we supported each other for the photos.
61 hours after this adventure began, we crossed the finish line in 26th place overall. We were not completely unscathed, but all walked away a lifetime of memories in what had proven to be a very difficult but rewarding accomplishment. One thing was certain, all were in full agreement that none of this would have been possible without the amazing commitment and support of our absolutely stellar Pit Captains, Rich and Teresa, as much members of our team as anyone in the boat. Having some family there to cheer us on and to be at the finish line meant a lot, also. By far the most difficult thing I’ve ever done, I finally was able to confirm, firsthand, that the Texas Water Safari is indeed “The Toughest Canoe Race in the world.”
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I am going to get to it, but I want to be able to digest it after this herculean effort, have to spend time later.
Finally had the time to devote to this that it deserved after you put in so much work to put it together. So I was able to read the whole account, pretty interesting from a boat point of view and a human point of view. I doubt I could develop that much trust in so many people, not just your whole crew (pit people included) but all the other people in the “Race”. I was making notes as I read to make a long response but a few things really stuck out. When exactly was this, was this the most recent race and would you do it again? But mostly, you never really revealed how many entrants participated in the race, but after careful planning and executing a good part of the plan YOU FINISHED 26TH “OVERALL” AS A FIRST TIME PARTICIPANT? That seems pretty impressive, so where did you all finish in your class and what kind of boats finish at the top overall?
Thanks again for taking the time and effort
mjac
Edit: COED Crew?… That took some guts.
I’ll try to get an answer to all of your questions
This race was in June 2024, daytime temps were running around 100 and dipped into the high 80s at night. The balance of a mixed(coed) team is imho essential to a teams success, and our trust in each other has been established through years of racing together. I’ve traveled many miles with this team, including many long distance races. in fact one of our Pit people was a teammate during the Yukon races I did a few years ago. There were 172 boats registered and I believe about 120? That completed the course. We were 25th overall(one kayak received a time penalty ahead of us so we moved up a spot) and 7th I think in our “class” which was “unlimited” meaning anything goes and usually the fastest boats. I am fairly certain we were the fastest out of state team and although we skipped the novice class, i believe our unlimited boat was the fastest “novice” boat. That designation is only available to first time participants and you have to race a different class boat
Yes I’d do it again with the right partner
My initial reply was a little sloppy so I edited it to clean it up a little bit. Having no experience with the race and no experience with the course, with no one onboard who did, to finish 25th overall and 7th in the unlimited class is a pretty good achievement, I would not have expected that, I thought ya’ll just wanted to survive,not be competitive, the first time out. I am working from memory here but I believe you said ya’ll were up for 62 consecutive hours so I assume that is close to your finishing time. In the video you provided they were interviewing,I think, the “Cowboy” crew and he was saying they were shooting for 39 hours. Your team worked their …… off and finished at 62, albeit first time out, how is 39 even possible? You know a lot more about endurance paddling then I do but I would think that in such a demanding environment the physical disparities with a COED crew would be challenging. I believe I saw in the video female classes, are their COED classes? What kind of boats win the whole thing, 4 man, 6 man, 8 man canoes?
All interesting stuff and you were very thorough. The only thing that gets me though, is what really makes it tough, is the portages, not the paddling. But you could argue that is what the fur traders faced.
Thanks for taking the time
mjac
Couple factors: those guys were in a 40 foot super narrow boat with 6 paddlers. A lot more horsepower…so those boats generally finish in that time range (and they are annual racers familiar with the course) although it was also a high water year which impacts overall time significantly. We had low water so we’re out of the boat walking it much more. The fastest boat this year had past Texan winners and the winningest Canadian paddler in the sport today who regularly wins the Triple Crown races year after year…
Fun fact tho, the “Cowboys” this year had a boat issue and we caught them a couple hours before the end. They ended up back in front of us and beat us by 27 minutes but it made it a fun finish.
The portages and log jams eat away at you with their difficulty but they also present an opportunity to be out of the boat for a minute and even though you are still busting your butt to move forward, you learn to appreciate the muscle group changes