Inland Sea Kayakers: Trip Reports

Back to Trip Reports

Cold Water Immersion, Lake Calhoun, April 15, 2000
by Jody Russell

There are some mornings when one knows as soon as one wakes up and hears the world, that it would be a better day to stay in bed. April 15th was just that sort of day for me, and not because of the day's infamous tax implications. The sound of rain and wind against the side of my house and into my windows, the lack of morning spring sun pressing through the shades, and the general bleakness in the room spoke loudly of just that kind of day. Perhaps a book, a bath, a fire, coffee and spicy chili would be the way to go.

But alas, I am a woman of commitments. And I had agreed to participate in the Cold Water Immersion event which began at 11 a.m. Unfortunately, that left plenty of time for the weather to worsen and my resolve to go diminish. Both happened. By 10:30 however, my boat was snugged to the roof of my car, a thermos of hot tea was steeped, and most of my fleece and polypro and neoprene clothes were heaped into a bag and I was off.

The folks in my neck of the woods tend to turn their heads to check out the green wagon with the blue kayak atop it normally, but on this Saturday, I was sure the looks were tinged with, "You've gotta be kidding." It was sort of how I felt too. I normally think they are looking at the set-up longingly saying, "Wow, she sure is lucky to be able to go out in her boat today!" Enough.

I arrived precisely on time, though I think others had been there a while. Dana Dickson had set up his wonderfully multi-colored tarp to protect us from the rain, which seemed to have let up, and the wind, which seemed to have increased. I think the colors of that tarp are meant to brighten up an otherwise dismal day...it did its best.

We were ten people in an assorted colorful array of kayak gear, winter coats, warm hats and gloves. Our boats on the beach, we huddled near the tarp, while Dana presented a brief talk on hypothermia -- what it is, how to recognize it, how to treat it, how to prevent it. For me it was a mixture of things I knew, things I simply didn't know, and things I ought to have known but didn't.
Group Photo

The wind seemed to pick up in its intensity as we set out to paddle and to test our gear in the water. Thoughts of a fire to snuggle in front of loomed in my head; the cup of coffee transforming into a glass of merlot. Then -- I sat in my boat.

There's this feeling every time I slide into the cockpit of that boat. I fit there. I'm glad to be there. I can't wait to get out on the water. I am excited to feel my passage, connected to my boat, through the water. What I really mean is -- I love to kayak. So despite the wind blasting into us from the other side of Lake Calhoun, despite the fact that the waves mounting before me were pushing me back to shore, despite the fact that my cheeks and chin began to sting with the cold, it felt good. Really good.

We paddled much of the way across the lake to warm up. I don't think anyone was feeling particularly cold, although a bit of teasing led to a bit of paddle splashing, and made my cheeks tingle a little more. The rain never returned, though the wind kept up its blowing. Chuck's Kestrel measured wind speed of 15 mph with gusts of 20. The lake was about 44 degrees, which felt surprisingly warmer than the air.

Soon we turned back and with the wind behind us, decided to do some gear testing. Someone did a roll. Someone else did a roll and reentry. Someone else rolled. I watched, debating my options. It was tough to even stay in place to watch someone's acrobatics due to the wind. Finally, I did slide out of my boat and practiced a T rescue. Before I re-entered my boat, though, I hung there and felt the water. This was my first full immersion experience in my new dry suit. It had performed fine for paddles so far, and its drop seat had provided easy "bathroom" access and much humor, but it was the first time I was experiencing it in the water. I stayed dry -- and with the two layers of fleece underneath, quite warm. Once satisfied with its integrity, I climbed back into my boat.

I was impressed by everyone's desire to not only test their gear, but use this kind of day to practice rolls and rescues. What die-hard kayakers! And thanks to Dana Dickson for putting this event together. Nice job.