Memories from the Outing Club, 1960-1968
Andres Peekna
265 Coe Road, Clarendon Hills, IL 60514-1029
Email: apeekna@comcast.net
January 13, 2003
This is not an all-encompassing history. Instead, it reflects those events in the history of white water boating at Hoofers during 1960-1968 with which I am most familiar. Such an approach is best when it comes to maximum accuracy. Others can fill in details with which they are more familiar. (Steve Ransburg has already done so, in his Early Recollections of the Outing Club, referred to herein). Fortunately, I had saved some notes, plus old issues of the American Whitewater Affiliation (AWA) journal American White Water. Thus, in some areas this writeup isn’t dependent on memory alone. Events here are arranged chronologically, by year.
1960
First joined, in June. I was signed in by Oscar Strickholm, the same unassuming young man who later drowned on the Wolf in the spring of 1961. He asked me whether my main interest was lake boating or river trips. I recall saying something like “Right now, the primary interest is boating on the lake, but as for river trips, let’s see.”
It turned out that Oscar Strickholm and I share some common background. His parents had come from Estonia, where I was born. From talking with him, I got the impression that he was from a Swedish-Estonian family, from a coastal area in Northwest Estonia, which was settled by ethnic Swedes. My own background is ethnic Estonian. The Estonian language is a Finno-Ugric language, which the latest research suggests is the oldest language-family in Northern Europe. Estonian is very similar to Finnish.
The mangled, tarred and patched-up appearance of the canoe fleet was, at first, a serious deterrent for even considering a rapids trip. Upon finding out that such damage occurred only after the canoe had sunk, I was reassured enough to try it. First trip was on the Bois Brule river in NW Wisconsin. An ideal beginner’s stream: the rapids start out easy and get progressively more challenging. I was hooked. Took several more river trips that summer, culminating on two challenging sections of the Wolf river in September. On that trip, my paddling partner was Reed Saunders, the Canoeing Chairman at that time. We hit it off well.
The impact on the club of Oscar Strickholm’s drowning the next year, 1961, was made all the more difficult by the fact that there had already been an earlier wake-up call. In the spring of 1960, Glen Ohm nearly drowned on the Roaring Rapids section of the Peshtigo river. During that summer, I had the opportunity to talk with both Glen Ohm (on a mountaineering trip) and the man who rescued him, Richard Brown.
The party was running the Roaring Rapids section in high spring water. The water was still very cold. None had wet-suits. Old WWII style kapok lifejackets were carried in the boats but these cumbersome things were not worn. The canoes were open (not decked).
After having portaged Horserace, Glen Ohm put in to run the S-curve. Although he had not scouted it from shore beforehand, he was nevertheless waved on. In spite of the fact that he was paddling solo, his canoe soon swamped and sank due to the high waves. He remembered his catching a breath being hindered by foamy water at the surface. At one point, he remembered being pinned to the river bottom (fortunately relatively gently) by his sunken canoe, and just barely managing to throw it off. His last thought before losing consciousness was: “I am either going to wake up with a lot of people around me, or I am not going to wake up.”
His rescuer, Richard Brown, was a graduate student in physics who got his Ph.D. a few years later. Dick Brown was very athletic, being an accomplished gymnast, good cyclist, very strong swimmer and of course, a white water canoeist. What made the difference that day was that while others were rushing downstream along the shore, failing to keep up with the current, Dick Brown decided to cut across the land instead. He knew the river would soon turn left, and as he was on the left bank, first ran uphill, then downhill again to the river, and waited. Soon, he saw a pair of legs, entered the rapids, and got Glen out. Glen had no water in his lungs. Apparently, he had just stopped breathing. Artificial respiration was required for revival. Recovery was no fun either: Glen related that for two days he could not keep any food down.
Several very elementary safety rules were violated in that incident. But excellent teamwork-support saved his life.
This is not to imply that the attitude toward safety, in 1960, had not improved over prior years. Reed Saunders related how, in prior years, the rating “whitewater canoeist”, which qualified the person to captain a canoe on “advanced rapids” (grade III or higher), was determined by a simple vote of the membership. At one point, a person nominated objected, saying: “Look, I have never even been on a river”. By the time I joined, this had been changed, such that existing “whitewater canoeists”, who had opportunity to observe candidates on rivers, elected newcomers to that rating.
1961
The beginning shocker was the tragic drowning of Oscar Strickholm in Boy Scout rapids on the Wolf. My own memory totally tracks with Steve Ransburg’s (see Early Recollections of the Outing Club by Steve Ransburg). Steve’s account is quite detailed.
As to the aftermath, I would like to add the following. In one of the following meetings, Reed Saunders, Canoeing Chairman, felt very responsible for this accident, in spite of the fact that Reed had urged Oscar to put his lifejacket on. Thus, he thought that he should resign. This was met with unanimous dissent: we all urged that especially in light of this recent experience, Reed would be the very best Canoeing (safety) Chairman imaginable. It was a very good thing that Reed acceded. He not only took the heat, he was also willing to go back into the kitchen. It taught all of us something about responsibility.
Regarding the new lifejackets brought in by Reed, mentioned by Steve Ransburg, I’d like to add that on the day of Oscar Strickholm’s drowning, Reed and his paddling partner were already wearing the new lifejackets, which Reed had purchased at his own expense. Almost no one wanted to wear the old WWII kapok lifejackets, because (1) they were extremely cumbersome, significantly impeding motion both in and out of water and (2) a clasp-mechanism at one shoulder would sometimes come undone in turbulent water, at which point the lifejacket became more a hindrance than a help.
The new life jackets were a vast improvement. Nevertheless, some further improvement needs arose. Personally, I found that the padded collar caused such water drag as to make significant swimming speed impossible. Being a strong swimmer myself, I felt less need for high flotation than for swimming speed, so as to get out of the rapids as quickly as possible. On mine, I ended up removing the collar. The leg straps could also cause problems when getting in and out of the boat. Eventually, several of us purchased our own personal lifejackets, of different designs and manufacture. For various reasons, including arguments over Coast Guard requirements totally divorced from reality on a river, the club could not agree on a common design, at least until 1968, when I left.
Partly due to the fact that Oscar Strickholm was known not to be a strong swimmer, a swimming test was introduced for all wishing to go on rapids trips. This required treading water for ten minutes, while wearing a shirt, long pants, and tennis shoes. Typical garb which boaters wore (except for the lifejacket). The primary objective was to weed out those candidates who might panic when dunked, clothes and all, into the water.
The swimming test appeared at the time, and still does, as a totally salutary move. It was sad to see that one person with the “whitewater canoeist” rating got disqualified upon failing this test. But most of us felt that this tightening up of safety standards was absolutely necessary.
During that same year, I’d noticed that while the hoofers were still paddling according to the classical canoe technique of keeping the weight centered in the boat, more ambitious moves could be seen in Peter D. Whitney’s book White Water Sport, and in the American Whitewater Affiliation (AWA) journal American White water (both available in Hoofers Quarters). In these moves, much of the paddler’s weight was committed onto the paddle. By contrast, heretofore the term “paddle brace” was not even used among hoofers. Neither source had explicit instructions. Thus, I decided to experiment on the lake.
The experiments bore fruit. Not only was the paddle successful in offering a third point of stability, the more aggressive technique nearly doubled maneuvering speed. Measured against today’s accomplishments in paddling virtuosity (enders, etc.) these were no more than baby steps. But we had to learn to walk before we could run.
The reaction of other boaters was interesting. With only one exception (Marilyn Saunders, Reed Saunders’ sister), the more experienced boaters initially received it as a lead balloon. But Scott Arighi and Steve Ransburg adopted the new technique immediately, and were happy with the results.
1962
Early this summer, the Canoeing Chairman, Reed Saunders, had to leave town temporarily and appointed me in his place. The time had come to teach the new hang-your-weight-on-the-paddle techniques to all the beginners. Accordingly, a meeting with all the canoe instructors was arranged, with follow-up sessions on the lake with every instructor to make sure they knew the techniques themselves. Marilyn Saunders (Reed’s sister) was a leader among the instructors and a consistent supporter of improvement.
The more senior boaters now had the privilege of witnessing beginners actually outperforming them in maneuvering ability. Immediately, almost all adopted the same techniques.
For several years, running Horserace in the Roaring Rapids section of the Peshtigo had been outlawed on Outing Club trips, because of a high dunk rate and also because its sheer power could severely damage both the canoe and the dunkers. It was now felt that the more aggressive paddling technique gave our skill level a sufficient boost so that we could experiment with relaxing that restriction. Thus it was tentatively lifted in August 1962. On that trip, running Horserace was restricted to teams with both paddlers having the “whitewater canoeist” rating.
A picture of Steve Ransburg and Andres Peekna at the bottom end of Horserace on that trip is shown in Figure 1, photo by Scott Arighi. Figure 1 qualifies here as a good “before” picture, that is, before the introduction of much safer decked boats with maximal flotation, plus helmets. For several years, it hung on the wall of Hoofers Quarters. By contrast, Figures 2 to 6, taken in 1968, represent the “after” condition.
At the time, there was indeed significant concern over whether a white-water boating program could be sustained, in view of the stronger safety standards and consequently longer learning times required for bringing a boater up to, say grade III skill level. The more aggressive paddling technique seemed to be a step in the right direction. But it was felt that this was not sufficient in itself. We had also been reading about decked canoes and kayaks used in the eastern U.S.
1963
The first event of that year which influenced boats and boating techniques was a trip to the East Coast. It started out with a white water slalom at State College, PA, put on by Dave Kurtz and his explorer-scout troop plus some of their alumni. The course was very well set on grade II rapids.
Figure 1. Steve Ransburg (bow) and Andres Peekna (stern) running Horserace in August 1962. Photo by Scott Arighi.
Immediately, we found out how clumsy our 17-foot Grumman canoes were, compared with the 15-footers and the newer fiberglass decked canoes, called “banana boats” at the time.
In the following week, we had great fun cruising eastern rivers. The trip culminated at the Brandywine (Wilmington, DE) slalom. Among other things, we saw canvas-decked 15-foot canoes, even though the water flow over the slalom course on that day did not call for decking.
Subsequently, a few of the existing 17-foot canoes in the hoofer fleet were retrofitted with canvas decks, with mixed results, namely finger injuries upon brushing by the protuberances, and soaking up water by the canvas deck, as the primary drawbacks.
It was decided that the “banana boat” approach involving decked fiberglass canoes, was much more promising. Among other things, the “banana boats”, both C-1 and C-2, were much more maneuverable.
As best as I recall, that was the summer that Dwight Gibb showed up with his fiberglass kayak. (Prior to this, I’d experimented with a Klepper folding kayak, and found it unsatisfactory.) Dwight gave a significant boost to the move towards decked fiberglass boats. He was almost certainly the first hoofer to roll, as he already had that skill before he came. Many of us learned soon thereafter, some independently. Rolling demonstrations observed during the Brandywine trip also helped, especially in steering beginning rollers away from the complicated “screw roll” to the much simpler “put-across roll”. Once a simple roll is mastered, a paddler can learn more complicated moves without assistance.
Dwight Gibb was the main spark plug in getting white water kayaking going within the Outing Club. Moreover, he volunteered the use of his boat as a “plug”, or model, from which a two-piece fiberglass mold was made. Thus, from that mold, replicas of his kayak were duplicated. This gave great impetus to building decked fiberglass canoes as well. If my memory serves me right, actual boat-building didn’t start until the next year, 1964.
That summer (1963) I purchased the first decked fiberglass C-1 of any of us in the Outing Club, from Stewart Coffin (MA). Received it late that summer. Beyond learning to roll it, I don’t recall using it much that year.
Prodded by the experience of the Brandywine trip which underscored the need to communicate with the rest of the world, Outing Club formally went over to the International Scale of River Difficulty. As “beginning rapids” roughly corresponded with grade I, “intermediate rapids” with grade II, and “advanced rapids” with grade III or higher, the transition went smoothly.
1964
At the start of this year, fellow hoofer Richard Snellgrove and I decided that it was time to get out a guidebook for the white water streams in the Wisconsin area. All of us agreed that the pre-existing Wisconsin Water Trails by the Wisconsin Conservation Department was misleading at best. The river descriptions were inconsistent, implying that some difficult streams were easy, and vice versa. It read like a compilation from different unknown sources. Improvement was clearly needed.
Motives were (1) guidelines for future Hoofers Outing Club trip leaders and (2) people outside of Hoofers, who, it was hoped that, once they had the experience, would support river conservation. (At that point in time, we had met only very few river boaters in the Wisconsin area who were not hoofers.) Guide to White Water in Wisconsin by Andres Peekna and Richard Snellgrove went to duplication in May 1964. It described runs on eight rivers. These were: Wolf (3 sections), Peshtigo (3 sections), Pike, Flambeau South Fork, Flambeau North Fork (2-day section), Bois Brule (3 sections), Ontonagon East Branch, Oconto North Branch. It was a start. Hoofers also ran the Vermilion river in LaSalle County, IL, but this was not described in the guidebook.
That spring, the first slalom was held on the Wolf river. This arose from local trout-fishing enthusiasts (Troutland), most notably Herb and Cap Buettner, making common cause with us Hoofer white-water boaters in efforts to preserve the Wolf river. (For background, see Early Recollections of the Outing Club, by Steve Ransburg, the section “Preserving Rivers”.) An idea, first suggested to Herb Buettner by Scott Arighi, was that a white water slalom competition on the Wolf would help publicize its recreational potential and thereby help in efforts to secure its preservation.
The course was at the first (basically grade I) rapids downstream of the bridge at Langlade. Partly out of concern about repelling boaters not well skilled in white water techniques and partly arising from sheer lack of personnel to set up the course, the slalom course ended up not challenging at all in maneuvering demands. It was basically a speed race, set on easy water.
As I recall, the boat-building program got started that year. In the next four years, three C-1 designs and 2-3 C-2 designs were built. Kayaks were limited to the design Dwight Gibb brought to us. Beyond helping my wife-to-be, then Sue Schouten, build two C-1’s, I did not keep up with the details of the program. People who played key roles (such as Eric Olsen and Jim Fahey) can provide information much better than I.
1965
The guidebook Guide to White Water in Wisconsin by Andres Peekna and Richard Snellgrove once again went to print, in April. This time, the local chapter of the Sierra Club sponsored publication. This edition was essentially a cleaned-up version of the first.
The slalom was held on the Wolf river at the same location as in the previous year. The course was a little more challenging, but many of us were still held back by reluctance to repel boaters not well skilled in white water techniques.
The boat-building program continued. The first fiberglass decked C-2 in Wisconsin was built, by a team led by Eric Jacobson. The half-mold for the “Green Monster” was purchased from Dave Kurtz in PA.
That fall, I purchased a “Boston kayak” from Stewart Coffin. The kayak design brought by Dwight Gibb had no rocker. Thus it almost had to be leaned on its side for even a gentle turn, which was a drawback. I was much happier with the Stew Coffin kayak, and took it on rapids immediately.
During winter 1965-1966, pool-rolling got started at Lathrop Hall (the pool in the women’s gymnasium). They were willing to accept boats, provided such were properly hosed down to begin with. Same went for the boaters. These sessions, available during the off-season under comfortable conditions were much fun and boosted our rolling skills significantly. Several learned to roll kayaks hands-only. I used two different hands-only styles, though none of us went as far as a one-handed roll. Recently I was told that the pool-rolling sessions have continued to this day. We can only hope that they will continue further.
Late that year, a project started with the goal toward (1) finding rivers in the Wisconsin area that we were unfamiliar with, and (2) filling in and revising our guidebook. Thus, a systematic scan of the U.S. Geological Survey (USGS) topographic maps of all of Wisconsin and Upper Michigan was started. The goal was to find all rivers in this area with sufficient drop and drainage area for a promising white water run. This resulted in, among other things, in exploration and adding to a later edition of the guidebook (May 1967) of six more rivers. Many people participated in this project. Terry Spennetta, Sue Schouten (now Sue Peekna) and Dan McCord deserve special mention.
1966
In the spring, the slalom on the Wolf came up again. Partly out of safety concerns not so much for our own boaters than for others (any injury or fatality would generate adverse publicity for the Wolf river), it was again decided to set the course over the grade I rapids immediately downstream of the Langlade bridge. Landowner permission also played a role.
But this year, it was decided to set as challenging a course as the otherwise easy rapids would permit. In setting the course, the objective was to make sure that no competitor in any boat class (C-1, C-1W, C-2, C-2M, K-1, K-1W) except possibly the winner, would finish with zero penalty points. Such indeed proved to be the case. It was the first challenging slalom in Wisconsin, though with a tight course on easy water.
The project of scanning USGS topographic maps, started in the previous autumn, bore fruit. This year (1966), six rivers previously unfamiliar to us were explored. These were: Little Wolf, Red, Eau Claire (2 sections), Menominee, Escanaba (2 sections), and Ford. Next year, their descriptions would be added to our guidebook.
Members of the Outing Club began contributing articles to the AWA journal, American White Water. “No noise at all”, by Andres Peekna, extolled the joy of piloting a high-performance rapids boat, C-1 and kayak, and commented on the safety advantages of maximal flotation. It appeared in the Summer 1966 issue.
The boat-building program continued, as did the pool-rolling….
1967
Guide to White Water in the Wisconsin Area, by Andres Peekna, published again by the Wisconsin Hoofers Outing Club, went into duplication in May 1967. This edition was completely rewritten. The most significant change was the introduction of U.S. Geological Survey (USGS) flow data. This may have been the first guidebook to do so. For assistance in this respect, I would like to thank again C.L.R. Holt, Fred C. Dreher, and Donald G. Hurtgen of the Water Resources Division of the USGS office in Madison, WI.
The extensive use of the USGS flow data met with mixed reactions. Some thought it great, as it gave maximal information about water conditions. Others were of the opinion that one should not have to be a hydrologist or other scientist in order to understand all the material in the guidebook. Understandable. Personally, I was of the opinion that not all information necessarily has to be understood by everyone, and that “dumbing down” would only shortchange the more astute readers. Over the years, I have not changed my mind.
As the copies ran out quickly, another edition went into duplication in August 1967. This was not a radical revision but did contain several additions and changes. Chief of these was inclusion of the Vermilion river (LaSalle County, IL). Description of the Ontonagon East Branch was significantly improved by Bob Palzer. Notes by Alden Wright helped improve the description of the Eau Claire river.
Several hoofers, led by Eric Olsen, participated in the first American Canoe Association (ACA) Western Division slalom championships in Missouri, and did well. The slalom on the Wolf was again run on the grade I rapids immediately downstream of the Langlade bridge.
Contributions by hoofers to American White Water included ”Safety as we See It; Car Top Carriers”, and a review of John T. Urban’s fine A White Water Handbook for Canoe and Kayak, by Andres Peekna, both in the Spring 1967 issue. The Summer 1967 issue contained the excellent, very thoroughly researched article “Helmets for White Water Canoeing”, by fellow hoofer Eric S. Jacobson.
The Winter 1967/68 issue included “Maximum Flotation for Safety” by Andres Peekna. This described the various methods in detail: sit sacks, large form-fitting air bags, and bulkheads. One problem with rigid bulkheads was that they tend to weaken a fiberglass hull by adding excessive rigidity to a small area, thus concentrating stresses. Terry Spennetta was the first to try two-inch-thick “Ethafoam”, a flexible closed-cell expanded polyethylene foam, for bulkhead material. This proved very successful.
Another interesting innovation was the “cloth cylinder”, by Steve Ransburg. To solve the problem of stowing gear behind a bulkhead in a kayak, Steve made a waterproof-cloth cylinder of the same girth as his kayak, and glued one hem around the inside of the kayak, just behind the cockpit. When the other hem is gathered together and tied up like the mouth of a sack, it becomes a cloth bulkhead that seals off the stern. However, the glue joint between the waterproof cloth and the inside of the kayak tended to develop leaks, so in the end Steve abandoned that approach. The article also included four photos (by Paul Krombholz) of boats held on their sides with water overlapping their lower cockpit rim(s), to show how high they actually float.
Thus, by this time, white water boaters of the Hoofers Outing Club were no longer just absorbing knowledge from elsewhere, but were also contributing their own ideas and findings to the paddling community in North America.
1968
This May, the course for the Wolf River Slalom was set on Hansen’s rips, the last rapid above the County Highway M Bridge, at Markton. In summer water, this could be classified as high grade II, and in spring, as grade III. The lead course-setter was Eric Olsen, who by this time had taken numerous trips to Eastern slaloms and learned much from there. This slalom was the second ACA Western Division championships. Serious white-water slalom had arrived in Wisconsin.
The course was challenging indeed. At a meeting following that slalom weekend, the Outing Club Chairman (Bob Palzer) asked for a show of hands from people who never once had to swim for it, in that slalom. Only one hand went up. But that person only competed in one boat class (many competed in several), and placed third. Conservative boating.
The “Safety as We See It” column in the Spring 1968 issue of American White Water was written by fellow hoofer Bill Waters.
The Winter 1968/69 issue of American White Water had on its cover a photo (by Al Stamm) of Bill Waters and Alden Wright in a C-2 in the Wolf River Slalom, and also contained a photo (by Al Stamm) of Margie Smith (now Margie Arighi) in a kayak in the same slalom (she won K-1W), and a photo (by Bart Hauthaway) of Eric Olsen in a C-1 in the Mascoma Slalom that year. These are also reproduced here (Figures 2, 3, and 4, respectively).
Figure 2. Bill Waters (bow) and Alden Wright (stern), 1968 Wolf River Slalom. Photo by Al Stamm.
The spring 1969 issue contained two more pictures from the 1968 Wolf River Slalom. One showed Will Provine, U. of Chicago, in his kayak (he won K-1, photo by Al Stamm). The other was of me in my C-1 (I placed third), in a Flotherchoc life vest ad, photo by Al Stamm. Al got a free life vest (which he still has) for furnishing that photo. (The ad ran six more times, reduced to about half size.) Both pictures are also reproduced here, as Figures 5 and 6, respectively. Figures 2 through 6 are reproduced here at the same size as they appeared in American White Water.
This year and after leaving Madison in September, I also worked on a method for predicting minimal flow rate for running a river during a dry spell, based on the highest mean flow for 30 days during the spring runoff, which was assumed to be a key parameter in scouring out the river channel to begin with (the highest flows have the greatest effects). Another hypothesis in this construct is that, at the springtime high flows which are most responsible for scouring out the riverbed, the condition of critical flow is attained. At critical flow, the total energy per unit mass of water (kinetic energy, which is proportional to the square of the velocity, plus potential energy, which is proportional to depth) becomes very insensitive
Figure 3. Margie Smith (now Margie Arighi), winner K-1W, 1968 Wolf River Slalom. Photo Al Stamm.
Figure 4. Eric Olsen, Mascoma Slalom, 1968. Photo by Bart Hauthaway.
Figure 5. Will Provine, U. of Chicago, winner K-1, 1968 Wolf River Slalom. Photo by Al Stamm.
Figure 6. Andres Peekna, 3rd place C-1, 1968 Wolf River Slalom. Photo by Al Stamm.
to depth. This results in surface undulations and associated large-scale turbulence. Engineers designing artificial channels try to avoid the critical flow condition because of its erosive effect on the channel. Previous work by the river scientists Leopold, Wolman and Miller indicated that the tendency of rocks and cobbles to shield each other from the current plays an important role in the formation of riffles and at least some types of boulder-bed rapids. The condition of critical flow becomes a logical hypothesis for overcoming this shielding effect and thereby providing the threshold for boulder movement in the rapids, thus maintaining the vertical gradient at boulder-bed rapids.
The predictions were compared to the data, in an informal paper titled “A Method for Predicting Minimal Flow for Rapids Boating from High-Flow Data, and Critical Velocity in Rapids at Peak Flows”, April 9, 1970. This can be obtained from Andres Peekna upon request. Three river runs for which the minimal flow rates for enjoyable running were well determined are: Pike downstream of the County Highway K bridge, Section 1 of the Eau Claire, and Ontonagon East Branch. (The above flow rates were also reported in the August 1967 edition of Guide to White Water in the Wisconsin Area.) Less precisely, upper limits were established for the Vermilion, and for parts of the Wolf. The predictions agree reasonably well with the actual findings.
A shameful confession on my part is that in spite of encouragement from C.L.R. Holt and others at the USGS, I failed to follow through with relatively minimal follow-up research. This would have involved delving into previous publications on rivers at high flows, and could have provided a direct quantitative check on whether as hypothesized, the condition of critical flow was attained at the higher flow rates over rapids, at least in some cases. Job-hunting and making-a-living pressures for my family intervened at the time, and such could not be helped.
Epilogue
My membership in the Outing Club lasted from June 1960 through August 1968, when I departed to the U of WI - Oshkosh, to become a faculty member in the physics department there. (Since then, worked at a government laboratory, at two industrial firms, and currently run my own R/D service company, Innovative Mechanics, Inc. Three kids: Heli 33 (PhD in psychology), Kalev 29, and Markus 26.)
We are beset with too many nostalgic memoirs focusing on the “good old days”. For example, a chronicle of the Teutonic Knights states that “men were better then than now”. There are numerous additional writings going at least as far back as the ancient Greeks suggesting that the younger generation is going to the dogs. If all this were true, after all the successive degenerations, we would be unable to feed ourselves even if our dinner were to be served up in a hog-trough or in a dog-food dish. We know better. Modern paddling skills and boat designs vastly surpass what we were able to do in the 1960’s.
Yet the 1960’s at the Hoofers Outing Club were an exciting time; a time of great change. Such changes included (1) improvements in safety requirements, (2) improvements in paddling techniques (3) improvements in boat designs (4) introduction of white-water slalom, and (5) writing better guidebooks. Most of these improvements were not originated independently, on our own. We learned much from the paddlers near the East Coast. But by the later 60’s, we were also contributing our own ideas and findings to the paddling community in North America.
While some take comfort in timeless, unchanging traditions, others see real excitement in maximum change. The world of white-water boating in the Hoofers Outing Club in the 1960’s offered both features at the same time. The boats were based on traditional bark canoes and skin boats of North America, while undergoing modernization.
An aspect of the Hoofers Outing Club which may have been somewhat unique at the time, was welcoming female white-water boaters. (I have been told that this tradition has continued.) In the Outing Club, female boaters were not just encouraged to become good paddlers, they were expected to become such. And for the most part, they did. Outstanding female boaters go at least as far back as Marilyn Saunders. By contrast, several other paddling clubs were, at the time, perceived to have a more male-chauvinist outlook.
Some further personal observations on this subject: First observation was that female boaters became very good indeed; it appeared that what they lacked in upper body strength they made up in better coordination. The second and more interesting observation was that both the very best and the very worst (the kind that would never learn) boaters tended to be male. This second observation may be due to greater variability among males and/or due to male boaters outnumbering females; as I recall, the gender ratio was not 1/1 but closer to 2/1.
It was good to see that the guidebook work was extended by Bob and Jody Palzer, with the publication of Whitewater; Quietwater, in 1973. This is a much more encyclopedic work, which also includes map reproductions. USGS flow data are also included, where available. They are presented in easier-to-understand bar-graph type format, without losing much in informfational detail. Congratulations!
Another excellent work by Hoofer alumni is the book Wildwater Touring, by Scott Arighi and Margaret S. Arighi, Macmillan, New York, 1974. This very thorough and well written book (over 330 pages) also contains a complete guide to nine wilderness river tours in Idaho and Oregon, all three days or longer, with difficulty ratings from grade I to grade IV. They too, use flow data. Discussion of boat types is not limited to canoes and kayaks but also includes other watercraft, such as rigid drift boats, inflatable rafts, and inflatable kayaks.
It was a great privilege to experience the white water boating program at the Hoofers Outing Club in the 1960’s, and to contribute to its success in whatever ways I could reasonably bring to bear.
Much was done, by many. Much bore fruit.