Feature - October 2005

A Kayak Runs Through It
by Joe Glickman

Though I log most of my paddling hours in the ocean, the idea of river travel has appealed to me ever since my mom read Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn to me when I was a kid. Piloting a boat on moving water that carves a sinuous path through ever-changing scenery offers peace, solitude and an intimate connection with the landscape, all for only a fraction of the exertion of paddling still water.
But what I find most alluring about river travel is the idea of using the forces of nature to go somewhere. A river is like a conveyor belt. Get aboard it, and it will take you places hundreds, even thousands, of miles downstream. In 1994, I set my kayak in the headwaters of the Missouri River. Seventy-seven days later, it had carried me 2,500 miles to its confluence with the Mississippi. Looking back, I was terrifically unprepared. But time and necessity forced me to learn, and later to recognize problems before they occurred.
I made more than a few mistakes, but the inevitable mishaps are a small price to pay for the pleasure a scenic river has to offer. Because sea kayaks lack the maneuverability of comparatively short, whitewater kayaks, our focus here is on navigable rivers that are high on beauty and low on the risks inherent with fast-moving water. Still, even the tamest river has some hazards you’ll need to consider before striking out on your own.