NOC's Instruction Blog has a very cool paddling lexicon. (in addition to lots of other useful info).
Here's a link:
http://nocpaddlingschool.blogspot.com/2007/08/glossary-of-whitewater-terminology.html
For those who might not know, NOC stands for "Nantahala Outdoor Center", a mecca of SE boating and one of the best kayaking schools in the world.
September 8, 2007
August 28, 2007
wildest dreams
I have a song by Moody Bluegrass, their rendition of "Wildest Dreams". It's really a lovely song, and Moody Bluegrass does a great version of it. It makes me think of you.
Once upon a time
Once when you were mine
I remember skies
Reflected in your eyes
I wonder where you are
I wonder if you
Think about me
Once upon a time
In your wildest dreams
Once the world was new
Our bodies felt the morning dew
That greets the brand new day
We couldn't tear ourselves away
I wonder if you care
I wonder if you still remember
Once upon a time
In your wildest dreams
And when the music plays
And when the words are
Touched with sorrow
When the music plays
I hear the sound
I had to follow
Once upon a time
Once beneath the stars
The universe was ours
Love was all we knew
And all I knew was you
I wonder if you know
I wonder if you think about it
Once upon a time
In your wildest dreams
And when the music plays
And when the words are
Touched with sorrow
When the music plays
And when the music plays
I hear the sound
I had to follow
Once upon a time
Once upon a time
Once when you were mine
I remember skies
Mirrored in your eyes
I wonder where you are
I wonder if you
Think about me
Once upon a time
In your wildest dreams
Once upon a time
Once when you were mine
I remember skies
Reflected in your eyes
I wonder where you are
I wonder if you
Think about me
Once upon a time
In your wildest dreams
Once the world was new
Our bodies felt the morning dew
That greets the brand new day
We couldn't tear ourselves away
I wonder if you care
I wonder if you still remember
Once upon a time
In your wildest dreams
And when the music plays
And when the words are
Touched with sorrow
When the music plays
I hear the sound
I had to follow
Once upon a time
Once beneath the stars
The universe was ours
Love was all we knew
And all I knew was you
I wonder if you know
I wonder if you think about it
Once upon a time
In your wildest dreams
And when the music plays
And when the words are
Touched with sorrow
When the music plays
And when the music plays
I hear the sound
I had to follow
Once upon a time
Once upon a time
Once when you were mine
I remember skies
Mirrored in your eyes
I wonder where you are
I wonder if you
Think about me
Once upon a time
In your wildest dreams
August 14, 2007
The Beatles
The Beatles
It is remarkable to me that they performed 'Twist and Shout' for the Queen Mother, all of the Beatles of course in their suits and ties... hell yes. Rattle yer jewelry, that did.
It's the songs that get me, though. It always was and is.
I have this faint memory circa 1973 of this girl asking me and a cousin what our favorite bands were for a high school class project -for a survey she was taking. I say 'high school' because she was asking 7 year old kids what our favorite bands were. It could have been college, though I question her methodology if so. It could have been a secret gov't project. But I suspect it was high school. In my memory she had long blond hair, and we were standing on the sidewalk. Anyway, she asked us what our favorite bands were.
My cousin said, "Three Dog Night". I said, "The Beatles". He mocked me. She said, approvingly, "Alright, The Beatles...". I don't know why I remember that so vividly. I was mocked, after all. I just think she approved. But what a tender thing to admit! What a piece of my heart to expose. An ancient, defunct band like The Beatles. 2 years broke up, 3, what was it? And amidst mockery. Story of my life, Amidst Mockery. Anyway, yes I said The Beatles. Of course I did.
Now, this is not to say I was Some Enlightened Child, because I have enjoyed my share of Treacle and Drivel, including several disco hits as they arose... after all I was a Child Of The 70's And Early 80's, and I loved the same things my compadres in age loved. And an early appreciation for Quincy Jones' production is not to be discarded...
But somewhere around 1982 something happened. My sister Kat had a cassette tape that someone, I think Morris, gave her, of the Beatles (she will read this and correct me if it was not Morris). It was Revolver, Rubber Soul, some of Yesterday and Today... I still have it BTW. I really do still have it! They could Make Cassette Tapes back in those days. Sturdy things. Anyway I 'borrowed it' and never returned it. It does not have the stuff Ringo sang on those albums, so it's not a complete collection. Anyway, I played this cassette relentlessly, and I memorized it. Memorized it to a point that I got obsessed with it. Memorized it to a point that I can still sing the first line of the next song on the tape, in key, after the last song I hear, though without Ringo's songs it's not accurate to the song order on the vinyl, so I'll get some wrong if you go by the original song order. I remember, even back then, how I could annoy people with talking about The Beatles. Oh yes.
And realize this - I had no Internet. Easy 'footage' of The Beatles wasn't at my fingertips. It wasn't the cute lads that got me. It was the songs. Do you see what I mean? The SONGS, man. The MELODIES! The CHORD CHANGES!!!
And it's still the songs, you know, even at me ripe old age of 41. Though they were very cute lads, lol. And I still love them. Esp. John Lennon, dammit.
August 6, 2007
July 27, 2007
Remarkable Thing
A remarkable thing happened to me last night. I was in Spin Class and I had had a tiresome day at work; comptuer kept crashing, After Effects was being bitchy. I don't know what was up with that. It's usually quite stable. Anyway I went to Spin Class and it was an Inteval ride. That means that you do short intervals of high energy then you remove all of the resistance from the bike and try to lower your heart rate and recover. The last interval was a high resistance sprint and I just went for it.
For the first time, ever, I sweated drops off of my forehead and face onto the bike. I just don' t sweat like that, y'all. The instructors do. I really pushed myself and I think I found my 92% threshold, which was 174 beats a minute. I maintained that for about 20-30 seconds and had to back off the resistance. I could stick at 170 beats a minute OK, it was kickin my ass but I could keep doing it, so I think that is my 85% number.
It was an awesome thing to work like that, and an hour later I was still glowing from it.
I just wanted to share.
For the first time, ever, I sweated drops off of my forehead and face onto the bike. I just don' t sweat like that, y'all. The instructors do. I really pushed myself and I think I found my 92% threshold, which was 174 beats a minute. I maintained that for about 20-30 seconds and had to back off the resistance. I could stick at 170 beats a minute OK, it was kickin my ass but I could keep doing it, so I think that is my 85% number.
It was an awesome thing to work like that, and an hour later I was still glowing from it.
I just wanted to share.
July 25, 2007
Everything That Rises Must Reverb
Itty Bitty
Current mood: 
I am calling it Itty Bitty for two reasons. The first reason is that the words itty bitty make me laugh. The second is that I keep writing little pop songs. In major keys. Without any kind of 'seriousness' or 'heaviness'. It's just where I am in life right now I reckon. I also got a new (to me) 1980's Japanese strat to play with.
The things that I like to explore about songs are clever transitions (chord changes?) and writing appropriate and melodic solos.
One thing I am trying to not get hung up about is worrying that I'm making up something that is already a song, because it seems that part of every song is part of another song, kind of like "I Saw Her Standing There" is uh, inspired by "The Saints Come Marching In", and how many songs are based on Rhythm Changes (Summer Place, The Flintstones theme, and a plethora of others). The problem with this is I am hung up about it, I'm just trying not to be.
Other stuff - I am home from Ottawa, where I went to five days of kayak school on the Ottawa river. It was my vacation and it was awesome. I had never paddled five days in a row before. So I feel quite strong, lol.
I've been lifting weights three nights a week and doing a Spin class twice a week, and paddling on weekends. My hope is to get strong enough to do some flatwater tricks in my kayak. It's not common for women to do these sorts of tricks, because skill alone won't make it happen, you have to have some serious core ab strength. I'm also hoping to further along the process of de-belly-fication. Ontario is a very sparsly populated place. In Beachburg, which is where the whitewater sections of the Ottawa are, people ride their lawnmowers down the street to do errands, and the one restaurant in town sells 'Chinese and Canadian' food. I didn't go there, and wish I had. There are nearby towns with other places, particularly the delicious and cool Middle of Nowhere restaurant.
OK enough pictures of restaurants - the Ottawa is world-reknown for its big water, and here is me punching Sattlers Hole on McCoy's rapid. It was so big my brain would go into shock and I'd have the mantra, "Just don't think about it, just don't think about it" until I got to the bottom of the rapid, and the adrenaline would have me shaking. Oh man that ruled... anyway there was nothing hard about that line, I'm just not used to water that big.
Here's a beauty shot of the Ottawa. In between each rapid it's like a lake.
Here's another with some kayakers in it.
Whoo-hoo! Iron Ring Rapid!
One more - Lower No Name Rapid, this was a canoeists' line that the kayakers decided to take.
Tonight - roll practice at the lake, with the new kayak students. I wish I could roll as consistently as some of the people I've taught to roll! Kayaking is such a mental sport. Your attitude is a huge huge part of it, and your belief in your own abilites.
I've got to swap out boats as my Wavesport xxx is in my sister's garage, and I need it for the lake. Hey, that boat was all the rage in 99.
Well, I'm just meandering, so that's it for now.
June 26, 2007
letter
Yeah I know, people don't write letters anymore, they write emails or blogs. Still, it's something special to get a letter, on real paper.
What was that? Oh, I was going to tell you about what happened after I sent a letter that I regret sending, but in a way I don't, because I was telling the truth. Consider this - that much of civilization consists of not speaking how you really feel, unless you really feel positive about something. Feeling negative about something, or someone, and needing to vent, isn't polite. So I wasn't polite. Unfortunately I was cruel.
After I sent you the letter, lots of things have happened. First off, my father died of cancer. I have had my heart profoundly broken two more times. Then I had a serious episode where I should have snagged this hottie but he went off and got married to someone else. It is for the best because he did not appreciate my sense of humor. That's a way for me to say I could have sold him the brooklyn bridge, he was so gullible to my wiles. I need someone more cynical than that. So no I never did get married.
Nor will I! Unless he's a boater. Gotta be a boater. Well, a boater would be best. See, I started kayaking, and like Frost,
"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference"
I took a whitewater kayaking class, and fell in love. And it has taken the measure of me, and pitilessly... I have had two right shoulder dislocations and surgery thereon. I have been stuffed in an undercut and worked in a hole. I have felt fear I never thought possible to feel. It's amazingly alive, being in the moment as kayaking puts me. Like nothing else. It's THE BEST.
I know I know I get poetic about it. You rolling your eyes yet? That's fine. I'll always be intense.
Lessee, I also go caving. Caving is like being in a secret passageway in a fine old Victorian mansion. The passageway leads to a room filled with glittering jewels. There is much mystery in caves, and much comfort, too. I feel very comforted deep in a cave. There are bats and mud and water, tinkling waterfalls, quiet safe dark encompassing all, no light, no sound, the best peace there is. I think you might like it. But you have to get dirty to get to the best places.
I also go mountaineering. I'll describe that later.
What's needed here is a Quick summary - I rolled my truck on the interstate and walked away from it physically unscathed. This was less of an epiphanic moment than it deserves to be. You get really philosophical for awhile, then life gradually takes over and one day you're grousing over being out of peanut butter and other mundane things, just like you were before the wreck.
I work at the same place, I'm doing motion graphics and compositing on Avid DS. I wouldn't trade my job for any other except Lottery Winner or Rock Star.
My sister Kat survived breast cancer last year, she has had a double mastectomy and reconstruction.
I have vitiligo.
Oh by the way, of course I'm sorry.
I'm sorry for many reasons, but one of the major ones was when Kat got diagnosed. I don't want to read in the paper that you've died. I don't want to find that out from a website. It rips me apart to think of that. But on the other hand, there are plenty of people I never want to hear from or talk to again, and a couple that I will be quite happy to read their obits. People have their destinies, and only so much time. Why waste time on someone whose company you detest?
I was laughing with a friend about that, about how there is this certain woman that I'd like to call and say, "Listen you annoy the piss out of me and I really don't enjoy your company, nor do I want to talk to you after this, but are you doing ok?"
As this is a prerogative I enjoy, it is also your prerogative. So I don't expect a reply but it would be nice to get one. I didn't expect, or want, a reply to that last letter of course. I had kicked you to the proverbial curb.
Back to being sorry though - I am.
Another thing that happened was Shane dying in Little River Canyon. I have a PFD he sold me - my first - and I have a brilliant image of him in my mind in the Garage cafe when I told him I was taking the beginner kayak class, back in 99 - he said, "If you flip, try to roll up". He was a magnificent boater and a good friend. Several aquantiances of mine have also died in the past two years. It makes me wonder what I would say, if I could, to them if I had known the time left with them was so short.
So see, I wonder, because you come to mind rather often these days, and I have no idea why. Should I be concerned for you? Is this an omen? A sign? Are you in fact fine? Or is there something I could do to help? You, being a sensible woman, might laugh and say that we are worlds apart. But I remain concerned, for you, for unfathomable reasons, at least I haven't been able to probe them.
John Muir said, "When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the universe", and Leonardo Da Vinci said, "When you put your hand in a flowing stream, you touch the last that has gone before and the first of what is still to come." And John Lennon said, "I believe, yes I believe. More I cannot say. What more can I say?" And R Shackelford said, "I refuse to date a man with bigger breasts than mine." See, if I stack enough quotes in a row maybe you'll smile.
What was that? Oh, I was going to tell you about what happened after I sent a letter that I regret sending, but in a way I don't, because I was telling the truth. Consider this - that much of civilization consists of not speaking how you really feel, unless you really feel positive about something. Feeling negative about something, or someone, and needing to vent, isn't polite. So I wasn't polite. Unfortunately I was cruel.
After I sent you the letter, lots of things have happened. First off, my father died of cancer. I have had my heart profoundly broken two more times. Then I had a serious episode where I should have snagged this hottie but he went off and got married to someone else. It is for the best because he did not appreciate my sense of humor. That's a way for me to say I could have sold him the brooklyn bridge, he was so gullible to my wiles. I need someone more cynical than that. So no I never did get married.
Nor will I! Unless he's a boater. Gotta be a boater. Well, a boater would be best. See, I started kayaking, and like Frost,
"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference"
I took a whitewater kayaking class, and fell in love. And it has taken the measure of me, and pitilessly... I have had two right shoulder dislocations and surgery thereon. I have been stuffed in an undercut and worked in a hole. I have felt fear I never thought possible to feel. It's amazingly alive, being in the moment as kayaking puts me. Like nothing else. It's THE BEST.
I know I know I get poetic about it. You rolling your eyes yet? That's fine. I'll always be intense.
Lessee, I also go caving. Caving is like being in a secret passageway in a fine old Victorian mansion. The passageway leads to a room filled with glittering jewels. There is much mystery in caves, and much comfort, too. I feel very comforted deep in a cave. There are bats and mud and water, tinkling waterfalls, quiet safe dark encompassing all, no light, no sound, the best peace there is. I think you might like it. But you have to get dirty to get to the best places.
I also go mountaineering. I'll describe that later.
What's needed here is a Quick summary - I rolled my truck on the interstate and walked away from it physically unscathed. This was less of an epiphanic moment than it deserves to be. You get really philosophical for awhile, then life gradually takes over and one day you're grousing over being out of peanut butter and other mundane things, just like you were before the wreck.
I work at the same place, I'm doing motion graphics and compositing on Avid DS. I wouldn't trade my job for any other except Lottery Winner or Rock Star.
My sister Kat survived breast cancer last year, she has had a double mastectomy and reconstruction.
I have vitiligo.
Oh by the way, of course I'm sorry.
I'm sorry for many reasons, but one of the major ones was when Kat got diagnosed. I don't want to read in the paper that you've died. I don't want to find that out from a website. It rips me apart to think of that. But on the other hand, there are plenty of people I never want to hear from or talk to again, and a couple that I will be quite happy to read their obits. People have their destinies, and only so much time. Why waste time on someone whose company you detest?
I was laughing with a friend about that, about how there is this certain woman that I'd like to call and say, "Listen you annoy the piss out of me and I really don't enjoy your company, nor do I want to talk to you after this, but are you doing ok?"
As this is a prerogative I enjoy, it is also your prerogative. So I don't expect a reply but it would be nice to get one. I didn't expect, or want, a reply to that last letter of course. I had kicked you to the proverbial curb.
Back to being sorry though - I am.
Another thing that happened was Shane dying in Little River Canyon. I have a PFD he sold me - my first - and I have a brilliant image of him in my mind in the Garage cafe when I told him I was taking the beginner kayak class, back in 99 - he said, "If you flip, try to roll up". He was a magnificent boater and a good friend. Several aquantiances of mine have also died in the past two years. It makes me wonder what I would say, if I could, to them if I had known the time left with them was so short.
So see, I wonder, because you come to mind rather often these days, and I have no idea why. Should I be concerned for you? Is this an omen? A sign? Are you in fact fine? Or is there something I could do to help? You, being a sensible woman, might laugh and say that we are worlds apart. But I remain concerned, for you, for unfathomable reasons, at least I haven't been able to probe them.
John Muir said, "When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the universe", and Leonardo Da Vinci said, "When you put your hand in a flowing stream, you touch the last that has gone before and the first of what is still to come." And John Lennon said, "I believe, yes I believe. More I cannot say. What more can I say?" And R Shackelford said, "I refuse to date a man with bigger breasts than mine." See, if I stack enough quotes in a row maybe you'll smile.
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