My previous posts have all been about professional and collegiate sports - the Steelers, Pirates, Penn State and Pittsburgh. But this post gets to one of my favorite things to write about - the trials, tribulations and oddities of whitewater kayaking trips. So, the fabled "first trip of the year." This is the time, when you've not gone to any winter-time pool rolling practice sessions, that you see how much you've actually forgotten. It's also the time that you look at the two boats that you have - the small yellow one that's in my avatar picture, or the big red one that's my "creeking" boat (big water/steep creek boat). As you sit there deciding, you happen to look down at the ever-expanding bulge at your waist. With a quiet curse, you bemoan the fact you've sat on your butt far too long this winter. You grab the "fat" boat because you know you'll be more of a submarine in your smaller playboat. Then comes the time to select clothing. First, you walk into your bedroom and closet, searching for the spot where your wife put your swim trunks. After spending 20 minutes searching in vain, you throw up your hands, knowing you have some other pants you typically wear beneath the cold weather gear and decide to go with that. You get your cold-weather gear like pogies for your paddle, and your head warmer. Take the large, heavy drysuit off of the wall with a sigh, knowing that the rubber neck gasket has certainly tightened from disuse, and knowing the moment you put that damn thing on that the air flow to your head is all but cut off. Pack the truck with the rest of the stuff - the PFD, helmet, spray skirt and paddle, and leave. Realize you've forgotten key elements. Go back to house. Spend another ten minutes still searching for the damn swim trunks before you give up and decide to ask your wife where the hell she put them the last time she did a big cleaning. Get the stuff you forgot. Drive to the putin. Fight to find a place to park. Take 2 minutes to stuff your leg into the dry suit, including putting your feet into the latex booties at the bottom. Repeat with other leg. Hop up and down pulling the waist of the dry suit around yours. Notice how fat you've gotten again - swear you'll start working out...tomorrow. Put gear into other truck for ride to the put on. Wince when driver takes the harder put on - requiring a Class IV walk down a muddy, slippery slope to the river's edge all to avoid padding about a 1/2 mile of flatwater. Proceed to put rest of dry suit on. Slip arms into sleeves. Stand there looking foolish with arms pinned at sides, unable to get suit to slide up over your shoulders. Ask for assistance. Spend another minute or two trying to stick your head into the narrow gasket. Moan when head gets stuck in tight rubber neck gasket, grunt and finally stick head through opening. Begin gasping for breath when tight rubber kills blood circulation to head and constricts breathing. Wonder - not for the first time - what in the hell you're doing attempting to kayak on the first warm day of March. Zip up dry suit. Feel sweat form on lower back from layers of warm clothing and dry suit. Loosen PFD, attempt to put on. Take PFD off, loosen again. Curse lack of exercise over winter. Finally stuff self into PFD and tighten...only a scad. Put on rest of stuff, and hoof boat down to river's edge. At river's edge, spend 30 seconds catching breath. Wonder why you didn't workout over the winter? Require assistance to get spray skirt on boat. Slide into water. Do a ferry, realizing you feel very tippy and out of control in the boat. Watch paddling partner roll over and come up wincing. Water is cold. At first rapid, surf wave and work on ferries. Tighten back brace several times, trying to get more securely in boat. Run first major rapid. Hit eddy on left, sigh with relief. All, evidently, is not totally forgotten. Then, try to ferry across Class II current to other side, miss and have to run remaining rapid. Sigh - all is evidently forgotten. Cannot turn head more than 5 degrees to either side due to extremely tight neck gasket. Upper body feels far too constricted, and navigating next couple of rapids is made difficult do to working to paddle, and working to loosen body in tight clothing. Miss several more eddies and shake head in shame. Call self "fat bastard" about nine times through rapid, watching as easily makeable eddies are missed. In flat water, before last rapid before mandatory portgage, decide to show off. Attempt to do a trick normally done only in playboat. Miss terribly, and flip over. COLD COLD COLD COLD COLD! Set up (far too quickly and very badly) for roll. Get head just above water - carp like beginner for air. Crash back under water. set up and roll with power. Almost...almost...just quite...yeah...that's it...no...no! NO! *DAMMIT* Back under water, set up and badly miss 3rd roll. Swim into cold water. Watch as heart escapes chest and runs across the top of the water to the river's edge, where it watches your pathetic attempts to swim to shore while scolding you all the while. Get to river's edge, allow heart back into chest. Gasp for air, as lungs are screaming for oxygen. Empty water from boat, run last rapid. Portgage. Spend 5 minutes chaning bulkhead location in boat. Eat part of an orange. Haul boat to river's edge and put in. Curse self for not checking bulkhead before starting out. Feel far more comfortable. Move to hit easy eddy. Miss. Drop head in shame. Run remaining rapids hoping to catch eddies, missing nearly every one. Refuse to roll over again, fearing another miss & swim. Get to the end of the run, feeling tired but happy, laughing at self for screwing around in flatwater and swimming. Get to truck. Spend 5 minutes getting out of dry suit. Acknowledge people walking past looking at the fat kid attempting to get out of constricting clothing. Promise the river gods, mother nature and all other gods that may or may not have an interest in me that I will start my workout program and lose the belly fat I've gained over winter. Resolve to start tomorrow. All in all, it was a nice start to a kayaking season!