Rivers for Change

The non-profit I'm forming Rivers for Change is currently working on a campaign to paddle 12 critical California watersheds from Source to Sea in 2012. I'm living and breathing this at the moment. You can check it out at www.riversforchange.org

Paddle to the Sea Summary

I greeted the Tuolumne for the first time at Turlock State Park at Sunset. The last orange hues of the day glowed on this little river pushing at its bank, swirling through the Willows, slightly muddied by its high spring water levels. Little did I know about the frothy Wild and Scenic Whitewater section above, the long paddle across Don Pedro Reservoir, the incredible wildlife, or the vastness of the 100 mile paddle through the Delta.

Over the next 3 weeks I would gain an intimate appreciation for this watershed, the wonderful people who came out to paddle, and the amazing work TRT does to vocalize the rivers needs.

From it's infancy to it's rebirth at the sea, traveling down an entire river creates a unique perspective that imprints in ones soul just how precious a resource it is, and how much it has been changed and influenced by man. Watching a river absorb the effects of human disdain may be disheartening to some, but the most inspirational finding for me about the Tuolumne, like so many other watersheds that have had their challenges, is that it is actually a symbol of hope.

It is a symbol of hope that even after being diverted and levied, dammed, and trashed there is a river teeming with wildlife, ready and waiting to flourish within its banks once more. Salmon, Beaver, Herons, Egrets, Hawks all hovering on the outskirts of an opportunity to make a little piece of heaven their home.

And that inspiration can carry one across the longest stretches of water, through wind and rain, through 12hour paddling days, and right onto the doorstep of a future filled with a vibrant and healthy watershed for all.

Paddle to the Sea

As the adventures in my life continue to unfold in majestic and mysterious ways, I have come across a unique opportunity in May, to participate in a Paddle-A-Thon with the Tuolumne River Trust. As you may know in 2009 I kayaked down the length of the Mississippi River, which gave me an intimate appreciation of what it's really like to get to know a river. From it's infancy to it's rebirth at the sea, traveling down a watershed creates a unique perspective of just how precious a resource it is, and how much it has been changed and influenced by man.

This time my hope is to learn about the Tuolumne River, a key water supplier for the Bay Area, threatened by pollution and overuse. As a Core Paddler working my way down the entire river, my aim is to raise at least $1000 for the Trust. With the help of you and 199 other friends :-) I can easily reach that goal and beyond. I'm asking for sustainable donations of $5, $10, $15 (or more if you're so able). For the simple price of replacing your caffeine buzz for the day you can ride high on the feeling that you're supporting a good cause! The Tuolumne River Trust has been working since 1981 for the protection of this river and all funds raised through this Paddle-A-Thon will go directly to supporting TRT's work to

* Save the salmon

* Promote water conservation

* Train the next generation of river stewards by connecting kids and communities to the river.

You can click on the link below to donate (and make me and the critters that live on the river very happy campers). Do it now, and feel the immediate gratification of that oh so good feeling of giving to a good cause! I swear it's an instant high. :)

http://www.paddletothesea.org/paddle/participantpage.asp?uid=3004&fundid=1658

Or if you are in the Bay Area and would like to join us on the river for a paddle day or event, you can find out more at

http://www.paddletothesea.org/paddle/about.asp

With gratitude and love for your support,

Danielle

A hearty thank you

Here I am trying to wrap up my last trip before heading off on my next adventure to New Zealand and Australia for a few months. I realize I haven’t been in the same place for more then 10 days since May, and this following week and a half will be the maximum amount of days spent in one place until at least Feb. Ah the life of the nomad!

As I still try to wrap my brain around the fact that I did in fact paddle 2,300 miles down a river the main thing that keeps popping into my head about the journey is just how much gratitude I have to the many people helped make this journey possible. And so my thank you begins....

To my friends and family for their endless understanding and support as I once more disappeared from the face of the planet for an undetermined amount of time and embraced me wholeheartedly upon my return.

Thank you to Crystal Head Vodka for helping to fund the expedition. And to our gear sponsors: Mtn Hardwear, Kokatat, Bending Branches, Aqua Bound, Patagonia, Pacific Outdoor Equipment, Gaia, Snap Dragon, Native, Otterbox, GoPro, Pure Organics, Macro Life Naturals, Yoga tune up, Icom, Rite in the Rain, and Hurricane. These companies helped make our trip a breeze with their quality gear, and there’s no way we would have made it downstream for 102 days through the sun, and the bugs, the thunderstorms, and the long days on the river without them.

To the people who hosted us, showered us, feed us, and transported us along the way. Your generosity and hospitality continues to overwhelm me. I would like to personally thank the following people: Betty and Gordon, Neil and Laura, Mark and BSU, Terry, Camp Unistar, Jerrie, Sandy, Cindy, Dave, Shannon, Dennis, George and Patty, Jessie, Anne and Ralph, Forever Ice Cream, Tom, Dan and Lisa, Gail, Dave, Adam, Diane, Barrett and Peggy, Michael, Valerie, Matt and Kim, and of course to Mr. Donnie Hall who did so much to ensure our safety the whole way down.

There are countless more. People we met on beaches, in boats, in campgrounds, and on city streets. If I missed your name, please forgive my lagging memory, and please don’t hesitate to remind me ☺

So I thank you, and you, and you too over there in the corner, for your generosity of support. And don’t forget to continue to think a little about (and perhaps even get someone else to think about :) how water plays a role in your life and your world.

If you’d like to stay in touch please feel free to find me on facebook or twitter, through one of my websites, my not so up to date blog (which might one day be up to date with my latest adventures), or just by plain and simple email. I would love to hear from you.

http://www.facebook.com/people/Danielle-Katz/671098929
http://www.twitter.com/riverkatz
http://www.daniellekatz.com
http://www.daniellekatz.massagetherapy.com
http://daniellekatz.blogspot.com/
I have a lot of email accounts, they all go to the same place, try not to get too confused-they’re all still me ☺

I hope you enjoyed following our trip, I very much enjoyed your support along the way!
May you continue to go with the flow,
Danielle

Mississippi '09 Quick Edit of DK's pics

Click here to view these pictures larger

The Rhythm of the River

Our daily routine, wake, eat, pack, paddle, eat, paddle, unpack, eat, sleep has swept over me. Life on the Mississippi has encompassed my body and soul. I awake in the morning to the sound of birds and emerge from my tent to a bowl of steaming gruel (oatmeal, or 10 grain, and on special mornings Brian's amazing pancakes). We pack our belongings and begin our journey downstream, several bald eagles grace us with their presence, deer hidden in the grasses either stand perfectly still or run snorting loudly in warning as we disrupt their peaceful grazing. We pass turtles sliding into the muddy river, hear the sound of beaver slaps, and watch as muskrats swim before us. We observe the loons, the crazy loons with their cackling laugh, their beaks shuttering in reverberations as they dive through the water.

 

We paddle onwards, over the rice grass, under trees, around rocks, through lakes, and under clouds. The wind, the rain, and the sun pass over us. There is a feeling I get 30 minutes into paddling, when the creaks from the night before fade away and the ache of hour six in the boat has yet to hit. A feeling where I become one with the water, with my boat, with my paddle. My body moves with efficient ease and I am enraptured in the moment of now.

 

It is only later, several hours into paddling when the mind begins to wander away from the present, when the thoughts start hovering like vultures, circling and waiting for the grips of boredom to take hold before swooping down that it gets dangerous. That's about the time I paddle up to Brian and ask him to tell me a story. He complies most of the time :) and recites Robert Service poems or tells fantastical tales of the Boy Who Kayaked Around the World or the King who Hoarded Gold. When the stories do not come, the philosophical discussions begin, and when the conversations run dry, I return to the moment of studying the details of the surrounding scenery. My saving grace on a few of our longer days has been my IPod. Escapism at it's utmost, an out of body experience of sorts as I remove myself from the surrounding landscape, into an alternate reality, rocking out in a kayak shut out from the experience of what is going on around me...but it does save you from the Vultures.

 

Boredom is not a familiar feeling to me, there is always something to do in my "normal" life and it is rather an interesting experience to explore, to ponder it's existence and it's formation, but alas I digress...

 

Lunch appears on a gravel bank or a small beach and as I have taken on the role of Lunch Lady I enthusiastically spread Peanut Butter (too much for the boys) and Jam (too little) on bagels before handing them out. Sometimes we have Hummus on tortillas. We get back in our boats and fight off the post lunch siesta that calls to us. Blinking slowly, hoping that our boats stay straight if we just close our eyes for a moment....

 

We joke that we know we've reached camp if there's mud, mosquitoes, a steep bank, and it starts to rain. The weather this year is unusually cool and wet which I am grateful for. It creates good paddling weather-no overheating, no fear of dehydration and in my mind assists in lowering the bug count by a few degrees (helping to prevent us from being forced into hysterics like migrating Caribou gone crazy from the harassment of the Mosquito). Our camps, while mostly accessible only by river or ATV, are almost always within ear shot of a road and I find it strange to be in the "wilderness" while a parallel universe of civilization exists within a stone's throw.

 

At dinner, (usually an ethnic feast created by Brian-a veggie curry, or other deliciously spiced assortment of carrots, onions, potatoes layered into a bed of Quinoa, rice, or ramen) we eat our fill. Tonight (Day 13-Scott's Rapid and one of my favorite) a soft mist enshrouds the river as it flows through the remaining patches of gleaming sunlight. I sit on a rock and a swarm of gnats tickle at my nose. I consume the rice and curry, ravenous after a long days paddle. The smell of citronella wafts from behind my ears and wrists, it's one of the first evenings I have not shrouded myself in my mosquito veil.

 

The following morning the air sends a slight chill and when the wind blows it showers down large pellets of water remnant from the previous evenings rain. The leaves are an iridescent green and I wonder at the majesty of what it must look like when the fall colors hit.

 

I must be hungry today for I consume a second helping of 10 grain cereal. It is usually a struggle for Brian to get us to finish the heaping portions of deliciousness he creates. I have a secret feeling he's trying to fatten Kevin and I up only to slaughter us one night in our sleep and sell us on the black market. I hear fattened Kayakers bring in a hefty price :) This morning I attribute my appetite to the cold. My body's essential survival need to stockpile for the coming winter arising.

 

I run my fingers over the hardened blisters on my hands and smile. Onwards we go....

 

The river flows by, muddied by the erosion of cows and industry. This is not the pristine little brook we started down, through the meandering paths of rice grass. The quality, the temperament of this water has changed, it has begun to age, and like my own maturation I look forward to observing the evolution of myself and the river and the river within myself as we traverse toward the Gulf.

The first 60 miles!

We have completed the first 60 miles! It is an accomplishment in itself that we were able to complete it within the time frame of the three days which we set for ourselves given that everyone warned us it would take twice as long as we originally planned. I am thrilled to discover that while a 10.5 hr river day is a long one, it is by far not a stretch beyond limits of body or mind.  The fact that we were able to go 31 miles in a day with very little current helping us along, reinforces that we'll be able to put in the miles we need to downstream.

 

7/20 Lake Itasca- a crowd gathered around our brightly colored kayaks and piles of dry bags-wondering about the strange phenomenon of people about to get on a river no deeper then one's knee. Some people asked immediately, are you going to the Gulf? Others were astounded "my that's a long way!"  Like puppies on a leash we began guiding our kayaks this way and that down the shallows. People gathered at a bridge overhead and applause broke out in support. I felt like I was on a stage once more and the echoing claps filled my heart with gratitude. Down we went, in and out of our boats, around rocks, over trees. At lunch the looming clouds spoke of rain and I smiled at the coming adventure. After our PB&J on bagels (our staple lunch for the next few days) we put on our Kokatat paddling jackets and headed into the coming storm. Through the winding wetlands of rice grass and reeds we paddled. The heavens opened and poured out their greeting. I laughed with wonder as the drops pelted down into the water below, reunited once more with their cousins. Onwards we went, through alternating shallows and wetlands.

 

We arrived at camp and emerged from our boats like soggy dogs, the rain had subsided and into dry clothes and a meal of Mac and Cheese (the first of many I believe) we dove. Cramming into Kevin's tent to escape the hoards of mosquitoes. There's a sign at the headwaters that describes the beasts as "voracious long-billed and dyspeptic musketoes" and it sums them up perfectly. The following day was clear and thankfully cool as we once more launched into wetland after wetland. The river shifts and turns and doubles back on itself, contouring itself in endless loops. Blue Heron, Muskrat, Turtles, a Bald Eagle, osprey, deer. We are in their land and it is beautiful!

 

We missed our first campsite choice for the night and unknowingly entered into another 7 mile stretch of wetland. On we paddled and arrived at the next camp. A swarm of canoe campers were settling into their campfire of hot chocolate and smores and graciously shared the site with us. The mosquitoes were out in full force once more and I am now paying the price in pure itchiness. I don't think I can count the number of bites I have, but let's just say that copious amounts of bug spray do very little to deter them.

 

Our long 2nd day, made for an easy 15 miles (after winding our way through a thicket of one downed tree after another) and we rolled into Bemidji around 4 pm. A shower, a restful night of sleep, a little repacking of gear and we'll be off once more, across Lake Bemidji and onto the next 2,440 miles! It feels strange to be at a computer after only 3 days of  being out on the river, but the adventure awaits. Minus a few blisters, bruises, and bites I'm itching (no pun intended:) to just start paddling once more!