A Paddling City
(or "I don't get why people don't get it")

by Elmore Holmes
May, 2004

     From the feedback I've received, I've learned that people all over the place read this column--people all over the U.S., and maybe even an international or two.  I'm flattered by and grateful for your interest, and I hope you will excuse me if I take a moment to address my fellow citizens here in good old Memphis, Tennessee.
     These folks need to meet my alter ego.  His name is Irritable Elmore, alias the Crass Curmudgeon, a.k.a. Hissy-Fit Holmes.
     And here's his greatest pet-peeve: "There's no paddling around Memphis."
     No place to paddle in the Memphis area?
     What on earth are you talking about?
     The biggest river in North America flows right past our downtown, just a short drive (or even bike ride) for most of us.  And we've got smaller, more intimate stuff, too: the Ghost Section of the Wolf River; the scenic Hatchie River; the Big Sunflower River; Patriot Lake; Reelfoot Lake… I could go on and on.
     I take exception to the attitude that paddling is something the Memphian must go someplace else to do.
     Am I saying that Memphians should paddle only here at home, and never go anyplace else?
Elmore's columns appear monthly at the
Outdoors, Inc.,website:
www.outdoorsinc.com
     Of course not.  The Gulf Coast, the Pacific Coast, the Atlantic, the Great Lakes--each of these places offers its own unique beauty, and I encourage every paddler to avail himself of the richest experiences out there.
     But developing the skill level to take on these experiences starts at home, and for us Memphians, that means the Mississippi River and its tributaries.  The paddler who practices daily here at home can travel anywhere in the world and immerse himself in unfamiliar waters without hesitation.  He might come to like the water here at home, if he's not careful.
     Now, I know exactly what's coming: "But what about us whitewater boaters?"
     I'm thinking about you guys, too.
     I am well aware that whitewater is scarce in the Mid South.  I myself have, on occasion, shaken my fist at the heavens and uttered a curse on the infuriatingly low gradient of our rivers.  Those who wish to paddle whitewater must drive three hours or more from Memphis to find it.  I certainly find no fault in them for doing so; in fact I encourage them to do so, just like I encourage the touring crowd to spread their wings beyond this region.  But should the whitewater paddler simply disregard the water bodies here at home?
     Only if he's not serious about getting good.
     When I started racing slalom a decade ago, experienced racers I knew recommended a number of drills and workouts I could do on flatwater here at home.
     I was a little dubious.  I remember thinking, "How can I practice whitewater moves without eddies and waves and holes?"
     But I forged ahead with the suggested drills, and soon began to realize the benefits.  Through simple stroke drills, I learned balance, timing, and control of certain "hull kinesthetics"--working my edges to snap tight turns, and stuff like that.  Setting specific gate combinations enabled me to mimic moves that I would encounter in races on moving water.  I concentrated hard on things that an athlete training full-time on whitewater might overlook: boat glide, for instance, and covering maximun distance in my boat on a minimum number of strokes.
     Would I have become a better slalom racer if I had moved someplace where whitewater (and coaching) was more accessible?  I reckon so.  There's a reason, after all, that the top national team athletes do that.  But that's really beside the point.
     The point is that I achieved a modicum of respectability in slalom, and became a better-than-average whitewater boater, by paddling daily and working on the little things here on my home water.  And I don't feel that my whitewater skills have atrophied that much even though I've done less whitewater and more open water/marathon paddling in recent years.  One of the few whitewater river runs I did last year was the Rocky Broad River in North Carolina, a difficult run of the steep-creek variety.  I might have been a little rusty at first, but I never felt I was in over my head.  And the reason was that I had been paddling regularly here in the swampy Mid South, keeping my body in tune with being in a boat on the water.
     Few people seem to regard Memphis as a "paddling city," least of all Memphians themselves.  But I see absolutely no reason that should be.  Rather than contribute to the negative attitude toward our lakes and rivers, we paddlers need to lead by example.  At worst, we will become better, more fit paddlers.  At best, we will bring about a day when the general public considers paddling a boat just as viable an exercise as riding a bike or going to the gym.  Let's not underestimate our power.
 
 

Click here to return to the Paddling Page