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SW


STANDINGWAVES


THE NEW NORMAL


A handful of events over the past two summers hint that something has changed in the paddling world. Consider this: Record high flows on a definitive class V—Idaho’s North


Fork of the Payette—brought a stampede of paddlers in June 2010. The Grand Canyon of the Stikine in northern B.C.—oft-touted as whitewater’s multi-day equivalent to Mount Everest—hosted over half a dozen descents in the last two seasons. This on a river that for three decades witnessed only one or two attempts per year. One 2010 team ran the 60-mile canyon in just six and a half hours. The most telling indicator may be a feat accomplished last fall. Two pad-


dlers knocked off the elusive Triple Crown of the Susitna, Alsek and Sti- kine—career-defining rivers and lifetime achievements each—in a measly three weeks, and on somewhat of a whim. Combine this with a kayak wa- terfall record that stands at nearly 190 feet. Rock climbing historians point to one particular rock face as the ba-


rometer of their sport: Amid the iconic granite domes and towering falls of Yosemite National Park lies the world’s most famous big-wall climb, El Capitan. Towering 3,000 feet over the valley floor, the Nose route ascends right up the center of the face—audacious, intimidating and committing. When first climbed in 1958 it took the three-man team 47 days of moving


up and down the glacier-polished granite to figure out the puzzle. The final push consisted of 12 consecutive days living on the wall. It was hailed as


12 RAPID SUMMER/FALL 2011


WHAT HAPPENS WHEN EXTREME BECOMES EVERYDAY


the equivalent of summiting Everest, and indeed the media attention put climbing into the mainstream and ushered in a new era. In 1975, 17 years later, the Nose was climbed in one day. In 2008 it was


speed climbed in just two hours and 37 minutes. I don’t think we on the river have one such arena to capture the develop-


ment of our sport. There are specific events, though, that have marked important changes. One such was the French Roll. It was the summer of ’93, short boats


were new and freestyle was called rodeo (how embarrassing). The French slalom team, fresh off a World Cup event in Minden, Ontario, visited the famed big water of the nearby Ottawa River. Speeding through Horseshoe Rapid, one French slalomist launched off the wave, tucked forward and barrel-rolled in mid air. He landed upright and paddled away downstream. Sitting in the eddy, the rodeo dudes looked at each other wide-eyed.


Did you see that? It was the beginning of the aerial era and what is now modern freestyle. It is dangerous to attribute an evolutionary process to a single event. A


lone barrel roll does not a movement make, just as the one-day climb of the Nose in 1975 was not an isolated incident. In hindsight, though, these events highlight how popular thinking can change. The legendary runs knocked off last year point to a new way of thinking. Expectation, consequence and normal seem to have been—or are be-


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