If you go down to Jamaica State Park on the first weekend of October and sit on a large rock that juts out into the West River, you can watch a group of seemingly foolhardy people in brave little plastic kayaks bob and weave through the whitewater. The forum is wild. The raging water roars over the rocks with the sound of ceaseless, frenzied applause. A breeze, created by the cold, rapid flow shakes the leaves on tree branches that lean out over the river. The boats seems small, with boaters stuffed in them like so many feet in stubbly little Dutch clogs—upper bodies sticking out of the top with no sign of legs below, making the boat seem like an appendage. Not all of the boats are small, some are longer than others, but all are colorful—reds, blues, yellow and green, as are the boater’s outfits, wetsuits, slickers, helmets, and life vests. Men, women and some children make up this colorful flotilla. The one thing they all have in common is wide grins on all faces. It is clearly great fun to thread a kayak through swiftly running water. Read more…
-Betsy Shaw Mackenzie