Slalom on the River Frome - Getting out of the Armchair and into the Canoe

Academic philosophy (or the 'brick philosophy' I talked about in my first post) is all about thinking about stuff. Then trying to explain and develop that stuff into some sort of clear idea or theory. There is not much else to do other than sit there and think, and this is why it is also sometimes called 'Armchair Philosophy'. However, other philosophies such as Zen Buddhism, Taoism, and Existentialism (aka 'flow philosophies', see the first post) require us to attend to much more than just our thinking minds. They need to us attend to our environments, personal experiences, and feelings as well. They need us to do things and live life. They need us to get out of the armchair.

So in the spirit of doing and not just thinking philosophy, I thought it would be fun to share some of my experiences and how they attribute to my philosophical reflections. I can think of no better way to do this than to embrace the flowing river theme (see first post) and talk about one of my greatest passions: canoeing. This is a hobby with many many aspects on which to ponder: wonderful locations, different types of boat and paddle, techniques, skills, safety, river levels, weather conditions, rapids, flat water, fast water, slow water, swimming, rocks, trees, river access, kit, nature, fish, birds... The list goes on and on. But the most significant of these is one that brings many of us back to the bank time and time again: it feels good. Canoeing has a very special way of improving on our wellbeing, which is another topic I will focus (blog post to come!).

So, last weekend I had a very new river experience: slalom racing on the Frome (rhymes with broom). The location was idyllic. This section of the river flowed around two largish grass islands (one used for parking, the other for camping pre-covid) with its banks decorated with the usual trees, nettles, and long grasses. On any other day it would have been perfect for quiet mediation get-a-way, but today it was dotted with the plastic and garish colours that signal' the canoeists are here!'. Slalom, however, is also a very serious sporting event so there was also some very cool and sleek kit around too. My own borrowed kit was a combination of both: lime-green helmet that was slightly too big, standard-issue red club BA, black shriveled spraydeck accompanied by a very cool white slalom kayak with a red dragon motif (thank you James!).

The main event took place on the water down the side of the top island where the Frome looked like an upscaled babbling brook. Above the water hung the parallel poles that represented the gates that the boats had to pass through in order to complete the slalom course. Green for passing through them downstream and red for up. Gate's 1-12 took you from the top of the island to the bottom where you then diverted by a rush of water that pushed you under the bridge that connected the two islands and spat you out through gate 15 and into the wider still water that made up the other side of the island. Gate's 16 and 17 were red and placed in such a way that forced the paddler to make a figure of eight in the final barrier of churned-up water before dashing through the final gate 18 to the finish line. Easy.

At least that's what I thought. Frome comes from a Celtic word that means 'fair, fine, brisk’ (see wiki entry for River Frome). The course, although 'brisk', looked 'fair' and 'fine'. However, once my boat was on the water I found the Frome to be about three times more 'brisk' than it was 'fair' or 'fine'*. I had assumed it was going to be the red gates that I would struggle with because you have to make the effort to paddle upstream to go through them. In the end, they turned out most to be the most fun because most of them are placed conveniently above the 'eddies' (places where the current makes a small whirlpool which is still in the centre). So catching these required some clever river-reading and use of the dramatic changes in water flow to turn the boat. The experienced paddlers had this down to an art form and could complete a red gate with very few strokes.

A smile after a successful red gate

It was getting through the green gates that the Brisk Frome made difficult for me, the water moving too quickly for me to make the necessary adjustments to make sure I would pass in between the poles. Several times I would end up just on the wrong side of a pole powerless to slide the boat into a position on the other side. Some slalom paddlers remedied this by moving their body so that their head and shoulders went through the gate even though their boat did not. I was too afraid to try this as it seemed too likely that I would take a pole to the face. Unfortunately, missing gates is devastating to getting a good time in slalom. It took me about 130-140 seconds to get down the course, but I received a 50-second penalty for every gate I missed. So in the three attempts, I had at the course I quickly learned to paddle back upstream and try the gate again, adding only a few seconds to the time. Alas, on all of my runs I still missed one green gate making my best time about 202 seconds (5th, out of 6 paddlers, in the womens K1 Div 4). On reflection I could have risked my face, I would have received a bruise, but you only get 2-second penalties for touching the poles.

Most river activities are very much 'go with the flow' experiences. You get on at some point, bumble downstream, and get off. Slalom, however, requires you to really get 'stuck in' and impose yourself on the flow and often 'go against it. The course I did on the Frome is suitable for divisions 3 and 4. Courses for the higher divisions involve much faster white-water. The difference between a babbling brook and the deluge after a storm. If you send the usual white-water-paddler over the storm deluge their instinct is to find the fastest or most fun downstream line and stick to it. Reaching the bottom the right way up is considered a success**. Comparably, the slalom-paddler is constantly breaking in and out of the flow and spinning around in eddies (without touching the poles!) in order to get the points required for their race. Often you will also see them putting huge amounts of effort into paddle against the fast flow.

The two methods of dealing with this is certainly is representative of ways of living life. Many of us like to think of ourselves as the white-water-paddler who can just 'let go' and tumble downstream looking super-chill whilst we do it. We are not the type of people who "constantly paddle upstream" whilst a force of nature constantly pounds against us in the opposite direction. We realise how futile this is, so we are willing to break out into the current and just 'go with the flow of life'. As long as we stay upright, everything will be ok! But to be honest, I think most of us, in the end, are behaving much more like the poor slalom paddler. Dashing over the flow, spinning around in eddies, and trying to get gates in order to win some sort of pointless life race.

Except I think there is a lot more to the slalom-paddler's method. Yes, they are stuck in some sort of game on just that one section of water, but I think it would be unfair to say they are helplessly fighting a force of nature. Slalom requires the paddler to really interact with and know how the water behaves. And a good paddler can use this knowledge and skill to their own advantage. As I mentioned above, the experienced slalom paddlers could get through the red gates with far less effort than I could. Perhaps it is more appropriate to say that slalom paddler plays with a force of nature, rather than impose themselves upon it? The gates are just a way of making this game more challenging, more daring, and more fun? And since there is no doubt that we are all stuck inside this 'game of life' there may be something quite valuable for all of us to learn from slalom.

I guess this would be a question for the paddlers who are really into their slalom - and can perhaps compare to their experiences as white-water paddlers too. I would love to hear your opinions (feel free to comment below!).

*I had entered the event on the second day. On the first day, it sounds like the Frome was so 'brisk' and had completely dropped the 'fair' and 'fine' from its name. The water levels had been much higher from rainfall and many paddlers had ended up swimming!

**I should point out that many white water kayakers will do more on their river outings than just paddle downstream. They will interact with the water and 'play' with the water too! See (and subscribe) to this youtube channel by some paddle-pals of mine: RIVER RASCALS