Thursday 19 March 2009

Zen and the Art of Extreme White Water



Personally, I'm not much of a white water kayaker. Bobbling down French rivers with a bottle of wine and a slightly damp baguette is about as far as it goes for me.

So as you might imagine, it was all a bit of a surprise to find myself at a lecture by white water kayaker Doug Ammons the other day. I assumed it would be an adrenaline junkie's wet dream, just something to while away a pleasant hour or so. How wrong could I be?

We piled into the lecture theatre, a group of folk neatly split into two halves: the young adrenaline junkies and the older ones with beards, wearing fleeces with a history. As Doug started to speak, it became immediately obvious that this was going to be a very rare gem of a talk, and about as far removed from my expectations as his kayaking experience was to mine.

It's difficult to know where to start describing what Doug's talk was about. Sure, we watched as Doug and his friends kayaked the steepest, most committing Grade VI rivers in the world. Sure, he had pushed the boundaries of his sport in a way very few are privileged to know or understand. But this was only a part of it. What came across was a sense of knowing what it was about on a much deeper level. How the ultimate achievement couldn't be counted with grades, or with first descents. What mattered was being at one with the greater forces of nature, and that this outward journey made possible an inner journey with an unparalleled opportunity for change. Down this deep, there were similarities between these ideas and many other forms of spirituality, eastern philosophies, martial arts.

After the talk finished, I felt like a hand grenade had gone off in my head. In a good way.

But it all left me with a raft of questions. Had anyone else sensed such incredible clarity and depth of of thought, inspiration? I've since asked everyone I know who also saw Doug speak, and very few seemed to be willing to talk about it. I looked on the kayakers' discussion group on the net. There were a few comments about the lecture theatre's sound system, the quality of the photographs, the general facilities, the seats. But nothing about the ideas.

In a copy of his book, Whitewater Philosophy, Doug wrote:

Rhiannon
I hope you find these ideas as interesting as me and keep developing your own.
Doug

4 comments:

duncan said...

I love this post, especially when you talk of how moved you were & then finding discussions focussing on the sound system in a review..that made me chuckle:) I think pushing personal bounderies, at whatever level, forces us out of our selves & requires re-evaluation. Understanding ourselves & our environment, engaging & developing a relationship with the challenge, I think, reduces fear, induces 'flow'or peak experience. Another book I'd like to read! Loved what he wrote to you as well, clearly a grounded bloke as well as a deep thinker.

duncan said...

ps on amazon Dave Mamby, himself an accomplished kayaker reviews Daves book well. worth a read. Just put Dave Ammons into search on amazon. Duncan x

Rhiannon said...

Hi-

Yes, profound stuff, not that I can do justice to it. Quite a talented person all up really- concert level classical guitarist, two PhDs (I always found one to be hard enough), martial arts expert...

There are some interesting essays on Doug's site: www.dougammons.com as well.

Rhiannon

Unknown said...

Rhiannon:

A friend came across your comment about my slide show and forwarded the link to me. I thank you for the kind and thoughtful commentary. It is odd that people largely ignore what I said and instead focus on something like the sound system. Another one I heard was a criticism about using slides versus all-digital projection (the latter is poorer and extremely finicky unless you have a $10,000 carefully calibrated system). I think I present a world-view that is different enough from what they expect that they have a difficult time grasping it. But I work very hard to find ways to express the ideas so that (I hope) they are fully understandable to everybody. I feel they should be, because in some form or another, all of us face and grapple with these things in our imperfect ways. They come out in simplified, symbolic form in our adventure sports, which is why these sports are so compelling. It's a little ironic, because the messy complexity of normal life tends to hide the message, while the simplified form experienced in climbing a rock wall, running a river or doing an ocean paddle tend to make people focus on the surface aspects - the excitement and sensations. That's especially true in whitewater paddling, where the action is so wild that it seems to sum up everything. That's why we get great paddlers showing films made of nothing but 2 second clips of action, or photo after photo of waterfalls and big rapids. They tell us how difficult and dangerous it was, as if this substitutes for saying why it is meaningful. Of course, by themselves difficulty and danger don't mean anything. As you clearly understand the fruit are found - or created - by us sifting deeper. Thank you very much for being interested in the deeper aspects I've struggled to find.

And by the way, you're an excellent writer and I enjoyed reading through your blog. It's a pleasure finding somebody so sensitive and thoughtful about the world and other people!

My very best to you.

Doug

PS: Actually I don't have two phDs, just one, but I have three other degrees in math, physics and psychology. I love learning, but got tired of the university - it's just one kind of learning.