If you think you don’t need a drysuit…

Boaters play at the Boiling Hole -photo by Sunshine Richardson

If you think you don’t need a drysuit…

By Teresa Gryder

a Carolina Paddler Shared Article

When I first moved to the Pacific Northwest I already had a drysuit I had purchased for teaching rescue in the frigid Nantahala River in western North Carolina. I had paddled a season in Colorado and one in California on top of many years boating in the east. I thought I knew a thing or two about cold water, but I was green. Every new place that I paddle teaches me something important, and paddling in the PNW taught me about cold water.

You can say that you will only paddle when it’s warm. You can try to find rivers where it is safe to go out with just a wetsuit. If you’re really tough, you might last a whole season using the same gear you used to use somewhere else.

I lasted about a season. I didn’t know anything about the rivers here, and it was a late fall day when I paddled the Hood River, Dee to Tucker, with a bunch of folks in the club. I didn’t check the gauge. I didn’t check the weather. I just packed up my gear and went, trusting. It turns out, I shouldn’t have.

The Hood River on a warmer day and we’re all in drysuits. photo by T. Gryder

First of all, the water was rising. I didn’t know that. Second of all, there was a bitter cold front blowing in behind the rain that brought the river up. I didn’t know that, either. I had a drytop and neoprene shorts, and pogies. I already knew about pogies and boy-o.  I was glad that I did. (Pogies are hand-covers that attach to your paddle.)

But back to this bitter cold day on the Hood River with rising water and me dressed in a drytop and neoprene shorts. It snowed. I froze. I was borderline hypothermic all day. We had swimmers, delays, and the water was rising. I was urgent to get the whole group downriver and it was going sooo slowly. Maybe someone who runs hot like Dave Johnson would have been OK in a wetsuit but I was not OK.

Then the guy with muscular dystrophy took a swim. The crew got him to shore on river left (away from the road) and his boat went downstream. Foolish me, I chased the boat. Nobody came with me. I had never seen the river before. I tried to shove the runaway boat into eddies or pin spots with little success. Every time I took my hands out of the pogies they immediately stiffened with cold. (It turns out, for rescue situations, neoprene gloves are better than pogies.) Eventually I got scared and gave up on the boat, catching an eddy and watching it continue downstream.

Much later, after getting the swimmer across the river toward the road, the group came down and we continued downriver. We found the boat pinned in the very last rapid before the Tucker Bridge takeout. Nobody even tried to get the boat; we were all too cold. We went straight into the pie shop and circled around the woodstove, dripping on the old wooden floor.

I didn’t know it then, but that whole day could have been much more pleasant. I could have worn a drysuit. Just to be warm and dry from head to toe makes a giant difference in my enjoyment, and my safety margins.

Drysuits are indeed expensive. They cost approximately three times what I paid for my first car. And if you want one that bad; you will pay for it. If you want to paddle rivers in the Pacific Northwest a drysuit is your ticket. Without a drysuit your season is short and uncomfortable. I’m sorry, it’s just true. With a drysuit you can paddle year round and you add a tremendous buffer to your safety margin, because one of the largest challenges of our region is the ice cold water.

Members replacing gaskets in their drysuits 

Tips for drysuit newbies:

  1. Get one with a pee zipper. For women who don’t want to use a funnel there are butt zippers.
  2. If you paddle a decked boat, get one with a “tunnel” that seals water out of the sprayskirt.
  3. Learn to maintain and replace the gaskets, it just isn’t that hard. Zippers too.
  4. Keep your suit clean and store it carefully; it will extend its life.
  5. Send your suit in for repairs/patches as often as it needs (annually with hard use).

Teresa Gryder has been running rivers since the 1970’s and now lives in what she calls Whitewater Heaven (the Pacific Northwest). She has worked in the whitewater business for most of her life and loves the community that grows around the river. These days she mostly kayaks but has acquired a packraft and can occasionally be spotted in a canoe or raft.

Teresa is Safety Chair for the Lower Columbia Canoe Club. “Safety is a personal passion project for me.”

 

This article was originally posted on the Lower Columbia Canoe Club website, lowercolumbiacanoeclub.org   We thank Teresa and the LCCC for allowing us to use this.

Yes, we need dry suits in the South, too.  Aside from the damn cold, dam-releases like Nantahala, some of the best paddling is in the winter or early spring, when rains come more frequently. Rob your savings, buy a dry suit. The fall is a good time to buy because many dry suits are on sale.

 

1 Comment on “If you think you don’t need a drysuit…

  1. Excellent article! Thanks for finding it and posting it with the pictures Alton! And Teresa, if you’re reading this, thanks for writing it. Here in the toasty southeastern US, I’ve never felt the need for drysuit. Maybe someday. For all my paddling so far, I’ve dressed pretty much as you did – drytop & layers plus wonderful pogies. It’s worked well enough for me. I did get to paddle the White Salmon in the PNW once and that was indeed some frigid water. It was remarkable how long ppl would hang upside down waiting on a T-rescue instead of swimming, and I understand why.