Up a Creek without a Paddle

Yesterday a co-worker asked me if I would like to go paddle boarding with her and her boyfriend. I had no idea what a paddle board was, but I did know what a paddle boat was. The two couldn't be too different, could they? I accepted the invitation.


Paddle boats are nice and relaxing. I know you can rent paddle boats to float on the Serpentine in Hyde Park. This association made the rest of the experience feel kind of British to me, even though paddle boarding is a more American thing to do. Excuse my British phrases throughout the rest of this post.

Even when I discovered that a paddle board is essentially a surfboard with a paddle, I wasn’t that worried. I figured it would be like punting on the Thames. Although I’d never done this either, I had gone punting on the River Cam. I thought I'd be okay.


Then we got our gear, and I saw a paddle board for the first time. A paddle board looks like this.


After a brief lesson on how to stand up and sit down on my paddle board, my friends and I started off down the river. We soon came to our first wave train. This makes this sound like it’s not rapids, and I don’t think it really is. It’s more like a spot of bother on the river. I immediately knelt down on my board on all fours, and rode the wave through. Feeling pretty proud of myself (and kind of like the dog in the above photo), I stood back up on my board . . . and fell directly into the drink. That’s right; the first time I fell off my board was in calm water.

The next time I fell off my board, I had no choice. We all fell off. That’s what happens when you hit a mini waterfall (1 foot high) in the river at the wrong angle.

I fell off twice more at the next two wave trains, and finally rode one through by kneeling on my knees and using the paddle as a third leg. I can’t decide if that meant I was learning to get the hang of paddle boarding, or if that wave train wasn’t as strong as the previous four.

By that time, the sun was setting and we knew we were nowhere close to where we had parked our pick-up car. We decided we needed to get out of the water and hitchhike. We scrambled up the embankment with our paddles and our boards, and walked along a railroad track until we got back to a main road. By that time, the cold had knocked me back across the pond to America. I was a hobo walking the rails. In three to five layers of sopping wet clothing.

Mom, before you panic, don’t worry. I did not hitchhike. My co-worker and I huddled together and made a paddle board lean-to while her boyfriend did the hitchhiking. Within thirty minutes of leaving us, he was back with the car and a pile of warm clothes.

What did I get from this little adventure? Well, today I sound like a man. I hope I’m not getting a cold. I did learn a few survival tips that will come in handy if I ever do this again. Also, despite falling into a cold river so many times, I had fun. I don’t think I’ll become an avid paddle boarder, but I would like to try it again and maybe stand on my board through one wave train. We shall see, I suppose.