The Thanksgiving Stand-Up Paddle Board Game

Regardless of age, people should keep taking up new challenges. In fact, the older you are and the more secure your position, the higher the need to be a beginner again. Stumbling, not always knowing what to do next, and occasionally flopping spectacularly are all good for the body and brain. Mostly.

Steph and I wanted to celebrate Thanksgiving with a paddle down the river and there was only one option for people who might join us. They would need to be experienced warm weather paddlers ready to make the move to a far less hospitable environment, where a dump into the frigid river couldn't be quickly ameliorated by hopping back on the board and warming up in the hot sun. This time, falling into the cold river would be followed by getting back on the SUP and chilling even further in the wintry air.

So of our growing list of adventurous river SUP cohorts, there was only one family hardy enough to join us and that was the Cowells, the Brit transplants who introduced us to stand-up paddleboarding.

There was a pall over our expectations for their visit and it was a big one. Gillian, the mom, has myasthenia gravis, an autoimmune disease that can cause weakness and rapid fatigue of muscles under voluntary control. It is serious and unpredictable, coming and going, but never gone. Gillian hadn't had much in the way of symptoms until fall, in fact, we had no idea she even had MG until it resurfaced then. Her doctor increased the medications and she reported she was able to swallow easier than in recent weeks, this being a big part of the troubles MG can cause. So what could we expect in the way of paddling? We all agreed to keep options open and take it as it came; no expectations.

The Cowells came up for several days and we shared a very fun Thanksgiving dinner that was highlighted by a turkey that I had no clue on for cooking time because I chose this of all days to cook a bird using a technique new to me. Rather than brining the bird for a day or more in salt water (revered by some and vilified by others), I did a dry rub and let the bird sit uncovered and splayed in the refrigerator for about a day.

The rub was my own creation after the requisite salt, pepper and bit of brown sugar. I added lots of fresh herbs growing around here (rosemary, thyme, sage) plus a bunch of turmeric, some smoked paprika, garlic and onion powder and more. The guide I read on dry rub turkey said start it high (500 degrees for 30 minutes), then turn down to 350 and absolutely do not tent it early or late in the cooking (death to a crispy skin). So as the turkey darkened and passed its ETA on the table by about an hour, we weren't sure where we were headed.

Luckily, we had a good amount of wine to tide us over and let's not forget laced eggnog. Brits may not care about Thanksgiving (I suspect even ex-pats view this as the holiday for the country that got away), but they are fond of their holiday spirits. By the time the bird's little timer popped out, we were ready for anything, which was good. We had a few surprises.

The sweet potatoes topped with marshmallows were covered and warming in the brand new gas stove at Sow's Ear, where the Cowells were staying. They amazed us all when the marshmallows, which had not touched the lid, rose and stuck to the lid as though spray painted. (I think it was a condensation rising thing, enhanced by the long wait for the turkey.)

Then there was daughter Laura's dinner. She eats none of the traditional meal and was served curry and rice by her mother. Laura is off to college next year and it's anyone's guess whether she will starve or find herself lodging behind an Indian restaurant. No fan of cold weather, Laura spent the weekend cuddled up with her laptop, working on college entrance material.

Ashley and her mom, the avid SUPers of the family, had been counting the days until they could get back up here and on the water. With her typical cheery optimism, Gillian had us order her an NRS inflatable SUP just like the one we got for Ashley, and she got to try it out for the first time Friday, when we went up to Lewiston Lake for a paddle.

It was sunny and while not warm, certainly not cold. We donned variations on wetsuits, plus gloves and booties and paddled quite a distance up the lake before turning around. As always, Duncan canoed, providing photography services as well as transporting the eggnog. Gillian said she felt fine, which supports my theory we can do far more than one might think, as long it's what we want or have to do. In this case, it was want, and she wanted to SUP, but there was no commitment to a river run the next day.

Ashley, our Go For It, Damn the Torpedoes Girl who is game for everything, helped me clean up a bunch of tree limbs we'd stowed under the blue spruce on our patio. As I cut, she stacked them for the fire pit and then transported a bunch to the wood shed for Sow's Ear. Without looking, I knew what I'd find up there. Precisely stacked wood climbing to the ceiling. She is as tall as she is energetic. She is also a young woman of few words. We knew she'd do anything to get on the river again, but she was mute on the subject, hoping to make it, but respecting her mom's needs.

Saturday was also sunny and we started our day by taking the dogs across the river for a good run. Duncan, Gillian and Ashley joined us and we detoured to the spot just below Bucktail Hole so I could show them where Steph and I had cleared out a bunch of brush extending into the narrow slot where we had enough water to clear the way- too-close rocks. We figured with such low water, which is our winter normal until rains beef up the flow, who needed more challenges?

Two fly fishing guides were about to pass by so we watched them. I longed to be headed downriver too, but was content knowing Steph and I would run the river again soon, and we were completely good with however Gillian wanted to play it. Maybe another lake trip? I doubted Duncan would want to take his precious Bell canoe down the river, and of course he'd have Gillian's welfare in mind. But then he announced he was OK with a river run and we were off to the races! We hurried back to our cabins to suit up.

We've expanded our gear to include nice knee and elbow pads for ourselves and guests. Add them to the helmets, gloves and booties and you have a team of frog gladiators or maybe Mutant Ninja Turtles.

Steph, Gillian and Ashley's SUPs have assorted fin sizes. They opted for the 2" size. Steph carved my Ironhide's fin down to a nub no more than 2" and for all of us, our initial experience with such limited tracking support came as we hopped aboard, made a few runs up and down the river in front of our cabin. and then took off with Duncan canoeing and the four of us on our SUPs. It was great having Duncan and his canoe as a safety net, especially if Gillian had trouble.

The joys and dangers of running the river on a SUP include the fact there is no way to stop and examine each bit as you go. Steph insisted on leading and guiding, generously offering to be the crash test dummy as he picked his way along the narrow, deeper channels of the river. (Unfortunately, this resulted in no face-on photos of him. I plan to set that straight next trip we make.) For the first time in our 11 years here, there was one point where he chose an entirely different course, one that would never have panned out in previous years, and it proved to be a wise decision.

There are several bouncy and exciting spots on this run and they were a complete gas. It was as exciting, challenging, rewarding and over the top fun as ever, enhanced even more by the fact this was a crisp November day. All of us enjoyed it and nobody fell in. But the greatest part of this trip, in particular, was Gillian.

How many 50-year-old women do you know who have a serious medical condition, and who have never before run a very cold river in the winter when it is at its shallowest, but when presented with the opportunity, seized it like the brass ring on the merry-go-round?

This paddle would scare the bejeezus out of just about any sane person in perfect health. As our neighbors said to each other when we drove past them the day before, truck piled high with canoe and SUPs, "Who would be crazy enough to go on the water with those things now?" But that was for the lake paddle, which really was a mild adventure. Running the river was the brass ring highlight for us all because we got to witness Gillian's reclaiming of her true self.

That made for a very special Thanksgiving, and one we'll always remember.

That about wraps it up except that we have had a lot of rain and even some snow here, which is wonderful. Better yet, Shasta is wearing her white petticoat again and there is hope of a true ski season.

To get ready for it, I finally got my knee operated on last week ("polishing the turd," as the surgeon put it) and am getting a brace that will be my best friend SUPing and skiing. As an early Christmas present, I also got a new doc who understands that a life well-lived includes pushing boundaries far beyond what might be viewed as absolute limitations. When he charged into the exam room and asked with exuberance, "Where is this wild person!?" I knew I was in good hands.

If you're looking for a really different Christmas present this year, consider an inflatable or hard SUP. We have the best prices of the year on SUP packages now and can ship to your recipient or hold them up here for a later pick-up. And a gift certificate for lodging or our SUP Boot Camp that takes a paddler from baby steps to a river run, can be used anytime, not just when it's frosty outside!
See you up here, heidi (and Steph and the lovely if slightly misbehaved occasionally animals)