SURF // KANANASKIS
Dam good time
Hydro dams generate surf in Alberta KIRK ZEMBAL // KIRK@vueweekly.com
T
he first time I heard, I believe my exact words were, "Wait, what?" It was one of those times where your ears heard correctly, but the words being processed are so outlandish that the brain just rejects them. "You can go surfing in Alberta? Really?" In a word, yes. And no, this isn't standup paddling, or in chlorinated water, or in your canoe or kayak. This is real, honest-to-goodness surfing. You paddle out, catch the wave, stand up and surf. Except that this time, the water is fresh and the wave you just surfed stays there ready for the next guy. River surfing. The very definition of a burgeoning sport, here in Alberta river surfing (for now) happens in two places: on the Lower Kananaskis and the Upper Red Deer Rivers. Its adherents are fervent and increasing in number, and lately, organized. Founded in 2005, the Alberta River Surfing Association and its co-founder and primary organizer, Neil Egsgard, champion the sport and provide guidance for even the most rookie of river surfers (read: me). Egsgard's most helpful piece of advice, "Just head down there and do what everybody else is doing." So I rented a board from undercurrents in Calgary, neoprened up and headed down to Canoe Meadows for a baptismal dip into the Lower Kananaskis. One of the more popular and frequented rivers in Alberta, the Kananaskis is famed for its white water—and this may be the only time Vue Weekly will ever publish these words—thanks to the Transalta Corporation. See, back in 1947 the company dammed the Kananaskis River to generate power. The Barrier Dam opens its intakes during times of electricity demand—during the day—and closes them during the night. This means by day the Kananaskis flows hard and by night the water level drops and "improvements" can be made to the river bottom. In 1984 the first earth movers got in there and built the current race course. Since then other modifications have been made to enhance the whitewater. It now presents a solid class II to III for rafters, kayakers, canoeists and, well, me on a surfboard. For now, Alberta wave seekers can surf the existing Lower Kananaskis rapids or the S-bend rapid on the Upper Red Deer River near Sundree. If the ARSA and Neil Egsgard's plans come to fruition there will be two new river surf holes opening up soon. First up is the Harvie Passage development. On the Bow River in Calgary, Harvie Passage is replacing the existing weir that is commonly referred to as a "drowning machine." Scheduled to open in 2011, the City of Calgary involved the local whitewater community (including ARSA) to hopefully create surfable waves depending on flow rates. Scale models of the
features were built and little model boats surfed the wave, but time will tell if fullsized people will be able to replicate that feat. As well, the future of river surfing in Alberta perhaps hinges on a project presented by the ARSA to the Lower Kananaskis River Users Association last fall. Referred to as the Alberta Pipeline, it will involve a future reshaping of the Kananaskis upstream of the Widowmaker feature. The intended wave is modelled after a wave in Munich, Germany where the first attempt to surf a river was made by two brothers on September 5, 1975. Still in the planning and permitting stage, the Alberta Pipeline appears to face no technological or hydrological obstacles. The primary obstacle is financial and the ARSA is in the process of mobilizing their base to get the word out and bring the wider public into the fold. Now, I've run the Kananaskis before and it's not the sort of river to just float down on a board. But, thanks to the river-bottom improvements, there are "surf holes" where you can jump right in. I decided to jump in at Green Tongue, a standing wave formed at a groin in the river at the start of the Race Course. The water is mountain cold, and it's a little intimidating the first time you feel that steady push of the current threatening to sweep you downstream. That is, at least until the first crack at the wave. Standing in an eddy a couple metres from the throat of the rapid, I edge my way into the flow. Predictably, it flushes me out, tossing me upside down and along the river. Now here's one crucial difference from ocean surfing—you don't wear a leash from your leg to your surfboard. As a kayak instructor once told me, "a rope in a river is a very dangerous thing." So, you've gotta catch that bastard once you fall off. And wow, do you ever fly down a river if you swim with the current. Common misconception is that the board will float away from you faster than you yourself will float. Not so. A few solid strokes put me within reach of the board and I swam back into the eddy. With a little more gumption this time I powered my way into the Tongue. Or rather, it pulled me in and there it held me. Here's where the best part of river surfing is—this wave is never going to crest. I can stay there, on my chest, until I'm ready to make the jump to my feet. Unless I get seriously unbalanced, this wave is going to present an almost limitless playground. You can see this in the more experienced riders: perfecting their cutbacks, linking them; generally getting in a solid hour's worth of ocean surf practice in one run on the river. Hard to beat. It was October and I was surfing in Alberta. Stayed until Transalta turned the river off. It was cheap, accessible, fun as all heck and right in our backyard. Not too shabby, eh? Hell, since the Kananaskis never freezes during the winter you could even surf and ski in the same day. And here I thought I'd have to move to California for that. V
HOW LOW KAN YOU GO? >> Bending the knees to stabilize the board while riding the Lower Kan
VUEWEEKLY // MAY 13 – MAY 19, 2010
// Kirk Zembal
OUTDOOR ADVENTURES // 35