Off-Season Escape: Beating the Winter Blues by Heading South

Written by: Lydia Wing

Program Director

H2o Dreams Paddling School

Saluda, NC

Most of us can relate to ‘burnout:’ that feeling when something we used to love, used to daydream about when stuck in traffic or standing in line at the grocery store, something that used to make us feel so alive... just doesn’t give us that spark anymore. In the world of paddlesports, seasonal players and industry professionals might resonate with dreaded feelings of burning out on their job, their recreation, their source of fulfillment even more. I know that’s true for us as my husband, Chris Wing, and I run a paddling school in Western North Carolina. We realized several years back that the ebb and flow of the seasonality of paddlesports means an on-season and an off-season, and while the arcs of those seasons have changed over time, our dedication to using the off-season as a "reset" has gotten more and more important.

In years past, the comfort of our own home and the often uninviting temperatures in Western North Carolina were making it too easy to defer play and adventure to another time, and we were missing opportunities to reset and get a jump on burning out. This year we changed the plan: Enter Columbus, Georgia. Once a relatively unknown spot on the south Georgia map, Columbus has emerged as a warm(er), predictable, and accessible whitewater wonderland since a dam removal several years ago. An amazing community of paddlers has sprung up around this urban playground, making it easy to connect with paddling partners, find places to stay in town, and enjoy something that the Southeastern US is not very well known for: high-volume, world class whitewater. The unique geology of the Chattahoochee River means big water fun with lower consequence than often found in other high-volume venues, making it the perfect place for Chris and I to base from for a few weeks in early 2020.

The days were simple: walk to the river, play until we’re cold/tired/hungry, walk back. Rest, head out again. Our quest to leave winter worries behind was so far successful as our days mostly revolved around linking up with friends on the river and determining where to play that day based on what paddling skills we wanted to work on. But when Columbus experienced a coldsnap in mid-January that rivaled the frigid temperatures we were seeing back home in the mountains, we realized we could do something about it: we packed up, and fled further south.

An exploratory trip to Florida was always part of the plan as we had sea kayaks in tow, the weather just expedited the original plans. Chris and I had never spent any time on the Gulf side of the state, so we decided to head down the coast first, and then slowly work our way back North when we felt like it. Our first stop was in Big Cypress National Preserve, where this "whitewater kayaker by trade" swapped my normal craft for a long, smooth riding sea kayak to explore the Turner River Trail and paddle through mangroves and sawgrass. This was actually my first time spending any concentrated time in a sea kayak, and I immediately appreciated the allure: tons of dry storage for snacks and gear plus fast, efficient paddling meant covering a lot more ground (or river, rather) than I ever could in my whitewater boat. Navigating mangrove trails was only the first challenge of our jaunt on the Turner River: this would also be my first time sharing my river space with an apex predator… alligators! We certainly saw our fair share of modestly sized gators but it was the diverse, lively bird population that I loved the most: ospreys nesting and caring for babies, cormorants, king fishers, herons, egrets, bald eagles, and several I had never seen before and couldn’t identify, living peacefully in the mangroves.

After several miles on the Turner- and deciding to save a more demanding paddle through Ten Thousand Islands for another time (see you in 2021!)- we gently worked our way back up the coast. Suddenly, maps and guidebooks became our North Star as we sought out unique day trips that would lead us off the beaten path, close to wildlife, or otherwise allow us to experience a new or different challenge than we’re used to in the whitewater world. I got my first taste of mistiming tides as we attempted to paddle around Lover’s Key in Estero Bay. I couldn’t make it back in the channel due to changing tides, but this resulted in a ridiculously fun and gratifying downwinder along the beach where we covered twice the distance in half the time by using wind and tidal currents.

Breaking from our norm of whitewater made for one of the highlights of the trip: an eight-mile out and back excursion to Mound Key, an archaeological site in Estero Bay, which required a bit closer attention to tides and navigation, and an early rise to time everything properly. We were on the water before 8am and saw very little motorized traffic as we worked our way out to the key, which afforded us the special opportunity to see a pod of dolphins playing and blowing water very close to our kayaks- a first in my life.

The final piece to our Florida puzzle was a quick stop in Ichetucknee Springs, where crystal clear water let us peek deep beneath the water’s surface and see schools of fish, turtles, and formidable Florida Gar. Manatees remained my white whale: I had been hoping to see some before we left Florida, but was unsuccessful save for a quick peek in Big Cypress. The bird life, though, was spectacular.

We spent a few more weeks in Columbus taking advantage of high water and big fun before making our return home to Saluda, NC. The trip south had done the trick: new adventures and chances to problem solve made for pure connection with the water, ourselves, and each other. Getting to paddle in new places and in new ways dusted off old passions and refueled a desire for personal improvement and diversifying our skills. Choosing to experience new challenges- be it reading maps and tidal charts or deciding to surf a mammoth wave- during a time when outside noise and stress was minimal allowed us to take personal inventories and identify barriers preventing us from pushing through to new frontiers. While this looked different for each of us, the time away from the familiar while seeking that old flame before it burns out was equally yielding.

Why do we continue to pursue the river? After a few weeks of resetting, I think I have an answer: the power of adventure, the gravity of the unknown, and the spark found only when you catch a glimpse of the primeval.

Want a taste of the Western North Carolina river scene? Find out more about H20 Dreams Paddling School, a premier source of ACA paddling education and instructor certification.