Even in Whitewater, WCC Sprint Paddlers Excel

By Elizabeth Pennisi

Editor's Note: Reprinted with permission from Currents, the newsletter of the Washington Canoe Club. WCC is oriented to flatwater racing and recreational boating.

When Sam Rhodes sprinted across the finish line at this year's Potomac Downriver Race, his kayak was quite the anomaly. The Washington Canoe Club junior took second in a heated 7.5-mile race that included many paddlers on the U.S. Wildwater Team. And even though the goal in wildwater canoeing is “flatwater speed transferred onto a whitewater environment" (Wildwater Racing Manual), with athletes training in class 2, 3, and 4 rivers, Sam and several other WCC members showed how they too could conquer rough waters.  

The Potomac Downriver Race was started almost 70 years ago by the Canoe Cruisers Association (CCA), with the help of WCC members Bill and Frank Havens. The course starts below Great Falls and finishes at the Sycamore Island Canoe Club. Some WCCers, such as Jim Ross, have been participating for years, but in the past three, Jim has convinced juniors training in the WCC sprint program to join in, taking time to practice running the river with them in advance and helping them get boats to and from the race. 

This was Sam's third time. Two years ago, his former coach, Kathleen MacNamee, steered him down the course in a standard canoe. Then last year, he and his sister Erin braved these rapids together, despite their limited experience. And this time around Sam wanted to go solo, so Kathleen lent him a knockoff of a South African Knysna Kayak, which is sturdier than the typical sprint kayak but still quite fast. 

In complete control of his path—or "line"—for the first time, "there was a lot more decision-making," he explains. "In a couple of places, you could go through a riskier section and be faster, but only if you did it right." At one point he needed to choose what side of an island to be on—Calico Falls was the "safe" but supposedly slower route, while Yellow Falls was faster. Yet this year, he and the top five boats opted for Calico Falls, which proved a faster route. He had moved into second place quite quickly and in the four miles of flatwater following Calico, made up some time, shrinking the wildwater boat's lead from three minutes to two and pulling away from wildwater boats behind him. "The boat I was in definitely gave me an advantage," he says. 

This was Kathleen McNamee's third run in this race as well. This time she teamed up with Becca Pinkus, Becca's first time. But since Kathleen had done several other downriver races, including one in Ireland, and Becca had good water sense from steering marathon canoes, they beat all the mixed and men's teams in standard canoes and one in the masters division. Again, the flat section gave them an edge. "That's where we shine," says Kathleen. 

Gavin Ross, too, shone on that flat section. One of the U.S.'s top high-kneel canoeists, he was also a veteran of the downriver racing. He started more than a decade ago in a team boat, often paddling with his dad or brother, Ian, or one of the Havens, another legendary family of high-kneel canoeists. And he's seen the river's many moods. When low, the rapids get bony and require that one pick your way down to follow the most water. "When it's flooded, it's over quickly," says Gavin. No matter what the level, though, "I love this race." Entry fees are low, whitewater paddlers tend to be lots of fun to talk to, and the post-race lunch is delicious. But this years' experience was not the best. 

He had borrowed a wildwater boat, having first tried one in April at a local race called the Seneca Showdown. But since these boats have no rudders, steering proved a challenge. One turns it by primarily leaning, "but when I leaned, I didn't get as much power," he discovered. And the boat seemed to have a mind of its own, taking him down lines different from where he intended to go. Then his paddle hit a rock, and because it was a delicate, expensive sprint blade, he let it go and flipped. He still finished 6^th overall but says "I'm kind of over" wildwater boats. He plans to go back to canoeing and having a partner. "It's more fun as a team," he says.

The 2024 race was kicked off by the WCC chair of the boathouse restoration, David (Cotton) Cottingham, who is also chair of the CCA. He climbed up on a rock, counted down, and dropped his paddle. A mad frenzy among the 66 paddlers ensued, with WCC's Jim Ross and David Podloch—high-kneeling—getting a jump in an eddy and taking off. They too, finished in the top 10 boats. WCC brothers Alistair and Graham Leith, members of the sprint team, finished just two minutes behind that veteran crew—despite being decades younger and having very little whitewater under their belts.

A longtime whitewater boater who joined the WCC about 15 years ago because it's a convenient place from his home to go for a paddle, Cotton jokes about the makeshift apparatus he's seen used by WCC over the years: bicycle helmets, plastic garbage bags for spray skirts, and box wine bladders for air bags. But the race "is sort of an 'all-comers' thing," says Cotton, as long as the officials judge the entrant as competent to do the course. "It's for everyone, from those who are competing to make the national team to people happy to be last place."

Cotton would like to see more crossover between the people who paddle below Little Falls and the people who paddle above. But Sam says he's unlikely to become a whitewater—or even a wildwater—convert "because I've had a taste of very fast boats," he explains. But "almost definitely I will do this race again. It was a lot of fun."