Rough Waters
When Asheville kayaker Brian Reuff died while paddling The Narrows section of the Green River in November, the local paddling community was understandably devastated. “Everybody knows everybody on the Green,” says Amos Schuman, an Asheville paddler who frequents the class V river. “It’s such a small, tight community, you become friends with everyone.”
In addition to the loss of their friend, local paddlers also have had to cope with a public relations backlash. Fueled by a handful of misguided newspaper articles written about Reuff’s death, some outside the paddling community have suggested closing the Green River to paddling altogether. “It’s hard for some people to accept an extreme sport like kayaking in the first place,” says Schuman. “A death like this isn’t easy for anyone to handle. The media needs to be careful how they portray this tragedy.”
Schuman and many other paddlers believe the Green River has been unfairly portrayed by the local media since Reuff’s death. The initial Associated Press story quoted rescue officials as saying the Green is “just too dangerous-no matter how good [of a paddler] you are.” That same official also incorrectly overstated the number of deaths on the Green. Other articles in local papers said that officials “urge kayakers to stay off the Green River.”
But local boaters insist The Narrows is not a death trap. There have only been two deaths on the Green since The Narrows was first paddled in 1987, fewer than the Chattooga, Nantahala, and other popular rivers in the region.
Gary Brown, chief of the Blue Ridge Fire and Rescue Department, the organization responsible for rescues on the Green River, says the official quoted in the original articles spoke out of frustration.
“We’re not asking people to stay off the Green,” says Brown, adding that he doesn’t have the authority to close access to the river even if he wanted to.
Organizers decided to cancel the annual Green River Race, a world-class downriver paddling event in early December, largely due to the overblown public reaction.
The articles enflamed an existing myth commonly perpetuated outside the paddling community of whitewater kayaking as an “extreme sport” for adrenaline junkies and thrill seekers who have a death wish.
“There’s a perceived risk and an actual risk when it comes to paddling,” explains Gerald Eldridge of American Whitewater. “I’ve never been seriously injured paddling the Green, but I have been hit on my bike riding around town several times. I feel much more comfortable on the river.”
In 2000, the last year that American Whitewater compiled comprehensive statistics, only 47 paddlers drowned in the entire United States. Half of those deaths were in calm, class I-II waters. According to the Outdoor Recreation Participation Study, roughly 35 million people paddle each year. It’s far more dangerous to drive your car, ride your bike, or walk across the street than it is to paddle, says Eldridge.
“Whenever an article is written about paddling, it always seems to focus on the most extreme aspect of the sport,” says Shelton Steele, a regular paddler on the Green. “People assume all whitewater paddling is dangerous, but that’s not the case.”
Paddlers aren’t sure how to alter the public’s misconception of their beloved pastime. No amount of statistics or testimonials seem to alter the public’s misguided perception.
“It’s not just a sport,” Amos Schuman says. “It’s how you define yourself as a person. When tragedies like Brian’s death happen, it puts things in perspective, but people have to realize that he died doing something he loved. And you have to think he’d want us to keep doing the thing we love too.”
-Graham Averill
