Mitch’s Rules of Paddling

Mitch’s Rules of Paddling

a Carolina Paddler article

by Mitch Lloyd

-Editor’s note: Mitch Lloyd is a longtime paddler and the President of the Lumber River Canoe Club.

Mitch:  Here are the irrefutable things I have learned in 20 years of paddling.

Mallard’s Law:  Never try to paddle a stream that is so small or congested that a duck can’t land on it or take off.

The Rule of Boots:  You will always step into water that is deeper than your boot can handle.

        Corollary: Never wear hip boots for this reason.

Wind Law:  If you paddle in a circle on a body of water, the wind will always be in your face.

Shuttle Law:  In a group of two or more, someone will be 15 minutes late for the put-in.

Launch Fee Rule: No matter how many times you tell people to bring exact change for the launch fees, they won’t.

The Rule of Air:   In any paddle group of two or more, there will be someone who believes that no single breath of air shall be wasted with silence. If they are breathing, they are talking.

The Rule of Paddle Gender:  In the absence of overwhelming diligence, all two-piece paddles will morph into the same gender by the time you reach the body of water and will either be two male or two female connections.

The Rule of Food:  Everybody’s lunch and snacks will look better than what you brought.

The Law of Insects: It is the ultimate destiny and overwhelming goal of any insect to die in your throat, nose or ear.

The Truth of Swamps:  Wherever you paddle, it will always look better over there.  As soon as you move over there, where you just left will look better than where you are.

The Rule of Snakes: All snakes seen on the water are deadly copperheaded water rattlers.

The snake pictured above is a banded water snake, Nerodia fasciata, nonpoisonous.

The Law of Watercraft:   If you think you have too many boats, you don’t have enough.

The Rule of Friends and Neighbors:  Everybody wants so badly to go with you on a paddle trip, but when you invite them, they are always busy.  Even if you give six years notice.

Perhaps you’ve noticed your own unquestionable truths.