I can now actually call myself a kayaker.

Previously, kayaking was a hobby. If people asked me what I liked to do, I said, "I like to paddle." (Which can start some very interesting conversations, by the way. Not that kind of paddling!) But I never did introduce myself as a kayaker.

But this weekend I reached a milestone of sorts in my paddling career: I kayaked a section of the Ocoee River in eastern Tennessee. The Ocoee is the river on which they did the 1996 Atlanta Olympics paddling sports. The middle section, which is the commonly run/rafted section, is primarily class III in nature, and is pushy, splashy, and rocky. For most people in the southern paddling sphere, the Ocoee is the river by which you measure your ability. It is the first significantly challenging river in the range of abilities, not because it is incredibly difficult but because of the consequences if you fail (the Ocoee has had fatalities of experienced paddlers due to pinnings, head injuries, leg entrapments, drownings, etc. instead of just incidents involving stupid, drunken rednecks with more safety gear surrounding their coolers of beer than on their persons).

I had attempted the Ocoee on one earlier expedition, and unfortunately did not make it through more than two rapids before I was upside-down and exploring the bottom of the river with my head. Not fun. This time went better. I put in just about where I messed up the last time, and managed to make it down the rest of the river with only a few screw-ups. I did go through one rapid backwards, but I was in control and avoided all the obstacles. And I did swim one rapid, not through the fault of any major obstacles but because I flipped over on something innocuous and missed my roll attempts. I really need to work on my roll. But everything went very well, I did not feel at any time like I was in mortal peril, and I really did have fun.

So I can now say, yes, I've kayaked the Ocoee. And if someone asks me what I like to do, I may tell them, "I'm a kayaker."