As the proud holder of the canoeing merit badge and the four-time reigning champion of the high meadows banana boat race, I feel pretty well qualified to say what is and what isn't canoeing. My general rule of thumb: if there's whitewater, it's not canoeing. This was not canoeing. That being said it was not that difficult but it was beyond what any normal American family would stick their 4 year old in a boat and say "have fun".
With years of nantahalay and ocoee river trips under my belt, I felt confident I could guide our boat (Sara and I) to victory, or at least not-embarrassment. The first rapid approached, we get up to ramming speed and hit the first hole perfectly only to get caught on the second row. No sooner do I think "well it's just shallow everyone is going to get caught than do all three of the other boats fly by each with their own quirk: Joe had already popped beer and taking a little break with his feet up letting OC guide them through, Jean-Luc was yelling a militaristic "Droite, Gauche, Droite, Gauche" and didn't stop for practically the whole 2-hour trip, and Reto had passed over the reigns (or oar as it were) to his son which left his hands free to snap a photo of us. This combined with my rock climbing experience last year has led me to the conclusion that the French are much more hardcore outdoorsmen then us.
Canoeing was a lot of fun. We passed by Gressac and stopped on her beaches, got to see some French scenery, and cooled off from a hot day (albeit unwillingly on Sara's part).
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Location:Cez River, Saturday May 21
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