Deep in the curtain. Spirit Falls, Little White Salmon, Wa. Photo by Stiv Wilson.

It was another one of those perfect May days on the Little White Salmon. There was only a small crew of us—maybe 3—and we’d paddled together so many times that we could communicate without ever taking our eyes off the river. When we got to Spirit Falls, someone quickly portaged to set safety while Lane and I sat in the eddy above, and waited.

Only one other time in my life has time slowed as much as it did that afternoon. As lane paddled off he shouted back a final “good lines,” turned, and charged toward the lip. I waited about 30 seconds—long enough for him to clear the landing zone—peeled out, and started my choreographed routine of strokes. This was maybe the 13^th time in a row that I’d run Spirit Fall that season, so I was feeling strong. I approached the lip on the exact same stroke that I always did, but decided to not pull quite as hard on it as I sometimes did. More often than not I end up with whiplash from the powerful upwelling boil, so I felt comfortable letting my bow drop a little bit. This time, it proved to be a bad choice.

Though I hit the water in a good tuck, I felt like I’d slammed chest-first into a brick wall. As I collected my wits and moved into position to roll, I realized that something was wrong—my right arm wasn’t working properly. In what must have been a 5 second span, I realized that my shoulder was dislocated, that I was quickly flushing towards Spirit’s exit rapid—Chaos, which has nearly claimed the lives of two friends—and that swimming was not an option. So I did the only thing that made sense at the time—I popped my shoulder back in and rolled up. The fact that I had no idea how to reduce a dislocated shoulder didn’t matter in the slightest, as a higher state of awareness had kicked in that was determined to get me safely around Chaos. I rolled up, made the move into the eddy above Chaos, and tried to replay to Lane what had just happened.

One month later I was in surgery, and a month after that I was in physical therapy. The surgeon wasn’t able to do a 100% repair, but he felt good enough about the results. Since that May day in 2005, I’ve done class 5 exploratory kayak expeditions in some of the most remote parts of the world. So if you ever have a shoulder injury, don’t worry! There is kayaking after shoulder trauma—it just takes a little work, and constant attention.

Recovering from, and living with, a shoulder injury really comes down to two simple things. There’s lots of ways to get there, and I certainly have my favorites:

1. Strength

First—if you have an injury, let it heal before you start doing any strength work. If you don’t, you’ll either hurt yourself more, or never let it heal properly. Then…

The muscles in and around your shoulders need to be strong. Not only the big ones like deltoids, rhomboids, lats, pecs and biceps, but especially all of the little stabilizers. Add lots of core and balance work to get your entire upper body working as one—this helps dissipate physical stress throughout your whole body so it doesn’t get concentrated say, on your shoulders. Do every standing exercise on a bosu board, and any press exercises on a workout ball with dumbbells instead of on a bench. (Personal favorite—pushups with hands on medicine balls, feet on a workout ball). Get resistance bands for traveling.

2. Confidence

If you paddle “around” your injured shoulder, you are asking for trouble. The last thing that I want to worry about in the middle of a big rapid or a beautiful canyon is my body holding up. For me, confidence is tied directly to strength.

Here in the Pacific Northwest, right now is the perfect time to do some self-maintenance. When the rain begins falling in the next couple of months, I definitely plan to be as strong as ever and ready to charge through another season—wherever in the world it might take me.

Cheers,

Andy