CHRIS ARVIDSON

words and art
 

For some unknown reason in 2010, every damn time I got in the river I managed to dump myself and go for a swim. And mind you, that's no mean feat in a kayak. Well, maybe EVERY time is a slight exaggeration, but not much...

But Wednesday, the first day of the National Committee for the New River's first day of the 2011 Expedition, I managed to stay upright the entire float. I almost bagged it on one little rapid/rock, but managed to save myself at the last minute. George was watching me and I think he was disappointed not to have to fish me out. I'm pretty clear that the reason it almost happened was the River Gods were warning me -- right before it happened we were talking about (and making fun of) people who come out on the New River with us and whine the whole time. All whining and bitching was noticeably absent on Wednesday -- keep your fingers crossed that this state of affairs continues throughout the Expedition. Read More 

Last Friday we hit the North Fork. George and Ben and I put in at the bridge off Deep Ford Rd. and went down to the bridge at Hwy 16. I went swimming, too, not on purpose... and it was cold, my friends. Trying to scooch in off the bank, ooops, put the nose right on in and filled up the boat in nothing flat.  Read More 

Below is an essay I've submitted to the New River Writers in Blacksburg who are mounting an exhibit of photos and the writing they inspire. The photo to the right of this post is the photo I have written about below:

Under the Bridges
Wednesday, August 5, 2009

The morning started out refreshingly cool; a quick little shower had wet the pavement and then moved on. Beside the road, we found a small parking lot, the ubiquitous brown wooden government issue sign denoting the place to put in your boats. Claytor Lake Dam loomed industrially in the background. Read More