Whet your appetite for aquatics with kayaking

The mutiny began before our kayak had even cleared the dock. The tandem kayak we had rented… The mutiny began before our kayak had even cleared the dock. The tandem kayak we had rented could fit two tall fellows, but it could also be quite small.

“Quit hitting my paddle,” my skipper Rob shouted as our craft eased out into the Allegheny River. Like any good leader, I accepted full responsibility. “I’m not,” I hollered back.

Rob countered with a paddle slap that sent more than a few drops of the Allegheny into my eyes. I lowered my shades and paddled a little more cautiously. With peace returning to our vessel, we pulled away from shore and set off for Heinz Field.

With all the sights and rivers that Pittsburgh has to offer, kayaking can be a great way to spend a day. We rented our kayak from the only kayaking service in Pittsburgh, Kayak Pittsburgh, which is nestled beneath the Sixth Street Bridge next to PNC Park. Their prices might seem steep — $15 an hour for singles and $20 an hour for tandems. Until Friday of this week, students with an ID kayak for free.

But you’re paying for more than a plastic boat and a paddle. Kayak Pittsburgh’s staff can give you pointers on your paddling technique so you don’t wear yourself out — too much. They’ll also let you know the rules of the river. If you are taking a kayak out onto the water on your own, be sure to check the Pennsylvania boating guidelines to make sure you’re qualified and look into the rules of the water you’re kayaking in.

Kayak Pittsburgh’s location in the midst of Downtown also gives kayakers easy access to the city’s waterside landmarks. Lora Woodward, the public program director for Venture Outdoors, which owns Kayak Pittsburgh, sees kayaking as an opportunity for Pitt students to see the city from a new perspective.

“Kayaking offers a way to do physical activity that’s a bit unconventional,” said Woodward. “It gets you off the bus, off the bike trails and into the river. It’s a different angle on the city.”

Venture Outdoors frequently organizes group paddles to showcase these opportunities. The Bridges of Pittsburgh Paddle tour leads kayakers along the three rivers with a local historian who discusses the history and architecture of the city. It’s three hours long and costs $25 for Venture Outdoors members and $33 for non-members.

The varied schedule of kayaking events is convenient for kayaking students, as there are few available teachers. REI, an outdoor outfitter located on the South Side, offers classes on camping and trail biking, but not kayaking. Sales associate John Ferguson said the small size of the Pittsburgh store limited them to sales, unlike other REI locations.

Instead, the store has partnered with Venture Outdoors to encourage customers to use that rental service, Ferguson said. With 500 to 600 kayaking events per year, there are opportunities for adrenaline junkies and birdwatchers alike. Even the Allegheny provides plenty of sights.

As Rob and I passed by the stadiums and casinos of downtown Pittsburgh, we began to appreciate the appeal of tourism by kayak. With the stroke of a paddle, we could skim from dejected Pirates fans to a moored submarine at the Carnegie Science Center.

After a few pitiful attempts to race speedboats against the current, we finally found our match. As we explored the difficulties of posing for photos in a rocking boat, a battered pontoon boat sputtered past. We leapt to the challenge.

Digging our paddles deep into the water, we powered up the river. Perhaps it was Downtown Pittsburgh, gorgeously lit, in front of us — or maybe we had finally spent enough time paddling — but we had found our rhythm. “Right, right, we’re veering right!” I called back to Rob. “I’ve got it, dude,” he responded with an aquatic swagger that would have had a surfer reaching for his board.

We were finally moving at a reasonable clip. But ahead, I spotted our shallow craft’s one true foe: a wake.

A Duck boat had just crossed over to the shore ahead of us, sending towering waves nearly a half a foot tall streaming towards us. “Take ’em bow first,” my knowledgeable skipper called forward. I stabbed my paddle down into the murky depths, spinning our craft around starboard to face the waves headfirst.

“My phone!” Rob suddenly remembered, shoving our impromptu camera into a plastic sandwich bag. It was too late. We hit the first wave. A small lip in front of our seats caught most of the water, but we still felt a blast of lukewarm water on our chests. My shirt was drenched. With water, or was it sweat? Sweat? The race!

Untroubled by the turbulent seas, the pontoon boat had passed us. But we were quick in our pursuit. Skimming over the rest of the waves, we charged ahead. Before long, we had left the boat in our own meager wake.

The pontoon boat cruised to shore to dock, and we declared victory. After a paddle high-five, we drifted to a stop under the Fort Duquesne Bridge.

The setting sun scattered light over the windows of Downtown and a flotilla of ducks swam in front of us, guiding us back to the dock. Maybe this was the unconventional appeal Lora spoke of.

Our short voyage had brought much more excitement than I had anticipated. Instead of a cheaper run or bike ride, we had gambled on a fresh activity. And at least against the pontoon boat, we had won.