Quick lesson

Second in a two-part series on kayaking in Maine. Today: Freshwater paddling.

RIPOGENUS GORGE, Maine -- When David Quick wanted a different training program for soldiers under his command in the Royal Canadian Regiment, he came to Alvah Maloney at Maine Kayak Inc. in Unity.

Quick, a longtime paddler from Ontario, saw a kayaking course as a perfect combination of skills training and summer enjoyment in a sport both simple and demanding, but definitely, he said, lots of fun.

''Every now and then we get a chance to do some training that's a little bit different, and with this sport, just going through what it takes to become a better kayaker, you're going to build skills and confidence," said Quick. ''You're going to overcome whatever fears you have of being in the boat or rapids.

''That's our training objective."

But when Quick brought 40 troops from his regiment down to this northern stretch of the Penobscot River, where the whitewater plunges 80 feet from the Ripogenus Dam at the outlet of Chesuncook Lake and becomes a roaring whitewater through a gorge between two high granite walls, he hardly expected the results he saw.

The same could be said for Maloney, a soft-spoken, articulate instructor whose approach to teaching is as far from hardcore military drillmaster as you can get. With the troops split into two 20-man groups, the native Mainer explained techniques, offered demonstrations, and encouraged the soldiers, many of whom in three days achieved goals reserved for advanced kayakers.

''They picked it up so quickly," said Maloney. ''We started with the safety program the first day and learning to paddle on flatwater. By the second day, we were doing some moving waters, and by the third day, a lot of them were entering and exiting whitewater river runs and were actually doing Eskimo rolls in the rapids. I was just inspired by the whole experience."

Whether military units will begin to include kayaking in the standard training regimen may be doubtful. But as kayaking in the last decade has taken over every waterfront from ocean to lake, and rivers wild and tame, it seems every group is up for it.

Not every beginner will be doing Eskimo rolls in whitewater after three days, said Maloney, but there is a starting point for every individual and everyone can enjoy the sport and achieve some measure of success almost immediately.

''Kayaking is 90 percent mental," said Maloney, who set up housing for the troops at Big Moose Inn, near the river. ''And those who came with the idea of really wanting to learn and practice some techniques advanced very quickly."

This stretch of the river lies within one of the legendary outdoor playgrounds in the Northeast. Located about 60 miles north of Bangor (120 north of Portland), the West Branch courses out of the lake country to the north, and broadens into a very accessible river from the Ripogenus Dam to Millinocket and another series of lakes that touch the southern end of Baxter State Park, Maine's conservation piece de resistance, a 202,064-acre wilderness preserve surrounding the mile-high Mount Katahdin.

Once used in river drives that made the Penobscot all but useless to recreational interests, the 1972 Clean Water Act put an end to commercial uses of the river and opened an entire universe of outdoor sports -- rafting, fishing, swimming, and camping. The entire stretch of river, about 30 miles from Millinocket to Ripogenus, is easily accessible from the Gloden Road -- the hard-packed gravel thoroughfare built by logging companies to truck timber to the mill after the demise of the river drives.

Maloney, who grew up helping his parents run their rafting business -- North Country Rivers -- where he became a registered Maine Guide, has seen people of all ages and sizes try kayaking, and for any number of motivations. One day two weeks ago, he worked with a group of newcomers that included Mike Coulton and his 29-year-old daughter, Kate, from Portsmouth, N.H., and Ted Brewer from Sheridan, Wyo., and his 12-year-old son, Colt.

Methodical and extremely articulate, Maloney starts all groups the same -- with an explanation of the boats they are using, safety, and a few paddling techniques, followed by a stretching session. There's even a technique for picking up the 55-pound boats from the trailer and getting them to shore.

Of first importance, Maloney stresses, is getting the kayak to ''fit." The typical 16-foot sea kayaks -- also used in large lake trips because of the open water -- have several adjustments of back, seat, and pedal height.

''Anyone can get into a kayak and begin to paddle," he said. ''But to do all the work with the arms wears them out and doesn't make use of the rest of the body -- like the shoulders and stomach."

Holding the paddle in front with a ''box" in mind (moving the body in such a way as to maintain the same distance between chest and paddle) allows the rest of the body to help generate the power to pull water.

''When I learned on my own, I picked up a lot of bad habits," said Maloney. ''I had to unlearn them before I really learned how to do it right. I try to teach people to avoid learning those bad habits."

Two of the group had paddled before, but the Brewers were new to the sport. After stretching, they were off for the first half-day trip, a quiet paddle in calm conditions, in and out of shadow created by overhanging trees.

''We've never done anything like this together before," said Ted Brewer, who paddled a two-person kayak with Colt, who preferred running the steering pedals connected to the rudder. ''And this is such beautiful country up here, I'm sure this is the best way to really see it."

Paul Horgan and his fiancee, Lilly Brice, both New Yorkers, haven't figured out just how they're going to do it, but they say kayaking is definitely going to be a part of their upcoming wedding.

''Either we'll say our vows in our kayaks, or have the wedding on land and paddle off into the sunset," said Brice, a college administrator whose first husband died of a sudden illness five years ago. To snap her out of her depression, friends pushed Brice into physical activity.

''These friends of mine are newborn physical fitness nuts who believe that physical activity can elevate your mood," she said. ''And I've got to say they're right. We went hiking, horseback riding -- they took me sailing. They couldn't get me skydiving. Too chicken.

''But then there was kayaking, and I'd just never done anything else like it. We came to Maine, to a place north of Greenville -- Lobster Lake. Two things happened on that trip I'll never forget: I saw a moose at close range and I met Paul. Both were pretty amazing."

Since then, the two have kayaked in a dozen places in the East, West, and the Caribbean. But, ''somehow, we keep coming back to Maine," said Horgan. ''There is a feel, a way the rocks and pines are, the smell of the place that just makes it different from anyplace else in the world. And since this is where Lilly and I found each other, in kayaks, I'm sure we'll always be doing this."

And this is not the first budding romance kayak guides have observed. Said Carl Swanson, who teaches in southern Maine but leads trips all over the state:

''At first, you don't think of a kayak as a real love machine. I mean, you're alone in the boat, you know? But then after you've shared so much experience with the person in the boat next to you, there's always that time of day when you pull the boats up and pitch the tents and it's time to talk over the day's activities. I've seen lots of relationships get started here on the water."

For the first year of their kayaking together, Brice and Horgan rented boats. ''It's pretty cheap," said Horgan, a member of an accounting firm. ''But still, after a while, you really want a piece of the rock, and you want to buy something really nice. It sort of speaks to how devoted you are to the sport -- like always buying new golf clubs."