We’ve come to understand the term “game changer” to signify something that dramatically alters a situation or the trajectory of an endeavor. We tend to think of shifts in technology, global conflict, or politics; revolutions; and industry disruptors. We’ve lost touch with the root of the term: something that impels a precipitous change in the way we play.
This July, I will celebrate thirty years of paddling on the Potomac River in Washington, DC. The summer I was 13 years old, I took a lesson with Eric Jackson’s Adventure Schools and was hooked. Kayaking was a game changer for me. All of a sudden, I had found a new way to play. I paddled the rest of that summer, helping out at the school and proudly holding the prestigious title of “junior assistant kayak instructor.” I loaded and unloaded boats, adjusted footpegs, and was something of a small, smiling mascot. Kayaking was what I wanted to do all of the time.
I learned to play the iconic Potomac River spots, including Center Chute, O-Deck, and Rocky Island. I traveled to rivers in South America, Europe, and across the United States. I dove headlong into slalom and had the good fortune to learn from some of the most incredible coaches and whitewater game changers around: US Team coach Silvan Poberaj, Olympic Champion Oliver Fix, and Eric “EJ” Jackson, a four-time world champion, Olympian, International Whitewater Hall of Famer, boat designer, industry disruptor, and mentor.
But the good fortune that kayaking brought me didn’t stop there. Through—or because of—kayaking, I got the job I wanted in education; met my wife, former Greek National Team athlete, at the 2003 Canoe/Kayak Slalom World Championships; and am now raising children who adore playing in and on the water. Game changer. Game changer. Game changer.
After nearly thirty years of paddling, I’ve been blessed with some pretty special game-changing experiences. Still, despite shifts in attitudes and equipment over the years—many of which made possible by EJ—some spots on the Potomac River have seen little change. Rocky Island is one of those places, where the game board hasn’t changed much in decades. It’s a big, flat, glassy wave situated downstream from Great Falls where the river enters Mather Gorge. For the most part, you hop on the wave and get the most Zen front surf around.
Over the years, we’ve spiced it up a bit: back surfing, switching places on the wave, or carving aggressively back and forth. As a teenager, I solo surfed it in a double kayak because…well, teenagers are weird. As a new dad, I plopped my toddler into the front seat of a double kayak for a super smooth father-daughter surf because…well, dads are weird. (Even had a fun dads and kids duo playdate at Rocky with EJ) Still, the recipe hasn’t changed in all these years: paddle out, surf, paddle back, repeat.
This morning, I took EJ’s new Apex Ringer up to Rocky. On the attainment up, I’d asked a friend if he wouldn’t mind filming some clips of me surfing. He cheerfully obliged but it wasn’t hard to miss the puzzlement in his response. Most videos of single-boat Rocky Island surfing are about as thrilling as watching a pot of water boil. Or watching someone ride a stationary bike. But today was different. Today was a game changer.
Imagine having played Checkers for most of your life, prodding your pieces towards your opponent until they’re stuck at a dead end. Then, one day, when you reach the last row, your opponent crowns you king, and suddenly, you can move in both directions for the first time. Imagine pushing pawns around a chess board for decades before you are introduced to the fascinating ways the other five pieces can move. Game changer.
Ten seconds into my first surf I did a full 360º flat spin and easily kept surfing, carving a little back and forth using my hips but no paddle. Surfing out onto Rocky in the Ringer was the river equivalent of calling, “King me.” Suddenly, I could surf in completely new ways. I could mix up entirely new recipes: paddle out, surf, full spin, steer with hips, side grind down into the trough, spin to back surf, paddle back, repeat. The speed the boat held on the wave—forward, backwards, and even sideways—was stunning. It was such a freeing feeling. Such fun. Such a game changer.
Thank you, EJ!