Al Kolenda
Primary Outdoor Sport: Kayaking
Pronouns: She/They
Favorite Beverage: Tea
Sunrise or Sunset: Sunset
Non-Outdoor Hobby: Cooking & Baking
Guilty Pleasure: Reading a book and drinking a cup of tea on my back porch in my rocking chair
Favorite Camp Chore: Tending the Fire
Post-Trip Meal: Vegan Mac and Cheese with Broccoli
Book Recommendation: A Psalm for the Wild Built
Three Words to Describe Yourself: Gay, Caring, & Powerful
“I moved to South America and I saw some boaters out on a lake. They were tossing around a ball that looked like a water polo ball. So I was like, ‘Whoa, that's kind of cool. What are you guys playing?’ And, it turned out they were playing kayak polo.
I had grown up doing water polo in school as a youth and went to undergrad and did some water polo. These folks just scooped me up and took me in. The same day I got there, I was playing around with them and joined the team. On the weekends they would go out and do whitewater and they were always stoked to have me out there as a newbie.”
“I had no fear to start. I had no idea of what the consequences were and was going down Class III’s, swimming with no fear in the world. I didn't have a roll for a whole year. I was playing kayak pool for five days a week, and then on the weekends we would go out and get on the river.
It was incredible, because they're in the mouth of the Amazon. You have all of these different routes to traverse down. Everyone can start out at the same place and choose a path. Someone chooses a Class II, someone chooses a Class V, Class III, and then we all end up at the same spot. You meet up at the bottom and you take a little train, you put all your kayaks on an old push cart, and you go back up and rerun it all day long.
You're constantly doing new things so it's like going on a bunch of different rivers. I came back to the states and had to keep boating.”
“I love self-support trips. I think it's the closest you can get to backpacking or going on big epics. It's nice to have rafts carry all your shit, but there's nothing like just going down a river with your boat and everything you need in it, just chugging down the river.
Every morning you pack up everything you have into your kayak and there's nothing else in camp. It's just you and your boat. It feels so incredible. I never really got into playboating. Running waterfalls is super fun, high stoke level, but I don’t go chasing waterfalls. I do go chasing self-support trips and canyons trips.”
“I started out boating with all men. I was on the female national kayak polo team in South America and French Guiana and none of those ladies would go out and whitewater boat so I would go out with all the men.
When you're out on the river, being taught how to roll, being taught how to do different paddle strokes is so hard when you're just learning from these men who are just jacked. The way that I do it and the way that they do it is so different.
When I came back from South America, I tried to find women's crews to boat with and instantly found that not a lot of women were boating because it's really hard to get into. It's very intimidating. The main thing that keeps people out of kayaking is having a roll, being able to roll back over. If you can't do that, it makes it really unattainable. The sport feels really scary. You can get into a lot of hard situations.
If you're not learning the right technique, you're not really going to be able to do it. So I started teaching women how to roll. Teaching women how to roll with technique and with hips instead of with muscles. Seeing somebody roll the first or second time with me, when they have been trying for a year or months with their partner or another man, just feels like really inspiring. You're sharing with another woman that women can be out here in the sport and we don't need to be super ripped to be out here doing it well.
Also, you're opening a door to somebody. Once they have a roll, they can do so much more. So I think getting engaged in the women's community and seeing women start out as never boating before and then going and running stout Class IVs makes my heart so happy. That's the only thing I ever want to do.”
“I say this over and over again, kayaking is a group sport, it's not an individual sport. Some people do it alone, but you have to rely on other people. If you have trust issues, if you struggle with putting your life in other people's hands, it's not a sport for you.
So taking that into everyday life at work and thinking about team building and feeling safe with other people, I don't think I felt as open with people in my regular life before I started kayaking. Kayaking has definitely opened up my heart to trust people, and to see the good in people, and to assume that people will come to your aid when you need it.”
“There's something to be said about the conversations that happen on rivers. You have your own little sacred space on the river, especially going down as a duo.
I often duo with my friend Julie. When you just have one other person, you have to trust them so much because it's just you two. If something happens to me, Julie's there to protect me. And if something happens to Julie, I'm there to protect her. If something happens to the both of us, we're both in shit.
You grow a bond with somebody who shares those moments with you. You share the scary moments and talk about what else is scary in your life outside of boating because that naturally comes up. Talk about crushes. Talk about fun adventures you've been on. You talk about everything.”
“I'm very cautious. People will say, ‘Let's go down this rapid. You can go down this easy.’ And, I'll look at it and say, ‘I'm sure I could go down it, but that's not the risk I want to take today.’ I could probably boat some Class V’s. Do I want to boat Class V? No. The consequence in Class V is death and I value my life so much that I want to style some Class IV’s in a play boat and feel confident leading people down new Class IV’s. But no, I don't want to go in Class V and risk my life.
On most Class V’s, you're in it alone. For me, kayaking is a group sport. You need other people there to stoke you up, to keep you safe, to run your safety, to make sure that your boat and your paddle don't go downstream. But, you really are on your own in a Class V. No one else can really help you. So that's not something I aspire to do in my life.”
“It can be a struggle to feel like you belong and just feel safe to ask questions like pronouns. If you're on a big trip, and you don't know everybody on the trip, and your name is Al, and you are a woman presenting human, it's pretty easy to get the questions like, ‘Is that short for something? Is that really your real name? Why do you use those pronouns?’
There's just a lot of conversations that can be really uncomfortable to have with people as a queer person. You choose when to have those conversations. You should choose when to have those conversations. On the river, you don't always get that privilege. So it’s hard.
I get out on the river with friends who use they/them pronouns and trying to ensure that people are using the correct pronouns just doesn't always happen. There are a lot of conservative men who come out and go fishing on rivers who don't really care about pronouns, don't care about your gender identity.
Going out on the river and kissing women and having a safe place to feel like I can stop in an eddy and show love to my partner doesn’t exist everywhere. I'm lucky. I surround myself with queer people, with allies, with women where I do feel safe now. When I first started boating, that was not the case. That was something I had to hide, but not anymore. Thankfully, we live in a pretty great place.”
“I don't think there's enough queer representation in the sport. As much as there isn't enough women representation, there aren’t enough queer people in the sport. Getting on a river and seeing a bunch of men around you is one thing and can make you feel anxious, can make you feel scared. Seeing some women definitely calms those nerves, but queerness is not something you really see.
Sometimes, it can be obvious. Sometimes people have good gaydars and you can tell. But, a lot of the time, they just look like everyone else, especially under all of your gear. So, one day I decided that I wanted to put a rainbow on my PFD to hopefully identify to other people that there's a safe space here. There’s a person you can go to who's queer.
Once I put it in on my PFD, everyone else wanted one. So now, all of my crew who identify as queer or who are very strong allies have rainbows on their PFDs. Now, we go down big rivers on multi-days and and people will point it out and say, ‘Oh my gosh, you're gay,’ or ‘I like your rainbow.’ It instantly creates this connection with people who you might not ever see again. So, I love the little rainbows.
Now we have pride paddles which are great. There's a pride paddle in Eugene and a pride paddle on the White Salmon this year. It’s awesome to create that intersectionality between boating, women, queerness and all these and thems and in betweens.
We need it out there. It's not enough to just be a woman on the river and expect there to be safe spaces so I was hoping to provide a safer space by wearing some rainbow paraphernalia.”
