Duncan Houlton’s SUP Adventure on the Rhine in Germany
Hmmmmmmmm, 100 kilometers on an iSUP?
Possible? Yes, but as I discovered twice last year, not so simple.
Riverman Duncan Houlton
On the Rhine, my average speed of 7 kilometers per hour reaches 10 when the conditions are right, so it's just a matter of paddling for 10 hours. No problem, or so I thought. Since my friend Rolf mentioned wanting to do 100 kilometers, I couldn't get it out of my head; I had to paddle this magical number.
A headwind at Mannheim thwarted my first try after 72 kilometres. I was disappointed but happy with my speed and not too tired. My second attempt was more challenging because of the high temperatures and what felt like hundreds of speedboats, jet skis and big ships. I usually have no problem with waves, but this situation lasted 40 kilometres! It slowed me down, made me tired, and meant I didn't get into the long-distance groove necessary for a trip like this. I ended up in Mainz after 73 Kilometres and getting off the river for two reasons, it was getting dark, and I had lights with me, but the stretch of the river after Mainz is narrow and can be dangerous with waterfalls. I marked it as a strategic mistake and decided to wait until the following spring to try again.
On the first of May 2021, I paddled 40 kilometers from Ketsch to Lampertheim, and everything felt OK. I spent the next three weeks waiting for a good weather window. Rain is not a problem for me, but the wind was not cooperating. I decided to go on the following Saturday as long as the wind wasn't completely against me. The forecast was not particularly good, with strong winds from the southwest (tailwind from the left) and gale-force gusts. Despite people telling me not to go, I decided that with my skills and experience, it was right to #justgoanyway. On the twenty-first of May, I took the 06.07 train to Karlsruhe and spent two hours looking out the window to see what the wind was doing. After pumping up my sup and optimising my luggage placement, water, food, and clothing were exactly where I needed them. I captured my first photograph of the day—the Rhine kilometre sign 362—while visualising the 462 sign 100 kilometers later. At 08:30, I turned my tracker on and took the first paddle stroke of the roughly 33,333 I had ahead of me.
362 km Sign
The weather was sunny and warm, and the wind was blowing strong from the southwest, precisely as predicted. I didn't seem to be moving fast, but I knew I was. My strategy for long distances is as follows: Every 10 kilometers, I take a short break to keep hydrated, eat and take a picture of the kilometers sign. This means I always take "bite-sized pieces", small steps leading to the larger goal. 10 kilometers typically takes a little less than an hour; I can hold an average speed of roughly 10 kilometers per hour. Today, however, things were different, very different! At kilometre 372, I was pleasantly surprised to see an elapsed time of 45 minutes! The same for the next 10 kilometers too. I didn't want to get my hopes up too much and concentrated on paddling and nothing else. However, I began to believe it was possible to achieve my dream.
The following 10 were a tad slower, but I felt fit and confident that I could keep at this pace for the next 7-8 hours. The Rhine was now taking a long left turn to the west, yes, into the wind…
The next 15 kilometers consisted of paddling only on the right-hand side, the whole right-hand side, and nothing but the right-hand side! Physically, everything was OK, but I wondered what surprises would come my way. The Rhine had a lot more bends in store for me. After paddling past the spires of Speyers cathedral, I decided to take the side arm at Ketsch. This was a longer and slower-moving stretch of water, but I needed a break from the constant wind. Samahan tea and fruit revived my mind and body, and I was back onto the main body of the river sooner than expected. At Rhein kilometers 411, I returned to the main channel of the Rhine to stormy gusts from all sides. The river looked more like the Atlantic, with waves up to 4 feet high and eddies and whirlpools en masse.
For the first time ever, I paddled voluntarily on my knees for a couple of kilometres, but at some point, my inner voice told me to stand up and go if I wanted to reach my goal that day. I managed to fight my way to Mannheim (62 kilometers paddled, 40 to go), sit on a bench to eat lunch, and watch the trees bending south in the wind. Back on the water in Mannheim city, this is possibly one of the worst places to be when it's windy. The sheet-piling river walls reflected all waves and sent them back stronger and from all directions! As I crested a vast wave, a gale-force gust picked me up, and I did a backward superman into the water three metres behind my board! With mild shock and no air in my lungs, I took ages to gather my board and paddle. The water was 15°C, but luckily I am used to cold water. It must have looked spectacular as the water police came over to ask if I was OK. I had to paddle another 4 kilometers to get off the water and change because there was no chance in the city.
As I stood on the bank where the Neckar feeds into the Rhine, changing into my dry clothes, I remembered the tears I had shed there when I finished my 200 kilometers Neckar tour in August the previous year. Although I started to doubt myself, my first thought was:
"Now more than ever!"
With fire in my eyes, I paddled the next 15 kilometres only on the right side as the river turned west, and the wind made my life hard again. As I passed the Lampertheim side arm, I thought: "4 kilometres or another 24?" But not for long. I was digging deep, deeper than ever before. I told myself to relax, paddle with a stable triangle and stay loose. I decided to take a break every 5 kilometers. Mentally boosted, I concentrated on my natural touring stroke and somehow forgot to take a break until a police boat sped by, creating a perfect wave I managed to surf for a short distance. At this point, I realised how badly I needed a break. I saw a beach on the right, with two chairs embedded in the sand as if someone knew I was coming.
I sat on the beach and enjoyed the knowledge that I had just another 7 kilometers to go. I called my wife Stephanie to ask if she could pick me up, I pride myself on doing everything by public transport, but this was a special case, and the impending train journey and 4 kilometers walk to the train station seemed like an odyssey too far. As I hung up, I noticed that there was NO WIND! I moved easily over the flat glassy water as if the previous 95 kilometres had been nothing. I stopped to watch my Garmin ticking over to 100! A magical moment for me.
My wife was waiting, cheering me on as I photographed the 461 kilometers sign in Gernsheim. As I deflated my board, I reflected on the day and the preparation leading up to it. I realised with hindsight that my beliefs were the only thing holding me back. Mental strength is the key to everything.
In my endorphin high, the journey home was much faster than expected. My kids celebrated my victory with me, and I was delighted to be home and lying comfortably on the sofa. I realised how far I had pushed myself. One sip of my victory beer, and I almost keeled over.
I was done!
It was a gigantic day full of impressions, pain, doubt, and intense emotions that I will never forget.
See you on the water,
Duncan Houlton
Your Flussmensch.
