Umiak goes to West Fest! Dam Release 2026
At the end of the summer, it can be hard to find whitewater here in Vermont. But every year during the third week of September, magic happens in Jamaica, Vermont, where the West River gets its annual dam release, sending a fresh pulse of water down an 8-mile stretch and enticing whitewater paddlers from far and wide to get a little sendy.
Among those eager paddlers this year were none other than 9 Umiak members, rearing to go!
On Friday, a few of us spent the day getting our boats dialed in. We had a solid mix of kayakers and canoers, with the canoe crew taking on the slightly more involved task of outfitting. Unlike a whitewater kayak, an open canoe needs a bit of extra gear to keep it floating - and ideally, keep its paddler attached to it. We prepped three canoes: two Esquifs, a Prospecteur 15 and 16, and a classic Mad River Freedom. Each was equipped with float bags, painter lines, and thigh straps.
Float bags are heavy-duty, inflatable bladders tied into the bow, stern, and center of an open canoe. Their job is to displace water and provide crucial buoyancy when things inevitably get a little splashy. Painter lines are ropes attached to the bow and stern of a canoe, handy for tying off, towing, and generally convincing your boat to stay where you put it. And thigh straps connect the paddler to the hull, providing maximum control, leverage, and stability - which it turns out is pretty useful when voluntarily pointing a canoe at a giant hole.
Once our boats were ready, we headed for camp!
A few of us stayed at the Winhall Brook Campground, where we were greeted by a lean-to and a fire ring. Simple? Yes. Perfect? Also, yes. Even though we rolled in well after dark, there's something pretty special about arriving at a beautiful place when you can't see a thing and then waking up to discover where you actually are. The night was chilly, but the vibes were high as we curled up into our sleeping bags, listening to the roar of the river in the background - an excellent soundtrack for building anticipation and perhaps questioning whether we had packed enough layers.
Morning brought sunshine, coffee, and muffins, and the ever-reliable fearless leader, Steve Brownlee, who not only provided breakfast but also kindly trailered our boats around for us. We made our logistical plan for shuttles, boat drops, and gear, because as any river paddler knows, getting down the river is only half the battle. You also have to figure out how to get yourself - and your boat - back to where you started.
Once the cars were dropped, the boats were staged, and everyone had their gear sorted, Steve gave us a quick refresher on basic paddle strokes, catching and peeling out of eddies, and some good old-fashioned river reading. (He really just can't help himself). Luckily, our kayaker friends met up with us just in time, and we were ready to get on to the river. Finally!
And right off the bat, we were in the waves!
We soared through the left channel as the bows of our boats sliced through the current; we plowed through the Trailer Park Rapid - a fun, splashy wave train without heavy technical difficulty - just enough excitement to get everyone cheesing.
We stopped for a quick snack before the infamous Ducky Dump and took some time to watch the kayakers in their wave sports, playboating in the surf. The Ducky Dump, also known as Ducky Dumpling, is considered the most difficult feature on this lower section of the river. Rated at class III, it sits near the tail end of the trip and features a couple of rather large, punchy holes.
Our instructions were simple: stay left. The left side offers the friendliest line for a canoeist and provides the easiest route through the feature.
Instead, we all sent it straight through those big washing-machine holes.
Best. Run. Ever.
At the bottom of this rapid is a lovely recovery pool, perfect for us to empty a little water from our boats, hang out, and watch the next round of paddlers make their way through.
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And because apparently one trip through Ducky Dump wasn't enough, a couple of us decided to attain back upriver left and have another go - this time specifically to surf a hole. When you find good whitewater in Vermont in September, you don't waste it.
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After a few rounds of surfing, cheering, and questioning some of our life choices, we eventually decided we probably had enough fun for one day and made our way off river. Eight miles of sunshine, roaring water, questionable lines, and big grins later, we hauled our boats out, completely stoked, soaked and a little bit sore.
There is something pretty special about watching a group of paddlers come together like this - some seasoned river rats, some newer to the whitewater game, and everyone equally eager to get a little sendy. We loaded up the boats, piled into the cars, and headed back to camp with the kind of tired that only a full day on the river can deliver. The fire was waiting; stories got progressively bigger, and somewhere between reliving the Ducky Dump and insisting that "actually, that line was totally intentional", we knew we'd just had one heck of a weekend. Until next year, West Fest - keep those waves warm for us. The Umiak crew will be back for the send.
