Kayaks: They’re intoxicating fun

I’m a tremendous multitasker.

I have been able to walk, talk and breathe at the same time for much of my life, discounting the year and a half I spent as a mute cripple post-birth.

So when I was presented with an opportunity to engage in both whitewater kayaking and some excessive competitive drinking in the same weekend on the Kern River, I jumped at it.

Call it extreme sports: Redbeard division.

I considered myself an expert kayaker based on my experiences navigating the choppy and uncharted seas of Marina del Rey, and thanks to being half Irish, I considered myself half an expert drinker.

What this past weekend really proved is that I am always right.

First, kayak is a palindrome. I just realized that. Cool.

Second, kayaking down a river is a lot harder than it looks or sounds.

Our guide started by having us put on wet suits, which was not pleasing to anyone’s aesthetic values. Typically, wet suits are not required for floating down a river, but given the 40-degree temperature of the water, they were mandatory. Some time in May they stop forcing customers to look like out-of-shape spacemen.

Our kayaks were inflatable, meaning that they were bulky and tough to maneuver, and that we were less likely to die a gruesome death than if we were to be in a hard shell.

So we had that going for us, which was nice.

We were bused to our drop-off point where we were given safety instructions such as “don’t die” and “paddle into the waves.”

I quietly scoffed. What kind of river had waves?

Apparently, the Kern River ““ and pretty much any river with rocks in it (all of them).

The most difficult set of rapids we navigated was, on the scale of one to six (with one being Marina del Rey-esque and six being you-are-going-to-die), a three-plus. I don’t know exactly what that means, but I do know that on my second run through it, my kayak pinwheeled out of control the entire time, and I disproved every known physical law by not being upended and having my brains dashed on various rocks.

In fact, not a single time on this four-hour kayaking trip did I fall out of the kayak, and I attribute this to a combination of my catlike agility and the old saying that God protects fools, drunks and children.

So ““ sore, wet and tired, we finished our second run down the river. On that second run, I switched from a kayak with a good backrest to a kayak with no backrest. This left my abs and hips in a curious state of woe, thus confirming that being in good physical shape is a nice prerequisite for intense physical activity. Who knew?

After conquering the river, we made a strategic retreat to our cabin, where it came into our heads to attempt a far more impressive feat than floating down a river: Century Club.

For those of you who are not alcoholics or general degenerates, the Century Club dictates that one take a 1.5-ounce shot of beer every minute for 100 minutes. It comes out to 12.5 beers in an hour and 40 minutes.

I strongly advise that you not attempt it, given that one of my friends threw up about 25 minutes in, and no one was left after the 74th minute.

Besides me.

Yes, confirming that I am as close to superhuman as an exceedingly average human being can get, I finished Century Club and then proceeded to get to an even 13 beers just to give it a nice round ending.

UCLA. Champions made here.

E-mail Woods at [email protected] right here. Right now. Right UCLA.