By: Maya Abbott
Follow 12-year-old Maya Abbott as she runs her first waterfall alongside her hero, world champion kayaker Rivey Mutton – a true journey of courage and growth.
My name is Maya Abbott, and I’m twelve years old. I love kayaking! This summer was special because I did my first overnight trip and went over my first waterfall with my dad, Rivey, and George.
I met River Mutton for the first time two years ago during an extreme sports week. I had tried kayaking before but wasn’t fully hooked. That changed when I saw Rivey compete. Later, at a barbecue at my house, I got to meet her in person.
Even though she had come second in the world championships, Rivey was incredibly friendly, kind, and humble.
She was a young female kayaker from New Zealand, and I thought, “That could be me one day.” From then on, I was inspired and started paddling as often as possible. Rivey became my role model.
This year, Rivey returned to Voss after winning the world championships! I really wanted to go kayaking with her, and not only did she say yes, but she also suggested we do an overnight trip. We decided to paddle a section of the Upper Raundalselva that I hadn’t done before. I felt nervous because it would be the hardest river I had attempted.
We drove up the valley and left our car at the takeout point. Loading all of our camping gear and food into the kayaks was challenging, so my dad and George helped by carrying my gear to keep my boat light. As we set off, I felt a mix of excitement and nerves, knowing there was a waterfall ahead.
The beginning of the section was rocky and shallow. We scouted one of the first rapids together; there was a strong current pushing against a rock, and I was afraid of messing up the line. With my dad on standby with a throw bag and Rivey’s support, I felt more confident. I followed her line and made it through smoothly—I was stoked!
From there, the river became more of a “read and run.” Rivey and I navigated together while my dad followed close behind. At one point, I caught an edge, and I remember thinking, “Don’t flip, Maya, don’t flip.” But I did. The water was shallow, and my hands scraped against the rocks. It was too shallow for me to set up properly for a roll, so I let go of my paddle and pushed myself up from the bottom.
I came up laughing and started hand-paddling until George handed me his paddle, and we quickly retrieved mine.
I felt relieved and proud of how I handled it.
The scenery was stunning: tall pine trees, towering mountains, crisp air, and light-coloured rocks that made the turquoise water look clear and inviting.
We paddled through calmer stretches with some big rapids that I chose to walk around. I even snacked on fresh blueberries and enjoyed watching the others paddle. Out of nowhere, a downpour started, making us grateful for our drysuits, but it ended as quickly as it came.
There were more big rapids that I decided to walk around and some fun smaller ones. Eventually, we reached the confluence, where the river became bigger and deeper. Before long, we arrived at the waterfall where we planned to camp. It looked both beautiful and terrifying, with turquoise water surging down two main channels and a big pool at the bottom surrounded by smooth rock slabs. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to paddle it—I felt tired from the day’s challenges—but part of me really wanted to try.
Instead, I chose to walk around the waterfall and over the rocks to our camping spot. The area was breathtaking: a long, sandy beach backed by a forest. We set up our tarp on the beach using our paddles and a throwbag. Then we ventured into the forest to gather firewood and stumbled upon an amazing blueberry patch. We snacked on popcorn as a starter, followed by my dad’s homemade dahl bhat for dinner. Exploring the campsite, we discovered colourful rocks and even a small hot pool that felt warm after paddling. We ended the night with chocolate for dessert and shared stories around the campfire. The sound of the river beside us was soothing, and the waterfall’s roar accompanied me as I fell asleep.
Despite my fear, I felt grateful and lucky to be there with Rivey, George, and my dad.
In the morning, I woke up and went blueberry-picking with Rivey. I told her about Mariann Sæter’s presentation at the Sjoa Festival this year—how she’d scouted Aldeyarfoss multiple times, walked away, and only after seeing it from a different angle did she find her line.
Rivey’s eyes lit up, and she said, “I think you can do the drop.
Her words gave me a surge of confidence.
Over breakfast—porridge with fresh blueberries—I felt both excited and nervous. I bombarded everyone with questions about my line. My dad reassured me, “Don’t overthink it. Wait until you’re at the top in your gear.” That advice helped me stay calm.
After packing up, we walked to the top of the waterfall. My heart pounded as we discussed the line, and I took deep breaths to steady myself. Rivey went first, demonstrating the route perfectly. I knew what I had to do. I splashed my face with water, took some deep breaths, and started paddling toward the left side, focusing on the rock where I needed to boof. I pulled hard, my mind clear and my blade steady in the water. When I landed and resurfaced, a huge smile broke out on my face as I paddled toward Rivey.
I felt an overwhelming joy that made me want to shout.
Rivey pulled me into a big hug, and that moment meant the world to me.
Rivey is my role model, not just because of her incredible skills, but because she’s kind, humble, and always willing to spend time with “little Maya from Voss.” She inspired me to be a kayaker, and I hope to be like her one day.
Did you have a role model when you started kayaking? Remember how much you can inspire up-and-coming kayakers, not just through your achievements but through the way you act and connect with those around you.
