When spring arrives in Maine, it’s not uncommon to see cars, trucks and SUVs with a canoe or kayak (or two) strapped to their roofs.

Canoe racers, we often think, assuming that all the people we pass on the highways are the same folks who flock to local streams and rivers each weekend to compete in a variety of whitewater events.

Not so fast.

Paddlers (and the boats they spend their time in) come in all shapes and sizes nowadays. And those paddlers participate in their chosen sport for a variety of reasons.

Some paddlers do so for utilitarian reasons: They simply want to get from here to there … or to access their favorite remote fishing spots.

Others opt for stable sea kayaks, and use their boats to visit and explore Maine’s many picturesque harbor islands.

Still others – the ones you may read about each Monday during the racing season – paddle for speed, as well as for the recreational benefits. They get a kick out of testing themselves against others who share their passion for competition.

Truth be told, many paddlers belong to many of these varied groups, depending on the time of year, the water level, and the kind of recreation they’re seeking on a given day.

Some of the state’s most avid paddlers, however, are the ones that you may not see. Their competition is largely internal: They compete against themselves … and they need a raging river to do that.

They test themselves against obstacles many of us would choose to portage around. They may race from time to time … but they’re far more passionate about the less-constrictive adventures they construct for themselves.

They’re guys like Dave Smallwood of Holden.

During the work week, Smallwood is a banker. But all it takes is one visit to his office to realize that paddling is important to him, too.

A photo tells you that: It shows one man … vaulting off a waterfall … dropping into raging torrent below.

Smallwood is that man.

The other day, Smallwood joined 1,024 other paddlers at the starting line of the Kenduskeag Stream Canoe Race. For a guy who spends as much time on (and in) the water as he does, you’d think the scene would have been familiar.

It wasn’t.

“I haven’t raced in probably 15 years,” he said shortly after teaming up with Jeff Sands to finish third overall.

“I always paddle the whitewater [instead],” he said. “I go to the West Branch [of the Penobscot] a lot. And I usually play where we have to portage [in this race].”

In paddler parlance, “play” is something you do when a river rises up, tosses a few monster standing waves in your way, and dares you to hop in your boat and conquer them.

The Flour Mill Dam on the Kenduskeag was one such place. During Saturday’s race, that section was closed – as it is every year. The portage was mandatory.

Smallwood and those like him chuckle at the notion.

“If I’m paddling, that’s where we put in,” he said. “That’s the good stuff.”

Most weekends during the competitive paddling season, you won’t see Dave Smallwood. When the water is up, he heads north.

“I run the big stuff all the time,” he said.

The West Branch. Gulf Hagas. The Mattawamkeag. All are more attractive to him than competing in an hour-long race … then wishing he could play some more.

“If we go ‘Creekin’ we sneak up [to Gulf Hagas],” Smallwood said. “It’s real nice. Usually, when water’s running good, I’m up around the Mattawamkeag or something good.”

On Saturday, he joined the masses … paddled hard … had fun … and finished well.

It was a nice change of pace after 15 years away from competitive paddling.

This weekend? Don’t expect to see Smallwood racing.

Especially if the water is running good.

The big stuff is waiting … somewhere.

Anglers are, by nature, a secretive lot. Ask one to reveal a favorite secret spot, and you’re likely to be rebuffed … as well as placed on the fisherman’s permanent, not-to-be-trusted list.

According to the unscientific survey I’ve conducted in these pages lately, many anglers aren’t too eager to share information that might get in the way of their own early season enjoyment.

The question was simple (and was spurred by a request by a reader from Eddington, who didn’t want to drive miles and miles just to find some open water to fish): Who’s still got ice? And where has the ice gone out?

After a week of asking the same question, only one reader has stepped forward to let others know where they can go to get some trolling in.

That reader, Mary Wallace, reported on Sunday that Washington County’s Pocomoonshine Lake lost its winter coat earlier that day. She also reported that she saw a golden eagle on Sunday.

It is spring thaw season on our lakes, and more and more are opening up every day.

I’ll be out and about over the next few days and will let you know what I find.

Of course, any readers who choose to pass along the status of their own favorite lakes and ponds are welcome.

John Holyoke can be reached at jholyoke@bangordailynews.net or by calling 990-8214 or 1-800-310-8600.