Into Washington

After more than 2 months of gypsy living, we finally took a break in White Salmon, thanks to our Uncle Jim and Aunt Cindy who have called it home for something like 40 years hosting us for about 10 days despite being super busy preparing for their daughter's wedding.  We spent quite a few of those days enjoying the Little White and Green Truss and even got to paddle with our Dad from Husum to the Columbia through the old Condit Dam site.

 TJ boofing into Husum Falls.  Photo: SJ

 JJ cruising into the big hole on the Lower White Salmon.  Photo: TJ

Our dad in action on the Lower White Salmon.  Photo: TJ 

JJ boofing into Stovepipe on the Little White Salmon.  Photo: TJ 

JJ with another Spirit Falls lap.  So Good!  Photo: TJ 

Eventually the water was running low in White Salmon and all out family had left following our cousin's wedding, so it was time to head north to the Ohanepecosh and the Upper Upper Cispus (after one more Green Truss lap).  We had great times with big crews on both runs despite low water on the Ohane and high water on the Cispus which unfortunately drove most of the crew to walk out at Behemoth.

Unknown paddler on the classic Ohanepecosh waterfall.  Photo: TJ 

Unknown paddler crushing the Ohanepecosh waterfall.  Photo: JJ 

Joe Keck getting amongst it in Elbow Room.  Photo: JJ

JJ probing a large hole at the Island Drop on the Upper Upper Cispus.  Photo: TJ 

Despite premium juicy flows on the Upper Upper Cispus, we decided to head on in search of what this trip was all about... camping out of our boats on beautiful remote rivers.  In Washington this means one thing, we were headed to the Olympic Peninsula!

The Summer That Never Was

After returning from California, I had a few weeks of family and work obligations through the 4th of July weekend and then a few weeks before I was supposed to head to the Alsek for 2.5 weeks of wilderness.  I returned from a great July 4th weekend of backpacking in the Catskills with my girlfriend to find that everyone back in the Southeast had been enjoying the best mid-summer flows in years.  Fortunately and quite surprisingly, frequent afternoon thundershowers maintained water levels enough that I was able to sneak out for some after work sessions on Tremont, the Little, and a quick trip over the mountains to the Raven Fork.

Mike Reber was able to get off early enough on Friday that we started our weekend off with another after work Raven Fork lap.  That place is so lush and beautiful in the summer.  Things went smooth and we were off the river just before dark and heading to Bryson to crash with my friend Raymond.  The morning came and we went to check Toxaway, a little too low.  On to Horsepasture, way too high.  Not sure what to do we weighed options for a minute before heading to Overflow.  It was 1 ft. when we got there which is lower than ideal but we were ready for some boating. 

There were a bunch of vehicles at the bottom but no boaters, so we just headed to the top.  We had a few interesting lines due to the low flows, but in general the day was working out great and it was a treat to be there when it was warm and the flowers were blooming.  We quickly arrived at Three Forks and I asked Mike if he wanted to check out Big Creek.  He knew nothing about it but is generally down for whatever so we went on a little getting lost in the woods and checking out waterfalls mission.  When we got back to Three Forks we weighed our options: it was getting late in the afternoon and we had no shuttle, but it was only 1/2 mile and we had already scouted it out.  The decision was made to just go for it, leaving shuttle to work itself out (at worst a 10 mile jog).

Mike letting Gravity take over.

Mike catching the first of quite a few bounces down Singley's Falls

My favorite part about Overflow is the mini gorges.  Mike finishes up the last one: Twilight.

We made pretty quick work of the hike, arriving sweaty and hot at the bottom of Thunderdome.  A huge tree prevented dropping in to the final tier, so we cooled off and geared up.  A funky pinch, a junky woody mess, a mini gorge, an off vert 20 fter and a great double drop brought us to the last slide into Three Forks.  To this point, the run had lived up to all the scouting expectations.  The last slide had looked like a nasty junk fest from our earlier river right scout.  From our mid-stream scout, things were looking better.  Center left driving right to avoid the shelf on the bottom left.  I committed, coming through the entrance exactly as imagined.  Unfortunately, I wavered slightly from my plan with a touch of hesitation, allowing myself to slip too far left with no right momentum.  It seemed to not be a big deal until the final reconnect turned my angle and momentum straight left into the shelf and a world of hurt.  See the last shot of Mike's video below - it was a lot worse than it looks.

Too bad the log was in the way.  It's still a powerful place.

Mike droppin' the biggest one on Big Creek

Mike cruising into a juicy little mini gorge

Mike grinding a huge boof.  This might be the best move in the whole Chattooga drainage?

The wood wasn't as nasty as it appears in this photo

Southeast in the Summertime 6-14-2013 from Michael Reber on Vimeo.

I was upright and my right ankle was numb from the pain.  I eddied out and hopped out of my boat.  The pain level was still high but I had no choice but to get my bulkhead back into alignment and keep going.  Mike came down a few minutes later, having narrowly avoided a similar line.  With no time to spare, I floated through Igor and caught the eddy above Marginal.  I hobbled down while Mike portaged my boat before going and portaging his own boat.  We rallied through to Pinball and Mike portaged my boat again.  At this point the swelling in my ankle was getting bad enough that my paddle had to be repurposed to a crutch.  Mike ran through Pinball and we were off stroking for the take out.  I had to stop a few times to let the pain subside, but we made it.  Fortunately upon arriving at the take out, we ran into Charles, who was a shuttler for Scott, who was completing the last lap of an Overflow vertical mile that day who not only agreed to help us with shuttle but also had some ice for my ballooning ankle.  Big thanks to those two for taking pity on me and helping in all ways possible.  I sat on the side of the road with the ankle iced and elevated as the rain misted down, just waiting for Mike's return.  Self-diagnosis at this point was a badly sprained ankle and I was hoping I could walk it off in time to make the Alsek trip in a week.

Self portrait at the take out.  The boat healed itself a lot faster than I did.

I offered to run shuttle the next day if Mike wanted to stay in NC but he was tired and feeling bad for me, so we pressed home to Knoxville.  We made it back by midnight and I stayed at Mike's cause driving with a busted right ankle didn't seem smart.  We chilled and watched some movies the next day while icing and elevating my ankle.  The thing just continued to balloon.

I went to work on Monday and decided part way through the day that I should get an x-ray since the swelling was still increasing.  I went to the clinic at work and got my ankle x-rayed.  They didn't see anything definitive but they were nervous about ligaments and tendons and declared me unfit for work and sent me to an orthopedic right then and there.  The orthopedic was able to fit me in that afternoon and was about to say my x-rays looked okay when something subtle caught his eye and he declared that I had broken my Calcaneus (heel bone).  I was quickly put in a hard splint and signed up for a CT scan and follow up later in the week.  I was still holding on to hope for going to Alaska, thinking that maybe the x-ray was so subtle that the bone wasn't broken.

Fast forward to my follow up, and within a couple of minutes of walking through the CT scan it's clear that my Calcaneus is indeed fractured, although in an abnormal fashion.  The doctor wasn't sure whether or not I needed surgery so he referred me to a foot specialist.  What is clear is that I won't be starting to walk for at least another 6-8 weeks.  Crushed, I go home and cancel my flight to Alaska about 26 hours before I was set to leave, informing my family and friends they'll be doing the Alsek without me.

It feels like forever waiting until my visit with the foot specialist on the following Tuesday.  When I finally get there she examines my foot and looks at my CT scan with some degree of perplexion.  She identifies that I have sheared my sustentaculum tali off the inside of my Calcaneus.  She goes through a myriad of options outloud with me, ultimately deciding that I should wait and see how it heals, but qualifying that statement with the need to get some second opinions on my unusual break.  I go home and start researching my condition, and it sounds like if I want to walk without a limp and on uneven ground, I need the surgery.  I decide to give the doctor a few days to check with her sources before pressing things.

The next morning at 8am I get a call from the doctor's assistant letting me know that I need to have surgery.  About 2 minutes later I get a call from the surgery scheduler saying I'll be having a pre-op screening the next day and surgery the following day.  Given my research the night before, this is exactly what I was looking for (eventually walking properly is well worth a little pain and an extracted recovery), so I signed up.

One of these is not like the other.  And this is after 12 days of ice and elevation.  This also might win a nasty ass feet contest.

I'm first in line for Friday, requiring a 5:30 am drop off at the hospital.  I'm whisked away to my room, put in a gown, and taken to the anesthesia area.  They shave my foot and leg and insert an IV.  As they are setting up the local block on my leg, the Versed kicks in and my memory turns off.  I awaken back in the same room around 10:30 with some new hardware in my foot.  Quickly, my awareness grows and I realize that my local block has already worn off.  Fortunately, the pain isn't too bad.  I end up waiting about 1.5 hours for a discharge room to open before they take me out of the anesthesia area (pretty interesting watching people slowly come to).  In the discharge room they feed me water and crackers (requisites for leaving) and a Percocet after a little arguing that I don't need it.  The nurses definitely looked at me like I was crazy when I followed up trying to refuse the pain pill with telling my roommate we won't need to fill the prescription I was given.

I spend that afternoon and the next 3 days sitting on the couch with my foot elevated under a bag of ice constantly refilled from the cooler next to me.  I'm bored out of my mind but the pain isn't too bad (no where close to the shoulder surgery) and I don't have to eat my words about not needing the pain pills.  Overall, I'm pretty useless as every time I start hopping around on my crutches the blood pressure in my foot creeps up followed shortly by a throbbing pain.  It's a good reminder to lay back down, elevate, and throw the ice back on.

This is how I spent the majority of the first 3.5 days.

Now, 5 days out from surgery, the pain and swelling have come down quite a bit.  I've gone to work the last two days which is quite a bit less boring than sitting on the couch.  The worst is over, but I still have a long road ahead of me.  I should go from hard splint to boot and get the stitches removed in about 3 weeks, and be starting weight bearing in 6-8 weeks.  Then it should be another 4 weeks before I'm walking without a crutch, walker, or cane.  I've been told I'll be close to full speed in 4-5 months, but only time will tell.

A huge thanks to my friends who have helped me out along the way so far.  I couldn't have done it without you and you have treated me far better than I deserve.  It's been rough going through this without my parents and brother for support (they're incommunicado on the Alsek and don't even know I had surgery), but between all of you and my extended family, I've been able to deal quite well.

Obviously I've done a lot of thinking about what happened.  The rapid was not above my head, and knowing what happened, I could probably run it 100 times in a row without smashing that shelf.  The missing ingredient was focus.  It was exactly the same case as when I dislocated my shoulder 3 years ago.  And it's not that I'm someone who takes paddling class V and the associated dangers lightly.  I just need to find a way to keep that same focus for every rapid, regardless of how innocuous it looks.

The other factor is that the bulkhead system I was using probably contributed to the extent of my injuries.  I was paddling a Pyranha Karnali (I love that boat) with a modified bulkhead as I find the stock one to be far too flexible (I mangle it paddling flatwater).  My modified system consisted of a set of old dagger aluminum rails attached to a U-channel with the Pyranha foot plate on the front (similar to an LL set up).  I only had 1 inch of foam on this plate, but the key mistake is that the U-channel was too high on the plate.  Therefore, upon impact my heel bent the bottom of the plate forward, violently hyperdorsiflexing my foot (bending the top of my foot towards my shin), which the doctors claim led to my Calcaneus fracture.  I hit hard enough that I was probably going to do damage regardless, but additional foam and the support channel in the right place likely would have prevented my heel from breaking.  Good thing I have plenty of time to do some bulkhead experimentation before the next time I paddle.

Safety first,

Jim

Hunting the White Elephant

There were so many times during this day that we could have turned back. But instead we pushed on, searching for that fleeting beauty so pure that it seems to escape whenever it's within grasp. Kirk and I had stayed patient, avoiding the temptation of the sure thing at dawn. We had stayed true to adventure, avoiding the sure good thing of the West Prong or Ramsey. We almost derailed due to last second hang ups at work, but finally we found ourselves rallying for Upper Santeetlah Creek, or as Kirk put it, hunting the white elephant. Chasing rumored perfection, given enough water to float our boats, open forest service gates, and a creek that can be chocked full of the huge hemlocks which line its lush banks.

There had been days before that we had thought about heading up there before, but twice bitten leaves a man timid, and Kirk had been bitten more than twice. Whether it was low water or closed gates, he had always been shut down, relegating a day full of opportunity back to the Tellico. Fortunately, enthusiasm is contagious, and despite his misgivings on the way ("we're going to check the Santeetlah level and paddle the Tellico... at least it won't be low"), we chugged through the thick fog that blanketed the skyway. At our turn, the first hurdle was delayed, but after several corners we found a forest service gate open. Then, we got our first glance of the river, which looked mighty low from way up high. It still did when we made it to the bridge. About an inch below the footer. Good thing after all the effort, we're not snobs. Besides, exploration always trumps the familiar.

With expectations as low as the water, we put on, hoping to experience the place without destroying our boats. As the boulders gave way to bedrock, we were pleasantly surprised. The creek was living up to the reputation, and the high quality shined through despite the low water. And for the most part the large hemlocks we saw were on the banks, and not in the creek. I must admit, I'm not always into micro creeks, but Upper Santeetlah is the best one I've ever paddled. It was golden.


   









 
All Photos JJ.

California 2010

The plan for this year's Cali trip was a little different than last's. Tom and Christian weren't going to make it out until Monday, due to Christian's graduation, so the plan was to boat some slightly chiller stuff with my old buddy Daniel until the Colorado boys showed up and we really get into the flow.

We were split between going south for the Tule and Kaweah stuff or going north for Trinity tributaries, but in the end, the decision was made to go north. After a late night arrival into Sac, we got a little sleep before pulling many hours north to the Weaverville area.

The first day's plan was to do a quicky on Coffee creek. The first mile on one of the forks was pretty good and featured non-stop mini-gorge-ish boating. After the forks combined, the creek completely dechannelized from there to the take out. Honestly it was pretty low quality and dangerous for the difficulty due to a lack of eddies and lots of blind turns. I can't really recommend this run to anyone, but nonetheless it was great to be out on the water with my old Cali paddling buddies and a few new ones.

The next day we headed out to Lower Hayfork Creek, which while being kind of roadside, the road was 1000 ft. up and the river was way down in a deep gorge, looked enticing. So, with a crack of noon start, we put on at a flow of about 600, which was a little less than optimal. After a long warmup, the rapids started to build until we found ourselves in a pretty good stretch. Lots of class IV and maybe a little bit of class V. Then, after a short break, we were back into it, with more good rapids in a nice gorge setting. We eventually found the mandatory portage, which must have changed cause it is certainly no longer mandatory. At our flow, I wouldn't call it classic,but it might get significantly better with additional flow.

Unfortunately for our final day up north, Daniel's shoulder was feeling not up to snuff and Mike and Jonas had returned to Sac, so it was just Diane and I. After reviewing the options we settled on the New River Gorge. On the way there, the nerves definitely started as lots of heavy rain fell; however, they were somewhat relieved as we climbed to higher elevation and the snow set in, minimizing the chances for a fast rising river. We put on in the snow off the Denny road, hurrying to stay warm and ahead of the potential rising flows from the rain. After lots of warm up and one bear sighting, we arrived at the start of the gorge. There were maybe 10 big water creeky rapids before the portage, none of which were particularly locked in, but some of which featured some nasty pockets and undercuts. Somewhere in there we also had a playful encounter with a river otter. Always nice to see the real residents having fun on their home turf. The portage actually looked pretty good, but the risk, small group size, and inclement weather added up to a quick portage on the left. Once you portage, you arrive at the super walled in blind faith. It looked extremely difficult to portage and very difficult to scout, so we decided to just go for it. It turns out it's about a 15 ft. ramp down the left wall into a walled out and rowdy run out, probably the best rapid on the run. From there more walled in but more scoutable stuff took us through tombstone and final falls, and the one right above the confluence with the big hole, and down to the confluence with the Trinity, where we ran some great big water rapids on the run out of Burnt Ranch Gorge with about 8000 cfs in the river. This is definitely a regional classic, although too much paddle in detracts slightly, but the walled in scenery and rapids are top notch.

New River Gorge: Looking Into Blind Faith. Photo Diane Gaydos.

Diane Getting a little too Far Right at Tombstone. Photo JJ.

Beautiful Walls, Beautiful Whitewater. An Easy One on NRG. Photo Diane Gaydos.

From there, we said goodbye to the Trinity drainage and headed back to Sac, where Tom, Christian, and Dustin were supposed to converge that night. Unfortunately a late season snow storm closed I-80 so Tom and Christian spent the night in Truckee before arriving in Sac around noon. Options were discussed and we decided to rally to the South Branch for a quick afternoon lap.

We finally made it to the put in somewhere around 3:30 and quickly geared up so we could rally on down to the take out before dark. All I can say is that the South Branch delivers in a big way. We had just a hair of water going over the gauge rock just downstream of the put in which corresponds to a nice padded medium. From the put in, bedrock mini gorge rapids build slowly for a few miles. Even though it's super low volume and easy, the quality of the rapids are fantastic. I think the whole run has like two shitty rapids. Eventually, the verticality starts to pick up, and after bombing through one walled out mini gorge with a few big holes and some logs at the bottom, the run pretty much turns to 100% top quality waterfalls and slides. This run probably has as many clean 20ish ft. waterfalls as most people paddle in a season. It's just lots of relatively low stress fun.

Silly Waterfall Fun. Christian and Jim Paddling. All Photos TJ.

Then, as you get to the end of the run, the heat starts to pick up. A super shallow double drop which hurts when run properly and can certainly dish out injuries with unpure lines signals your arrival. From there, one double slide takes you to the lip of a autoboofing 20 fter towards a wall with one eddy between you and the ugly 40 fter known as 99 problems. Although all the lines I've seen off this beast have been smooth, I really don't have any interest in running anything with that kind of risk. Huge piton potential. A tight line. And, too top it off, a line ending in a blown skirt, broken paddle, or injury might well result in blowing the eddy below China and an inadvertent first d of the 80 fter downstream (at least it looks like you'd have a chance of surviving). For those portaging, you still end up running China, a slide right above the 80 fter with a hole that wants to take you to China. It doesn't look too bad, but on day 2 I was nonchalant and plugged, resulting in a huge back loop. I hit an immediate roll and still had to turn the burners on to catch the eddy. Definitely a high stress slide.

From there, a quick lowering of boats on river right brings you to the perfect waterfall. It weighs in there as the world's easiest 45ish ft waterfall, owing to a rolling lip and high angle reconnect just before landing. The downside is that the wide waterfall produces little aeration so hard hits and broken paddles are regular occurrences. Fortunately we had no broken paddles in our 3 laps, but we were all using Werner straight shafts. The AT crew didn't have as good of luck, with a 75% breakage rate. Still, I think next time I run the South Branch I'll probably bring hand paddles.

Below the waterfall you move to river right and catch an eddy on the edge of the world, as the river falls 500 ish ft. over many large waterfalls in the next quarter mile. Truly a breathtaking take out. From there, through the boat on your shoulder for about 30 minutes of grovelling with the mosquitoes giving the motivation to keep moving.

Now, I'm not usually one to just hang out and do the same run multiple times on a boating trip, there's just too many places I've never been, but the South Branch was good enough to warrant this treatment. So after a not so early start, we decided to bang out two laps of high quality waterfalls. We made it, with sore backs and necks and a broken ear drum from the 50 fter. It was a great day, with possibly more high quality paddling than I've ever done in a day, but I'm getting too old to hold up to the pounding of that many waterfalls.

With temperatures getting warmer, time getting limited, and the Kimshew gate still closed, we decided to limit our driving and head over to try to do the Little North Fork. We headed down the hill from the South Branch to discover lowish looking flows, but it was hard to tell with the flood blowout at the confluence. I decided to scale up the gorge a little ways to find the flows looked healthier in the more channelized riverbed. So we were on, and after a few hours of shuttling on decent roads, we made it to the bridge over the LNF. Again, flows looked low but adequate, so we put on planning on a leisurely two days back down to Milsap.

The river started off great. Beautiful water, California sun, and what turned out to be a pretty nice flow. Lots of bedrock class IV filled the first few miles, although the rock was much sharper than the South Branch. Eventually we came to the first gorge, which features a 20 fter with the narrowest of landings. Although runnable, none of us wanted anything to do with it, so we seal launched river right and immediately ferried across for another scout. Dusty was the only one who like the next double drop, although it was certainly much more reasonable than the first.

The Nasty Slot Drop... Tail Between Legs. Photo TJ.

Dustin Double Drop... Flying High. Photo TJ.

Soon after, the walls backed off and we were back into class IV boogie for a while. Probably 3 or 4 miles from the put in, we ran a 10 ft slide before eddying out above a huge horizonline at Jaroslav's Falls, a just slightly off vert 30 fter with a trick lead in and a bad pocket on the right. The problem with the lead in was that it narrowed and banked right before fanning out for the drop, where you wanted to head left to avoid the pocket. Somewhat successful lines were had by all, although I did a few inverted spins in the river left eddy. The rapid immediately following was the one thing we had been warned about in advance. At first glance it doesn't look bad, but closer inspection reveals two poorly placed sieves which have caused near disaster in the past. A small portage/sneak on the left was the easiest way to deal with the sieves.

Over the Lip at Jarislov's. Photo TJ.

Dustin Spawning at Jarislov's. Photo TJ.

Shortly after came a super sweet set of slides before the bed rock took an extended hiatus. I don't remember exact order from there, but there were lots of boulder gardens, ranging from easy to difficult and smooth to jumbled piles of shit. Somewhere we came to a lake, an odd sight on a small steep creek in the feather drainage that got us thinking one thing... landslide. Sure enough, it came, and was so close to being a sweet rapid, but the pinch was just too tight, so a 10 minute portage on landslide scree commenced. At this point, we were beginning to think about camp, both because we wanted to save some for the next day, and because the mank was beginning to wear on us.

Lead in to the slides. Photo TJ.

Last of the Stacked Slides. Photo TJ.

For about a mile below the landslide, we ran and portaged some super jumbled stuff. It was all runnable, but we were at the point where running dangerous stuff just because I can be done wasn't in the cards, so we spent a fair amount of time on the banks. Finally, we came to a more channelized looking horizon line. Tom hopped out for a quick scout and smiled sending the rest of us in. It was sweet. A couple juicy holes followed by a move to the left of a big boulder into a juicy slot boof to finish. Unfortunately, Tom ran the bottom slot backwards, breaking the backband of his Nomad. It just happened that when we pulled over to fix the backband, we were at the best camping site we had seen in miles, so a unanimous decision was made to call it a day.

The next morning we lazed around, hoping for the sun to come warm us up, but it took too long due to the narrow gorge. Once we finally got going, it was quite similar to the end of the previous day, although slightly more channelized and walled in. Everything was runnable, but we walked a few due to ill-placed sieves and severe mank. Nonetheless, the run was still pretty fun and the scenery was great with many sections of cliff walls, although nothing truly gorged in.

Somewhere in there, we ran a rapid that started wide and manky before narrowing and charging left through two juicy holes. The walls tightened up a bit and Tom got out to scout quickly, sending Dustin with limited hand signals besides two drops. Soon thereafter, he sent Christian, which is when things got interesting. After Tom started running towards the bottom of the rapid, I hopped out to see Christian throw and endless assortment of cartwheels and loops for 30 seconds without any semblance of control before swimming deep. Fortunately, this one ended in a large pool so we got most of Christian’s gear back.

After Christian stopped coughing up water and cussing at Tom for bombing him into the hole, Tom had to sack up and run it. Unfortunately, from Christian’s standpoint, Tom had a sweet line with a last second lift to plane over the hole and not get his head wet, which left only me. Since it ended in a pool and wasn’t too dangerous, I just had to give it a try. Unlike Tom, I did not get the last second lift and plopped right into the fold against the wall. I fought it for about 30 seconds with a little more control than Christian, but the same result. Best line of the trip captured on the video: Christian, “Oh I wish that was Tom!” It’ll be coming shortly.

From the swim spot on, we ran a little more of the full on boulder gardens before the bedrock started to appear again in the way of a few sweet slides and boofs. Then, all of the sudden we arrived at the horizon line we’d been waiting for: Final Falls, an slide to 25ish ft waterfall. It looked super soft although it was hard to scout the left for a pocket (it turned out to not be bad), so off we fired. Good lines ranging from huge boofs to silky plugs were had by all, truly beautiful spot as well.

Final Falls, JJ Plugging. Photo TJ.

From the falls we heard we were pretty much done, and we were. About a half mile of class IV returned us to Milsap Bar, and the disappoint that the stash of beer we had left the morning before had been raided. Overall, I would say the trip is certainly worth doing, and the large drops are sweet, although probably not every year as it’s just not as classic as a lot of the other stuff in the area. It’s a tough run, and the less than clean boulder rapids wore on us, but everything is portagable with some effort.

From there, we considered heading to the secret stash or Kimshew, but logistics were uncertain and I needed to be back in Sac the next night to make my flight home. We discussed all kinds of options, but ended up deciding on Upper Middle Cosumnes, only one problem; heavy use had shut down what had become the normal put in. So, rather than divert, we did some work on google maps and figured out a river right put in, although with only one shuttle vehicle, this was certainly a stretch. Fortunately, Christian agreed to run the 10 mile shuttle and the river right road was open far enough for us to get to an easy 4 minute walk to the river.

From the put in, we ran about a mile of progressively larger drops before arriving at a nasty sieved out slide just above the river left put in. After portaging, we ran some really sweet drops and portaged quite a bit of mank as well as the old Tony Hawk’s. It’s a shame that thing is gone, but skate park is still one of the best rapids around, burly and frothy but relatively low consequence. I’ll let the photo’s do the talking on this one.

Dustin Showing How it's Done at UMC on The Wall, Skate Park, and Brace for your Face.
Photos TJ.

Once we arrived at the take out, we decided that since Christian was running, the rest of us might as well get some exercise and hike boats up the hill so that he didn’t have to drive all the way around and come in from river left, as the river right take out road is super burly. It was about 3 miles, although the grade wasn’t too bad. We got a ride for the last half mile, although the whiplash from riding in the pick up probably wasn’t worth the walking we avoided. Eventually everyone finished up the hike, and Christian rolled back in with Tom’s truck calling the end to another great week in California.

Video to come... Someday.

Jim

Reflections from Cali May 2009

Ed Gaker Dropping a Waterfall on Dinkey Day 1. Photo TJ

Thinking back on this trip swirls my brain through the oddest concoction of emotions of any trip I have ever been on. At first it was great memories for about a week. Then it was all shattered by news from Colorado that changed the flavor of the memories. To tell you the truth, after that initial onslaught, I haven't thought much about it. But now, as I sit on a plane heading back to the Sierra for another round of epic boating, I can't continue to ignore it.

The trip started perfectly. My brother Tom picked me up from the airport in Sac and, after a night in a friends house in Davis, we headed North to meet up with Ed for a three day trip down the Middle Feather from Nelson Point to Lake Oroville, deciding that the water would drop enough from the 1400 cfs we had to allow safe passage through Bald Rock. I had met Ed a few years back on Red Creek up in West Virginia, and had seen him randomly just a few weeks before on the Blackwater where plans to meet up in Cali were hatched. After a long morning and midday of gathering supplies and figuring out shuttle in Oroville, we left Ed's truck near where we thought the illegal hike out point was and made it up to the put in around 3.

It had been too long since I had been on an overnighter, and the Middle Feather is one of the finest out there. Great class IV-V for the first two days down to Milsap Bar were a fantastic warmup for a much spicier trip through Bald Rock. At Milsap, we met up with Kieth, who informed us that the flows had dropped to a still high, yet good, 1200 cfs, so we were on for the finale of the trip. Despite the high flow, we made good progress through fantastic granite boating and scenery to Atom Bomb Falls. Fortunately my internet scouting gave me a good idea of how to do the portage, but the ferry still was a whole lot boilier than any pictures I had seen. We all made it, and sighed a momentary breath of relief, knowing that things were just about to get kicking.

Ed Boofing into the Sunshine on the Portage on Devil's Canyon. Photo TJ

The pace picked up as we continued through granite boulder garden wonderland. Big waves, holes, and seems made for great big water creeking. At the first rapid we couldn't boat scout, we all hopped out for a quick look on the left. After a tricky lead in, a huge curler took the majority of the water to river right and through some exploding holes that we could only kind of see from river left. Tom decided to head across to river right for a better look, while Ed and I were fired up on the rapid. Ed ended up missing the curler and dropping through a nasty slot while I caught the curler as planned, typewritering me into the maw of big holes before being spit into an eddy on river right. Seeing our mixed success, Kieth snuck right early which shot him into the guts with no momentum towards the eddy. He rode it on through, but missed the eddy and dropped right into the meet of a nasty hole in the next rapid. After about a minute of rodeo, Kieth swam and Ed gave chase. I was torn, but decided to wait for Tom who was already in his boat and about to drop into the first rapid.

Tom Janney Blending Into Curtain Falls. Damn White Boat. Photo Keith Kugley

The second Tom made it through, I turned and gave chase to Keith and Ed. Finding Keith shortly downstream, he appeared severely beaten, but gave the okay sign, so I continued after the boat. Fortunately it had eddied out shortly above Curtain Falls. With some rope work we were able to get Keith across the river and down to his boat. He relayed the story of being recirced until he thought the lights were going out in the hole as he caught his breath. It was certainly a close call, and Keith played it safe the rest of day portaging judiciously were possible the rest of the way down.

Ed in the Lull in Three Doors, Huge Holes above and Below. Photo TJ.

We finally made it down to the lake with lots more fantastic boulder gardens. After 3 miles of lake paddling we made it to what we thought was our hike out point, and headed up the hill. We never found a trail (Is there one?), and finally made it up through the poison oak to an old road after about an hour of grunting up the loose dirt in the high 90's heat. After walking on the road for a while, we came to what is the sketchiest compound I have ever passed in my many days of trespassing. A series of connected trailers and airplane hangers comprised the beast, which we scurried by as quickly as possible to avoid detection. Fortunately we made it undetected, as I was sure we would be shot if discovered. Soon, enough we were at the gate and a quick jaunt to Ed's truck, which had obviously been scoped, but thankfully not broken into.

We loaded up and ran shuttle as quickly as possible, which wasn't quick enough. Kieth needed a break from boating, maybe we all did, but I was taking some of my priced vacation time, so a plan was hatched to push South. It was real late by the time we got the truck at the top, and despite wanting to get South for the next adventure, we didn't make it far at all and poached a night's sleep somewhere south of Quincy. Waking the next day, we drove by Love's Falls but couldn't rally the motivation and instead pushed on to a relaxing afternoon run down 49 to Bridgeport on the South Yuba, just what the doctor ordered.

From there, it was decision time. Messages on my cell told of a royal gorge trip starting the next
morning, but we never got phone connection with Dusty and Ryan to set up a plan, so we rallied with Ed South to the South Fork of the Merced. After sleeping in a pull out near the take out we met up with Nick and Oliver and found a raft guide to run our shuttle. The end of the shuttle was pretty entertaining as we were mostly on forest roads before popping out on the golf course in Wawona and finally finding the South Fork of the Merced.

The run was fantastic. It goes well as a two day run for those who don't know it and features lots of good rapids and very little bull shit. There's a great mix of boulder gardens and bed rock in there, and though there are gorges, you never feel locked in. There are no mandatory portages although most will portage a few times. No hike in or hike out and a relatively short shuttle make this run possibly the highest quality overnighter in Cali compared to the logistics. All in all just clean fun.

Ed Blasting out of a Hole on the South Merced. Photo TJ

After getting off, we made some frantic phone calls to try to decide what to do with our last two days in Cali. When we found out Dinkey was around 300, there was only one way to finish the trip... waterfalls. Having just Tom, Ed, and I having no previous waterfalls experience we took care of provisions and made it to the take out at Balch Camp that night, planning to get an early start the next morning.

Finishing the Triple Drop Switch, Resulting in a Good Ride. Photo TJ.

Our early start proved to be a bust as we wasted in trying to figure out a way through river left before retreating to the long way to Ross Crossing on river right. We ended up starting the hike at noon and making it to the river at one. After a short break, we started making slow progress down the 1.5 miles to the normal camping slab. Although the mileage is short, there are a ton of big, sometimes consequential drops during day 1 as well as one time consuming portage. Sitting at camp just chilling next to the good morning slide and looking up at the clean bedrock above is quite the experience.

Better Than Folgers... Photo TJ.

The Perfect 20fter. Photo TJ.

The next day is much longer although perhaps a little less locked in. More great clean drops, some of which are massive, like Nikki's Slide. This has to be up there as one of the best days of kayaking anywhere. Then, once you're tired and beat from running all kinds of sweet bedrock drops, the mank shows up and you run a mile of garbage to the take out, although paddling under the tube is certainly interesting.

Nikki's Slide is Big, Really Big. Photo TJ.

And like that, a week of great Cali kayaking is over. We return to Ross Crossing to grab the vehicle and make a bee line for Sac so I can make my flight back to the real world. After a couple hours in the car, I realize how truly broken my body is. There is no way I could have kayaked another day... what a satisfying feeling at the end of a trip.

The next week was a blur of getting caught up at work, repairs at my new house, and nursing my body back to life. And then it happened. I got a text from Tony, “Did you say the Ed you were boating with in Cali was headed towards Colorado? You need to read BT.” From that, I already knew something was wrong. It was just one of those bad feelings, shortly confirmed through my computer screen. One second he was there and the next he was gone.

I don't care to speculate on the what and the why. All I can hope is that Ed made an informed and commited decision on Sherman Falls. I'm not sure all the safety in the world could have helped given the situation. Sometimes that's just the way it is. You. The river. Everything else is extraneous to the outcome.

Regardless, Ed is and will be missed and remembered.

I talked to Keith shortly thereafter. I think he had heard at that point. He relayed me a story from Bald Rock that I missed. After completing the sketchy Atom Bomb ferry, Ed and Keith had started discussing why we, as class V boaters, put our selves in dangerous situations on a regular basis. The thing that struck Keith is he couldn't come up with a reason. This conversation, coupled with the swim later that day and the news of Ed's passing the following week, has kept Keith off the water since then.

Me, I'm not sure I can answer that question either. There are a lot of cliché answers, but I don't think any of them explains it. I know I feel completely focused and connected when I'm deep in a gorge. I'm not sure what it is. Thing is, the focus is strongest when the strokes are most crucial. Those times when no matter what your buddies do, they can't help. It's not that I like boating things that scare me. And it's not something I seek out every time I go paddling. But sometimes you just feel it. It all makes sense. And then you're in it. Just you. And the river.