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

The Spring That Never Ended

This year has been by far the best year for water in the Southeast since I arrived 5 years ago.  As we now approach August, there have been natural flow options from back in mid January nearly every day through to now.  In addition to generally high background levels, there have been quite a few days of so much water that you are searching for things that are low enough to run.  This led to some great days and some days of endless driving with very little kayaking.  Below are a handful of snaps and stories from along the way...

C. Paq heading into Asleep at a the Wheel.  And yes, he caught the eddy in the cave directly in front of him.

C. Paq soaring into the best boulder rapid on Allen Creek.

The whole drive down, we had been planning on hitting the Bear.  The level was a good high (24" if I recall correctly) and despite knowing that the best creek in the SE was running at an optimum flow, we chose to go exploring.  While close by, Allen Creek took forever to get to.  While not quite as quality as the Bear, Allen was a great trip and it was well worth missing out on the best to go check out another cool canyon.  Lots of good slides up to lead to low volume boulder drops and then high volume boulder gardens once the two tribs arrive.  Incidentally, there were 2 other groups at Allen that day, which probably marks the most people ever on the creek.

Ohman on the best rapid above the Chimney Tops trailhead.

Ohman on the great boogie between Decision and Dinosaur.

The West Prong of the Little Pigeon is the classic Knoxville class V run.  It has more action packed into 7 miles than pretty much anything else on the East Coast.  Nothing huge, just non-stop goodness with no portaging baring wood.  On this day, I was thinking we'd be taking a chill day at the Little so I brought the beater boat.  Mr. West Prong Howard Tidwell called us on the way up to let us know it was running.  Needless to say we went and my beater boat was a sinking ship before too long.  Good thing it was relatively warm and I was dumb enough to keep going.

My parents in a cool little cove off the Clear Fork.

My parents usually come to Knoxville every spring to do a little paddling and hiking.  This year was no exception, but high water made it difficult to find an appropriate destination.  We decided on doing White Oak Creek into the Clear Fork, which is some of the best class II around.  It was high (like 3000 on Clear Fork) and was really zooming although not too difficult.  We had a great time soaking in the plateau canyon before sneaking in a little hike at Honey Creek.  Great Day.

C. Paq on the slide below the big one on Mill Creek in the Cohuttas.

It started off as an early day with good prospects.  We were putting onto our first creek in a deluge at 9 am.  The creek had risen an order of magnitude by the time we reached the first rapid.  While we were scouting it came up another foot and almost swept the boats away.  We hiked out and it was a sign of things to come.  Everything else on the plateau we checked was too high too, so we went down to the Cohuttas.  Mill Creek was running perfect and was a great break from what was otherwise a long day of driving.  We were still hungry so we went to Big Creek and Go Forth Creek, both too high. Then we went to Yellow Creek.  Perfect level but the wood we discovered in the falls had us hiking straight back up to the truck.  Oh well, sometimes it's just the way it goes.  At least we got to paddle something.

The Elusive Upper Snowbird Creek with good water.

Middle Falls on Upper Snowbird Creek.  John dropping, C. Paq gawking.

The day started off early, just like the previous weekend's day of driving.  Weary of the high water skunk, we headed to the Cheoah Headwaters area where things rarely get too high and come down fast.  We checked Upper Santeetlah first and it was high, if not too high.  Since it was still raining we decided to try to do Snowbird from the top.  After setting shuttle and getting changed it was 11:00 when we started hiking from Hooper Bald.  We got lost and did a short loop ending up back where we started.  We started down again at Noon, finding the put in after a few miles walk in the rain.  The flow was optimal and the whitewater was better than expected, and the run was a great adventure.  We finished with plenty of light left so C. Paq and I headed over to Santeetlah for a quick run.  The gate was closed so more hiking ensued.  The level was perfect and the creek was just great.  We finished at dark and did a little bashing through rhodo to find the road.  It was almost 9 pm when I started jogging shuttle.  It was a great full day of kayaking.

Well, that's it for photos and quick stories from another great Spring of paddling.

Drinking from the Fire Hose in California

Last year, I had been set on going to California for at least a week of kayaking.  Unfortunately, a weak snow pack and scheduling issues killed my plans and I missed out on a great Middle Kings trip.  This year despite the low snow pack, I was going to make it happen.  So despite the hearsay of no California season, I convinced my favorite boating partner and brother Tom that we were going.  In late April we decided that the snow pack looked nearly identical to the previous year, so I booked a plane ticket and Tom got off work for the second week in June.  All there was left to do was hope for the best.

As the trip approached, our group began to round out and then bloat as I recruited Knoxville up and comer Ben Warf and Tom recruited every class V kayaker in Colorado.  The week before the trip was a mess of logistics and arguing about water levels, as the things we had are eyes on (Middle Kings and Upper Cherry) were still too high and a heat wave followed by a cold snap were expected for our chosen week.  For better or for worse the Colorado contingent steered the group to heading straight for the Middle Kings upon arrival.

As usual, my flights out of the Southeast were delayed and I didn't arrive in Sacramento until midnight.  Ben picked me up, and the drive began, destination South Lakes trail head.  By the time we rolled into Bishop the dawn was just starting to wake and was in full affect by the time we reached the trail head.  The Colorado boys (minus a couple stragglers - JJ, Oliver, and Rolf) were all asleep so we grabbed a few hours of less than satisfying rest.  As the sun hit they decided they were taking off, but the stragglers and shuttle drivers still hadn't showed so we rested a little longer.  The shuttle drivers rolled in but the stragglers still hadn't.  At 10:30 we decided we better go if we wanted to make it to Leconte Canyon that day.  It turns out the stragglers showed up just after we left and the shuttle logistics all got sorted.

Things were going well on the hike early despite it being extremely hot.  Then, shortly after paddling across Long Lake I felt a twinge in my quad.  It had been years since I had cramped up but I knew it was coming.  I tried to drink as much water as I could to rehydrate, but by the time I was at the base of the switchbacks up Bishop Pass, I was laying on my back with legs spasming.  There was nothing else to do but fight through it.  JJ and the stragglers caught us at the top of the pass, and he threw some Cliff Bloks my way.  We stopped at the top of the pass to eat lunch and enjoy the epic views.  I was struggling bad and forced some food and a lot of water down despite having no appetite.  Apparently trying to hike a kayak over a 12000' pass with no sleep or altitude acclimatization is a bad idea.

Ben Warf Cruising Across Long Lake with Bishop Pass Waiting

Sean Over Bishop Pass and Heading Down into Dusy Basin

Ben and I were the last to leave the pass.  As we proceeded, he was struggling and I was starting to recover.  About 30 minutes down the pass I was feeling back to my normal self (thank for the Bloks JJ).  Soon, Ben started to get his second wind too and we were cruising across the magnificent Dusy Basin.  Soon, however, we caught up to Tom and Sean who had left over 2 hours in front of us and were not feeling great.  As we kept moving across the basin to the brink, the struggle just got worse for the boys.

Ben Taking in Leconte Canyon From the Brink

We took a nice long break to enjoy the huge rock walls igniting in the evening light before it was go time.  I was still enjoying my second wind, but the 2 Colorado boys were not, and I stayed back with them, along with Ben.  We were about half way down the brink with darkness approaching and stumbled into a nice campsite.  Sean and Tom were stumbling pretty badly at this point so I convinced them not to continue into the darkness.  Ben had blown through and finished the hike down to Leconte Canyon and the rest of the group.  I forced myself to eat a huge steak I had carried in but Sean and Tom could barely stomach anything.  Then we passed out.

The next morning we finished off the rest of the switchbacks down to the river.  The morning wasn't too bad, but overall it was the hardest hike in I had ever done.  It was beautiful, but I was glad to have it done with.

Half of the boys were already geared up when we made it to the river.  They decided they were gonna do the run in 4 days of paddling and the rest of us decided we were on the 5 day plan.  That was the last we saw of Brad, Jason, Oliver, Rolf, and Tyson.  So that was that, our group was down to Ben, JJ, Joel, Sean, Tom, and I.

After lazing around for a bit more we geared up and hit the river.  I was prepared for quite a bit of mank the first day, but after a short while we were through it and the quality really picked up.  Somewhere early on Joel sublexed his shoulder and made what must be one of the toughest decisions ever, he shouldered his boat right back to the trail head, where no shuttle vehicles were waiting since they had all been taken to the take out.  I still haven't asked him how the hike was or how he got home, but I know he made it.

The Author Taking in Leconte Canyon from the River (Photo TJ)

Ben Dropping into an Early One (Photo TJ)

Down to 5, we continued on as the quality increased.  We walked a couple but ran a whole lot of great whitewater in the most magnificent surroundings in the Sierra.  Money drop was the highlight of the day, and the high water made it downright rowdy.  JJ went first and was lucky to end up in one piece, barrel rolling off the right hand side.  I decided to run the meat of the lead in, getting a little lost and going deeper than anticipated.  Fortunately it came together out of the right eddy and I was able to send a huge boof and not get my deck wet on the final off vert plunge.  The stoke was high and the boys followed quickly pretty solid lines, although we had to patch Sean's lip up after he caught it with his paddle.  The rest of the day was a barrage of beautiful high water slides with huge holes.  We decided to camp high on left just above a little waterfall before the ledge gardens.

Sean Plunging into the Money

That night we all rested hard, waking ready for battle with some of the toughest on the Kings.  Unfortunately the water hadn't dropped, but there was nothing to do press on.  After the 12 footer at camp and a few hundred yards of fast class IV we were at the lead in to the ledge garden.  After a quick scout, Tom and I proceeded while the others started their portage.  We took a good look at the ledge garden and the following Werner Paddles drop.  Both looked huge and good, but the holes and consequences were just saying no, so the portaging amongst house side boulders began.  We put back in for the lead in to the huge slide.  What is normally class III was a class V scramble for an eddy, and the slide didn't look any better.  The diagonals that normally take a boater safely to the left were blowing through and the next two holes downstream had terminal tendencies.  We walked again, moral falling fast.

Once the boulder gardens picked up, Ben and Sean hit the trail.  JJ, Tom and I boated down to the top of the waterfall gorge.  It was one of the most beautiful, tempting, and terrifying pieces of whitewater I'd ever seen.  Every drop had at least one pocket that could swim you and they were all flushing straight into the next.  The kicker was the waterfall had become completely crucial anything but the purest of lines would lead to a first d of the awful boxed in drop just downstream.  It started raining and we started walking.

We kept going, eating lunch above Raw Dawg Falls in a grove of huge trees.  Huge bear scat was everywhere.  I almost stepped on a Rattlesnake.  We were defeated.

After a good scout of the Vallecito-esque Gorge (I know you Californians love it when your whitewater gets compared to Colorado), we decided to leave our boats and camp at the bottom, hopeful for the stoke of lower water and empty boats in the morning.

Our great camp was so nice that a bear even decided to wander in and check us out in the morning.  Fortunately, it had also served to rejuvenate us from the despair of the previous day.  The sun was shining and the stoke had returned to high.  After some high quality warm up, we committed to the gorge.  One quick portage around a sieve and some great boofs and we were at the exit with spirits soaring.  It's amazing how it can turn around in an instant.

We ate lunch in Simpson Meadow, basking in the sunshine, before making our way down to Tehipite.  The boulder gardens were great with the extra water.  The Big Bad Beaver looked much better than I had imagined, but it was still easy to walk on by.  After what ended up being a pretty long day, we arrived a Tehipite, settling in early in preparation for big next day in the bottom nine.

Our predicted early start didn't pan out.  Tom was feeling nauseous so we took our time getting ready.  Despite still feeling like he was going to vomit, he finally decided it was time to put on a little after 10.  It gradually built as we left Tehipite.  At some point it was on and it didn't let up.  We ran a lot of great whitewater and walked quite a bit too.  We all had good lines and bad lines as we battled downstream.  As long as the focus remains, it's one of the best days of paddling anywhere.  After about 7 miles our collective concentration and energy was waning, so we camped at a nice spot on the right just below a big slide into a hole backed up by a huge undercut on the left, relaxing and fishing as a scrawny bear came down to visit.

Tom in a Nice Bottom 9 Rapid

The Crew Chilling above an Unusually Flat Section

The next morning, it was immediately back into the action.  I ran a slot backwards in the second drop of the day, breaking my back band and requiring a 20 minute repair break.  We had a swim shortly thereafter but we cleaned it up well considering the possibilities thanks to a little luck.  After a much longer morning than expected, we reached the confluence.  The bottom 9 is a fantastic stretch of whitewater, as long as you stay present in the moment.

After a quick lunch above the start of the Garlic Falls rapids, we were set to finish this one off.  Most of the crew was beat down and portaged and picked their way down, but for those who still have the fire, this section is most excellent.  The big launch into the fluff at Cassidy Falls is one of the best moves of the whole trip, and the rest isn't bad either.  After Garlic Falls and Rough Creek Falls the rapids start to taper off, and the mad dash through the paddle out was on.  Going from the spires of Bishop Pass to the dust at the end of the road in the Valley leaves one with a serious sense of accomplishment.

While a trip down the Middle Fork of the Kings often marks the end of a California season, we had thoughts of adding a Cherry on top.  After a few phone calls on the way back into Fresno, we had confirmation that Upper Cherry would be somewhere between medium and low and certainly not too low.  Sean and JJ had other obligations, but Ben, Tom, and I had 3 more days to make it happen.  While a rest day would have been nice, water levels and plane tickets dictated that we would be hiking in the following day.  So, after a big meal and a night in the sketchiest Motel 6 around, we were headed off to Groveland.

A slow start and a long packing session had us heading up the Kibbie Ridge Trail just before 1.  Somehow we had convinced ourselves that after the Kings hike, the Cherry hike in would be easy.  It's easier, but 10.5 miles with a kayak on your back is brutal anyway you slice it.  Again, Ben charged ahead while I stayed back with Tom.  He hadn't been feeling well the whole trip and this hike was no exception.  Still he sucked it up and made it happen.  We rolled into lord meadow just after dark, crashing directly into our sleeping bags.

We awoke to several crews of paddlers getting ready for the day.  We ended up teaming up with Evan and Wes before heading down for the put in slide and into Disneyland.  It quickly became apparent that the water was lower than Tom and my first time down, but it was still enough to have some fun.  With the low flows, we made good time down the moonscape to the entrance gorge to Cherry Bomb.  We had a little pow wow and convinced the first timers that it was low enough that we should press into Cherry Bomb without a scouting hike.

TJ with a beautiful line at the Put In Slide

The Author Applying a Little More than the Desired Boof (Photo: TJ)

The lead in gorge was relatively uneventful, although one of the drops get sketchy at low water, and we quickly found ourselves at the portage down to Cherry Bomb Falls.  As we approached the falls it became evident it wasn't going tot be a quick trip through the gorge, as a huge group had just started their runs.  Not wanting to disturb their flow, we spectated while they slowly dropped in.  I won't go into too much detail, but they nearly had a huge debacle right in front of us.  Most of them had good lines but one got potholed and swam.  His boat got beat in the weir hole until someone was able to get a rope on it.  Then when they were pulling it free they lost control of it and it floated downstream.  In the process, another boat got kicked in the water and things were getting exciting.  Fortunately, things stabilized there and the water was low enough that recovery from that point was relatively uneventful.

A Nice Line From the Group In Front

The Clean Up from the Mess in Process

Having enough of the spectating, we dropped in with 5 solid lines.  After a quick regroup to make sure everyone knew the lines, we routed the rest of the gorge as the first group finished cleaning up their mess.  Coming out of the confines, we bid Evan and Wes good day before routing down the Jedi Slide and Teacups.  Too much fun, so we hiked back up for another quick lap before continuing down to Double Pothole where we enjoyed a great camp under the stars.

Wes About to Take Flight in the Cherry Bomb Gorge

The Scary but Oh So Smooth Cali Groove Tube (Photo: TJ)

TJ Droppin' Perfect 20 while Ben Watches from the Cave

The Author Leading the Charge Off Double Pothole (Photo: Ben Warf)

Double Pothole Under the Stars

Needing to get moving to catch my flight, we were at it early and into the Waterfall Alley.  Even with low flows it's perfect.  Feeling the stoke, I decided to give Kiwi a good look and liked what I saw.  The cave looked quite a bit less threatening at low water, but fortunately I didn't have to find out as the perfect reconnect on the right sent me sailing downstream.  The seal launch at Dead Bear didn't look appealing so I portaged over the sieves and down to the bottom.  From there on out, the run was fun but quite abusive in spots as the low water didn't fill the boulders quite so well.  As we approached the lake, Upper Cherry made its final stand in the Nozzle Gorge.  Just like the the last time, the Nozzle stomped me, although at least this time I was upright and forward before getting back endered into a nice little pocket beat down.  A few more drops and we walked around the log jam to the lake for our flat water workout, followed by our final bit of California kayak carrying in the blazing sun.  Fortunately, there was a nice German kayaker who took pity on us and drove our shuttle and gave us a beer when we really needed one.  Thanks!

The Author Starting Day 2 in the Waterfall Alley (Photo: TJ)

Coming in Hot to Kiwi in a Pocket (Photo: TJ)

And Exiting Just as Planned (Photo: TJ)

And then all that was left was a quick drive to the Sacramento Airport, where a red eye flight to get me home in time for work Monday morning awaited.  And that was it, as much California adventure kayaking as I'd ever want to try to squeeze into 1 week.

Southeastern Overnighters

While the Southeastern US may not be known for overnight kayak opportunities, there are certainly quite a few that are great as practice for their big brothers in the Western US and are absolutely worthy of exploring in there own right.  Over the past year I've been fortunate enough to dabble heavily in the available options.  Starting last September, I've been able to overnight the Gauley River, Raven Fork, Clear Creek, Obed River, Daddy's Creek, and Chattooga River.

As everyone knows, the Gauley is classic.  I'm fortunate enough that my Dad has been rowing a raft down the river at least once a year since before I was born.  I'm also fortunate enough that he agrees to put up with me and my kayaker friends as tag alongs in exchange for helping with rigging and breaking down rafts.  This results in a night in the lap of luxury on the side of a beautiful river with better food and drink than I ever get at home.  While the 26 miles from the damn to Swiss can easily be paddled in a single day, there's still plenty to be offered for a two day trip.  Despite the less than ideal camping (rafting companies own most of the nicer camping spots) and less than full on wilderness (logging roads in the canyon are frequented by locals on ATVs), the Gauley as an overnight offers a great opportunity to experience the river in a new way.

I won't say too much about the Raven Fork overnight trip here other than it's the best class V overnighter in the Southeast.  This is also the most true overnighter.  It could be done in a day but it would be a long day and the water levels work out better if it drops for the second day.  The logistics are a little difficult as you need high water, good weather, and an open straight fork road.  The upper section is rarely paddled and is some of the best class IV wilderness paddling around.  The campground at Enloe Creek is one of my favorite official campgrounds anywhere.  The lower section is the best class V creek on the east coast.  It's all tucked in one of the most remote areas of the southeast.  It's as good as it gets.

Ben Warf killing it on Caveman on a non-overnight trip through the lower Raven Fork Gorge.

The upper section of Clear Creek between Clark Range and Barnett Bridge is somewhere between a float trip and a whitewater run, but the scenery and over all experience make up for the lack of exciting rapids.  Great camping in rock houses and a cool hike to a nice 50 ft. waterfall round out the experience.  For class II-III paddlers wanting an overnight wilderness paddling experience, this is where it's at.  I don't think I'd do this run every year, but the overall experience is good enough that I'll go back again.

Kirk Eddlemon enjoying the serenity of Upper Clear Creek.

Sometimes the scenery is big too.

The comforts of rock house camping.

Priorities...

Four Mile Creek Falls is just a nice little bushwhack away.

One of a few spots where the family canoe is not the vessel of choice.  Still, it works.

The Obed River from Potter's Ford to Nemo might be the longest stretch of bridgeless whitewater in the Southeast.  While there are a few rough access points in between (hiking or 4 wheelers), a full twenty miles of canyon, protected by Catoosa WMA and the Obed WSR, await you between the two bridges.  While the whitewater in the upper is not classic, it's enough to keep you entertained between the cliffs.  The second day, below the Daddy's creek confluence, passes through the main Obed canyon and its classic class III rapids.  This is the best overnight trip in the Obed system, and probably all of Tennessee.

Mark Newton drives into the awkward pinch at Billy Goat Bluff.

This photo tries to make it intense.

Glamor shots at camp.  Look at that body...

Classic whitewater in the main Obed Canyon.

Daddy's Creek from Antioch Bridge to Devil's Breakfast Table is a classic Tennessee class III+ run; however, add in the extra 12 miles through the Obed Canyon and you've got a great 18 mile day or short overnight trip.  This year we chose to do it as a quick overnighter, putting on at 6 pm and taking off by 8:30 am the next morning so we didn't miss any work.  The whitewater is fantastic in both the Daddy's Creek and Obed Canyons, as is the great plateau scenery.  While not really a true overnighter (the run can be done in 3-4 hours with good water), the camping is great under the main Obed wall and there's no reason to rush through this place. 
 

Daddy's Creek Canyon is classic.  Even when it's low.

Camping in the Obed Canyon does not suck.

The Chattooga River from Earl's Ford to Lake Tugaloo was the first overnighter I did after moving to the Southeast.  Alongside great scenery and camping, this river just has soul.  Section III is a nice adjustment to loaded boats and the Narrows is magical.  Section IV has great camping (right below seven foot if you've got a small group) and a great finish with five falls.  This river also runs when little else is going in the summer time, which means great weather.  All in all, it's a classic.

Full moon camping on the Chattooga is where it's at.

That's it folks.  Just a few ideas on where to go to find some overnight whitewater enjoyment.




Jim

If No One Takes a Picture, Did it ever Really Happen?

Sometimes you just need a break from reality.  Usually this break consists of just a momentary flicker of a daydream before the real world shakes you back.  On rare occasions the fantasy goes on further, with vivid details coming together until the line between fantasy and reality blurs.

I woke at 5 am after a night of heavy rain.  There were plenty of early morning options, but with no takers for true dawn patrol and the potential for high water skunking, I loaded up the boat and headed to work, planning on an early afternoon departure for the certainty of partners and water.  After a morning of productivity (it's amazing what an empty office can do), I glanced at some gauges during a brief break.

One thing stuck out, the Oconoluftee River at Birdtown was over 3000 cfs, it was early October, and the forecast was calling for clear skies and warm weather for the next 2 days.  A rare combination which indicated the Raven Fork had lots of water in it, the road up the straight fork would be open, and an overnight kayak trip could be attempted in relative comfort.  I had been waiting for this combination for years, but there was only one catch, I was supposed to work the rest of the day and the next day.  Maybe the opportunity, a two day decent of the Raven Fork starting from 3 forks, would just have to wait.

Fortunately, I have a weak will to resist opportunities like this and I started looking around for partners despite my scheduling problem.  No takers from the usual suspects.  But the seed had been planted and I was having a hard time coming up with excuses for not just going by myself, convincing myself that a few key portages would reduce the risk to an acceptable level.  A few minutes later I had a day pass for the afternoon and the next morning and I was en route.

However, I still had plenty to take care of.  10 minutes at home and I had overnight gear and a bike for shuttle.  10 minutes at the store and I had food for myself and beer for a gift to Mr. Watty.  10 minutes at Sugarlands visitor center and I had a camping permit for the Enloe Creek campground.  Then all that was left to do was endure some traffic on the beautiful drive up to Newfound Gap and back down to Cherokee.

Arriving at the gauge in Big Cove I found a healthy and somewhat brown 20” awaiting me.  More would be better, but 20” seemed like enough, so off I went to Mr. Watty's house to drop my bike.  After explaining to Manuel what I had planned, I dropped my bike in his carport.  He seemed somewhat concerned with my solo plans but wished me well as I headed back down to the confluence and up the Straight Fork to Round Bottom.

It was a little after 1 as I pulled into the trailhead and quickly packed my gear into my boat.  The plan was to be superlight with no one else to share group gear, so the stove and plenty of other conveniences got left behind.  After a final check for essentials, I started heading up the hill.  It's not the steepest trail in the world, but I was trying to make good time so I would have plenty of time to figure out the bushwhack down to the Right Fork.  3 miles, 2500 vertical feet, and plenty of times thinking that I would top out just around the corner, I finally made it to the top of Hyatt Ridge.  The views up to the crest of the smokies were spectacular and the foliage at high elevation was peak.

After a quick jaunt along the ridge over to campsite 44, I found the small creek out of the back of the campsite that leads down to the Right Fork.  I assumed this bushwhack would be the worst part of the journey in, and while steep, it wasn't too bad thanks to the fishermen's trail which was actually in pretty good shape.  Soon enough, I broke through the rhodo and arrived at my put in on the right fork.  The banks were overgrown with rhodo everywhere, so I found a nice perch on a rock in the middle of the tiny creek.  I geared up quickly, and nearly fell in as my leg cramped while pulling my skirt up.  It was by far the most difficult hike in I'd done in the Southeast, and I was pretty wrecked from moving so quickly, but it was time to move and find out if it was worth the effort.

Within 10 seconds of pushing off, it became obvious that the right fork did not have enough water to actually paddle down.  Still, I banged on, with too much water to easily walk down the creek and no desire to put the boat back on my shoulder.  Despite the dragging, the Right Fork was a beautiful tour through a rhodo tunnel with old growths and fall colors blocking out most of the sky.  Finally, after a few portages and plenty of abuse to my already cracked boat, I popped out of the micro creek and into the bottomless pool at three forks, the birthplace of the Raven Fork.

After a brief stop to admire the forks joining under the back drop of huge old hemlocks, it was time to start the real paddling.  Although the cobbles for the first mile or so were a touch shallow, there was plenty of water and I was finally making good progress.  The scenic tour continued as great vistas blanketed in a sea of yellow fall foliage appeared around every corner and huge old growth trees draped over the creek in their fight for light. 

As the cobbles continued, I eddied after rounding a sharp right bend, confronted by a huge log jam on the left and increased gradient downstream.  I peeled out, noticing a log stuffed in the only slot to the right of log jam just feet before I got there.  A quick adjustment of angle and drive over the rock forming the right side of the slot saved what could have been an extremely nasty situation.  A little flustered from the surprise, I hopped out to scout the slides and calm my nerves.  Fortunately what I saw looked perfect for getting back in the groove, 3 slides with small moving pools separating great moves finishing with a nice boof over a juicy little pocket hole.

Thoroughly calmed, I slid back in, linking the slides and planing over the final hole, hoping the rest of the way down to Enloe Creek would keep the same quality.  I wasn't disappointed.  The bedrock had broken through and was here to stay for a while.  After getting into a rhythm of entertaining but not threatening slides and drops, the walls tightened up for the first time requiring a tight eddy to inspect what lay around the corner.  After some scrambling to get a reasonable view, I was excited by the prospect of what I saw.  3 drops to freedom: an awkward slide against the left wall followed by a small drop with a powerful hole in front of a sieved out drop with a nice boof on the left.  The tight walls magnified the boily pools separating the drops.  Manageable but certainly not a place for mistakes.  There was nothing left to do but commit.  I slid in, blasting through the slide and charging straight over the next hole.  I eddied quickly above the sieve drop to enjoy the upper Raven Fork's inner sanctum, admiring the power of pristine water pulsing chaotically under me and against the walls before peeling out and driving left off the final boof.  I could have stayed there longer, but I was running short on daylight and had an unknown distance to cover.

For the next mile, the bed rock slides and drops continued.  Again nothing on the scale of the rapids below Enloe creek, but great stuff with a few large enough to warrant a scout.  I was torn between hoping the Enloe Creek bridge would appear around the next corner and hoping that the rapids would just go on like this forever.  Gradually, the bedrock transitioned to boulders while the gradient held constant.  Shortly thereafter I caught glimpse of a log just over the horizon I was entering, requiring a quick scramble for an eddy on the right.  I was immediately on edge again, as the log had blended in perfectly from above and could have been a real problem if blundered into.

After the portage, I got out to scout a bigger boulder garden and caught a glimpse of the Enloe Creek Bridge.  I quickly ran the rapid before portaging the sieved out mess just above the bridge directly into camp.  I erected my sleeping set up before I gave a half-hearted attempt at starting a fire, but it just wasn't in the cards in the rain forest that is the Smokies immediately after 3 inches of rain.  I crossed the bridge and ate my dinner overlooking the downstream rapids as the light faded.  Sausage, cheese, and a few slices of bread is rarely so satisfying.  The day had been a total success.  And with darkness arriving and no fire, I drifted off immediately.

Despite a dry and warm night, I'd already woke several times before I open my eyes to see dawn creeping in.  I head back across the bridge to eat again, this time enjoying dried mangoes and trail mix for breakfast.  One thing is obvious from my perch, the water has dropped significantly.  Regardless, I'll be heading downstream soon.  I efficiently break camp and don my kayak gear.  A little colder and wetter than the previous afternoon, I slide back into the Raven Fork.

The river here is somewhat familiar as I've done this trip a few years back.  The first drop below the bridge has changed for the better and the cave is filled in.  A few quick boofs later and I'm through the first set below the bridge.  The river down to Lord of the Rings is magical in the dawn despite the flow.  More good slides, a big boof, and a portage around fluffy deliver me to the pool above Lord of the Rings and fully familiar territory. 

Despite the familiarity, everything is different.  I've never been here alone.

A quick scout for wood and I enter the Raven Fork gorges proper.  What is normally the best warm up rapid around is equally satisfying after the mile from camp.  It doesn't get much better than blasting through the alcoved middle drop straight into the runout.  I get out above Anoconda, shouldering my boat immediately.  I'd already been leaning towards portaging the tricky slithering beast, and my decision is cemented by the low water exposing the shelf in the landing of the first move.  I blast into the bottom of the rapid via a sliding ramp of rock before immediately scouting again.  Headless horseman is clean of wood but the low water is making the boof look touchy.  I decide to charge off it anyways, after all this is probably the most unique move on the river.  A fading boof off the right wall followed by a quick edge switch to get the left knee up results in a paddler planing over the left side of the nasty cauldron with a tight arc back towards the right and away from the undercut right side of the slide responsible for the horseman's decapitation.  Unfortunately, it doesn't go like that for me.  Low water coupled with excessive greed on the boof leads to a kick flip to inverted landing in the cauldron.  A quick roll and charge right deliver me to the right side of the slide and safely into the pool below.  I continue downstream, fully aware that I got away with one in an unforgiving arena on a day when the stakes are even higher than normal.

The adrenalin flowing from the botched line sharpens my focus before I quickly scout and clean up at Right Right and Razorback.  The gorge is perfect in the sea of fall foliage and the crisp lines have me back to enjoying the solitude as I cruise through the mellower stuff down to Hail Mary.  A quick portage through the nettles and I'm on my down through Jedi Training, Mortal Combat, and Wet Willy.  Despite my growing comfort with isolation, I have no delusions or time to mess with Big Boy and portage down to the top of Mike Tyson's Punch Out.

I take a moment to take a drink and a look at Mike's from the big rock that overlooks the first boof, reveling amongst the cascading water and falling leaves while examining the last nerve racking challenge of the day.  I scurry back into my boat, sliding into the out flow of the Elbow Crusher.  A quick stop in an eddy and a brief self-reassurance that every time I've ever run first here at Mike's I've been just alone as I am today, and I'm peeling out with that sole focus.  A small slide planes me into the big top boof, off the curler hanging on it and bringing the boat back under myself, land on the pillow while starting my charge right, enter just off the right wall, staying neutral and center, white out into the pillow, wait for the current throwing left, keep the momentum heading left through the hanging hole, catch the pop that sends you skipping across the pool.  The stoke carries me into the eddy above Harjes' Rapid, where a drive for the nub on the right leads to a nice pop up boof in front of the cave. 

I eddy out right to scout Caveman, hoping that the wood report I heard a week earlier had changed for the better.  It only takes a few steps to spot the log in the third drop, which would have been lights out to the paddler heading in blind.  Fortunately the right portage allows me to pass around the log but still take advantage of one of the best moves anywhere.  I pretty much sprint down the portage in anticipation of smearing out the left wall before sailing into the pool.  Moments later premonition becomes reality and I'm flying past the rapids name sake cave and down into the small slides above the Mangler.  The normally quick portage is made a little longer with no one to help with boat lowering and the decision to portage into the cave instead of the seal launch.

A few high quality runout rapids along and I'm cruising class II basking in the last bit of pristine solitude as the sense of accomplishing the goal starts to set in.  Soon enough, I arrive at Mr. Watty's house, surprised to see another boater car.  He comes out to welcome me back, glad to see that I'm still all in one piece.  Manuel informs me that it's still a touch before 10 am and that the other boaters, Jay and Joe, had showed up yesterday about an hour after me with the same plan for the Raven overnighter.  It was shocking to find out that while doing an overnighter I had never heard of being done before there were two guys only an hour back.  I tell him goodbye for the moment and ride the bike up the Straight Fork road to retrieve my car.

A quick stop back at Mr. Watty's and I've got all my gear packed up.  I thank him immensely for his hospitality and he goads me into a celebratory beverage before I hit the road for work.  About two hours later I settle into my desk and attempt to bring my focus back to work, still reveling in the daydream that has consumed the last 26 hours.  For all the short lived daydreams I've had in this office, it's great to finally bring one to fruition outside of it.

Bull Lake and My Camera's End

I've been wanting to write up our Bull Lake story since we went to Wyoming last July, but my motivation has waned and by now everyone else who was with me has written their version and published their photos, so I think I'm going to focus on writing another long over due story about my first solo overnighter (sometime soon hopefully...) and provide some links.  I think Chris summed it up best when he said, "Cali is def better, but for adventure nothing beats Wyoming."  This North Fork Bull Lake trip was definitely one of the best adventures I've been involved in even if the whitewater didn't pan out as hoped.  The thing is, sitting in the comfort of my home, I'm still drawn to return to the adventure and magnitude of Bull Lake Creek, although next time I think it'll be via the South Fork.

http://gradientandwater.blogspot.com/2012/08/first-descent-north-fork-of-bull-lake.html

http://whereintheworldisnickmurphy.blogspot.com/2012/08/wyoming-part-1-nf-bull-lake-expedition.html

http://www.offthefaceoftheearth.blogspot.com/2012/12/expedition-summer-report.html

JJ reveling in the view of Gannet Peak before dropping off the pass into the Milky Lakes - Photo Jordy Searle

I was also hoping to shoot some video on the trip, but discovered my old already severely abused Panasonic camcorder finally gave up the ghost upon reaching the put in and refused to record.  I was so pissed I'd carried the extra weight all those miles that I nearly threw it in the water before I calmed myself and remembered how untouched my locale was.  So, since the camera was dead, when I got home I finally editted up several years of video shot on the camera which I had been too lazy to do anything with.  The footage is a compilation from several Cali trips as well as a previous Wyoming trip and a couple of Black Canyon trips.  Music is "The Divide" by Grace Potter and the Nocturnals.

Enjoy,

Jim

10 Days

Until mid-January it had been a pretty bad season for me.  My availability was just not lining up with high water days, which there weren't many of, but I was making the best of it on local favorites like the Tellico, Little, and Obed.  Then, it got warm and rained a lot for about 4 days straight.  I've seen it rain harder here countless times, but never so steady for so long, and it was glorious...

Day 1 - Tellico - 68 degrees in mid January watching the UT kids with their raft was pretty good.
Day 2 - Obed - Low water and drizzle doesn't take away from one of the South's most soulful.
Day 3 - West Prong of the Little - Good when Tremont is too high, but scariest class III ever.
Day 4 - Duskin Creek - Pretty little creek but the Piney River at high water is way more bang for the buck.
Day 5 - Hike Up Porters - Somewhere between Upper Big and West Prong in gradient and difficulty but
            more continuous and full of wood than both, and not quite as high quality.  Still it's pretty damn good.
Day 6 - Crooked Fork - Waterfalls and slides in a quick, close to home package.  If only the water didn't
             smell so bad.
Day 7 - Upper Big - Can it get any better than superman down in an hour with a nice healthy 3.6ish flow?
Day 8 - Overflow Creek - Gotta love those mini gorges and the carnage this thing always attracts.
Day 9 - Chattooga Headwaters - The fully deal.  All the newly legal sections in a day.
Day 10 - Linville - Falls to the lake.  The classic long southeast day.

I'm pretty sure I've done 10 days in a row in my college days (it's a lot easier when not working 40+ hours a week), but it's been a long time between, and damn was it nice to get into that routine again.

Unfortunately, the steady rain and after work quicky schedule was not conducive to taking lots of photos; however there was one day where the camera came out quite a bit, so I'll elaborate a little bit...

I've been wanting to do Chattooga Headwaters pretty much since I moved to the Southeast, which is a much shorter time than AW has been working on access.  Given the history, I was pretty sure we'd never see legal access on this stretch and I had thought of poaching it many times... just putting on way up high in the NC gamelands near Cashiers and going all the way to the lake over 2 or 3 days.  Then last year when they announced legal access, I was sure there'd be an injunction before anyone could legally float the headwaters, and I was right.  I would sure history would repeat itself again this year, and was shocked when no additional injunctions came up this year.  So, when the opportunity arrived, I figured I'd better go jump on it while the getting was good.

Flows were looking great coming into the weekend with 900 and falling on the gauge Friday night (350 is minimum legal flow).  The boys wanted Overflow Saturday and since things were holding so well, we put off the headwaters until Sunday.  Staying in Clayton on Saturday night, things were looking good with 550 on the gauge when we got going.  We decided to do the whole thing from Green Creek to Licklog Creek, which was nearly 17 miles and was a pretty long day with a hike in and out.

The fisherman's trail at Green Creek is not real obvious from the Chattooga River Trail, but I had been there before so we did well finding it.  Section 00 is a pretty good adventure with several cool walled in sections.  Things start picking up as you get down to Bull Pen, which is a great rapid and the start of Section 0.

Section 0 continues with great class IV down to super corkscrew, which is the best rapid on the run.  Think Raven Fork rapids (including nasty spots) but not as steep.  Fortunately it'd be pretty easy to walk on the right if you get out above the lead in rapid if you're not into that kind of thing.  Things petered out pretty quickly from there to lots of class II down to the Burrell's Ford Bridge and for a while below.

Finally we got to Big Bend Falls, which is the big dog on Section 1.  The preferred line on the right was blocked with trees at the bottom, so I tried the left.  I got a little lost on the horizon and dropped over in a non-ideal location, destroying my bow (previously cracked) on the entrance ledge before recovering and finishing the main drop as intended.  After seeing the condition of my boat (gaping 6" crack), everyone else walked (not easy to do) on the right.  After a little more class II, the Rock Gorge got down to business.  This was probably the heaviest whitewater of the trip, and several rapids featured unnerving logs in a few locations, although we ran them all.  Fortunately, the pool drop nature let me and my boat off the hook and I was able to paddle it out (you'd be amazed how fast water comes out of a huge drain hole).  From there out it was about a mile down to Lick Log Creek, which is the end of the legal section.  There are no signs indicating the illegality of paddling down, but at least the creek is obvious as the first tributary river left below rock gorge, which also features a great cascading waterfall.  The hike out wasn't bad, but I'm pretty sure it's longer than signed at the parking lot to the river.  On a side note, it's a shame the 4 mile section from Lick Log to 28 has been made illegal, as it would allow a 2-3 day trip from Green Creek to the Lake, which would truly unlock the unique wilderness potential of the Chattooga.  Hopefully Someday.

Now to the photos, which are all from section 00 and 0, as we were trying to make miles on section 1...

Art Barket in one of the Longest Mini Gorges of Section 00 (Photo: JJ)

Art Exiting a Gorge with the Sieve Portage and a Nice Boof in the Background (Photo: JJ)

Bull Pen Rapid and John Moore, not on Manns for once (Photo: JJ)

Art Finishing off the Same in Fine Form (Photo: JJ)

John Moore Balancing the Chaos of Super Corkscrew (Photo: JJ)

Until next time...

Jim