The Water Cycle

Clear Creek Headwaters, Wilderness Falls Section: IV (V,P)

2010-10-31T23:00:00.000-07:00

Hiking in from the Smith River divide

Since I began kayaking, I've dreamed of this section of river. Clear Creek, a tributary to the Klamath River near Happy Camp, California, is one of the most pristine watersheds in the country. The entire drainage is protected by the Siskiyou Wilderness Area and is completely roadless with the exception of a dirt road to access the lower canyon. The lower section from Slippery View river access to the Klamath confluence is a great class III scenic float and one of the best beginner runs around. Above that, upper Clear Creek is a classic section of class IV/V whitewater that has become a favorite run of mine. But for the last five years, I have stood at that put-in bridge at Ten Mile Creek and gazed upstream, wondering what whitewater secrets the wilderness holds.

Looking upstream from the bridge at Ten Mile Creek

The light effects made the hike in much more pleasureable

So I went to work researching the Wilderness Falls section of Clear Creek. I talked to a paddler who had run it at extremely low water and countless kayakers who wrote it off due to access challenges. I studied topographic maps, geologic maps, historical hydrographs and discussed access with forest rangers in the Gasquet Ranger District to formulate a plan. In 2009, two separate attempts fell through at the last minute and in the abnormally wet October of 2010 I was ready to give it another shot. I stirred up curious enthusiasm from Brock Nelson and J.R. Weir. Both were flexible and fired up, so I tirelessly watched the changing weather forecasts and river gauges for over a week while the northern California coast was hit by rainstorms. Then, at 8 p.m. on October 28th, I made the final call: "we're launching tomorrow boys!" It was on.

Driving to the trailhead above the clouds

The trip started in Gasquet, California along the Smith River. We picked up our shuttle driver and drove about an hour to Doe Flat Trailhead where Clear Creek shares a divide with the Siskiyou Fork and South Fork of the Smith. From there, we began the six-mile hike on a well-maintained trail down into Clear Creek. The hike is as easy as it could be to carry a boat with overnight gear for six miles and took us about two and a half hours without backpack systems.

J.R. and Brock shouldering their 75-pound backpacks

The boat felt a lot heavier than it looks

We were all able to put the pain aside and enjoy the fantastic scenery. Fall colors were out, the sun was beaming through old growth coastal spruce forests, and we were surrounded by freshly snow-capped peaks of the Siskiyous. When we reached Doe Creek close to its confluence with Clear Creek, we were happy to see water and hastily put on with 50 cfs. It lasted about 100 yards before our first log portage. Then we had another. And another before I lost patience and portaged across the flat to Clear Creek proper.

Perhaps a touch too enthusiastic to see water. On the banks of Doe Creek.

Brock ferrying across a creek to avoid wet feet

J.R. enjoying the sunshine

The entire first mile of the run was rough. We had almost 150 cfs total and it was somewhat how I imagine the Manky Mile on Bridge Creek. We were all bouncing off rocks and good eddies were scarce while wood was abundant. We scouted several times and ran some chunky lines just to avoid putting our boats back on our shoulders. Each of us faced several minor broaches and pins.

Typical tight boulder garden with brush obstructing the full view

I was starting to worry we'd be in for 14 miles of this and could see why no one had come back raving about this run. But throughout the first mile, several large tributaries poured in and gave us more hope. Soon the portaging was over and we began to encounter many fun rapids.

Brock below a fun slide

There were extremely tight, technical boulder gardens, pushy bedrock slots, and even a couple of nice ledges in the 10-foot range. We boat-scouted nearly everything and took quick looks at bigger horizon lines to see more manageable rapids.

After paddling about four miles from the Doe Creek confluence, we came to the first real pool on the run. A significant tributary called Cedar Creek entered on the left and we knew we had reached the namesake of the run: Wilderness Falls.

Wilderness Falls viewed from our camp

I had heard numerous varying descriptions of Wilderness Falls that ranged from a 50-footer with a shallow landing to a 35-foot multi-tiered sliding affair. None were even remotely fitting. The total drop was around 20 feet and the falls consisted of a cross-current boof into a hideous crack that boiled, pillowed, and fell off a second drop into a big pool.

The bottom of Wilderness Falls

To the best of our knowledge Wilderness Falls had never been run and none of us decided to step up to the plate that day. It actually looked fairly clean with a fun entrance move, but I hate crack drops, couldn't predict what kind of beatdown might happen in there, and considering our location, didn't feel like playing probe.

The entrance move to the crack

At this point in the day, we had been slowed down by many setbacks and it was getting late. We portaged relatively easily along the right bank and found a perfect campsite overlooking the falls where we called it a night.

A nice cozy campsite on a clear morning

Day 2
We awoke to clear skies and were happy to see the water hadn't dropped out at all overnight. By this point all the tributaries had boosted our flow to a healthy 400 cfs. We knew the day ahead of us would be long with 10 miles of unknown creek left before we hit the more familiar upper run. The only beta we had on this run was a cryptic class III/IV rating from a trip at much lower water. It was evident that the previous exploration did us no good beyond the assurance that we wouldn't have any boxed in waterfalls. For the next 10 miles, we were in full exploratory mode. On the water by 9 am.

The next couple of miles held the best whitewater of the entire trip. The canyon would gorge out and open up regularly and we were once-again scouting some bigger horizon lines. We encountered several steeper but channelized boulder gardens and exciting bedrock drops including a unique 15-foot slide and a multi-tiered slide ending in a 10-foot plunge.

Brock getting ready for the 15-foot slide

Looking down the lip of a 10-footer

The creek was littered with countless smaller boofs, but often we found ourselves landing on shallow rocks. Some drops were still quite chunky and the gorges were separated by long stretches of class II. Because of our time crunch we were almost more excited to see easy water than we were to find big, clean drops.

A nice section of slides

But everything was navigable, bony as it may have been, and we didn't have a single portage all morning. After three hours of aggressive boat-scouting, we found ourselves looking downstream at the Ten Mile bridge. The unknown headwaters of Clear Creek was behind us.

One of many fun drops

By the time we reached the upper run, we were floating on around 600 cfs. This made the upper section a touch bony, but all the normal lines were the same and holes were never a concern. But we had put in a long day on the water and starting to get tired. My fatigue became especially apparent during the first portage, when I was struggling to carry my full-loaded kayak 100 feet after I'd carried it six miles the day before.

Fall colors on upper Clear Creek

It took all my focus to finish off the final class V rapid, Cottonmouth. But in the pool below the un-scoutable finale, we were both in our boats, thrilled to have finished off such an incredible section of river. We proceeded through the last five miles of class II water and I'd forgotten just how gorgeous the lower canyon is. Just after 3 p.m., we passed under the highway bridge where our shuttle driver was waiting, guarding cold beers and dry clothes.

History
I haven't been able to find much information on the kayaking history of Clear Creek, but here's what I do know. Brandon and Dustin Knapp completed the first descent from Doe Creek down sometime in the 90's. They did the run in the summer with an estimated 200 cfs at the take-out. Dustin has been a huge help with the success of this trip and graciously recounted every detail he could and confirmed my conclusions about access and flows. Otherwise, we know of one other descent completed at low water by one of J.R.'s coworkers at Otter Bar Lodge. I figure the best way to hear about other descents is for me to go around claiming that this was the third descent. So I will, and I eagerly await contradiction, because anyone who has successfully completed a mission like this one deserves due credit. I'll also claim that this was the highest water descent to date as the summer-time runs would be on about 1/3 the flow we had. If you know these claims to be untrue, please let me know. Finally, it is my understanding that Wilderness Falls has yet to be run.

Access and flows
This is where I could write my Ph.D. thesis. The road to the Doe Flat trailhead climbs to nearly 5000 feet and snow doesn't melt away until late June or July of most years. By that point, the creek is a trickle and the canyon is much more effectively explored on foot via the well-maintained trail along the entire length. The only way to catch Clear Creek with worthwhile water levels is to hike up from the trailhead on the Klamath side (about 14 trail miles) or do the run in the the fall as we did. Flows are difficult to predict as Clear Creek has no gauge. As a general rule, the watershed is more stable than nearby Indian Creek and holds its rainwater for longer.

But there is really no way of knowing how much water will be in the creek when you start the hike. We started hiking the day after a rainstorm brought Indian Creek up to around 600 cfs. The Indian Creek hydrograph steadily dropped off over the next two days while Clear Creek stayed at a fairly even flow. The week before, the area experienced an uncommon rainstorm that left all the soil saturated. These conditions provided us with around 150 cfs at the get-on and 600 cfs dumping into the Klamath. I would consider this the low recommended flow and an ideal level for our exploratory trip. Next time, I would want more water, a little more time, and err on the side of high water as you can always wait for levels to drop (provided you brought enough food.)

Right around the first snowstorm of the season, the Forest Service locks a gate four miles down the road from the trailhead for safety reasons. If you have a truck that's good in the snow, you can borrow a key to the gate. Check in with the Gasquet Ranger District for up-to-date conditions. They were extremely accomodating to me and easy to work with. The take-out is easy: right where US Highway 96 crosses Clear Creek at its mouth. If you can do the trip before significant snow accumulates below 5000 feet, the shuttle is only about 2.5 hours one way over the Greyback Saddle between O'brien, Ore. and Happy Camp, Ca. If the Greyback road is blocked due to snow, you'll be in for a much longer shuttle driving over 5 hours each way through Grants Pass and Ashland.

We hired Bearfoot Brad out of Gasquet (707) 457-3365 to do the entire shuttle for around $100. He is dependable, honest, takes good care of vehicles, and is a great guy to hang out with on the drive. Overall, I was very impressed with the quality of this run. Other than the first mile and Wilderness Falls, the run had no portages. What I've failed to capture in this trip report are the numerous technical rapids. The most challenging rapids of the trip were the dozens of tight boulder gardens. I backpaddled more than ever and it was barely enough to control my loaded kayak. Pins and broken boats are a serious concern throughout this run if you get out of control. There were plenty of campsites spaced throughout the run and the whitewater and scenery are both outstanding. I imagine it will be a few years before someone is fortunate enough to go back in there, but I would absolutely do it again. The conditions for this trip were pretty ideal for our situation and lack of beta. Next time, I would like to get an earlier start and see more water. I'd try to be on the water by noon, partly to avoid the pressure of time, but mostly to take more pictures of this incredible creek. If you are putting together a group and have space for one more, please let me know. I can't wait to run the headwaters of Clear Creek again!

Next time I'll have to take some better pictures. Brock boofing out on a big slide.

Upper Minam River, Oregon: IV

2010-09-16T15:43:00.000-07:00

First known descent from Elk Creek to Red's Horse Ranch

Mike Thurber on the Upper Minam Photo: Leon Werdinger

The logistical ninja for this mission was an unlikely suspect: my father, John Thurber. And a huge thanks goes out to Leon Werdinger for taking all the great photos

Growing up in La Grande, Oregon, the Eagle Cap Wilderness area was our local craggy mountain range for all those silly activities that draw people into the mountains. My dad, brother and I would fish, camp, and hike in many of the glaciated valleys draining the high granite and limestone peaks of the Wallowa Mountains. Once I became a kayaker, I always wondered what whitewater gems might lie in this area that seemed so geologically similar to the creeking mecca of California's Sierras.

Like many before me, I have scouted several of the drainages on foot and concluded that hiking mile-for-mile upstream in most drainages would never be worth paddling the manky wood-choked streams that flow back to the trailhead. But the largest river to flow out of the Wallowas is also the most remote. The Minam River flows over 50 miles through the wilderness area and several miles through rangeland before its confluence with the Wallowa. Twenty-two miles upstream of its mouth, the Minam passes the only airstrips in the entire Eagle Cap Wilderness area at Red's Horse Ranch and the Minam Lodge. With these access points, the lower section of the Minam had been run several times and even rafted commercially for a short while. I must assume that someone had floated the section upstream, but we were unable to find any information about the first descent or any reports published by the earlier explorers. So I suppose we can call it a first known descent

Photo: Dan Thurber

So after extensively studying the topo maps and conferring with local horsepacker about access, John settled on the confluence with Elk Creek as our launch point. We arranged for two mules to carry most of our supplies and make the long hike in a little more manageable. In the morning, Mike and I made it to our parents' house in La Grande, finished loading the truck, and were at the Buck Creek Trailhead by about 2 p.m.

discussing the finer points of our backpack systems. Photo: John Thurber

Our plan was to knock off the first eight miles of the hike and all of the climbing on the first afternoon. John and Leon were taking IK's for the trip and thus able to send them in on mules, so Mike and I were carrying our boats and camping gear, while John packed in all the food we would need for the night. After about 3 hours on the trail, we reached Burger Saddle just as the sun was going down and found a campsite for the night.

Mike and the author at Burger Saddle, 6 p.m. Photo: John Thurber

Day 2
Having knocked off the toughest part of the hike, we had a very casual pace for the second day. We got back on the trail and descended into the Elk Creek drainage for another seven miles before arriving at a nice bridge over the Minam in the early afternoon. The trip had intentionally been planned for mid-summer to achieve a low flow, so Mike and I were expecting a pretty dismal view of the river. To our delight, the river was well-channelized with about 130 cfs and at least for the next 50 yards was deep enough to paddle cleanly.

Camp at Elk Creek before launching. Photo: Dan Thurber

The rest of the day was spent fishing, swatting mosquitoes, and waiting for Leon to join us. I ventured upstream about two miles to see if the river looked fun enough to hike the boat up a little further. I only bushwhacked to the river once, but saw three logs and very little gradient. I decided I could hold off paddling until the next day.

Mike enjoying a nice shady ponderosa. Photo: John Thurber

Day 3
It took quite some time to divvy up the loads and we got a late start at 11 a.m. The river quickly widened and got shallower, with the IK's getting stuck often and us kayakers leaving a fair amount of plastic on the riverbed.

The author negotiating a particularly bony stretch. Photo: Leon Werdinger

Bouncy cobble bar riffles were punctuated by deep, serene pools that made us just want to swim and fish in the hot weather.

Photo: Dan Thurber

The mellow gradient got steeper for about a half-mile right around the confluence with Last Chance Creek. The river was so continuous that it became hard to distinguish any particular rapids.

Leon leading downstream. Photo: Dan Thurber

Overall, we were pleasantly surprised by the lack of wood in the stream. After about 3 miles, we came upon a monstrous logjam in a mellow section and were forced into a quick and easy portage on river right. Studying the topos for the river, we knew we could expect more of the mellow gradient until the confluence with Rock Creek, where the river appeared to steepen to over 80 feet/mile.

Photo of Leon by Dan Thurber

We cautiously progressed into a steeper section as the evening settled in on us. For the first time in the trip, we saw bedrock and something resembling good whitewater. But with the sun setting, we took no time for pictures and worked our way downstream in search of a good campsite. After a half-mile, we exited what we dubbed the Twilight Gorge and were back into chunky boulder gardens. Just around the next couple of corners, we spotted a beach on river left where the river began to steepen again. Our campsite came just in time.

Photo: Leon Werdinger

Day 4
Our biggest day on the water got off to a swift start right off the bat. We were faced with a half-mile of steep boulder-garden that John named "Soggy Britches" after a brief swim. The river continued to drop at about 100 fpm right up to the first horizon line of the trip. Around a right-hand bend, the river disappeared over what turned out to be a class III slide. Some of these steeper rapids were a little above John's comfort level and Leon wanted to get lots of pictures, so Mike and I happily ran the final slide of Soggy Britches twice: once in hardshells and once in duckies.

Mike at the bottom of Soggy Britches. Photo: Leon Werdinger

We continued boatscouting the next couple of miles as the river dropped through more chunky but navigable boulder gardens. At times John and Leon would hop out and line their boats around strainers or especially technical sections, but Mike and I were able to stay in our boats with some creative log ducking and wheelchair boating.

John lining the entrance to Kayak School. Photo: Dan Thurber

Soon enough we arrived at one of the best rapids of the trip. A steep, clean lead-in rapid fed into a short bedrock gorge with several short drops. Mike probed and Leon got set to take pictures. Once John lined the entrance, he got back in his boat to paddle the toughest rapid we'd seen yet. He followed right on my tail for a good clean run through what we dubbed "Kayak School."

Photo: Leon Werdinger

Most of the day was a blur of bouncing our way downstream through cobble bars that would have been much more fun with more water. Mike and I took turns boat-scouting and usually giving the OK signal to Leon and John behind us. For the tougher sections, we got into a steady routine of running in two groups and either Mike or I taking turns hiking back up to run John's boat through while he hiked the conveniently located trail until things mellowed out. One section stood out as the steepest whitewater of the day and we named it the Fuck-All Boulder Garden.

The FABG started with a huge boulder on the right and then the entire river seemed to just siphon out into foot-wide slots. I probed away down the left side until things started to look grim. Then, somehow, my boat just seemed to lift up and bounce over dry rocks into the right channel where there was more water. In the middle of this half-mile section was a single fun ledge. Otherwise, the FABG was just miserable. We stopped halfway through to have a snack and then got back to work abusing our boats.

After the FABG slowed and the gradient tapered off, we were able to make some quick miles. Looking at the topos, I was optimistic that we had cleared the steepest sections and would be paddling flatwater until we reached the horse ranch late afternoon. Sure enough, the river meandered through beautiful meadows

Photo: Leon Werdinger

...then dropped abruptly over the biggest horizon line yet.

Photo: Leon Werdinger

We got out to scout as the river disappeared into a tight bedrock gorge. The entrance slide dropped about 15 feet and we could tell there was plenty more gradient downstream. It was worth scouting the entire gorge before dropping in, especially considering that it was getting late.

We decided to call this section the "Don't Forget Gorge" with each rapid named after the things you want to remember on any well-done self-support kayak expedition. The first rapid we dubbed "Good Beer Falls" in tribute to the 12-pack of microbrews Mike had stuffed into his bow.

Mike on Good Beer, round one. Photo: Leon Werdinger

I went first with a fun boof on the left side of the first ledge, then cut across to run the cleaner right side of the second slide. Mike chose to go right the whole way.

The author on Good Beer Falls. Photo: Leon Werdinger

After clean runs in our hardshells, we went back up to run duckies through. We each felt good about our previous lines and Mike went first with a smooth run. I started down off the first ledge and quickly was reminded that duckies don't boof like creekboats. Where I had previously cruised right past the backwash of a ledge hole, my bow this time got sucked right in. So there I was, sidesurfing a fully-loaded inflatable kayak in a sticky hole right above a potentially sharp and shallow slide.

A less inspiring run the second time around. Photo: Leon Werdinger

Fears of broken legs were running through my head as I braced downstream and wrestled my way to either side of the hole. Thankfully, the boat had thigh straps and after about 10 seconds I found a weak point and paddled out of the hole to a clean run over the bottom slide.

Next up was "Summer Sausage," another fun couple of bedrock ledges that wasn't nearly as eventful as its predecessor. The third rapid was "Wag Bag," because at first it was really clean, fun, and looked like a great idea. But in the end, it was completely full of shit. At the bottom of a cool-looking fast S-turn, the river flowed over two low-head dams that appeared to be made of logs across the river with slats nailed to them. They both looked fairly runnable, but the second one had a terminal hydraulic if you didn't clear it and there was no way to set safety. Besides, I kind of have a rule against running anything man-made, so the portage began.

Mike and I ponder the wooden dams filling up the Wag Bag. Photo: Leon Werdinger

John and Leon elected to just portage the entire gorge, but Mike and I wanted to run the rest of it, so we took the time to carry our boats up to the top of the gorge, walk around Wag Bag, and rope our boats back down at the first good opportunity. The sun was in our eyes as we ran the last two rapids, which we'll call "Flip Flops" and "Bug Spray" respectively. We quickly exited the gorge and met up with the rest of the crew.

Photo: Leon Werdinger

It was starting to get dark, so we wanted to find ourselves a camp as soon as possible. The day had worn on all of us and we looked forward to dinner and dry clothes. We went charging around the next couple of corners and before we knew it, were once again in a steep boulder-garden with few eddies. Things got fairly chaotic as we all went scrambling for eddies. We were going sideways, backwards, bumping into each other, and kept getting pinballed back into the main channel by unseen boulders, but eventually we were all able to stop. Getting so out of control and congested without knowing what lay downstream had been the most heart-racing moment of the trip. Using better spacing, we carefully hopped our way to the bottom of this rapid and called it "Don't Tell Mom."

Right where we pulled over was a conveniently flat bench in the trees and we called it a night.

Photo: Leon Werdinger

Day 5
This time, we really were done with the rapids. From our campsite below Don't Tell Mom, we paddled easy class II for a couple miles before arriving at the nice bridge and Red's.

Photo: Dan Thurber

We took a quick break and Mike went into the lodge to re-up our beer supply, but got back on track soon as we had only covered a third of our 45 miles. Luckily, Red's Horse Ranch marks a geologic change in the river where it flows out of the granite bedrock of the Wallowas and into Columbia Basalt flows more reminiscent of the Grande Ronde river canyon.

Photo: Leon Werdinger

This meant less gradient and less character to the river-bed, and we really didn't have any more memorable rapids. Just below the ranch we had a couple quick log portages but then started making mileage.

Photo: Leon Werdinger

The river was still a bit chunky, but we didn't suffer anymore pins and didn't eddy out except for lunch and camp. We scored on a slightly developed camp on the right at the mouth of a creek. The following day we woke up and paddled just a couple more hours down to the take-out at Minam State Park.

Photo: Leon Werdinger

Conclusion
We had a gage reading of 350 cfs on the Minam. At that flow, the river is certainly navigable, but very very scrapy. It reminded me somewhat of a less steep lower McCloud. I didn't put any gouges in my boat and wouldn't worry about breaking it, but it got lots of new scratches. Being upside-down at almost any point on this run would be very unpleasant and if I were to do it again at these flows, I would probably rather paddle a ducky. With significantly more water, I think this could become a somewhat classic run. The Minam is a spectacular river and may offer the best paddling in the Wallowas. Access is certainly a challenge, but you just have to look at it as part of the expedition. The hike is on a well-graded trail maintained for horses and you get beautiful views of the Grande Ronde and Powder Valleys as well as craggy summits in the Eagle Cap Wilderness. I would first go back in at 20 cfs with a bunch of dynamite and get those damn dams out of Wag Bag. Then I'd go back in at 1000 cfs and plan on a 2-day trip and a rocking good time of class III-IV water in the most beautiful corner of Oregon.

Photo: Leon Werdinger

Rio Cotahuasi: IV

2010-02-01T19:33:00.000-08:00

Endless Incan ruins and countless boofs

Finally, 14 months after we reached the take-out, I'm getting around to writing about the classic Cotahuasi. The Rio Cotahuasi (pronounced coat-a-wassi) in southern Peru was the final goal on our hit list of multi-day adventures for 2008. This canyon was also the one that got each of us interested in Peru as a destination. I read a great write-up on Oregon Kayaking and the Cotahuasi is getting pushed as a commercial raft trip for those really seeking an adventure. It is well on its way to becoming a world classic.

Many claim that the Cotahuasi Canyon is the deepest in the world. It is rather the deepest in the Americas, as several Himalayan canyons are significantly deeper.

Still, at almost 12,000 feet from river to rim, it's no drainage ditch. It's more of an irrigation canal. And that's just how Incans used it in pre-Colombian times. The river was widely used for irrigating small farms throughout the canyon and in the lower valley.

Rapids and ruins in the Andes' deepest gorge

The canyon was also an artery connecting the coastal communities to the rest of their empire in the andean highlands. The canyon is full of trails, irrigation canals, and terraced hillsides. In fact, those floating the Cotahuasi River will pass more incan ruins than hikers on their way to Machu Picchu.

By the time we reached the town of Cotahuasi, we'd been in Peru for nearly two months. Most of that time was spent paddling boats loaded for overnighters. The rest seemed to be spent in buses or clunky old trucks with our boats strapped on top. We were also getting dumped off in the small-town plaza at 2 in the morning with no lodging arrangements or sense of direction. We found a hostel, spent the next day planning and packing, and then got after it once more.

In the hostel courtyard getting things ready

Mike and Zak serenading the town, or at least the laundry

Much like its sister river the Colca, the Cotahuasi trip starts with a long hike into the canyon with burros schlepping the boats. And everything else for that matter. From the get go, we could tell that this canyon would be totally different.

Although deeper by over 1,000 feet, it isn't as steep as the Colca Canyon. The canyon walls are more of mountainsides than cliff faces. It is still desert, but there are at least plants growing and 30-foot tall saguaro cacti right out of Loony Tunes.

This donkey is so stoked to have the shortest, lightest boat in the fleet!

The hike is also much easier, as the road goes right to the river. The "hike in" is all just an all-day portage around Sipia Falls, a huge set of cascades dropping several hundred feet.

The river disappearing into a crack at Sipia Falls

The first two drops of 5-tiered Sipia

After a full day of re-rigging boats on burros each time they fell off, we finally made it to the river. Again, there was a small village where our burro driver lived and we visited him for dinner. Many of the villages down here make wine as a primary export, and it'd be a lie to say we didn't sample a little before wandering back to camp for the night.

After the first few hours of easy class III, we noticed a small community nestled on the hillside. We pulled over, geared down, and walked up the trail. At first, we couldn't find any people. There were some pigs running around the alleys between adobe brick walls, a few birds flying overhead, and perched atop the walls was a dense lattice work of grapevines. We knew these locals were making some wine and wanted to check it out.

Soon, a young girl rounded a corner, got one look at us, and high-tailed it back through a doorway. No doubt she was a little surprised to see four tall gringos in bright clothes show up suddenly. Her mother came out to meet us and was very polite, inviting us into their hut. They were more than willing to sell us wine at a fraction of its cost in stores, as this way they wouldn't have to haul it out on burros for 14 hours. The locals offered great conversation as well, and I finally started to build a little linguistic confidence. Liquid courage always helps.

Mike and Zak chat with the locals about life off the grid

After polishing off a few bottles of wine, another woman invited us over to her house for a fruit salad. On the short walk, she picked a ripe papaya and a few mangos to throw in the mix. We helped slice the fresh fruit and then helped devour it. The kindness and generosity of people in rural Peru is still my fondest impression from the entire six months I spent south of the equator. By the time we made it back to our boats, it was getting a little late and we set up camp near the village.

This was the last community of people we saw in the canyon, but ruins were a different story. Around every corner, we came upon aqueducts and terraces. We stopped to check out several of them, but to just visit them all would take months. I'll let the pictures do the talking.

These remains were at a ruin lower in the canyon

Incan farming terraces

Eating well on a multi-day

Intricate pot shards from the same site as the skull. Don't worry, we put them back.

Zak and Dave checking on Incan handiwork

The whitewater wasn't half-bad either. The Cotahuasi is reported to be 100 km of continuous class IV and V whitewater. It was certainly continuous, and some of it was class IV, but it didn't quite match the beta.

Not to say it wasn't good. Every hundred yards we had something to boof. There wasn't ever flatwater, and occasional horizon lines would indicate the class IV drops. Also, our trip was at very low water and from looking at the high water lines we could imagine how rowdy this place becomes during the rainy season.

Zak takes flight off a nice ledge

Creatively named "The Wall"

Dave working his way through Centimeter

Mike catching big air

Dave in the middle of "Marpa"

Me in Centimeter right before my nosejob

Mike at the bottom of Marpa

The rapids were mostly boulder gardens for the first three days with lots of optional boofs. On day four, we got into some pushier mini-gorge bedrock drops.

Mike in a pushy drop

Zak pushes back

The bedrock section is short-lived and leads paddlers to the confluence of the Rio Maran. The Maran is another big multi-day mission and shares a dreadful paddle-out with the Cotahuasi. We'd heard about what a drag this next section would be, so we put our heads down and got going.

Starting the paddle out as the canyon opens up

The paddle out is about 30km of low-gradient class II braided channels. This is probably my least favorite style of boating, and I could only wish that Will was there, with his trusty raft and cooler full of cold beer.

Every channel was full of these pickets, which are used for holding crayfish nets. The spacing was just wide enough for a kayak and they would have been a strainer hazard, but every time we hit one it just fell over

The braided valley we had to paddle through

But alas, us kayakistas had to fend for ourselves and paddled for hours until we were all exhausted, dehydrated and it was starting to get dark. We pulled over for the night and finished the paddle-out that morning in about another hour. With luck, a bus had just pulled in to the town at the end of the road. We loaded up the boats as usual, alongside the village's latest harvest. After one bus switch and eight hours on bumpy roads, we were back in the comforts of our $5/night hostel in Arequipa for a happy Thanksgiving.

Overlooking Cataractas Sipia

We all missed our family and friends over the American holidays, but never forgot about home. One night on the Cotahuasi we passed the rum around toasting all of you. It has been an incredible adventure down here in Peru, certainly the greatest accomplishment in my life. Over the eight weeks we spent here, we managed to get on every river we wanted to when we left home. We were all beat and worn out from the full schedule of multi-day expeditions and the experience was priceless. Thanks for following along, I hope you've enjoyed reading. And I owe major gratitude to Mikey, Zak, and Dave for bringing me along and making this trip happen. Cheers boys!

Rio Colca: IV

2009-10-06T11:26:00.000-07:00

November 16, 2008 (ish)

After an epic hike to the bottom of one of the world's most dramatic canyons, we set up camp on the beach in the small village of Canco, Peru. The famous Colca River was a calm trickle of algae as we got excited to run another world classic. We were all humbled and awed by sitting at the bottom of a canyon over twice as deep as any in North America.

The thought of venturing downstream should have had all rather nervous as well, but we knew the Colca gets run commercially, had some beta on portages, and heard the whitewater was rather easy, at least compared to the Mapacho and Apurimac we had run back in October. We were just in for a good time in a mind-blowing, remote canyon. Hiking out here is not an option.

In the morning we made it about 12 minutes downstream before finding vistas that warranted a photo stop. Another ten minutes downstream, we had to stop once again. This would be the pace for the next three days. The canyon had our mouths hanging wide open, but the water flow had us rather nervous. We almost had to get out of our boats twice in the first half hour to get through shallow sections.

To our relief, a tributary joined us on the right, more than doubling our flow. The water coming in was crystal clear, and almost glowed bright blue. Even coming from the Northwest, this was the most breathtakingly beautiful water I've ever seen. For the rest of our trip the river would be clear and cold, making us Oregonians feel right at home.

Shortly after lunch, the action started. A small creek joined us from the right, a massive wall rose over a thousand feet high above the left bank, and the river dropped out of sight. We scouted and found a very manageable class IV rapid.

We all came through with out trouble and I brought up the rear. But in the pool below, whistles were blaring. Everyone was waving me over to the river-right eddy, away from the wall.

Behind me, and right where I'd been, small rocks were tumbling off the cliff 1000 feet overhead into the river. After Zak completed the rapid, a chunk the size of a softball landed right next to his boat. Luckily, the big one missed him. But a smaller rock, perhaps golf-ball sized, struck him square in the shoulder. We were trapped in the bottom of a massive gorge with no way out but downstream. So we pulled over and geared down.

Zak was about as fine as one could be after being hit by a rock at terminal velocity. No broken bones, no blood, no damaged gear. So we took the opportunity to sit on a beach for a while. The whole time, small rocks kept plunging into the river at the base of the cliff across from us. Now and then one would even reach the shore we sat on.

Eventually we were ready to continue downstream. The steady rockslide still hadn't ceased, so it was a rush for each of us to get to the water, hop in our boats, and get the hell out of there before getting hit my more falling debris. We made it out safely, but rockfalls were first on all of our minds.

We were just entering what we knew to be the first gorge of class IV rapids and unknown length. When we think of rock dodging in kayaks, the rocks usually aren't moving. So a whole new element was added. Furthermore, it was getting late. We started looking for campsites within the gorge.

We found one nice looking bench with lots of flat spots. It was also on the opposite side of the river from the rockfalls. Oddly, the "flat" space was ground I've never seen before or since. There was a thick layer of fine dust resembling snow. When we tried to walk through it, we sank up to our knees. There was just enough consolidated dirt for us to sleep on and we didn't see any rockfall debris, so we discussed camping there for the night.

Just then we heard a rumble on the canyon wall above us. We watched in amazement as a boulder the size of beachball came trundling downhill, right across our proposed campsite and vanished into the dust field. Gone. Along with god only knows how much other fallout. We kept going.

After a few more great class IV rapids, we happened upon a great spot. It was tight, but protected on both sides from wind and and overhanging wall kept us safe from falling rocks. We finally calmed down a little and settled into where we were. For the rest of the trip, we didn't have any problems.

The next morning we quickly paddled out of the first gorge through a few more rapids. The whitewater was more challenging that I had been led to believe. We all welcomed the challenge and bounced down through countless great rapids with many fun moves.

As the morning wore on, we began scouting more and more, in anticipation for the upcoming portages. Yet every scout revealed more clean drops. This run was shaping up to be a true classic.

As though the canyon wasn't breathtaking all the way down, we rounded one corner and were truly blown away. On river left, a small creek was cresting the horizon more than a thousand feet above our heads.

The water fell in a series of cascades down into the river. The wind near the lip of the waterfall was whipping the ribbon of water back and forth so some drops wouldn't even reach the bottom. High above, three andean condors soared on 11-foot wingspans. We decided it was an appropriate time for lunch and ate in a huge protected cavern across from the cascade.

Downstream, we all took turns scouting each horizon line for the portages and each time the scout would give clear beta to the rest on yet another great drop. The whitewater was continually exceeding our expectations.

As the canyon opened up a bit, we saw a rusty old cable crossing and something we really didn't expect: people. The two Peruvians maybe expected us even less, but were still friendly. They were at the bottom of the canyon for a couple days fishing for camarones: crayfish. In another day a mule team would come down to haul their catch up to the market to sell. But in the mean time, the gentlemen were more than happy to sell us whatever we wanted. And with that, we had fresh meat for the night.

Eventually we entered another narrow canyon and got out to scout a chunky boulder pile. This was clearly the first portage. And a cool portage it was. With teamwork, we passed all the boats up over enormous boulders towards the bottom of the rapid. Adjacent to the last drop, we lowered our boats into a cavernous space with a pool at the bottom. There, we got back in our boats underneath all the rocks and paddled out through a tiny porthole. Portage complete.

Shortly thereafter, we found camp for the night and got to cooking another delicious meal over the fire.

The next morning we only ran one rapid before arriving at the next portage. This one was a bit more technical, requiring us to walk the first part on the left before getting cliffed out. We then ferried across in a decent pool before walking the second drop on the right. The second part was runnable, but more water would have made it much more attractive.

The second portage marked the heart of Polish Canyon, the last gorge of the Colca named after the original explorers. We paddled out and in true Peruvian expedition fashion, had no shuttle set. We continued downriver to where the road parallels the river and carried our boats up. Just down the street, a small store had beer for sale.

So we drank on the side of the road waiting for a ride. An hour and a half later, a local collectivo came by. We tied our boats up on the roof, piled into the small van with the other 13 people inside, and moved on to our next river.

The Futaleufu: Class L (for lifechanging)

2009-05-07T16:24:00.000-07:00

There's plenty of information out there for the Futaleufu River in southern Chile. It's a world-class destination and was our last stop in a four-month tour of South American whitewater. Sadly, there are rather definite plans to dam the Futa, turning the beautiful valley into a stagnant lake. Sound familiar? I won't go into it too much or repeat information you could find all over the web. This time, I'll let the photos do the talking. I took a few of these photos, but all others are copyright of Darren at sunchasersphotography.com. Please ask me before you use any of these images.

Rio Suarez: IV+

2009-03-19T17:50:00.000-07:00

Well the stars just aligned. After parting with Allen and traveling up into Colombia, I met up with Kees in San Gil. I hadn't seen him since Cusco in November, but our paths connected just before he left the country. As of St. Patrick's Day, Kees had paddled an hour and a half in all of 2009. I wasn't much better with not having been in a boat in seven weeks. But San Gil happens to be a popular rafting zone, Kees happened to know the best outfitter very well, and they happened to have all the gear I needed.

Gettin´ things ready

So they set me up with a Riot Magnum 80 and a tolerable gear kit as well as a ride to the river with an afternoon commercial trip. God, I love the boating community.

Not looking half bad for borrowed gear...

The Suarez is a great class IV+/V- half-day trip not too far out of town. We had a good level for some big water jungle boating. But I still felt rather intimidated, reflecting on the last time I decided to get off the proverbial couch directly into low class V. That humbling experience was about to be repeated.

Peeling out of the eddy, I immediately felt weak. It was a struggle to keep my angle and just to ferry across the next eddy. I almost flipped in the first wavetrain, and that wasn't even considerd one of the rapids.

The first wavetrain. This photo doesn`t do justice to the epic surf wave on river left at the top.

Through the first two rapids, I had a chance to loosen up a bit. I found balance in the new boat, but still was far from confident. I was paddling like I was scared. Perhaps because I was a little scared. I hadn't found a pool yet for practice rolls and wasn't sure how the big boat would react. The third rapid we ran was close to a kilometer long. So far there hadn't been many moves to make, but the hydraulics were plenty powerful and unpredictable. And I was out of breath by the end of the rapids. Then we got to the hard stuff.

Kees doing his thing

The next two rapids were bigger. They had holes to avoid. And rocks. The first one you enter on the right. Or was in the left? The second one has an enormous hole blocking half of the river at the bottom. With that beta in my head, we peeled out, Kees leading the way.

Ready to follow Kees over the horizon

We ferried across the river above a nasty boulder jumble, and the fun began. I saw Kees moving right above a set of holes. I tried to follow, but was relocated by a big lateral at just the wrong time. So I made a dicey airplane move splitting the two holes. I kept trying to move right, but it wasn`t enough. A surging lateral picked me up and dropped me right into one of the stickiest holes on the run, where the fun promptly ended.

I think this is what Kees was doing at the time

I held the side-surf upright for about three seconds before going under. Try as I might I couldn`t grab water with my paddle to pull me out the bottom of the hole, so this turned into any other violent hydraulic beatdown. I was backwards, sideways, upright, forwards, cartwheeling, looping, rolling, and starting to freak out. The only thing I wasn`t doing was breathing. After a 20 second battle, I finally cartwheeled my way out the back of the hole to calmer waters and gradually rolled up. The rapid began to let up and I eddied out with Kase, who told me we were close to the big one.

Kees makes everything look easy

After catching my breath, we headed downriver, making some fun moves through a boulder jumble on river left. Then made a big move through strong waves back right of the first big hole.

The raft about to punch a big one

From there we had an easy time working along the bank to the pool below, and it was time to have lunch.

Our nice little lunch beach in the jungle

After lunch we had some easy water grading up to more class IV wavetrains. One long one led us under the only bridge of the run, then turned a corner into a minefield of holes. I made it through alright, but the raft lost half of its passengers. One girl had a rather long swim but was holding the safety kayak for most of it.

Kees explodes off one of the bigger waves just above the bridge

We came to the last rapid and I got beta on the entrance move to split a couple big moves. I wasn`t agressive enough and rolled in the middle of the crux. I came back up with a lucky position and avoided everything. Then we barreled through 200 yards of monstrous waves. But it all went. Everyone cleared the finale with big grins and we made our way to the private take-out just downstream.

The last rapid, check out that high water line...

If you´re interested in rafting in Colombia, go with Colombia Rafting. They`re by far the safest and most professional outfitter around and the Río Suarez is well worth stopping for.

Eight happy people when all was said and done

Upper Palguin: IV

2009-01-04T07:23:00.000-08:00

Mike approaches the end of drop 1

The upper section of the Palguin River near Pucon is one of the best backyard runs imaginable. And it truly is in the backyard of Ben May, owner of Kayak Chile on the main drag in Pucon. We spent a couple days camping out at his place, working on the trail, and running laps on this waterfall playground.

I only ever ran the first half of the run, which is reported to be the best part. It can be easily run in 15 minutes and includes three great drops that are clean and fairly easy.
Putting in below the natural bridge

The run starts with a 12-foot seal launch into a pool, which flushes immediately into the first rapid, a confused double-drop. After a short lead-in, the river drops four feet through a slot into a boily little room. Then the rapid ends with an 8-foot drop into a clean, calm pool below.

Zak on the lead-in to the first drop

And stomping his way into the pool below;

My first time down I backendered in the slot, rolled up in the room, and had just enough time to catch a breath before flipping again off the wall as I drifted backwards over the lip of the 8-footer. Not a stylish line at all. Luckily, the channel is deep, the drop forgiving. Plenty of people have run this one upside-down with very little consequence.

As you continue downstream, the drops get taller and easier. The pool below the first drop drains into a short rapid leading to the lip of the second drop, a 15-footer. This one isn´t really scoutable, but you can eddy out within view of the horizon line to plan your approach. Go right boofing right. The left side has a retentive pocket that swims many people, but the right side has a boof flake that gives some great air-time.

Allen catching air on the second drop

That`s me!

Zak with a perfect flat landing

After another 50 yards of calm water comes the third drop, a 20-footer with two options. The right channel is easier to boof, but has a slightly off-angle approach. The left channel has a rolling lip and can easily be plugged, but also gives great practice for late boofs. Both are very non-consequential, class III drops.

Me not exactly boofing the right side

Orion running it blind

The next horizon line is the crack drop, with a very narrow slide that people run, trying not to catch paddles on rocks. We always took out on the right at the lip of this one, and hiked back up along the good trail for another lap.

A New Years Reflection

2009-01-01T12:26:00.000-08:00

I don´t know who created the calendar we used, or why they chose to break things up the way they did. Not that I care, but placing the turnover to a new year where it is seems a little odd. Why isn´t it scheduled with a solstice or equinox somewhere along the line? Or perhaps the day Pangea finally split apart? That was certainly the dawning of a new era, eh? We could celebrate that annually with parades, fireworks, and belligerence. But most importantly, why is the new year scheduled so inconveniently that I have to take the time right now to do this? Reflect.

Ok, so what to reflect on. Well, guess. What am I completely obsessed with such that it consumes most of my time, money, creativity, and all my time to think freely? Boating, of course. As I hang out down here in Chile and the new year encroaches, I´ve taken a chance to look back at the year I´ve had. 2008 was by far my best season of whitewater yet. In fact, it´s quite possible that I´ll never again live up to the season I´ve had. At least statistically speaking.

The following post is really more for myself than anyone else. But if you´re interested in my quick little recap of a great season, join on in.

Saddle Creek, Grand Canyon

The year started out for me waking up somewhere around mile 238 in the Grand Canyon. We made mamosas. Not because we were hungover, just alcoholics. But the important thing was being down there for three and a half weeks with 15 other great people.

It really is a very grand canyon

After the trip, I returned to Corvallis for the winter. Boating there didn´t happen for me, but I made plenty of trips south to Ashland or north to Portland to visit friends and explore the local rain-fed runs. By the time the term ended at OSU, I was done. I left Corvallis with my car and savings from the winter, with my eyes on very little beyond new rivers.

Ready for some All-Tracking

Oregon Hole Gorge, MF Smith

Overnighting the lower McCloud

I spent much of my time in Northern California, but also paddled about some in Oregon and Washington, with trips on the Illinois, Rogue, Canyon Creek, Mollala and White Salmon.

Peter Gandesberry, NF Cal-Salmon

Big Kahuna on Canyon Creek, WA

Ryan Morgan, NF Molalla hike-in

Oregon Rafting Team in the Cal-Salmon Race

Darin on one of many, many Box Canyon laps

My favorite move on my favorite run: Upper Clear Creek

Green Wall Rapid, Illinois River

As May ground onward, I found myself enjoying hot, sunny days from the Cal-Salmon to Pauley Creek.

Darin McQuoid, Kidder Creek

Disneyland rapid, SF Cal-Salmon

But after an unfortunate swim in Federal Falls at flood, I decided to take a little break from boating. Afterall, it was only a couple weeks before the commercial season started for me in Idaho. And it started with a bang.

I was a little thrown off by the colder weather and water when I put in on Marsh Creek in late May without pogies. But a couple days later, I was no longer risking frostbite and was happy to be kayaking on the Middle Fork at 6 feet with the OARS training trip. Over the course of those 13 days, I strung together the entire Salmon sequence, from Marsh Creek above 6,000 feet to Heller Bar on the Snake below 1,000. Altogether, the trip was over 300 miles long. As the Salmon was where I got my start with whitewater, it has always been a dream of mine to run do all three popular wilderness runs as one trip. As an extra bonus, I got to see Devil´s Slide at 40,000 cfs and have a first-hand account of the rapid that keeps people off the river at half that flow!

Dropping into the Slide at high water

It was a busy work season for me with leading several trips and spending a little too much time on the Lower Salmon instead of the Main and Middle Fork. Luckily, I was able to maintain sanity on days off with trips on the South Fork Salmon, Lochsa, and Kootenai rivers.

At the beginning of Summer, very few of us had concrete plans for the fall. Throughout the season, we would discuss options over cocktails at the guide house and ultimately, Mike, Zak and I agreed on Peru after our work was done. So just before I launched on another Grand Canyon trip, we bought tickets.

Mike and I ran a couple laps on the Green Truss on our way to LAX to meet with Zak and fly out. Getting our boats on the plane was a bit of a struggle, but everything worked out in the end and by October 7th, we were happily moved into a hostal in Cusco looking for the next river. Over the course of the next two months, we found our way down ten different runs including five overnighters. We topped off our stint in Peru with the classic Colca-Cotahuasi circuit and made tracks for Chile.

Toothache rapid, Apurimac River

Beers under banana trees at the takeout

Black Canyon, Apurimac River

Peruvian children loved our boats

Locked in to the Lucumayo

Portaging through Ollantaytambo

Figuring out the Mapacho

One of countless good rapids on the best river anywhere: the Mapacho

Mike and Zak had been in Chile four years ago, so they had a good idea of where to go. The day after arriving in town, I met up with some locals for a morning run on the local classic, the upper Palguin. It´s a short-and-sweet run with three clean drops, and I ran my first 20-footer that day. It was the perfect place to get used to running waterfalls, which have been the focus of most of our travels around Pucon. After a couple weeks hanging out in town with more runs on the Palguin, we took off for our Christmas road trip.

Falling on the Fuy

Allen on the Llancahue

Zak, Upper Palguin, Drop 2

Blue Angels on the Fuy

Zak finishing off the best rapid I´ve ever run. Río Gol Gol

Christmas day was my last day on the water for the season, with a great warm day on the Fuy. In the week leading up to it, we also ran the Llancahue, Gol-Gol, and the Negro. I ran the first rapid on the Lizan, but don´t quite count that as a full day of boating. So here´s the count:

Total days on the water: 174
Unique runs: 52
Personal first descents: 36
Gear lost/broken: 1 paddle, 1 helmet, 1 mosquito net, 1 cotton sock, some foam blocks, a door on Tupper´s Subaru.
Degrees of lattitude covered: 93
Runs missed out on that I´ll get next time: MF Feather, Clear Creek Headwaters, Bridge Creek, Wooley Creek, NF Feather, SF Yuba

At any rate, it´s been a hell of a year. I´ve had the time of my life in such beautiful places with wonderful people. Thank you to everyone who has joined me on the water this year or otherwise encouraged my little escapades. I love you all and wish you the best for 2009.
Thanks for reading!

I just love this picture too much to not post it again!

Río Gol Gol: V

2008-12-26T15:03:00.000-08:00

The Gol Gol is yet another classic Chilean waterfall playground. Zak and Mike had been down before at higher water and we´d all heard plenty of good reviews on the river, so we made it a priority on our Christmas road trip. The Gol Gol is a step up from the nearby Fuy and while a class IV boater can easily run the river with a few portages, confident huckers can go as big as they want. There aren´t many boaters out there that wouldn´t be nervous and thrilled about dropping 50-foot Salto del Indio at the takeout.

We put in on a tributary of the legendary Gol Gol, parking at the border check on the Chilean side (although the actual border is way up the road). The scrapy float into the main river was oddly reminiscent of running Nordheimer Creek into the Cal-Salmon. After 20 minutes of flatwater and some class III rapids, we eddied out to scout the first drop.

Salto de los Novios (Boyfriend Falls?) was visible from the road on the way up and drops about 20 feet with the lead-in. The right channel had a really fun-looking line with a unique move, but it was out of the question due to a rock in the landing zone. We all chose the shallower left channel with mixed results. Both days that we ran it, Zak launched incredible super-boofs, landing stern first and keeping his head dry.

Mike running the far left line

There is plenty of recovery time to roll up after the falls, but a swim here would be painful due to the chunky rapid just downstream. From here, we paddled about a mile of class III/IV pool-drop rapids where nothing really stood out. That is, until we came to the second drop.

Brian on the entrance ledge

The second big one on the Gol Gol is probably my favorite rapid anywhere. The river spreads out over an 8-foot ledge with a variety of lines to choose from. The river feeds into 50-yards of class III boulder garden, then accelerates over a fast, clean 20-footer.

Zak finishing off the second drop

Both times I ran this one I flipped upon landing the bottom drop, but still came away intact and elated from a blissful rapid. Mike seemed to have the best line the first day, with a perfect entry angle to shoot away from the falls.

Immediately below the second drop is a class III rapid with a couple of fun boof moves. The next drop is a chunky 25-foot double drop we all portaged right away via a good trail on the right. From there it was easy boogey water to the fourth drop.

The fourth drop had me a bit nervous, as it had a retentive hole that swam two people last time Mike and Zak had been down here. We caught small eddies half-way through the lead-in and hopped out to scout on the left. Zak then led the way with a big, loud boof giving Mike and me confidence to follow with the same. It turned out to be a fairly easy drop so long as we were in the right spot, and the landing was a bit hard.

Zak cleans the fourth drop with a strong boof

In the pool below drop 4, we saw the Rio Colorado flow in from river left. Passing it, I couldn´t help but wonder how much time I could have saved the day before by following that river downstream. We soon were at the lip of another horizon line and were out of our boats again to scout 30-foot Salto Repercura on the right.

Scouting Repercura from the viewing platform

The morning before, we had hiked from camp to the viewing platform across from Repercura on river left. From there we could clearly see the line, but could also clearly see the nasty undercut/cave wall on river right. This hazard is invisible from the scout on river right, and I would highly recommend scouting from both sides before running the drop. We all ended up portaging that day on the left, where there is a marginal trail at the base of a cliff face.

The left channel of Repercura

After a 20-minute portage around the waterfall, the river offers nothing more than class II and flatwater. Oh, and a 50-foot waterfall: Del Indio. As big drops go, this one looks reasonably doable with a huge cushion, deep pool, and plenty of room to roll up below or swim your boat to shore if you blow a skirt or break a paddle.

On my third trip down the Gol-Gol, Allen got pumped up and fired up his biggest drop ever!

Halfway down, he disappeared behind the folding curtains and went super deep. The impact blew out an earplug, both elbow pads, and the corner of his skirt. But he resurfaced after several seconds and rolled up strong. Then came Brian....

The two boys had pretty much the same line, but Brian was only down for a couple seconds before resurfacing upright and paddling away with a big smile. I was just happy to sit in the pool below with a great angle to watch my buddies stick their lines!

Note: Many people refer to the waterfall I´ve called Repercura as Salto La Princessa. Just below this drop, the river corridor splits into two channels, rejoining in the pool below Del Indio, which is in the right channel. The left channel is now dry (at least at low water), but looking at the riverbed, it´s obvious there was historically a 25-footer followed by some rapids. According to local information, this dry waterfall is Princessa. The point is, if you think my pictures look just like those others took of a drop called Princessa, that´s because they are. Get over it.

Río Fuy: IV+ with waterfalls

2008-12-26T07:25:00.000-08:00

The third stop on our Christmas road trip was the Río Fuy, a river well-known for its collection of consecutive waterfalls. We found easy camping at the take-out for the upper run, but woke up to rain and cold weather. After the first few rapids, I took a deep swim out of a ledge hole and ultimately hiked out halfway through the waterfall section on well-developed trails courtesy of the Huilo-Huilo lodge up on the highway. Clearly, I had to return for a sense of completion. So on Christmas Day, we awoke at the same campsite to beautiful clear skies and the promise of a hot afternoon.

From the put-in in Puerto Fuy, the river flows out of a large lake and gradually builds up steam to a collection of class III and IV rapids. With our flows, everything was boat-scoutable and pool-drop.

Mike running the ledge I swam out of

Joe having himself a great Christmas

After a dozen good rapids, the Río Fuy pools up, then drops off the edge of the Earth. The waterfall section kicks off with a clean 30-footer, followed closely by four more smaller drops. This may be the best 500 meters of whitewater I´ve ever run.

Mike 30 feet in the air with some serious gradient yet to come

Drop 1 - Salto La Leona: 30ft

The water was dead-calm approaching the lip, giving us plenty of time to line up exactly where we wanted. From the right bank, we could easily scout the line, which started off with a 5-foot slide into a flake that launched us out into a soft landing. At our flow, the drop was very flushy and most of the water we were landing in went right into an eddy on river right. Between the two days, we all had a variety of lines. I demonstrated my inability to boof out straight, both times turning sideways in the air and landing on edge. Still, I didn´t flip either time, which I attribute entirely to my boat. For a drop of this height, I can´t imagine it getting any easier or more forgiving.

Me at the top of La Leona with the second drop in the foreground

Joe resurfacing after a perfect line off the big one

Drop 2: 8ft

The river was still partially aerated from the first drop as it flowed over an 8-10 foot ledge. The second drop has a sticky-looking hole in the middle, with sneak lines on either side. Both times, Joe, Mike, and I took the scrapier boof on the right side while Zak and Alan had good runs with the left line. The ledge is immediately followed by a class III rapid leading into the next set of drops.

Mike in the runnout of the second drop

Drop 3: 10ft?
The third drop is really a low-angle slide that picks up plenty of speed before crashing through two big holes. It´s easily scoutable, and much steeper than it looks. Fortunately, with the speed you get coming down the tongue, the two holes aren´t a big deal. Still, this slide intimidated me into hiking out on the first run, mostly because it leads directly into drop 4. Alan and Zak still fired it up with a little chaos, but good runs.

Blue angels dropping in

Things get a little wild.....

But they keep it alive to the lip of drop 4

Drop 4: 10ft
This one isn´t easily scoutable or portageable, which is a shame considering the hole at the base of it. The lip is a uniform horseshoe shape and forms a massive hydraulic that I want nothing to do with. The line is to drive off the left corner and boof into the eddy, which isn´t too hard if you´re in the right spot.

The waterfalls from below, with the sticky fourth drop in the foreground

Drop 5: 15ft

The last waterfall offers up a great finale. An easy lead-in with an obvious marker hole lets you get plenty of speed before soaring off a boof flake that´s impossible to miss into a clean, forgiving landing. What more can you ask for? Below the perfect 15-footer is about a kilometer of class II-III to the take-out.

Zak approaches the lip

Joe with another great run

On our Christmas run I was nervous, but excited for the third and fourth drops (which we all ran as one rapid without eddying out). But when I arrived in the eddy above the the slide, there was runaway gear downstream and I was the only one in my boat. I had to go. I took a moment to catch my breath and try to recall what everything looked like from the scout several days before. The gear kept going and I made chase, driving left down the slide. I bounced through the holes without incident and set my eyes on the weir downstream.

Me at the lip of the slide (drop 3)

I came up to the lip with plenty of speed, but my timing was off. I was forced to boof with the wrong blade, but everything still worked out and I paddled away hooting. I continued to chase the runaway boat through a hundred yards of boogey water when I suddenly found myself at another horizon line. I hopped out to give the last drop a quick scout, ran the obvious and easy line, and pushed the boat into an eddy shortly thereafter. In the rush, I wasn´t able to get many pictures myself, but the other guys came down behind me with cameras.

On the same run, Zak waited until we had all gone through so he could run the first four drops in sequence without stopping. He took a perfect line off the 30-footer that lined him up to finish off the next three without getting his head wet. This is truly an outstanding section of whitewater.

Río Llancahue: IV+

2008-12-26T06:34:00.002-08:00

About an hour and a half south of Pucon, the Río Llancahue flows off the southern flank of Volcan Villarica. We made two separate trips to this classic creeky run. The first time, we put in too high, forcing us into a silly portage back up to the road where we walked to a better put-in. Just below the put-in comes the highlight of the run: a beautifully clean 23-footer into a big pool.

Alan nailing the line perfectly, 20 feet in the air

The lead-in offers a fast angled approach to the lip, where you slide down the first five feet to an auto-boof flake. It´s easy to err to either side on this one, but the consequences are minimal. Here´s a sequence Mike took of me running the waterfall.

On our second lap, everyone had great runs. We came away warmed up and excited for the rest of the run. Below here, the run is class III boogey water until the bridge rapid, which can be seen/scouted from the road. This is one of the tougher drops on the run and can get rowdy, but is a total blast when done right!

Below the bridge are several more twisty bedrock rapids. Here´s Zak leading the charge on another IV+ drop.

And Mike on the same ledge, shot from below:

Along with a handful of tight, pushy rapids, the volcanic bedrock creates several boof ledges other than the waterfall. Here´s Joe on the biggest:

The entire run is roadside, so the take-out is wherever you want to make it. I believe the 8-foot ledge pictured above was the last rapid we ran before taking out above a log jam. Apparently there is one more great rapid below that portage, but further down is a huge drop that´s only been run a couple times. The Llancahue is a great day trip and is easy to run on the way to some of the other classics down south. Just upstream, Termas Ríncon offers great camping at the hot springs.

Access: From Pucon, drive on pavement through Villarica and Lican Ray to Conaripe. From there, follow signs to Termas Geometricas. After several (10?) kilometers, you´ll start driving along the river and eventually reach the turn-off for Termas Geometricas. Park your rig, hop the fence, and find your way down to the river there. Take out wherever you´d like. The full run is only about three kilometers, so the shuttle can easily be walked.

click here to check out more photos

Upper Elk Creek (Klamath Drainage): IV

2008-12-26T06:32:00.004-08:00

Sorry, there are no pictures yet for this write-up. It is strictly to provide some beta and rave about one of the most under-recognized creeks in Northern California. I first ran Elk Creek one day when nearby classic Clear Creek seemed a touch high. We took out just below the turnoff to the East Fork of Elk Creek and put in about a mile above Sulphur Springs campground by hiking up the trail on river-left. Then we learned we could have driven that far up. I was blown away by the quality of the run, with several miles of good gradient and mostly bedrock slides and ledges.

Recently, I went back in with a crew of five and we got the logistics dialed in. We put in even higher up and gained over a mile of fun class IV above the trailhead. The section above Sulphur Springs is characterized by long, low angle slides. It's slide after slide after slide. Some of them may have a fun boof somewhere in the middle, a blind corner, or perhaps a big hole at the bottom. Then there will be a good eddy to regroup above the next slide. It went on like this for miles!

Eventually, we came to a steeper, shorter slide on a sharp right turn and scouted. It was a clean drop with a good eddy at the bottom, but the next rapid was the most significant on the run and we all chose the easy portage along the bedrock shelf on the left. From there it was a short paddle down to the footbridge at Sulphur Springs where the character changed significantly.

Rapids on the lower section were shorter and several had significant ledge drops. Again, we boat-scouted our way down most of the run through quality class IV rapids. At the higher flow, there were several key class IV+ moves to avoid significant holes. About two miles below Sulphur Springs we came to a three-part rapid below a big slide and scouted with some creative clambering on the right bank. Other than the earlier portage above Sulphur Springs, this was the toughest rapid on the run verging on class V. It is somewhat complex and culmunates in a powerful 8-foot ledge, but it went just fine provided you were upright and paddling.

The last mile was back to class III boogey water until the take-out. Elk Creek is truly a gem of a run and I'm amazed it doesn't get more lip service for having so many clean, fun drops. This is a great place to get some training on creekboating.

Access:

From Hwy. 96 in Happy Camp, turn onto Elk Creek Road and cross the Klamath. After about 10-12 miles, there is a left turn for the East Fork of Elk Creek. Continue straight with the river on your left about 1/4 mile and keep your eyes peeled for a little double-track cutting off to the left. This public mining claim makes a great take-out.

To reach the put-in, continue upstream following signs for Sulphur Springs. Put in here if you don't want to deal with the portage or continue up the road another 1.5 miles to the trailhead. If you want to hike and add some miles (highly recommended with good water flows) you'll have to follow the trail to the creek, get in your boat, and ferry across to continue up the trail on creek-left. Hike as far as you have time for, it only seems to get better the further you go!

Flows:
Elk Creek has no gage, but is very close to Indian Creek into the Klamath. Any correlation is very approximate. On our first trip in January of 2010, Indian Creek was flowing about 1000 cfs. This put Clear Creek on the high side of good and we found Elk Creek to carry about 250-300 cfs at Sulphur Springs. This was a good flow, but my recommended minimum. The main rapids were fun, the in-between was bony, and it overall made for a class III-IV day.

The second trip was in late October of 2010 during the first rainstorm of the season. Indian Creek must have soaked more water into the soil, because it only came up to 700 cfs. Meanwhile, Elk Creek was actually much higher than the previous trip, and we estimate flows of 450-500 cfs at Sulphur Springs. This was a more preferable flow as it padded out all the gravel bars and shallow slides. However, it also made every pool a bit flushy, created some stomping holes, and gave the whole run more of a class IV+ feel with a few tougher drops.

The portage above Sulphur Springs just looked manky and nasty at the lower flows. At higher water, it was quite clean but the turbulence cauldron of a landing zone scared us all away. Next time Elk Creek, Next time.

Río Paucartambo/Mapacho

2008-12-16T07:24:00.000-08:00

While we were in Peru, our biggest mission by far was the 10-day class IV/V trip on the Mapacho, also known as the Paucartambo. I´ve been a marvelous slacker and have taken forever to get the posts up, but they´re all now available on the blog for viewing. Over the next few days/weeks, I´ll continue to add pictures, but that has proven to be a little time-consuming, so be patient. For now, those interested can at least read a little bit about what each day had in store for us.

Day 1
Day 2
Day 3
Day 4
Day 5
Day 6
Day 7
Day 8
Day 9
Day 10

Enjoy, and check back for more photos!

Lower Santa Teresa (III)

2008-12-09T08:47:00.000-08:00

After a disappointing morning on the Sacsara, we decided to take a look at the more voluminous Santa Teresa. We all decided against our initial aspirations of checking out the upper run, which is reputed to be a steep, multi-day classic. Instead we agreed on running the lower roadside section. Initially, our hired shuttle rig took us to the upper bridge at the end of the road in a town called Playa. Sadly, some recent road construction has dumped plenty of sharp rocks into the river creating steep rapids that needed much more water to be clean. So we opted to put in at the middle bridge about six kilometers upstream of town.

To say the least, the Lower Santa Teresa is fun! The water was the clearest we´d seen yet in Peru and the flow was enough to avoid destroying our boats. Much like the Sacsara, the Santa Teresa was very continuous and shallow, but unlike the Sacsara it was more channelized and every section had a clean line and plenty of boof practice.

The run down to the lower bridge was a fast 5 km that took us just over a half-hour to cruise down. Everything was easy read-and-run where we only eddied out to catch our breath. Zak and Kase got in the first lap on this run and when we all went back as a group, we decided to continue down to the confluence with the Urubamba. Below the last bridge, the Santa Teresa got a little more powerful and near the confluence the river is loaded with wrecked train cars and railroad tracks leftover from a flood that ripped through here in 1998. Moving carefully, we were able to safely avoid all the scrap metal and finish off the fun last rapid on the Santa Teresa.

The Santa Teresa enters the Urubamba in the run-out of a class V rapid. Below the confluence, however, the river slows to class IV+ and then to class IV. We chose to take out at the bridge a few hundred yards below the confluence, although if you´re up for the tougher rapids, it´s worthwhile to continue another mile and take out at the next bridge next to the hot springs. The hike to the road is much easier down there. Sorry folks, no pictures....

Río Sacsara: III/IV

2008-12-02T14:08:00.000-08:00

We made it to Santa Teresa near the downstream end of the popular Inca Trail trek to stay at Gian Marco´s place and check into some of the creeks in the area. The first was the Río Sacsara, a fairly clear tributary of the Santa Teresa.

From town we hired a ride up-river to the bridge a few kilometers above the confluence with the Río Santa Teresa and got geared up. The water looked low, but optimism prevailed. Or perhaps we just felt the obligation to paddle since we´d paid the shuttle. Either way, we scouted the first section and pushed off.

Mike in the first section below the bridge

The Sacsara is very continuous with plenty of eddies, but none big enough for our whole group. We took to a leap-frogging policy where anyone who eddied out had to wait for the back of the line. After examining the first section for a moment, I was able to find a line where I didn´t hit a single rock. As the day progressed, I wasn´t so lucky. The water was LOW.

Once past what we´d scouted, we were no longer hoping for clean lines, just cleaner lines. Then it was no longer a game of avoiding rocks, so much as bouncing off them at favorable angles.

Kase scraping through boulder gardens

By the end of the first kilometer, I was no longer kayaking, just linking together a series of frantic rudder-strokes to either avoid a straight-on piton, or keep my boat in the right channel. Occasionally I would briefly pin or wash ashore where the river spread out too shallow for my boat to float.

This low brace helped slow me down too, so I didn´t hit the next rock so hard!

Not far into the run the road came into view. I had no trouble hiking out. With the river running bony and a good road along side it, I actually made faster progress hiking than the other guys paddling. Occasionally the river would go out of sight and I´d hear some hoots and hollers, but it was later confirmed that the run never got better. When the rest of the guys reached our take-out at Gian Marco´s canopy, I was ahead of them with dry clothes and an open beer.

Our conclusion? Certainly not a classic. If you´re in the area, it´s probably well-worth doing at double the flow (we had about 200 cfs.) At even higher water, the river would be a really good time and considering the lack of gorges, it´s probably good to go at 1,000. Driving up the river, you get a plenty good idea of the character of the run. If the Sacsara looks too low, consider the lower Santa Teresa.

Upper Lucumayo River: IV+

2008-11-21T10:29:00.000-08:00

Zak on the Lucumayo

Following our Mapacho expedition, we had a long journey back to Cusco. The last leg of our journey was an afternoon bus from Quillabamba to the big city. The route took us further up the wide Urubamba River for an hour or so before the road splits off up a side canyon to go over a pass. Driving up this tributary, we were all pretty intrigued to see lots of continuous, apparently runnable whitewater. By the end of the week we did our research and returned to explore this section river: the Lucumayo.

Looking down on the continuous rapids

Our plan was to get on a bus headed downstream, wait until the boating and access both looked good, and have the driver stop. From the take-out we had further plans to travel to Santa Teresa for a week of clear water creeking. With no place to stash our gear, this meant we´d be paddling loaded boats yet again.

Mikey boofing away

We found the town of Incatambo to be a pretty ideal put-in. The river was about a quarter-mile hike from the road down a good trail and we found ample flow even in early November before the rains had started. The combination of a late start, a long drive, and gearing up slowly had us pushing off at about 3 p.m. It gets dark here just after 6, but we expected the run to be only two hours.

From the very beginning, the river moved fast and steep over boulder bars with few eddies. We were leap-frogging our way downstream through great class IV water with no opportunities to rest. Although the gradient seemed to be around 200 fpm, the canyon was fairly open with great visibility, and we could read-and-run everything, usually just following the helmet in front of you.

The first several kilometers went by extremely fast without any scouting. Occasionally we all stopped above a horizon line and let Kase probe away for us through the class IV+ drops. After an hour of making quick progress through great continuous rapids, we all regrouped to go over the beta we had.

Dave above another junky boulder garden

Nothing was written down. Someone remembered hearing about two bridges. Someone thought the river was supposed to present a couple class V rapids. We all knew there was a canyon below with unscoutable sections. Was it between the bridges? Just below the bridges? Class IV or V? How far did we think the take-out was again? How were we going to recognize it? Maybe I should have taken better notes.

As we pushed on down river, the Lucumayo retained its character. If anything, the channel got wider (shallower) and steeper. We started pinballing off rocks more and more often. Some of the drops certainly seemed on the verge of class V and our progress slowed. Kase was still eagerly probing, but the rest of us were hesitating above the big rapids more and more. We weren´t scouting anyway, so none of us could tell if the rapids were unscoutable. Eventually we ran one last steep class V- just before passing under a concrete bridge. Was this our take-out? If not, everyone seemed to be feeling done anyway. It was after 5 p.m., so right on par with our two-hour estimate. We all got out and passed out boats up to the ¨road.¨

Kase in some of the steeper stuff

Just then, a local kid came by on a motorcycle. He told us that we weren´t as far as we´d thought. From here it was a one-hour walk to town, and that was without carrying awkward 90-pound boats. Furthermore, we seemed to recall reports saying that below this bridge, things opened up again and it was a short distance to the take-out bridge. Our boats went back down the the river, and we went in them.

Mike in boogey water as darkness encroaches

The next kilometer was some of the best paddling of the day. Once we were all ready, we pushed off again and boogied through clean, continuous class IV rapids with plenty of fun moves and very little boat abuse. We eventually regrouped above another horizon line. Kase probed, then Dave disappeared. I couldn´t see either of them and the coming darkness didn´t help any. Mike and Zak got out to scout and relayed hand signals to me from shore.

Going off of beta, I cruised on down the right side of the rapid into the pool below. Then the rapid kept on going. And going. With poor visibility, I was making last-second strokes to avoid rocks and punch holes. The river was certainly not getting easier. Once in an eddy below the suprisingly big drop, I looked around with concern. The river had just channelized into a steep rapid with big boulders. I didn´t see any of the valley alluvium that had been typical of the last 8 km. It was getting dark, and the river seemed to be entering a gorge. The next rapid looked fine, but around the next corner was unscoutable.

Looking into the first rapid of the canyon

Once everyone was in the eddy, the discussion turned into an arguement about what to do next. We scoped out a meager beach on river left and determined that it would do as camp for the night. Good thing we had all our overnight gear. We scrambled around like five people cooking in a small kitchen for a while and eventually had two tents set up, a stove cooking, some candles rigged for light, and dry clothes. Sleep came easily.

Our über-spacious camp

The next morning we had one of our slowest starts yet. Several cups of coffee, a yoga session or two, dry out the tents, and plenty of solo missions into the surrounding jungle to fertilize the soil. Then began the discussions of hiking out. Mike´s shoulder was bothering him and Dave and Kase were tired of smasing their boats on rocks. Without our all-star probes I was unsure about the unscoutable/unportageable rapids below which left Zak to run it solo. The hillside across the river was exposed, but climbable and free of vegetation. Then somewhere up there was the road. It was a serious consideration until some rocks broke free from 200 feet up and trundled down to the river, ranging in size from limes to soccer balls. I guess that option´s out!

We finally got all our gear together and put on as a group of five. The first two rapids of the gorge were scoutable and we quickly got back in rhythm for the day. The third rapid had us in eddies out of view of eachother and after a confused barrage of whistle blasts, we were all smiling in a big eddy. Just below a creek came in on river right, the same side as the road. Talk of hiking out started again.

Kase, Zak and me as the group splits up

This time Mike and Dave decided to abandon the canyon for the road while Kase, Zak and I kept going to the planned take-out of Amaybamba. Dave gave us directions for the rapid below and our group of three disappeared around the corner.

Drifting through another canyon rapid

The gorge continued for a kilometer or so with several more open sections punctuating the unscoutable rapids. Once again, Kase probed everything and I read his hand signals more than the water. While the boxed-in nature was intimidating, the rapids were all class IV and the gorge was by far the most beautiful part of the run. The walls would often rise 50 feet out of the river and the banks would be connected by the jungle canopy overhead creating a shady tunnel for the river. I´m glad we weren´t running it in the dark.

Such a beautiful place!

Below the canyon, the river resumed its bouldery nature with plenty of scraping and crunching. We bumped our way down to where a road came to the river and called it a day. A bridge was right around the corner and serves as a good land mark for the take out, but requires a slightly longer hike. We chatted for a few minutes with locals who were shovelling gravel into a truck or something, but didn´t seem to want to give us a ride. So we shouldered our boats and began the long hike up to town.

When Peruvians put a road in a river canyon, they have a slightly different vision than American highway engineers. Nothing is truly roadside in Peru. Although the road does parallel the river, it was still several hundred meters above us. We were certainly taking our time and snacking on the way out, but it still took us over an hour to reach Amaybamba. The main thought keeping us moving slowly was that of Mike and Dave, who had chosen a route sure to be far more brutal and slow. When we finally reached town, the first stop was the lawn outside a store with plenty of beer. Suprisingly, we only had to wait an hour or so for the other two guys to return from ¨one of the most hateful things [they´d] ever done.¨ We waited far longer to get a ride to the next town.

Things ain´t so bad at the take-out. Drinking beer waiting for someone to do something.

For anyone thinking of running the Lucumayo, this is NOT the way to do it. It should be a day trip, not an overnight. You should paddle empty boats to endure much less rock bashing. The best place to base out of is probably Santa Maria, 15 km or so downstream where the Lucumayo enters the Urubamba. Alternately, you could base from Quillabamba where hostels, supplies, and transportation are more abundant, but it´s another hour down the road. The other logistic to try to work out is the take-out. It´ll be better with empty boats, but the hike still sucks. Try to find a car to pick you up.

Parting shot of local kids playing in the boats:

A thoroughly meaningless post:

2008-11-20T10:33:00.000-08:00

Hey anyone who actually wastes their time reading this junk: good job wasting time! I´m sorry I/we haven´t been facilitating your time-wasting escapades very well for the last couple weeks or month or however long it´s been since the last post. Although unfortunately, this post won´t really change that. Here I seek nothing more than to make excuses for myself. Just so you friends, family members, stalkers, and worried in-laws know, we are all still alive in Peru. And we´re having a hell of a time being alive in the meantime.

The lack of meaningful updates is a product of us being on rivers and in villages without internet, routine failures to actually upload the photos we´ve taken onto the web, and our general laziness. But here´s a summary of our time in Peru, which is nearing it´s end as we plan to cross the southern border into Chile next week.

As of today, we´ve been in the country for 46 days. In that time, we´ve spent 25 days on the water checking out nine different rivers including four multi-day expeditions. Now we´re on our way to another overnighter on the Cotahuasi, which is widely touted as the deepest canyon in the world. Hopefully we don´t have to hike out.

At any rate, get back to work. There are no pictures to look at here. Be patient and I´ll get some photos up of banana trees, ziplines, burros, overloaded minivans, and perhaps even some whitewater. Until then, stay warm, exercise, eat well, help a stranger, and have a spectacular Thanksgiving!

Río Paucartambo (Mapacho): V - Day 1

2008-10-31T14:45:00.004-07:00

by Zak Sears

Elevation at camp: 2740 meters

We launched on the river at 11:45 am with most of the town of Paucartambo watching us from the bridge. We estimated that we had a flow of somewhere between 500 and 800 cfs. The night before we put in, the river came up a little after a few hours of rain. We were on the water for a total of about 3 hours and covered close to 25 km. The river through this section consists of braided channels through a greater river bed of commonly sized small boulders. The water was a glacial grey color which we learned was due to road construction upstream, but the river apparently flows clear this time of year. Although the water temperature was pretty warm, the high altitude made for a chill in the air and we all decided to wear more gear than we had on for the next day.

On to day 2

Río Paucartambo (Mapacho): V - Day 2

2008-10-31T14:45:00.003-07:00

by Zak Sears
Back to day 1
Elevation at camp: 2508 meters

We passed under three bridges after an hour of paddling out of camp. The third one was a blue foot bridge that marked the start of more technical whitewater and steeper gradient. Fun class 3 and 4 for about an hour before the river melowed for a short bit. Here we stopped for lunch at a tributary on river right. A couple miles downstream of lunch, we came to a chunky class 4+ rapid that was steeper than anything we had seen yet. In this rapid I managed to lose my paddle. Kase and Dave chased it through the class 4 whitewater that lasted for about another half mile or so. Mike, Dan and I put together a breakdown and met up with the other boys who hadn´t found the paddle, so we decided to camp early and search the boulder gardens upstream in case it had been pinned. Never found the paddle.

on to day 3

Río Paucartambo (Mapacho): V - Day 3

2008-10-31T14:45:00.001-07:00

by Zak Sears
Back to day 2
Elevation at camp: 2240 meters

We had an early morning in anticipation of our arrival in Orange Canyon, a section we wanted a lot of daylight for after reading other write-ups about the river. The morning consisted of the same style of chunky class 3/4 whitewater for about 7 or 8 miles. At this point we entered a mini gorge with large round boulders where the nature of the whitewater started to change. A few kilometers after this we passed under Puente Chimor which crosses the river over a super-beautiful shear-walled gorge with calm water below. Shortly below this we came the the first class 5 rapid we had seen yet. It lay at a sharp left hand bend in the river and sent the river diving into another large shear-walled gorge. The whitewater held its gradient with great class 4+, 5- rapids for about an hour. We had lunch just above the portage we had heard was in Orange Canyon.

Massive orange boulders constrict the river into several small channels. The channel on the right was hard to see, but we could see it was a three meter drop we had heard about. It´s a tight line and goes but we opted to portage it with extremely heavy boats. The landing for the drop was tight and had a must-make move with a sieve on the left. Throughout the next 1 km or so, we had three mini-portages including the first one, all around steep manky drops that could have been run, but not the most quality whitewater on the run. The last portage was around a massive boulder in the middle of the river that was extremely undercut. During this portage we found a sweet camp on river left in a pocket of sand that lay in the depths of massive orange boulders. There was an unbelievable mini gorge of 2 meters width that was just above camp, and a fun looking class 5 drop just below camp for the morning. On the water for a total of 6 hours.

On to day 4

Río Mapacho: V - Day 4

2008-10-29T10:21:00.001-07:00

by Zak Sears
Back to day 3
Elevation at camp: 1930 meters

The rapid below camp we called Buenas Dias proved to be as fun as it looked, and the whitewater below as well. For about 2 hours we paddled great class 4/5 whitwater until we got to a gorge with a double drop at the top that we scouted from the wall on the right. Below the rapid a few hundred meters, the short lived gorge dissapears and a crumbly cement bridge barely stands above the river. The bridge looked like it was designed for vehicles, but only trails on either side leave it.

We had lunch a little ways beyond the bridge that included a bag of oranges the fisherman had given us. After lunch the whitewater included great read and run class 4/4+ for about an hour. Here we came to the most impressive rapid of the trip so far. A large pool above the drop is created by the huge boulders blocking the left side of the river. The water was mostly channelized in a slot on the right, next to a massive boulder on shore. We could see most of the drop from the top, and we were able run it without scouting. There was a three meter entry boof into a short pool then into the next ledge with a boof into an eddy on the right. Here we could see the third ledge which had a punchy hole at the bottom that we ran driving right. Below this rapid, the whitewater continued with super fun class 4/4+ for the next hour and a half.

The geological features of the river have changed drastically several times throughout the trip thus far, and the style of the rapids differ completely with each change.

By this point we had passed many small, clear flowing tributaries and a couple large drainages, but overall little volume has been added to the flow. On the water for five and a half hours.

On to day 5

Río Mapacho: V - Day 5

2008-10-29T10:19:00.001-07:00

by Zak Sears
Back to day 4
Elevation at camp: 1605 meters

Below camp we paddled open class 4 for 45 minutes until we came to a river-wide ledge of 2 meters. None of the lines looked really good, so we walked a short distance on the left, and put in just below. Downstream was more of the same open class 4/4+ for about two hours until we stopped for lunch at a huge drainage on river right carrying little water. Dave explored the bench above the river, and came back with a bag full of oranges and three huge avocados from the orchard of a farmer who was inviting us to stay the night and eat the sheep they were cleaning in the creek. The farmer said there was a road above the river about a 1 hour walk where the local people can meet a truck that comes twice a week with supplies, and carries out the agricultural products of the valley. In this section of the river, there are a lot of people living in small thatch roofed structures and cultivating the land, growing coffee, coca, yucca, bananas, and oranges. We passed under seven rickity foot bridges throughout the day, that linked together the vast networks of trails on either side of the river.

After lunch the whitewater backed of to mostly class 3+ with the occasional class 4 for the rest of the afternoon. We passed a couple tributaries that added a little more water to the river which gave the rapids a more pushy feel than the whitewater upstream.

This was the only afternoon of the whole trip that we struggled a bit to find camp. We finally found a great one on an upper bench on river right, in what we learned the next morning was a communal center that consisted of a soccer field, a tool shed, and a secadero (a patio-like structure with short walls around the perimeter that is used for drying coffee in the sun) on which we camped. The bugs were bad at this camp. On the water for six and a half hours.

On to day 6

Río Mapacho: V - Day 6

2008-10-29T10:17:00.003-07:00

by Zak Sears
back to day 5
Camp elevation: 1329 meters

We woke up just after sunrise to a woman and her two kids that welcomed us with fresh hot coffee, and warm manioch. They spoke little spanish and our attempts at using one liners from a Quechua dictionary were returned with smiles, and few words. Later in the morning as we let are dewy gear dry in the sun, kids walking to school came down to visit and told us about our camp being the communal center.

40 minutes downstream of camp we came to the 250 feet per mile stretch of the river we had read about. We scouted the first bit which consisted of very continuous class 5 for several hundred meters. It then turned into very continuous class 4, then class 3 for a total of 2 km of great whitewater. At this flow there was a sneak down the center of the of the river around the lower part of the class 5.

After this section, the whitewater mellowed out to class 3+ with the occasional class 4 until just above camp where we hit a mini gorge of class 4/4+ boulder gardens with one scout. Found a camp just below the gorge on river right. On the water for five and a half hours.

On to day 7

Río Mapacho: V - Day 7

2008-10-29T10:17:00.001-07:00

by Zak Sears
back to day 6
Elevation at camp : 1329

It was raining heavily when we woke, so we put our kayaking gear on in the tents and left camp by 7:45. We were expecting to get to a big portage and an unscoutable canyon and didnt like the possibility of increased flows with the rain. We passed under a foot bridge ten minutes outside of camp, then hit the portage ten minutes after that.

The rivers gradient picks up a lot, and the river is full of huge boulders and big drops. Some of the drops went, others didnt, and it was hard to link up what seemed to be a runnable line. We walked on the right side to the bottom of the rapid 300 meters down through huge boulders with several gaps we had to rope up, or pass boats. Half way through we decided to unload boats and carry a gear load rather than carrying 90 pound boats through the boulders. The whole portage took us 1:45 minutes.

From where we put in below the portage, we could see a deep gorge about 500 meters downstream. It was clear when we got there that it was the unscoutable section we had heard about, but we were able to get out on the left and scout. The right side looked tight and undercut, and the left sneak that we had also heard about had to little water to run the whole thing. Downstream looked busy with a few moves to make, but we could not see it that well and the canyon went out of view around the corner further downstream. We cought an eddy above the drop on the left, and walked our boats over some rocks in the channel for a few meters. We then ran the rest of the rapid, chipping away to the left in the main channel the whole way down. The whitewater slowed towards the bottom of the canyon until it became flat at a large tributary comming in the right. The gorge was unbelievebly beautiful as its walls started to become less and less verticle.

We had lunch on some rocks in the sun, relieved that the water had not come up before the gorge. After a half an hour of paddling, we came to a tributary on the right that bumped the flow up by 100-200 cfs. We estimated that we were floating on about 2000-2500 cfs below the trib.

The extra water made the next hour of class 3+/4 whitewater take on more of a big water feel.

On to day 8

Río Mapacho: V - Day 8

2008-10-29T10:16:00.001-07:00

by Zak Sears
back to day 7
Elevation at camp: 847 meters

It was way hotter than it had been the whole trip when the sun hit us early in the morning. The air blowing up from downstream seemed to bring some humidity, and we all felt that we were nearing the thicker jungle the locals told us was downstream.

An hour after being on the water, we came to a large drainage on the right side of the river, and a sharp horizon line with exploding whitewater below. We scouted from the right, the most significant whitewater we had seen on the whole trip. The left side was a steep big water line with stacked powerful holes and waves that continued downstream for 500 meters. The rapid was long and solid class 5 for most of it. The tail end was fast big water class 3/4 for a few hundred meters. There was also a class 4- sneak up top in the rapid on the right.

An hour after the steep section, the whitewater started to pick up with loads of really fun class 3/4 rapids full of large waves and holes.

This lasted until we got to the small town of San Martin where we ended up camping after eddying out in the local pub. They envited us to sleep on the floor of the bar and told us it was going to rain. We already had camp set up across the river, so we took the beer and toilet paper be bought and paddled across the river. It rained hard all night long. On the water for five and a half hours.

On to day 9

Río Mapacho: V - Day 9

2008-10-29T10:02:00.001-07:00

by Zak Sears
back to day 8
Elevation at camp: 684 meters

The river had come up a lot from the rain, and was flowing muddy with lots of driftwood comming down. When we started on the water, we estimated we were on about 3000 cfs. Shortly after camp we came to a section of lots of class 3/4 whitewater before a stretch about 5-7 km of calm swiftwater. After this, the river started to pick up more gradient that created super fun class 3+/4 whitewater for about 8 km.

We stoped at the bridge at the bottom of this continuous stretch, and found a small medical clinic for people in the area. They asked if we needed medicine which was perfect because Dan had been feeling sick for the past few days. They gave him some drugs for a total of 5o cents that made him feel better by the following morning. A few members of the group had also been sick in Cusco before the trip, so in anticipation of the sickness spreading through everyone we stocked up on Diaren, a non-perscription medication used to fight stomoch bacteria.

The whitewater stayed the same with continuous big water until the next bridge called puente penetracion, where a road runs close to the river and is a possible take out. We stopped here looking for a few supplies, and returned to the boats again with more goods from the locals. Some guys we ran into gave us a huge pinnapple, a bag full of oranges, and bananas. We had a lot of chocolate so we made some postre by putting the chocolate inside a sliced banana and roasting them on the fire with a little rum on top.

On to day 10

Río Mapacho: V - Day 10

2008-10-29T10:00:00.000-07:00

by Zak Sears
back to day 9
Elevation at take out: 644 meters

As the river nears its mouth, it flows swiftly with little whitewater through the ever-thickining jungle. We started to see rafts tied up on shore made of small diameter tree trunks lashed together with a little rocker in the bow, and a straight board used for a paddle. Then as we got closer to the confluence, we started to see open boats that looked like a long, skinny dory of about 4 meters in length.

It took us about 4 hours to reach the confluence with the Urabamba coming in from the south on river left. It is very large at this point and is flowing quickly with muddy water. The jungle overhangs the river on its shores, and the air is hot and humid. We paddled across the huge river to a beach where we waited for a motor boat to pass us heading upstream. After and hour and a half, an 18 meter long open boat came motoring up the rapid in front of us. We flagged them down, and we loaded our five kayaks in the huge boat with ease. The ride upstream was incredible. The boat would twist as half of it would enter the powerful current, and the other half was still in a boiling eddy, and the tops of the gunwales would dip within inches of the water. All the kayakers on the boat were nervous and the only ones wearing life jackets, while the boat captain looked like he could fall asleep with boredom.

We arrived in a town called Ivochote, where we found a hostel a short walk from where the boat was tied up. This is a small town but they have plenty of cold beer, and good food.

Urubamba River, 67-82: IV (P)

2008-10-17T09:50:00.000-07:00

Water and ice in the Urubamba valley

After booking the flight to Peru with kayaking in mind, I learned the country has other attractions. Apparently what lures most travellers isn´t the epic potential for multi-day boating, but the ruins of the ancient Incan race. This ¨Macho Picture¨or ¨Mucho Pisco¨or whatever it´s called is the country´s iconic attraction. God only knows how many photos have been taken of the place, but I´ve seen at least three so far. Anyway, near the famous mountaintop city are countless other terraced ruins along the Incan Trail connecting Macchu Picchu to the Sacred Valley. The Sacred Valley is an oasis of flat, fertile agriculturical land at 9,000 feet surrouned by glacier-topped Andean peaks. And through this beautiful valley flows the Urubamba River.

Dave, Zak, and some mighty large mountains across the Sacred Valley

A train now follows the Urubamba canyon all the way from the Sacred Valley to Santa Teresa, carrying tourists to Aguas Calientes along the way where they have a shorter walk to Macchu Picchu. Boaters refer to different sections of river by the kilometer markers of the railroad. We got some beta from our kayaker friend Juanito that the section through the valley to km 70 is the commercial class III section. From 70 to 78 is mostly flat, 78 to 82 is good fun, 82 to 88 is full-on class V, and below 88 is mostly un-run crazy class V+/VI. The owner of our hostel thought it was probably mellow class III that we could run all the way to Macchu Picchu and we should just paddle there, but we decided the kayaker was probably more reliable.

The railroad makes scouting and portaging much easier

For this excursion, we found the town of Ollantaytambo to suit our needs quite well. It´s a low-key tourist town near the mouth of the valley with plenty of cheap hostals, restaurants, and river access. So without further adue, we hoofed our boats through town and put in at km 67. Not hiring a taxi to drive us downstream further meant we actually had to get some exercise, since the first 11 km were flatwater with a couple class II or III rapids.

Zak carrying his boat through the alleyways of Ollantaytambo

Dave in one of the earlier rapids

After the warm-up, we rounded a corner and got into some continuous boulder gardens. We boat-scouted for about a kilometer before the gradient warranted a scout. What we saw dropped our spirits pretty quickly. The river suddenly took on a gradient around 400 fpm for as far as we could see. Eddies were scarce and nothing looked particularly enticing. Some of the moves in this section looked extremely challenging, but it was all runnable. Just not for us, not today.

This is my camera not doing justice to the steepness of the class V+ mess we portaged

A sign marking km 79 assured us that we hadn´t missed our take-out, so we walked down the train tracks to see what was downstream. Ultimately, we decided on a half-mile portage, which was greatly facilitated by the tracks. With a rope and a little teamwork, we were back on the water again and feeling good.

Zak back on the water

The next couple of kilometers offered clean, continuous class III/IV rapids with the occasional scout. There really isn´t much to say about this section. It´s runnable. We ran it. It was exactly what we expected from talking to Juanito: good, fun rapids. After a couple kilometers, we came within view of Puente Verde, the takeout bridge. Dave broke his paddle two rapids above the bridge, so we took out at the first trail up to the town.

Long, fun boulder gardens typified this run

Puente Verde is the beginning of the Inca Trail trek, so we saw hoards of porters and tourists working their way through the checkpoint. Km 82 is also the very end of the road. From here, we were able to get rides on the local collectivos (minivan taxis) back to Ollantaytambo for just over a buck with boats, so arranging a shuttle ahead of time is unnecessary. Below here, boaters have to hike their boats back up to km 82 to get a ride. Fortunately, the railroad is still there and make the hike back out fairly easy. Just watch for trains.

The looking downstream into the steep Urubamba canyon

More info on this lower stretch can be found at http://www.peruwhitewater.com/.

Black Canyon of the Apurímac: IV+

2008-10-13T08:47:00.000-07:00

After a great three days on the three day commercial section, we sought to explore some upper reaches of the Rio Apurímac. Our friend Dave had just arrived in Cusco with his gear and was eager to paddle, but Zak was getting sick, so our group was still at three. We received lots of conflicting local beta about the Black Canyon run, the most reliable source describing it as 5 km of stacked up full-on class V that was a good day trip. Upon learning that the last group of solid paddlers took 7 hours to do the run, we hired our taxi driver Lucio for the whole day and left town early. I was nervous.

Then I wasn´t sure if I should take it as a bad omen when we pulled over half and hour into the drive and my boat wasn´t on the roof of the car anymore.

Car minus one boat

For a few tense minutes, I was worried my kayaking vacation in Peru was already over, but shortly thereafter a van came up the road with my boat on top.

Eventually, we climbed over the pass, passed the town of Pacarritambo, and got a view into the canyon. For the next hour and a half, we slowly switchbacked down the dirt road to the put-in and Puente Tinco.

Our first view into the Black Canyon: lots of white down there!

The first mile of our run was flat with occasional class II rapids and we quickly realized that the flow here was much less than we had days earlier on the section downstream. We guessed the flow at 800 cfs. In the flat section we passed a small village with no road access where the locals were very intrigued to see us. One elder explained that their village was very poor and out of fishing lures and asked if we could help, but I´d left all my tackle at home for the day. They wished us well and we continued around the corner to the beginning of the gorge.

The first few rapids we came to were mellow boulder gardens with lots of options that we could easily boat scout, but then we got into mazes of boulders with terrible visibility and we got out to have a look. We saw a long series of drops going around the corner. There were lots of boofs in the three to five foot range with good recovery pools below. We chose the slots that looked the best and got back in our boats.

Dave boofing away

That turned into the pace for the next kilometer. We made very slow progress by scouting everything and mostly running together. Once we first scouted, almost nothing was boat scoutable. With more water, more of the channels would go. But at our low flow, there was lots of piton and pin potential. Fortunately, the water was moving slowly enough that we had plenty of time and eddies.

Mike finding his way through the sievey boulder gardens

Boof was definately the word/hand signal of the day. Every rapid had something small and vertical to fall off of. With the 20-30 boofable drops and low consequences, this run turned into some of the best boof practice I´ve ever had.

After the first kilometer of steep stuff, the gradient mellowed out and the river channelized more, so we started boat scouting again.

Towards the end of the run, we came to a fast twisty channel with a great launch pad at the bottom. Several children from the local village of Nayhua had come out to watch the crazy gringos run the cascades.

Dave shutter ruddering in the limelight

We boat scouted the final rapid with more good clean fun and an enthusiastic audience and then hiked up to the car.

Mike and Dave walking through the adobe alleyways

A day later, several of the rapids still stand out in memory. But if I were to go back, there would still be lots of scouting. All the seived-out boulder gardens with fun boofs just blend together.

Overall, we agreed that this was not a class V run. There were occasional class V consequences, but all the moves were class III/IV. It took us almost 6 hours to complete the run with lots of scouting, some videography, and no lunch break. We probably could have run it in four hours if we felt pressed for time. We also ran it in mid-October when the river was at its lowest point. With twice the flow, it would probably have the same difficulty. Above 1500 cfs, I can easily imagine this section being legitimate class V.

El Rió Apurímac: IV

2008-10-10T14:11:00.000-07:00

After two days aclimating to the thin air in Cusco at 11,000 feet, we managed to connect with Santiago at Mayuc Expeditions and tag along on a three day commercial trip on the Apurimac. This turned out to be the perfect way to kick off our trip. Mike, Zak and I still packed all our gear into creekboats, but the Mayuc crew shared food with us and showed us the lines through most of the rapids.

Mike, Zak, and the biggest pothole I´ve ever seen

To get there, we hired a local taxi for a mere $60 to drive us four hours to the put-in, most of which was on a poor dirt road switchbacking up and over a 15,000 foot pass and then decending down into the canyon. Glad we decided against taking a local bus, we hung out with roosters and a drunk Quechan local waiting for the rafters to get everything rigged up and ready.

Famous for being the highest source of the Amazon, the Apurimac flows through a canyon over two miles deep that Zak described well as resembling the Yuba canyon in California with Hells Canyon in Idaho stacked on top of it. The canyon was mostly arid mountainsides with a dramatic inner gorge of diorite and some fantastic whitewater.

On day one, we got a fairly late start and only made a couple miles through class III rapids until camping on a beautiful beach under enormous boulders. The next day, we woke up to some fun, easy boulder gardens that led to the first raft portage. From what we could see, the river poured over four successive drops with the third looking retentive and the fourth pushing into an undercut boulder. Below, the river disappeared into another blind boulder garden.

Mike in the run-out

Mike offered to film (watch our runs) and got to see me have a rough run, flipping above the fourth drop and rolling up uncomfortably close to the undercut. I quickly caught an eddy and picked my way through the rest of the rapid without incident.

Lots of boulder gardens to explore

The rafts portaged the next rapid as well, which we were able to pick our way through catching eddies and running fun channels through amazing boulder gardens. This was turning into a pretty fun river! Long granite boulder gardens continued for miles as we got used to paddling our fully loaded boats.

Mike and Zak in a smaller rapid

Eventually, we made it down to a picturesque rapid called ¨Purgatory.¨ Zak got a couple cartwheels, but otherwise we all had fun runs down a fast channel. At the bottom, the river constricted through a slot narrower than a slalom gate and rafts had to be lifted on edge to slide them through.

Mike and Zak at Purgatory. You can see the narrow crack in the background.

Afterward, the canyon opened up again with a couple more rapids. We paddled under this swinging footbridge shortly before making our way to camp for the night.

The water quality reminded me of the Klamath

The following morning, we were on the water early and made our way down to the biggest rapid on the run: Toothache. Toothache is a great class V rapid with a long lead-in to a steep section that drops 20 feet or so with some big hydraulics. Unfortunately, we were too focused on the rapid to bother with media and I only got one picture.

The crux drop of Toothache. Above here is a long boulder garden and below are several more powerful holes

The next rapid called ¨You First¨ was just as fun with a fast chute under an overhanging boulder. Again, no pictures. Below here the canyon opens up again and we were treated to two more fun, steep class IV drops before a couple miles of class III to the take out. We dried our gear in the sun while sitting in the shade of banana trees drinking beer until we got back in our taxi and headed home to Cusco.

White Salmon, Green Truss: V (takes 2 and 3)

2008-10-03T17:05:00.000-07:00

Peru 2008: Days -3,-4

It sure is funny (dumb) how my logic works sometimes. Last time I ran "The Truss" in March I considered it the hardest run I'd done after having a severe beatdown/swim in the first big drop, getting cold, and portaging or getting worked in every other serious drop on the run. I then kayaked about 40 days in the next month and a half, feeling much more confident once June came around. By then, the Truss was far too high and I was busy with summer work anyway, so I took a three-month hiatus from kayaking and decided to come right off the couch and give another shot at the run that had so kicked my ass earlier this year.

I figured that with rowing all season I must still be in good shape, so I readily signed up for back-to-back trips on the Truss last week while in the Portland area. At 1.5 feet on the gauge, we had significantly lower water, which made the big drops easier, but the in-between stuff much more technical. Or maybe I'm just weak after this summer......

It was sweet redemption to finally have fun on this run, and a great wake-up call that my paddling skills have declined a bit in the past months. Spending a couple days on familiar class IV/V was exactly what I needed before my upcoming trip to Peru. I'm now super sore, but at least that didn't happen after I committed to a 12-day self-support trip.....

Lower North Fork Cal-Salmon: IV+

2008-05-20T13:38:00.000-07:00

Yet another classic run in California's Salmon river system is the Lower North Fork. The North Fork is a smaller watershed than the South Fork and thereby only goes when most of the other runs are too high. The upper section above Sawyer's Bar is reputed to be a great class III+ play run and is almost never too high. Downstream of the confluence with the Little North Fork, the gradient steepens and the river tumbles through some truly impressive granite boulder gardens.Brian McQueen trying to see what lies ahead

The first time I checked into this run was in the company of Chris Ingram and Jud Lehman. Chris hadn't seen this section either, but Jud knows the lines as well as anyone. We had a huge group at the Salmon that weekend and elected to disperse amongst four different runs. This led to an absurd mess of shuttle logistics and we ultimately arranged for someone to pick us up at our take-out and we got out of camp at the crack of noon.

Once on the water, we had a mile or so of wide, shallow cobble bars to grind over before reaching our first rapid. This wasn't so much a horizon line as a wall of boulders with a few slots hidden throughout the jumble. Jud gave us some concise beta and disappeared into the maze. Chris and I eddy hopped along behind him and once past the initial drop, we could see the rapid continuing for over a hundred yards around and over more beautifully rounded granite.

Jud leads Chris through the right channel

This seemed to be the character of the run: long boulder gardens extending beyond vision but open to a variety of routes. Another three or four rapids ranked in the IV+ range and the in-between stuff was filled with fun class III+ read and run. After a couple miles of continuous action, we pulled over for a scout and the only horizon line of the day.Peter Gandesberry dropping into the big one

Darin McQuoid melts through the sneak line

This is a beautiful rapid as the river tumbles steeply over some big boulders and has a few nasty spots, but the sneak line down the right was very straightforward with no moves to worry about. Below here we cruised through another mile of thinning class III to our take out. Overall, the run took us about one hour and 20 minutes with a small group and stopping only once for a scout. We beat all the other groups by a long shot and loitered about the take-out for another hour waiting for crews to finish up with the Methodist Creek run.

Chris Ingram at the top of another long boulder garden

I ran the lower NF again a couple weeks later with Peter Gandesberry, Brain McQueen, and Darin McQuoid and I imagine the more you do this run the less continuous it feels because there are really only a handful of good rapids. But your first time down, prepare to be kept busy by miles of stacked up boulder gardens.

Flows: These pictures were taken when the Salmon gauge was around 5.5 feet and the NF estimate on Dreamflows read about 900 cfs. I would say this is the low end of good, though boner-boaters would probably have fun even lower. The river channel is pretty wide, so I'm sure it could handle a lot more water.

Access: This is probably the best reason to bring someone who knows the run. The put-in and take-out are both at poorly marked fire engine fill sites. You can put it at the mouth of the Little North Fork or cut off some flat water by going downstream about 1/2 mile to the engine fill site. The take-out is about four miles downstream just past a developed mining camp. Some people continue on to Forks of Salmon but all it adds is five miles of class II and a manky class V/portage.

Upper Klamath: IV

2008-04-08T16:09:00.000-07:00

Jesse getting set for another day in the office

The Upper K is one of our standby fall runs in Califoregon. It features dependable flows year-round from J.C. Boyle Powerhouse and excellent class IV big water. Commercial outfits run trips through this canyon daily throughout the summer. I generally only bother with this run in September and October when there are no other options. In the spring, however, the dam often releases extra water, making this a very worthwhile pursuit.

Darin McQuoid surrounded by the UK's typical splashy brownwater

Access is the biggest crux of this run. Commercial trips run their shuttle on paved highways the entire way, but have to hire a driver as it requires a three-hour drive each way. Boaters often reach the take-out before their shuttle rigs here. Private groups usually use the Topsy Grade route, which is only about 7 miles of the roughest road I've ever driven. 4wd trucks regularly get stuck in the mud-holes here and good clearance is absolutely mandatory.

Darin firing up his motorcycle, which is probably the fastest shuttle rig

Putting in at the powerhouse where commercial groups launch affords paddlers about five miles of warm-up with a handful of class II and one or two class III rapids. The river eventually winds down to Frain Ranch, where the Topsy Grade route reaches the river level. A half-mile downstream, the river constricts and drops out of sight into Caldera, a long, fast, powerful class IV+ rapid full of big waves. The first hundred feet of this rapid present the biggest challenge, with a couple big holes to avoid. Scouting the lower three quarters of the rapid is difficult and unnecessary. There are micro-eddies throughout the rapid that kayakers can catch if you're on your game, but it's much more fun to just bomb through the whole thing.

Caldera from the bottom at 2700 cfs

Below Caldera is a fun set of class III rapids that lead up to another horizon line: Satan's Gate. Here the river drops around a corner through another long rapid. The best line is right of center at the top, then read-and-run the rest of the way down through big waves. The short pool below is punctuated by the longest rapid: Hell's Corner.

Hell's Corner is almost twice as long as Caldera but less steep. The entrance deserves a scout if no one in the group knows the run. After the beginning, work to the middle as the river bends to the left and get back right around the short right bend. The river will then take a sharp left turn and go over the last part of the rapid known as Dragon's Tooth. Go left here or take the right boof over the tooth.

Langdon Adams dwarfed by Hells Corner about 2/3 through

The river eases up a bit below Hell's Corner, but the action is far from over. Several more rapids including Wells Fargo, Ambush, Snag Island, and Stateline Falls are peppered throughout the next several miles.

Rafts below Snag Island Left, the junkiest line on the river.

Below Stateline Falls is the take out on the left, where paddlers are reminded that there's still this whole shuttle thing to take care of. On my last trip down at high water, Darin had the shuttle totally figured out with an old motorcycle he had just bought. The shuttle goes much faster by motorcycle than by truck and mountain bikes move almost as quickly over the rocky, rutted terrain. If the shuttle road were improved, laps would certainly be in order for this run.

Jessie Coombs surfing towards the end of the run

NF Molalla, III/IV

2008-04-08T13:58:00.000-07:00

"Dan, I just discovered an incredible gem close to my house. It's 3 miles of 200 fpm clean class IV/IV+. It runs suprisingly often too and almost never gets run. I guarantee this is the first you've heard of it."

The e-mail from Ryan Morgan definitely intrigued me. I was already on my way through the Portland area and a paddling detour sounded like fun.

"Of course there's a downside..." Strangely enough, this was the deal-maker for me: the four-mile uphill hike in. Ever since I got the backpack system for carrying my kayak, I've been dying to use it. So one Thursday morning, I got up early and rallied up to meet Ryan and follow him to the take-out.

I was in the process of moving a load of furniture and treasured junk to my parent's house, so my car made a very stylish, yet impractical shuttle rig.
We ran a short shuttle to the trailhead, rigged up our pack systems, and started walking. My system worked amazingly well after I made a few adjustments on the trail. Ryan had a lower-profile homemade system that also got the job done, although he was in a little pain by the time we reached the put-in.
The run started out with tight, shallow boulder gardens with a fair share of mank throughout. After a few hundred yards, we arrived at a horizon line. This was the first portage that would certainly go at higher water, but the channel spread out too much for us to safely scrape down. The portage was very quick and painless and we were back to bouncing through rocks again before we knew it.
The first half-mile was a little junky with two such portages but would clean up nicely with more water. Eventually we reached the slides section of the run which started off with a portage around a slide into an undercut. After that one, we didn't have to get out of our boats again for the rest of the run. The gradient continued with countless fast slides and a handful of fun ledges and boulder gardens.
After about three miles of the good stuff, the gradient tapered off to the 100 fpm range, which was pretty low considering our volume of just a couple hundred cfs. We boogied down through a long class II/III paddle-out to the take out where Ryan's car awaited.
At our flows, we took a little over two hours to complete the run with no scouting and only a couple portages. At higher flows, Ryan took the same time with lots of scouting. At high water, the run could possibly be completed in under an hour. The hike in is certainly the most difficult part of it all.

The big downside to this run is access (duh). Right now the run requires a four-mile hike in and special permission from land owners, which Ryan was able to coordinate for us. Right now WKCC is working on getting permission to cross property and possibly even open the gate during the paddling season. If we can get this worked out, this will quickly become a very popular run. The road is in great shape and continues up the river for another five miles, all of which is runnable whitewater. Do whatever you can to support the opening of this run, and please be respectful of landowners.

Upper South Fork Gorge, Smith River, CA: IV+/V

2008-03-25T12:52:00.000-07:00

Getting buried in the Upper SF Gorge

This run is typically referred to as the best run in the Smith drainage, and with good reason. The gorge itself is fairly short, but still has more rapids than the the other main gorges. It may even have more good class IV rapids than the North Fork. Considering how rarely I hear of people running this section, I was amazed to see how large the flow window was. I would estimate our flow to be 1300 to cfs at the put-in and the gauge read 5800 at Crescent City. I thought it was a pretty reasonable first-time flow but wouldn't want to go much higher. I think lower flows would be fine on this gorge.

Peter on the hike in

The run starts with a one-mile hike in that is all downhill and goes by quickly. Once on the water, we had about a half-mile of class II/III boogey water with a couple good class IV drops we boat-scouted. Then we arrived at The Island.

Peter paddling hard somewhere on the Upper South Fork

The Island is a long class V boulder garden with two channels. Most of the water goes left over some tall ledges separated by pools. The right channel is more continuous but appears easier. Either way you go, the best way to scout is to pull over on the island itself and choose your channel and your route. After the channels converge, the river drops over a 12-foot junky ledge with lots of options. The cleanest routes are all on the left.

The junky ledge below the Island

Below The Island are a couple class IV rapids that were fairly easy down the left, followed by sharp 5-foot ledge with a fantastic boof over a meaty hole. The boulder-gardens continue for a few rapids leading up to the last big one. This last rapid is a powerful channel down the undercut left wall with a series of big holes to punch. In the spring of '08, there was a log on the bottom left, but was easy to avoid.

Below this last rapid is the three-mile paddle-out that moves along pretty swiftly through occasional class II and III rapids. Wood was more of an issue down here than in the gorge, so keep your head up.

Peter at the exit of the gorge

Access:
To reach the take-out, turn off Hwy. 199 on to the South Fork Road. Follow the road about 12 miles until you reach the fourth bridge over the South Fork called the Stevens Memorial Bridge. Be careful with maps because the gazeteer omits two road bridges near Rock Creek. Drop a bike or shuttle car at the turn-out at the upstream end of Stevens Bridge. This is also the put-in for the main South Fork run, which sucks by the way.

Peter scrambling down to the river.

To reach the put-in, continue up the road and turn right after 1/2 mile, crossing the next bridge. There should be a sign saying no winter travel and indicating mileages to Kelsey Creek, Red Mountain, and Orleans. After about 2.5 miles of climbing on pavement, turn left onto road 15N39. Follow it down to the Kelsey Creek Trailhead. From the trailhead, hike about a mile downhill until the trail forks at a switchback. Follow the upstream trail and start looking for a good spot to descend to the river. Watch out for poison oak and poor footing.

Upper East Fork Lewis (WA): III+ (V)

2008-03-18T08:42:00.000-07:00

With a bunch of rain in the Lewis drainage, we were skunked on Canyon Creek and even Copper Creek was suspected to be too high. We came up with an alternate plan of running the upper East Fork of the Lewis River. The Waterfall run is extremely well-known as a classic class IV creeking run with two big yet friendly waterfalls. We continued up the road past the normal put-in for about four miles before hitting snow and decided to make that our put-in. We put in just below a river-wide strainer and that set the pace for the next few miles.

The creek kept a continuous gradient somewhere around 120 fpm. The flow spreads out a lot and we didn't have much water anyway, so hydraulics were not an issue. Wood was. Everything below our put-in was navigable, but we had to boof over one log hazard and I ended up getting out of my boat briefly to portage one log. Everyone else made it around, but I took a different channel that dead ended into a strainer.

After a couple miles of continuous manky boulder gardens with wood, we rounded the corner above Tombstone. Tombstone is a nasty class V where all the water goes over a six-foot drop and powers into a rock. There is a very thin line to get left of the rock, but none of us elected to take it that day. Tombstone is preceeded by a funky class IV+ ledge that just didn't look to be worth the risk of getting swept over Tombstone. We all portaged the entire section on the right. The portage isn't very dangerous, but certainly annoying.

Below Tombstone, the river cleans up considerably, but the gradient drops off. We all cruised down a mile of class II boogey water dotted with a few class III+ ledges. I quickly got a little lazy and got woken up by one of the steeper drops of the run. I got a little close to the paddler in front of me as we came up to a five-foot ledge. As I dropped in, I noticed he was getting pulled back into the hole at the bottom. I quickly went for plan B and paddled hard, but my Huka is hole bait and I was drawn back in. I bucked around for a second and braced hard downstream, but then the ride calmed down quite a bit. I took a few deep breaths and relaxed a little while surfing as my friends cheered me on from the eddy below. It was a fairly tame hole ride, but I still couldn't get out of it. I tried surfing to the left, then the right, then left again, but nothing was working. Eventually I turned by boat downstream, gave it a big backstroke to push my stern into the green water, and got launched downstream and upside-down with a big ender. I dug deep to reach some green water, flushed out, and rolled up.

After a few more similar ledges, we came to the horizon line at Sunset Falls. At this flow, the middle line looked particularly good and we all fired it off one by one. On my first run I boofed a little too early, but still landed upright. I just had to do that again, so I hiked up the little trail on river right for a second lap. The second time around, I blew my entrance and got shoved left. I went around the boof flake and into a deep seam. I pencilled in without tucking and went deep. My paddle blades caught a lot of water and ripped the blade out of my left hand, straining my shoulder in the process. I drifted around upside down in the pool for several seconds before I got my bearings, found my paddle again, and rolled up.

There are a couple different options for a take-out on this run. The best one is probably to finish at Sunset and hike to the road. We got permission from Mike Olson to take out at his place just downstream on the left, and we had a fantastic host while we changed into dry clothes in his shop. Just above his house we ran Sky Pilot, which was in my mind the most fun and challenging rapid of the trip.

Flows: when we launched, the EF Lewis Gauge was reading 2000 cfs at Heisson. This was juicy for the waterfall run, but pretty low for the upper section. If I were to do this section again, I would drive up the road until it starts looking thin and just put in where ever access looked good. The section below Tombstone contained the best rapids and clean drops on the run.

Overall, the difficulty wasn't more than class III most of the time. We could always see the bottom of rapids and boat scouted everything. The consequences are definitely class IV however, with lots of wood in the upper reaches and a narrow window to eddy out before the portage at Tombstone. This is a good fall back run if the water is too high on the surrounding runs, but I would only put in above Tombstone again at higher water.

Illinois River Trip Report: 2-22 to 2-24-08

2008-02-25T11:03:00.000-08:00

Photo by Ryan Morgan

Here's a little eye candy from our last Illinois trip. We had a little excitement, but no major swims or other carnage. Keep your eye open for an article about the trip in the Outdoor section of the Medford Mail Tribune.

Pitcher Plant colonies along the bank in the lower canyon

Pete Wallstrom dropping into York Creek behind Scott Photo by Alan Douglass

The one class IV between Pine Flat and Prelude Photo by Ryan Morgan

Will Making the move at Clear Creek Photo by Alan Douglass

Scotty "Too Hotty" going big at Pine Flat. Put those oars in the water, man! Photo by Alan Douglass

Will rowing the Media Boat through York Creek Photo by Alan Douglass

Scott Rion and crew getting told not to mess with the bitches at "Pimp Slap"

Everyone trying to get a peek of the maelstrom at Green Wall

Our water level was right around 1500 cfs at Kerby. This is a nice optimal flow for most of the river. We mostly had endless class II, quite a bit of class III, and about 7 class IV rapids. Green Wall, however, was an outright menace. At lower flows, the main ledge hole loses its bite while at higher water the sneak on the left opens up. At this flow, rafts absolutely had to run the hole. The bottom drop also packed more of a punch than I've ever seen before. Carnage was inevitable. First up, Scotty Rion!
Scott got a little sideways and started to surf in the hole.

If I were responsible, I'd have put the camera away and gone to my kayak to help with safety at this point, but there were already several others downstream. Shortly after this photo, Leland got sucked out and flushed out of the boat.
Miraculously, he was able to grab on and keep from getting swept downstream. Then the boat spun again and he was in the gut of the hole, getting pummeled. Can you spot the swimmer in this photo?This was more than a minute after the raft started surfing. Just after this, the boat finally flushed out with everyone back in the boat!

After this, Ryan and Alan decided they should paddle down and set kayak safety below. Again, I was irresponsible and hung out to take pictures. Alan and Ryan both flipped in the bottom hole with their big boats, which was a little unnerving for me.

Pete came down and had a clean line through the upper drop, but ran the bottom hole sideways with a big high-side. Scotty "Too Hotty" Fine fired it up next and had the cleanest line of all. This was the closest to carnage he ever came: Photo by Alan Douglass
I was next with the smallest boat designed for surfing waves, not bombing down class V. Alan and Ryan kept thinking: "And Dan playboats this $h!+?" Photo by Alan Douglass

I did fine with the kayak sneak around the top hole, although I had a little trouble with the ferry back right. I came barreling down moving left to avoid the monstrous hole at the bottom. All was in vain: the laterals guarding it surfed me right back into the middle.

Dropping into a hole much bigger than me. Photo by Ryan Morgan

I got stopped immediately. And yes, I am in this frame. Photo by Ryan Morgan

Still in the hole. Keep in mind that this camera could only take one picture every several seconds. After an exciting rodeo session, I finally flushed out..... Photo by Ryan MorganOnly to get pushed into the undercut wall on at the bottom, flipping again. What a ride!
Photo by Ryan Morgan

Will came down last and gave us a little finale. They got sideways dropping in, but Will called a nice, early high-side command. Photo by Ryan Morgan
One of Will's oars popped out, so all he could do was high-side. Photo by Ryan Morgan
Thinking his oar was gone downstream, Will went for his spare and slipped it in so he could row again. Notice the bags hanging off the side and gear floating downstream..... Photo by Ryan Morgan
Will was finally able to row out of the hole after a minute-long surf. Alissa and Tyler had extremely clean lines through Green Wall that day: they walked.

Despite a little adversity, everyone was safe. We were blessed with a strong crew of boaters and everyone exhibited good boating skills and excellent judgement. We all took a breather and continued down through the class IV gorge.

Just before camp, I decided to hike my boat up to run the little tributary waterfall. This time I thought the upper drop looked good too, so I gave it a go, giving a little more carnage to the trip, but that's a different story...... Photo by Alan Douglass

Upper Wind River: IV+ (WA)

2008-02-25T09:16:00.000-08:00

After having a good day in the sun on the Washougal River, Will, Ryan, Danielle and I decided to try out the upper Wind River in the Columbia River Gorge. The weather wasn't as good as the day before, but we weren't deterred by snow out our way to the take-out. The All-Trac leading the way through mud and snow with a sweet new alternator.

The well-known gage rock at the take out had water sloshing through the horns, which indicates a good medium level. We dropped my car off and headed up to the put-in.Getting ready at the put-in.

The first mile or so was mellow class II leading up to Initiation: a long class IV boulder garden. Ryan was the only one who had done the run, so we were mostly following him. After Initiation, the action kept coming for several miles. We moved quickly without scouting anything and bombed through dozens of class IV drops. Ryan chose great lines and we would regroup in an eddy to watch Will come through. Will nailed everything and we would peel out again once he was through the rapids.

Will dropping through Ram's Horn

Eventually we got to a steeper horizon line and eddied out. Ryan was just above the lip boat scouting and I found a parking spot on the right. Ryan gave me the "go left" signal, grinned and dropped out of sight. A few seconds later I saw him re-appear in the pool below and followed. It was a fairly tall ledge with some big hydraulics, but the left line was a fast, clear tongue.

"That was Ram's Horn" declared Ryan when I caught up with him. Personally, I love not learning learning where the well-known rapids are until after I run them. It kinda takes the edge off. The experience was similar at our next big drop.

The author negotiating some of the "in-between" stuff

The river resumed it's normal character of continuous class III with periodic class IV drops for another mile or so (it's hard to remember because it all went so fast). Eventually, the river disappeared again, only this time Ryan disappeared with it. Where the hell did he go? I grabbed an eddy and looked over my shoulder to see him signaling left. I aimed toward the slot he indicated and paddled hard. This was one of those drops with a boof flake you want to find to help clear the hole. Well, I found it. It was right there, two feet to my left as I dropped into the gut of the hole.

I pulled the best boof I could without any rock to launch off of and it went surprisingly well. I landed flat and kept paddling downstream to clear the hole, but all in vain. The hydraulic stopped me dead. I changed my strategy and spun around, then paddled full-strength back INTO the hole. Strange, I know, but I drove my bow deep into the green water, launched into an ender, and it was just enough to shoot me out the backside of the hole. I rolled up the the moving pool below, and, to my astonishment, saw Ryan upside-down against the wall. I guess while I was getting worked, he signaled for Will to stop, which was just enough to flip him. Ryan rolled up and Will came through with a good clean line. "I think that was 'Climax'" said Ryan.

Climax marks the end of the real whitewater on the upper Wind and we made our way through a few miles of class II boogey water to the take-out.

Washougal River: III (IV)

2008-02-11T13:53:00.000-08:00

On Friday, Jan. 11th, it rained. It rained a lot in the Columbia Gorge region. It rained enough for the Washougal river in southern Washington to get pretty high. What is normally a class II/III- residential run had turned into a fast big-water section. Even with the extra water, the run was mostly class II with a couple III's and one class four: Big eddy. The one rapid was fun with big waves and holes scattered across the river for a few hundred yards. Other than that, the most difficult part was the put-in.
Ryan convinced us to launch on the NF of the Washougal, which would add an extra mile of river and some excellent play waves. The access here is decent for kayaks, but challenging for rafts. We ended up belaying the boat down a hillside until it got stuck. From there we played around with getting throw ropes stuck in trees for a while until we could finally load the raft.

Once we launched, the river was very fast. In the first mile we encountered several outstanding surf waves. Unfortunately, I was in my creekboat and couldn't take full advantage of the playboating all down this run. I was able to surf my Huka on some of the longer, faster waves however where displacement hull got up on plane.

Ryan on one of the smaller features.

Further downstream, there were many more small surf waves with great eddy service, such as the one pictured above. I had trouble staying on the waves with my sluggish boat, but Will and Danielle in the raft did just fine.
We made our way to the take-out without incident, other than me flailing through some of the big water in a boat designed for steep creeks. Damn, I shoulda brought a playboat! As per usual, beer and kettle chips awaited us at the take-out and we gladly indulged.

Canyon Creek, WA

2008-02-06T17:41:00.000-08:00

The Drop Zone on Canyon Creek.

After a bit of a hiatus from this blogging stuff, I'm gettin' back after it. I'm planning to do an awful lot of boating over the next year and should have some pretty great runs to document. Of course, it's not like it's anything new because everything I run is already in the guidebooks. But I can at least offer my own opinions to those who care and those who know me might actually give a damn. (Thanks Mom and Dad).

Since I had the run-in with the tall-boy of Negro Especial, I've been doing some high-water boating, enjoying getting tossed around in my playboat. We did a two-day Illinois trip with the gauge peaking at 5,000 cfs on the last day, giving us over twice that at the take out. Shortly afterwards Will and I joined up with 14 other lost souls and spent the 25 shortest days of the year running the Grand Canyon. Once back in the rainy northwest, we spent a weekend on the Smith, enjoying high flows on the class IV+ North Fork and class V Oregon Hole Gorge.

Will and the raft crew near the end of Oregon Hole Gorge

Over superbowl weekend I got back into creeking mode with a run on Canyon Creek in Washington. Canyon Creek is a classic among Portland-area boaters for its fun whitewater, scenic canyon, proximity to the city, good waterfalls, and long season. It's been a cold month in the Pacific Northwest and all our precipitation is locked up as snow in the hills. Good thing Canyon Creek was still running!

I met up with Ryan, a friend from the Grand Canyon trip. Before we left town, our group grew to seven and we ultimately launched with nine paddlers: way beyond critical mass for carnage on such a tight creek. Plus we got snowed on.

You can read all about the mile-by-mile of this run on any number of sites and I didn't take pictures, so I won't bore you with snowy details. Basically, there's a mile or so of warm-up followed by several narrow technical ledge drops that culminate in The Thrasher. Thrasher is a deceiving rapid with a nasty undercut and snow. I watched Mike Long run it first and decided it looked pretty simple while it was snowing. I managed to flip over before even going off the drop, but was able to grab enough water to pull myself out of the hole and past the undercut, where I rolled up in the snow. Two other paddlers went into the undercut here, two portaged through the snow, and one swam after getting stuck. Carnage had begun.

Shortly below Thrasher was the "boulder garden," a description I associate with boulders dividing the channel where eddies abound throughout the snow. This was more of a messy class II that led into two powerful creek-wide drops. I didn't really know what to expect, but both times I boofed hard enough to clear the holes (or just plug through them, I'm not sure). Either way, I stayed in my boat, which is more than some could say. One guy had a pretty bad swim when he flipped in the upper ledge. Did I mention it was snowing?

Flying off Big Kahuna

Below the boulder garden we boogied down to the lip of Big Kahuna Falls. Only a couple of us even bothered scouting this one, which is a testament to how easy this 18-footer is. I'd never run a drop this big or snowy before, but it can't get any easier: line up at the lip, tuck, and fall off. No paddle strokes necessary. Around the next corner we arrived at champagne: another unbelievably easy waterfall, despite the snow. I scouted out the line and saw and easy boof flake in the middle above the 12-foot drop. Just below was the horizon line for hammering spot. By this time I was in waterfall mode and decided to try running the last one snowblind. Wrong decision.

Tim runs champagne while the author looks on.

An O-Shit moment at The Hammering Spot

I'm glad Mike didn't take this shot a second later, because a sequential shot would show me getting stuck at the lip, sliding off, leaning back, flipping ass-over teakettle, and landing almost flat on my head. Good thing the water was deeper than the snow! I rolled up without trouble and we headed downstream. The very last rapid is named Toby's after a kayaker who drowned there. Toby's is a big junky ledge with no safe line except for a little sneak that we took on the left where we paddled up onto a boulder and seal-launched down the back side.

This rapid drops into the lake where Canyon Creek gets backed behind a dam. Just when the gradient picks up, the flow stops. Countless kayakers have wondered what the drowned riverbed would have to offer. Once we hit the lake, we had two miles of paddling on the lake to reach the take out and we hiked up to the cars in the snow.

Slogging through the snow at the take-out

Modelo Especial Blows!

2007-11-28T00:35:00.001-08:00

I just got back from a walk. You know, an evening stroll. Since I don't have a dog to make exercise, I like to give my liver a little work out on my walks. I'm not in complete support of our state's open container laws, but they have a place. Still, I figure if you're discreet, there's no problem. So when I go for a walk, I generally return with a 5-pack. Sometimes only a 3-pack if the store is far enough away. This was one of those nights.

However, I didn't want to return home with any beer! I couldn't exactly polish a whole 6-pack, so I decided to buy individual cans. At the local Circle K, I saw some towering 24oz cans and quickly picked up a couple. Well, one of those was a Modelo Especial. This was my first time drinking one of these beers, and I can assure you it was the least satisfying beer-drinking experience of my life. Modelo Especial Blows!

Now just for a moment, ignore the last two paragraphs. Imagine you haven't tasted the beer and you're oblivious to my conclusions. As you see the can on the shelf, you are captivated by several features and draw your conclusions: 1) the can is emblazoned with golden lions and wheat on ribbons, and shit like that: must be foreign. 2) The can has some them spainish words on it: must be foreign. 3) You can't see the words: Bud, Busch, Miller, or Milwaukee anywhere: must be foreign. 4) big red letters read "Imported Beer": must be foreign.

Now I realize in retrospect that just because something isn't American, doesn't mean it isn't a total piece of shit. Just look my shirt that has an overwhelming paisley design despite a manufacture date in the last 32 years. Or look no further than the white lion-crested can at your local convenience store. According to the can and menus at Mexican restaurants across the country (not to mention my assumptions listed above), this beer comes from non-America. Yet it tastes as terrible as anything we've ever been able to concoct.

I'm not saying this is the worst tasting beer I've had. I can't authoritatively judge the flavor since I'd already been walking (had a few) by the time I picked up this can.

This stuff is the epitome of piss-beer. Kyle once asked me the difference between <insert piss-beer brand here> and having sex in a canoe? They're both fucking close to water.

I'd go on to rant some more about how terrible this beer is, but I don't want to waste any more of our time. The bottom line is this: my expectations were for a beer that carried at least a little bit of flavor, not a watered-down corona. I feel disappointed and betrayed. What flavor of Kettle Chips does this beer go with? Lay's, ya inbred sonofabitch!

The Wild and Scenic Illinois River, Class III-IV

2007-11-25T21:21:00.001-08:00

Ah, the Illinois. This is a personal favorite and instant classic. This river was my inauguration to running serious whitewater and a river I continue to enjoy exploring further, sharing with friends, and getting away from it all. I'll go out on a limb here and claim the Illinois is the most remote overnight rafting trip in the lower 48. For 33 miles, the river carves a steep canyon through the Kalmiopsis Wilderness Area in southwestern Oregon before meeting with the Rogue. The "river trail" is high up on the north rim and only comes down to water level once. The only way to see this canyon is from a boat. There are no roads, no houses, no damn jet boats, no hikers and, because the flow window is so narrow, usually no other boaters.

Planning a trip on the Illinois presents its fair share of challenges. The main obstacle is the flow. The Illinois watershed is coastal and low elevation, so it doesn't retain snow for a long runoff season. The entire area is characterized impervious bedrock, clay-rich soil, and minimal vegetation. The result is a river that responds very quickly to rain events. Flows have been known to spike from less than a thousand cfs to a raging 20 grand in as little as a day. Since the snowpack is non-existent, boaters must rely on rain, and because the system is so sensitive, it has to be just the right storm. Many boaters feel privileged to run the Illinois once every couple of years, but while going to college in Ashland, it has been an easy weekend getaway for Will and I. Will is getting to be the authoritative source on the run for anyone wanting beta or just a trip to tag along on. He's run it at a huge range of flows and just finished his 11^th trip in less than three years. So far I've run the Illinois seven times: twice in a raft, twice in my creekboat, and now three times in a playboat. Here's what I've seen.

With the exception of one drop, all the class IV rapids on the Illinois are located in two distinct gorges. The first gorge starts with some big and fun class III rapids that lead into a few class IV's, including York Creek Rapid. The second gorge is the most difficult with a gradient of 70 feet per mile. This second gorge starts with Fawn Falls, Green Wall, and Little Green Wall in the first mile. The actions keeps up for another couple miles full of class III rapids and a few class IV's. Once past Collier Creek below the second gorge, boaters are in the clear and enjoy the best scenery on the trip. The bottom 9 miles are much flatter with only three class III rapids but the lack of whitewater is hugely overshadowed by the majesty of the canyon and its tributaries.

The run begins at Miami Bar, which recently had some work done and is a decent put-in area. The first couple miles are slow with a handful of class II riffles. Keep your eyes open for a major tributary coming in on the right through some willows. Just below this landmark, the first gorge begins. The gorge starts with a long, more continuous class II section with a few holes to avoid. Just below this set of rapids the river drops around a blind corner, but don't worry: it's just a fun class III. At high water (above 3000 cfs) this rapid and the next one blend together into a massive wave train. After another couple fun class III rapids comes a more difficult rapid that is recognizable by a large exposed rock on the bottom left and a thick soil exposure on the right bank. After this drop, the river widens out over a cobbly shoal. The clearest path is down the right side. Shortly downstream is York Creek Rapid.

Some boaters call York Creek a class IV+. I think that's a bit generous, but the rapid still deserves respect and requires a strong move. At flows over 3000, a sneak line starts to open up on the right side, but the main line is along the left bank. The rapid makes a sweeping S-turn with three distinct drops. The first is over boulders as you move from the middle of the river into the left channel. Just below comes the second drop with a powerful hole on the left and a turbulent tongue on the right. This middle drop and the lower one should both be run on the right.

A flat section follows York Creek and leads to one of the steeper rapids on the run. This drop is a fast slide over rocks that pushes into the left wall. Run the right side with a right angle and expect to bump a rock or two. The slide feeds directly into Clear Creek Rapid. Of all the rapids on the Illinois, Clear Creek has given me the most trouble. I swim out of the hole on the bottom right every other time I run it. There's actually a sneak on the far right side that I've seen taken, but the main line is starting right and moving to the center to avoid all the holes. If you're where you need to be, the current takes you right through. If not, you may be in for a pounding. I should know!

Clear Creek marks the end of the first gorge. The next few miles are relatively slow down to Pine Flat Rapid. Again, the book overrates this drop. There's a nasty wave-hole on the right that could easily flip a raft, but boaters are by no means obligated to run it. Kayakers may even enjoy surfing the hole. At medium flows (1500) there is eddy service to the hole from behind the midstream rock outcropping. At higher water, you've got to hike up the right bank to the eddy right next to the wave. Pine Flat Campground is one of the best places to stay the night, just below the rapid on the left. The bench could hold hundreds of campers. Downstream from here, the trip only gets better. The next 8 miles has a few good camps such as Klondike Creek on the left and lots of class II/III with one class IV thrown in. At low water, this rapid has a huge hole in the middle, more holes on the left, and a tight sneak down the right that's hidden by big boulders. At higher water, these big boulders are covered and the whole thing is a highway littered with huge crashing waves. The whitewater goes back to class II/III until South Bend.

South Bend is an important landmark, and an easy one to recognize: A creek come in on river left, there is a unique pink boulder bigger than my house on the right bank, the river takes a sharp right turn, an there's a small beach camp on the right. This is the last camp before the class V climax: Green Wall. If you continue downstream, keep your head up at the next swiftwater right-hand bend: you're entering Fawn Falls. At low-medium flows, take the far left airplane turn slot. Kayakers can take any slot they want, including a really cool line that slides along a slanted boulder in the middle. At higher water, the right side of the main drop is preferable. Lines on the left can work, but you'll want to scout first. Or just get stuffed.

At the bottom of the next pool is Green Wall. For your first time down, it's best to pull over above the rapid and hike down. Veteran rafters and kayakers often opt to run the lead in and eddy out on the left above the crux, which saves about 15 minutes of round trip hiking. I don't even want to try to describe this rapid in depth. Scout it for yourself. If you miss the scouting eddy, run left on the first drop and work back right as soon as possible. If you swim, swim left. If you can't swim, good luck.

Below Green Wall, the real fun starts. Little Green Wall is about 1/2 mile down and is pretty much unscoutable. Run right at low-medium flows and left at high water. Either way, move back to the middle at the end of the rapid: there's a wrap rock on the right and weird shit going on against the left wall. Fairly continuous class III rapids persist for almost 3 more miles down to Collier Creek. Some of them deserve a scout. The two biggest drops after LGW come after a flatter section with a major growth of Alder trees on the right bank. The first is un-named, the second is Submarine Hole. Submarine Hole is actually responsible for claiming my raft-flip virginity back in '05. At low-medium flows, this is a very pleasant cruise with a gorgeous canyon and exciting whitewater to keep you on your toes. At high water, don't expect to catch any eddies and run in tight order: a swim could be disastrous if you don't have good safety. If you're comfortable with this type of whitewater, there are some amazing on-the-fly surf waves, but consequences are very real.

When you see Collier Creek entering the river, it's time to crack a beer. There's an elevated campsite up on left bank about 100 yards below the creek. From here down, it's a relaxing float. During our highest water trip in the Fall of '07, the flow rose over 5000 the day we were down on this section and it was still a piece of cake. The gorges down here are breathtaking and the rapids are few. At high water, it took just over an hour to make it from Collier Creek to the take-out.

Just below the double waterfalls, one of the biggest standing waves on the river comes out at high flows. Run it, it's fun! The other rapid worth mentioning is the last class III. Just before Horsetail Creek comes in on the left is a steep drop with a massive wave train at high flows and lots of holes at lower water. Horsetails Creek has a great camp suitable for large parties just upstream of the creek. If you can get down this low on the second-to-last day, you might be able to run Lobster Creek on your drive home! Clean up after yourself, don't feed the wildlife, and enjoy the Illinois River!

North Santiam River: Dead Cow Wave

2007-10-16T16:52:00.001-07:00

Last Sunday (Oct. 14) I met up with some folks from The Willamette Kayak and Canoe Club (WKCC) for a paddling session near town. With the current flows on the N. Santiam between 2500 and 3000 at Mehama, a great little surf wave is in. Unfortunately, most of the riverfront property is privately owned, so we couldn't just drive to the spot. Rather, we had about 7 miles of flatwater paddling altogether to get to the wave and paddle down to the next river access point. These guys were well-prepared though, and brought a barbeque, lots of food, and sunshine. We had 15 people altogether and took turns riding the wave and enjoying the picnic. The wave was worth the effort and I got a chance to try out several different boats. The downside of paddling different boats is that you find yourself wanting a new kayak. I would share some pictures, but I still don't have a camera since Pentax won't honor their warranty. I'll just have to get a new one and do some more boating!

Trinity River, Burnt Ranch Gorge: Class V

2007-06-12T12:25:00.001-07:00

I've probably spent more time scouting this run online than any other stretch of river. I've been reading about "The Ranch" since I was in high school. There are plenty of excellent write-ups out there on Oregon Rafting, California Creekin', Jefferson State Creeking, and Caliproduct, as well as a write-up in the Holbek/Stanley guidebook. From talking to some 30 paddlers who've been down there, I've only really heard two perspectives about the run.

"Burnt Ranch Gorge is a super fun run with lots of good rapids and fun play waves." -This is about how I'd describe the NF Smith or the Illinois.
"Burnt Ranch Gorge is F*&king terrifying, and I'm never going back unless I'm with a super solid team and conditions are optimal." –Plenty of good class V boaters have expressed this sentiment.

These polar opposite attitudes from boaters I consider much more talented and experienced than myself made me extremely nervous about the run. My conclusion: both are true. The gorge is loaded with fun rapids. If you're confident enough to run this in a playboat, you'll be rewarded by lots of awesome waves. At the same time, the rapids are only fun when you nail you line, and if you don't, there are consequences. All rapids have a recovery pool below them, but if you swim at one of the upper or middle falls, you need a fast rescue to not swim another class V rapid. There are plenty of big holes you must run and sieves, siphons, caves and undercuts to keep you on edge. I loved the run and hope to go back.

Granted, we had a strong team and pretty ideal flows of 1300 on the Burnt Ranch Gauge. I was in my kayak and Will and Kerri were paddling a 12' raft. None of had been down there before, so we scouted lots of rapids. I would have been comfortable boat-scouting almost everything, but I didn't want to accidently drop into the falls section.

Will and Kerri in Tight Squeeze

The crux of the run is the falls section: three steep class V rapids spaced closely together. At 1200 CFS, the upper falls is the scariest, the second is the biggest, and the third is the hardest. The first falls has a long class IV lead-in to the main ledge, where the river divides around a couple house-sized boulders. About 30% of the water was going into the right channel that dumped into a sieve/cave thing that would be really bad to swim through. The left channel is the best option with most of the water going over a fast slide with hardly any hole at the bottom to worry about. Personally, I thought the showerhead looked fun: an 8-foot tall low volume slide between the two big boulders. I was unsure about the landing depth so I tried to boof but penciled in, got backendered, and sucked into the hole. I couldn't roll up or hang on long enough so I swam. Fortunately, I managed to grab my boat and paddle and stood up on a submerged rock at the base of the drop, so I self-rescued and was able to paddle to shore before the second falls.

Getting my boat drained out, we went to scout number 2. Number 2 is the shortest and steepest. There are three drops with each being taller than the first. The final drop divides around a big boulder and drops 10 feet. I made the tough move and cruised through the fast and easy left channel. The raft blew their angle and got sucked to the right side, where they ran a bigger hole. Neither hole is really a major concern, as the raft punched through backwards.

The third falls is another long rapid with three drops. The whole right side is junky and sieved out, so the only option is to barrel down the left. The first drop is an insignificant boof, flowing into a big lateral hole with a deep seem, which in turn feeds into the last drop. The last drop has a river-wide hole that is biggest on the left. Unfortunately, that's the only place to run it. I peeled out and tried to get as much momentum as possible. The seam pushed me farther left than I'd have liked and I drilled into the farthest left part of the hole and got flipped and pushed up against the wall. I was relieved to be clear of the hole but as I tried to roll my boat kept hitting the wall. I went to my offside and came right up, but was stuck in a pocket between the big hole and the wall. With a little work, I was able to paddle out of the eddy just in time to watch the raft run the bottom drop backward and still clear the hole.

Below the third falls we started boat scouting more. The undercut in Table Rock was plenty easy to avoid at our flows. One of the bigger class IV+ rapids came shortly after Table Rock where we both got extended surfs in a short but wide and ledgey hole at Hennessy Falls.

After another half dozen class IV rapids, we arrived at Gray's Falls, another class V. It's not a hard rapid but has a pretty nasty hole that would be hard to escape from and a funky move off a pillow to avoid it. I ran almost the whole thing upside down and still had a clean line.

The real whitewater was done, but we had the hardest part of the run ahead of us: a two-mile flatwater paddle out with a stiff upstream wind. It took us 4.5 hours to get from Cedar Flat to Gray's Falls, and another hour to make it to the take-out. From there it took me 45 minutes to hitch a ride. I could probably have biked the shuttle faster, but the road is windy with big trucks going fast, and I didn't want to get taken out. All told, the trip took us just over 18 hours. We left Ashland at 5 a.m. and didn't get back until 11 at night. Next time I'll camp and get two days of paddling in, but to see this amazing run for the first time with such great water levels, weather, and people, it was well worth all the trouble.

N.F. Rogue, Mill Creek Falls Section: IV+

2007-05-18T20:27:00.001-07:00

Sorry, no pictures of this run. You can thank the Pentax Warranty Department for that, since they've had my camera for about a month now. This run is another southern Oregon creeking classic, except the access leaves much to be desired. The put-in is at the base of Mill Creek Falls, where the Creek dumps straight into the river from a cliff 180 feet above you. Upstream, the Rogue drops that same distance in less than half a mile. The Forest Service calls this the Avenue of the Giant Boulders, boaters call it f*cking steep. It has been run by a few people, but offers lots of opportunities to go of a waterfall onto rocks, vertically pin, swim, and disappear forever in a sieve, undercut, pothole, or siphon. Anyhow, the gradient tapers off below Mill Creek Falls to about 180 fpm. The put-in is spectacular: the spray from the waterfall provides year-round moisture for plants on the river bank so the last part of the hike in (after descending a 100-foot high cliff) is like wading through a rainforest understory to reach the river. It reminds me of footage I've seen of hike-in is Columbia and Costa Rica.

The first mile doesn't have any recovery pools, but there are enough eddies to boat-scout almost everything. It's typical cascades creeking, with boulder-strewn channels and lots of boofs to hit and pitons to avoid. This section was super fun when I didn't flip. I don't know that I'd feel the same if I had. After about four class IV+ rapids (it's hard to count when they aren't very distinct), we got out to scout one. Good thing we did, too, because there was a river-wide strainer not visible from the top. Needless to say, we portaged. Below that drop were two more good class IV+ drops with fun boofs to be had by all. Otherwise, the river mellowed out to class III+ read-and-run. Peter and I made good time down to the powerhouse, where our flow increased by about 200%. All of a sudden, we weren't creeking anymore. The boulder gardens turned into pushy class III rapids with big holes and fewer rocks. Fast, fun wave trains continued down to where the river flows into Lost Creek Reservoir. With how high the lake was, we had a short paddle to where the hike out began. Though it's fairly short, Mill Creek is a sweet run. I think it's much better than Natural Bridge, however I've only seen that at low water.

Pros: this run has a spectacular put in and a beautiful canyon with sheer 200 foot cliffs in the box canyon and lush vegetation. The rapids are a lot of fun, with a steep first mile full of boofs and technical moves. It also gives you the best of both worlds, as the powerhouse gives everything a big-water feel. The run is lots of fun and closer to town than anything else. It's a step up from Natural Bridge and probably easier than the middle or south forks of the Rogue. Water quality is also exceptional. For those with much bigger balls than I, you can run the continuous waterfall section upstream of the put-in.

Bummers: Access. The run is between the NF Reservoir and the powerhouse, so flows are typically diverted. American Whitewater has been working on recreational releases on weekends in the summer, but there is still no gauge, so you have to just drive up and check it out, with Natural Bridge as a backup plan. Also, the put-in and take-out both suck. Both parking areas are about 300 vertical feet above the river, which means a fun hike with your boat on your shoulder. The put-in is a little tough to find, but there is a steep trail winding down the cliffs near some of the viewpoints looking at the waterfall. Just follow the trail to the base of the cliffs and find your way to Mill Creek Falls; it should be pretty obvious. The take-out is as bad or worse. Fortunately, there is a road, but it's still a grueling hike without a backpack system for the kayak. Your other option to avoid the hike is to paddle across the lake for a couple miles to a place with road access, probably near the bridge over the reservoir. The most attractive and least likely possibility, is to befriend someone with a jet boat and have them meet you at the take-out with a cooler full of beer and a boatload of bikini-clad young women. And maybe even a wakeboard, if that's your thing. Good luck.

Upper Clear Creek, Klamath Drainage: IV+/V

2007-04-21T21:23:00.001-07:00

This run deserves an awful lot more attention than it gets. Maybe it's because of the one-mile hike in or the nastiness of the mandatory portage. Maybe it's because it's so far from population centers and doesn't have any granite, which makes California boating so good. Whatever the reason, it isn't good enough to not run Upper Clear Creek. The run itself is fairly short (3.5 miles), but with a gradient of around 165 fpm, there's plenty of action. And if you prefer to just bomb through stuff, you could either do laps or continue on to the mellow lower run (class II/III) to cool down.

A view of the gorge from the shuttle bridge

Gabe lining up for a boof early in the run

The name Clear Creek suits the water quality, which is almost as transparent as a swimming pool. You can see the riverbed clearly throughout the run, even in pools that are 25-feet deep. The volume of the "creek", however, is bigger than many rivers out there. Clear Creek doesn't have a gauge, but is closely correlated to Indian Creek at Happy Camp, the next drainage over. In general, Clear Creek carries slightly more water, but locals just refer to the Indian Creek gauge. At 600 cfs, the run is a bit more creeky with lots of boofs and more sieves than keeper holes. At 900 cfs, some smoking holes develop in many rapids, a few of the pools flush out, and it gets pretty pushy in general, but almost all the sieves cover up and the run gets softer. Running Clear Creek at high water is like taking all the hero lines on the Cal-Salmon at 5.5 feet.

As of spring, 2007, the road was gated about a mile upstream of the take-out. The hike in from here takes about 45 minutes and is well worth the effort. Plus, it means you can walk your entire shuttle.

Cyrus on a sketchy part of the hike in.

The put-in is at the first pack bridge you come to, about a mile beyond the trailhead. After about a quarter-mile of class II-III warm up, the first section of real rapids begins. The first rapid has a long class II lead-in with a scouting eddy on the left just above a class IV boulder jumble.

Gabe and Adam scouting halfway through the first rapid

The next rapid has a massive hole on the left that 90% of the water goes into. The right side features a fun sneak line with two boof moves.

Cyrus runs the top slot while Glenn looks on.

The next (third) drop deserves a scout from the left bank. The best line is right at all flows, but at low water a hole at the bottom gets nasty.

Glenn just above the third rapid

The fourth is the hardest and final rapid in the first gorge. At high water, this one is class V, with three big holes to punch through and undercuts all along the left wall to avoid. At lower flows, all the holes mellow out and the last drop is an auto-boof with a narrow landing. A partial portage is very manageable along the right bank.

Cyrus dropping in to the second hole, dodging undercuts

The run cools down for a bit here. You'll see outhouses at the trailhead high up on the right bank and be happy to see some class II-III water. The next major rapid has a big log on the right side, scouting eddy on the left, and a sweet boof in the middle. At 600 cfs, boof in the middle. At 900, a tongue forms between the center hole and the log.

Cyrus hitting the boof

The next drop has a nasty hole on the bottom left and can be scouted on the right. About 100 yards downstream is the ugliest "runnable" rapid on the run. The lead-in is a sweet looking rapid, then it drains into a river-wide sieve. At high water, it's navible, but at lower flows, your choices are to break you ankles, break your paddle, break your face, or, my personal favorite: portage!!!!

Which slot would you like to get broken in?

The next mile below this is mostly class III with a couple minor scoutable horizon lines. Eventually, you'll reach The Frowner, a river-wide upstream U-shaped ledge with an ugly hydraulic and easy sneaks on each side.

Cyrus sneaking left at The Frowner

When you get to this point, consider your situation a little bit. This is the last chance to hike out, and the walk is pretty easy back up to the road. Downstream, the river enters the unportageable gorge. The scenery from here on down is the highlight of the trip and the rapids are much cleaner than up above, but at high flows, some huge holes develop and nothing's scoutable.

One of many river-wide foam piles on Clear Creek

Once you pass under the bridge, keep good spacing. Soon you'll pass a big tributary on the left, from which you can see the horizon line of the mandatory portage. It's the kind of drop where your chances of survival are better without a life jacket, as the only way to escape the hole at the bottom is by flushing deep and clawing along the bottom. Portage on the right, catch the eddy one boat at a time.

The portage: I wouldn't be surprised if there are some

trees/dead animals swirling around down there.....

Gabe seal launching below the portage

The next horizon line is the last one, but it's quite a finale. The last rapid on the run is 100 yards long, unportageable, and mostly unscoutable. You can get a good view of it from the road before you put on, otherwise, this is the best scout you'll get:

Fortunately, it all goes (eventually). The general run is left, right over the big ledge, left, then center. The big ledge gets a big hole on the left side that's a good 8' boof below 800 cfs. On to the take out.

Light at the end of the gorge

Access:

My car was almost small enough to squeeze underneath it.....

Take out: Iif you plan on doing the lower run as well, park a car along Hwy. 96 where it crosses over Clear Creek (six miles downstream of Happy Camp). Otherwise, drive another mile upstream on the highway and turn off onto Clear Creek Road at Wingate Bar. A sign for Slippery View River Access marks the takeout of the upper run, put-in for the lower run. Hike down and scope out the take out, because it's hard to recognize. Also drop off your victory beers here so they get nice and cool.

The fruits of good planning

As you continue upstream, you may want to stop about 300 yards above Slippery View and scramble down to scout the last rapid. It's unportageable, mostly unscoutable, and the biggest rapid on the run, so it's good to have some idea what you're getting yourself into. Continue up the road 2.5 miles to the Clear Creek Trailhead where you begin the hike-in. Once your reach a pack bridge across the creek, start looking for a good seal-launch spot.

South Fork of the Salmon, California: Class IV+

2007-04-16T17:07:00.001-07:00

The Cal-Salmon area has a huge variety of rafting and kayaking runs. Upstream from the popular commercial runs on the main fork, the South Fork offers a steeper, more creeky style of whitewater. The gorge run described here is simply referred to as the South Fork. Downstream is a class III run known as the Methodist Creek run, named after the creek at the put-in. The South Fork is generally considered a step up from the Nordheimer Run on the Salmon and rated class IV+ to V depending on the source. At low flows, the run is good class IV, but nothing is really class V. With more water, everything gets pushier and some of the rapids develop some major holes. Duh.

Blue skies at the put-in for the South Fork

The run starts out with a great warm-up of class II riffles for a couple miles. The scenery through here improves as the river approaches the gorge.

The mellow first half of the run.

The South Fork has a great tempo to the run. The beginning has a great warm-up grading from class two up to a few class III chutes and then a great class IV drop. The class IV is a long boulder garden that leads into horseshoe-shaped ledge pictured below. The middle is a nasty hole but has great boofs on either side

Peter below the first class IV

Here the run calms down again for a half-mile or so until a short twisty class IV that deserves a scout if you don't know the run well.

Above: Shaun in the entrance to a short class IV. Below: Michael finishing the same rapid

The action continues for quite a while from here with too many class IV drops and good boofs to count. Another rapid to be aware of is The Sieve. It's a fairly easy rapid, but consequences have been fatal in the past. On a recent trip, one paddler missed the move and had to eddy out just above the sieve. We spent about 20 minutes carefully getting him and his boat through the 6-foot portage. In the photos it looks pretty innocent, but there are enough stories to make a lot of boaters walk this one.

Chris corrals Peter's boat and Peter holds Adam's boat while Adam scrambles around the sieve, which looks harmless from all angles: until you're stuck inside it.

Action continues with boat-scoutable rapids until you get to Disneyland. Disneyland has got to be one of the most fun rapids out there. It can be intimidating from the scout (I know class V boaters who've always walked it) but is fairly easy once you get the hang of it. It's the only rapid I know where the more defensive you are with pry strokes and draw strokes, the better your run will be. The trick is to just go with the flow and ride the pillows around all the nasty spots and through the tight run-out.

Working the first pillow in Disneyland

Damon in the run-out of Disneyland.

After Disneyland comes a fun boulder garden that's a great one to practice boat scouting and hand signals in. The run ends with the final gorge, containing three rapids. The first is the infamous hole from the Oregon Kayaking write-up. The hole has been pretty benign every time I've seen it, so we just paddle hard down the right side. I tried the left boof once and it was one of the worst lines I've ever had.

The very last rapid has some nasty holes in it, but there is typically a fun and easy sneak line around the right side.

Peter finishing off a great day on the South Salmon

The run is fairly short (5 miles) and packs a lot of good rapids into the short distance. Some people shorten it further by hiking in to alternative put-ins and do laps.

Access:
The take-out is at Matthews Creek Campground, a free campground maintained by the Forest Service. It's right along the South Fork Road between Forks of Salmon and Cecilville. To reach the put-in, just drive upstream and look for a road dropping off to the right. Some people put in at Cecilville, but that only adds to the class II warm-up. Bike shuttles on this run are highly recommended due to the paved road with minimal traffic and great fresh air.

Our Clear Creek Epic

2007-04-09T12:40:00.000-07:00

On March 25, Gabe talked me and two other guys (Adam and Adam) into running Upper Clear Creek. Thankfully, we got an early start, because the water was up and we needed all the time we could get. After driving the 2 hours to Happy Camp, California, we left the arid, brown Klamath River canyon and headed up into the Clear Creek drainage. The overcast skies were starting to burn off because, after all, this is California, where it’s always sunny and 70 degrees. After getting dressed and leaving a car at the take-out, we were shut down one mile into the shuttle drive. The road was gated shut and a tree was down just beyond the gate. After a quick group meeting, we all got ready for the hike in. Hiking along the road, we got a few views of what kind of whitewater awaited us.

View downstream from the shuttle bridge into a 20-ft deep pool

The water in this creek is the clearest I have ever seen and the lushly vegetated canyon is breath-taking. The few views we did get were all too obscured for us to appreciate the seriousness of the rapids that lay below. After about two and a half miles, we finally reached a pack bridge over the creek where we could put in. Now we got to paddle. The first rapid was a fast wake-up call to the power of the river. The high flow pushed us all around as it constricted through a 7-foot wide slot. Gabe probed just about every rapid and we soon reached a long class II stretch wrapping around a blind corner. We all crammed into an eddy just above where the lead-in became a big class IV rapid.

Scouting from the middle of the first big rapid

Scouting took a while as we couldn’t see any particularly clean lines through a series of major holes. Gabe and Adam 1 opted for a 6-foot boof into a hole backed up by a rock, while Adam 2 and I chose to peel out, ferry in front of a nasty undercut, then punch through two ledge holes. Gabe dropping in

The next rapid had 90% of the water going into an ugly hole, and had a super fun sneak route on the right. The short, steep double drop featured a 7-foot sliding boof to dodge a hole followed by a super-clean 4 foot ledge boof.

I probed the drop, then took video of Adam 1 styling the rapid. Just afterward, my camera announced the battery was empty and shut itself down. I’m quite disappointed in myself for not charging the battery, because the photography conditions that day were ideal for my little point-and-shoot. We continued down through a couple more pushy class IV+ boulder gardens. The typical rapid involved making some ferry to dodge a sieve/undercut, bracing through some big laterals, and punching a massive hole somewhere in the middle. At this flow, it would be raftable by a solid team, but I wouldn’t want to be on the river with them to help portage.

Soon enough, we came up to another big rapid I’d call class V. We all opted for a partial portage along the right side then ran a little sneak slot around a hole and scraped over a shallow ledge. I tried scraping over said ledge upside down pressed against my back deck, and fortunately had elbow pads on, so I didn’t suffer any injuries. Thanks Mike! A little further downstream, Gabe started to get antsy with our slow scouting. He hopped out for a quick peek at the next horizon line, and gave verbal directions to the rest of us. “You can either boof the rock in the middle, or go right of the rock. But don’t go too far right because there’s a tree dipping into the river.” I was out of my boat scouting at this point, and Adam 1 was peeling out to probe. As he pulled out, he mentioned that he wasn’t sure which rock to boof, but wanted nothing to do with the tree, so he took his best guess.

The hole that ate Adam, taken on a later trip when the boof was good

He guessed right, but the boof wasn’t there. Adam got stopped immediately and began side-surfing. He gave a valiant effort, but the hole had no exit. He swam before I could get a rope to him and Gabe gave chase. Gabe took the tongue between the hole and the log and disappeared downstream. I went back up to my boat and Adam 2 and I composed ourselves and headed downstream. In the pool below, we still saw no sign of our friends. I got out to scout the next drop and found a sieved out right sided and a pushy left line with a nasty hole at the bottom. Adam 2 led this time and I followed close behind. After I cleared the hole, I saw Adam 2 out of his boat clinging to rocks with his boat and paddle both bouncing down the rapid. I made sure he was ok and took off after his gear.

Now we had two swimmers gear all over the river. The boat eddied itself out and I caught the paddle just above another horizon line. In the midst of all this, I had passed Gabe and Adam 1 and was now the furthest downstream. After a few minutes, we were all reunited minus one paddle. Gabe pulled out his break-down and we scouted the next rapid: a messy class V we all portaged. We got back into the read-and-run flow with Gabe out front. I seem to remember flipping a lot after the swims but always flushed and rolled up. After another half mile of class III-IV+ pool drop rapids, we came to an 8-foot ledge with an upstream horseshoe shape and a mean hole in the middle. Sneak lines existed on both sides, but after seeing one run, Adam 1 decided to hike out. This rapid marks the last spot where a hike out is reasonable. Both Adams were exhausted from their swims and decided to call it a day. I was getting tired, but still felt good about my paddling, so Gabe and I continued down.

The horseshoe ledge: your last chance to hike out

This is where the canyon really gorged up. We came to several big horizon lines that couldn’t be scouted. One rapid was marginally scoutable and just above the shuttle bridge. This one was a steep, uniform ledge with two massive holes and no sneak line. After sweating a little bit, Gabe and I worked upstream, got a little speed, and powered through both big hits without much trouble. The un-scoutable, un-portageable class IV gorge continued for about a half-mile before we eddied out for the mandatory portage. At this flow, the eddy above the portage was really only big enough for one boat at a time, but spacing wasn’t an issue with our reduced party size.

The last drop of the portage. If you're still concious going over this, you'll have to get out of your boat and rip off your life jacket to flush below the 20-foot boil line.

We made the portage and got to do a sweet seal launch into the pool below. After the next little rapid, Gabe announced we were pretty much done. We boogied through a couple more class IV drops and about a quarter mile later, we arrived at the biggest horizon line of the day. “Oh shit,” said Gabe, “I forgot about this one.”

The best scout you can get of the final mandatory class V

I could see that the river dropped out of sight, and somewhere downstream, about 50 feet below us and 200 yards later, it pooled up again. What lay in the middle was a mystery. The canyon walls made this drop completely unportageable and mostly unscoutable. Fortunately, a recent landslide had changed the rapid. The rapid wasn’t any easier, but there were some rocks to park on and at least stand up on. I found a tree that was leaning into the river and climbed up it a little ways to peer into the rapid below. All I could see was a steep rocky lead-in moving into a series of ledges, but had no idea where to go. It looked like there might have been a sneak line on the far left, so we paddled down there and caught a little micro-eddy above the first ledge. Gabe told me how stupid the left line looked up close and made a hero ferry across the river to the other wall. He gave me a quick grin, shrugged, and peeled out.

A picture of the mandatory class V finale taken from the road on a later trip. Note the kayak for scale just below the big ledge we eddied out above.

He shot through the first ledge without any problem, but then I lost sight of him until he was in the pool below, right side up. With no other options, I went to follow his line. Halfway through the ferry, I knew I wasn’t going to make it. I turned my bow downstream and had time for one stroke before being swept over the edge. I dropped right into a deep seam in a powerful hole and promptly flipped. I snapped a quick roll before the next ledge, and again had time for one stroke before the next hole flipped me. One more roll and I found myself getting shoved into the wall, flipping again. My next few roll attempts were futile as I continued to get pushed against the wall. I took a hand off my paddle and grabbed the rocks to try to roll up. As I got upright again, the current grabbed my paddle and I lost my grip. I dropped into the third major hole without speed, angle, orientation, or a paddle. My hands only worked so well and I flipped again. I popped off a hand roll and got a big breath just before I was swept into the final wave-hole. By now, I was exhausted. Had I only kept my paddle, I wouldn’t be swimming at this point. I grabbed my boat and swam to shore while Gabe grabbed my paddle for me. Below this, we really were done. Good thing, too. I was now exhausted from my swim and my total of 10 or more rolls in the course of the day. We hiked up to the truck where the Adams were waiting in their street clothes.

Clear Creek doesn’t have a gauge, but it lies one drainage over from Indian Creek. When we ran Clear Creek, the Indian Creek gauge at Happy Camp was reading 930 cfs. Clear Creek typically carries a little more water, but the two levels are pretty closely correlated. At this flow, Clear Creek is definitely a class V run. Only three of the rapids are class V, but the last one is mandatory/unscoutable and with the committing nature of the gorge, this is no place for a class IV boater like me. Clear Creek was within my ability level, but beyond my comfort zone. I am eager to see the run again, with a charged camera battery and a little less water. I’ve heard rumors of a 14-mile class III-IV wilderness run upstream of the gorge that you hike into from the other side, so that just may be my next big destination. Until then, I need to get in better shape.

Scott River, IV/V-

2007-03-23T17:25:00.000-07:00

This is my first blog post. Hmmmmmmm. I'll just pretend like it's not, then I can avoid all the introduction bullshit.
On Thursday, March 22, I got out of class at 10 am. By class I mean my math final. I had just bombed a test, Kyle had lost a paycheck, and Will, well, I'm sure Will could find something to be bummed about. Anyway, at least some of us needed some hydrogeous therapy, a.k.a., boating. The Scott River was running around 1150 at Fort Jones, so we missioned down there for they day.

The river seemed lower than we'd seen it before, or maybe I'm just getting more confident with my own paddling. I did step up and take my playboat down this time through.

Will and Kyle at the put-in

Kyle hadn't been on this run before and I wasn't totally sure on his skill level, so I we ran everything "blue angel" style with me leading. The first couple miles were all pretty fun long class III rapids with a couple class IV's. We didn't scout anything until we got to Whitehouse.

Above: Tombstone Rapid. Below, a fun ledge just below Tombstone

After scouting the line at Whitehouse, Kyle and I jumped in our boats. We both got a little lost in the lead-in, but I was able to find a good place to drop in and skirted the big hole with enough speed to punch the second ledge hole. Kyle got turned around in the top drop and ran the second ledge backwards with no speed. It stopped him and he threw a few cartwheels before flushing upsided down. Will styled his line in the raft and bounced on through.

Kyle and I scouting Whitehouse

Here are videos of Will, Kyle, and Myself running Whitehouse

Next up we scouted Tompkins Creek Rapid, a long class IV+ boulder garden. At this flow, there were lots of options and it would have been fun to run wide open, except for the undercut on the bottom left. Previously, we'd always gone far left and cut to the center above the undercut. Today, I picked out a line right through the middle, while Will made some impressive ferries to get far right and dropped through a cool slot just wide enough for his boat.

Kyle and I in the middle of Tompkins

We took out just below Tompkins today since we got a late start. We got to run one more small ledge with a fun boof before getting off the water.

The Scott is definately one of my favorite runs. It's close enough to town to do in a day after class and is loaded with fun class III/IV rapids. It's got a big water feel and no major horizon lines, but a few rapids that are still intimidating. We ran it at 1150 cfs at Fort Jones and I consider 1000 the low end of the range. I've run it up to 2200 and it just gets bigger and faster. Some of the rapids, like Tombstone, Schuler's Gulch, and Whitehouse really clean out as the water rises, while other sections turn from class II to class IV+.