Turkey shoot

Last weekend saw my first archery shoot since the 3D tournaments I attended in the early summer. The "Turkey shoot" was a Christmas get together and a series of ten events that pretty much anyone could have a go at. There was a huge mix of people from small kids to retirees, and all manner of shooters, from traditional longbow and recurve to hugely technical compound with sights, stabilizers and release aids.

Rick lining up a calendar shot

The first event was pretty simple, a balloon wall with every archer firing one arrow to try to burst a balloon. It was difficult to select a target since there were so many but I was happy I hit the one I aimed at. There were allegedly prize tokens hidden in some of the balloons but despite most of the more experienced archers bursting some, and then the marshall letting the kids have at it until they were bored, only one token was recovered!

The second event was a small spot on a target that had been wrapped in Christmas

paper, closest arrow to the hidden mark won. The third event was a target marked with numbers, everyone fired one arrow and then the 'lucky number' was revealed. Canny shooters aimed their arrows to bisect numbers and double their chances :) The winning number was 10, and my arrow in the 7 was closest so I won a turkey.

Next came a calendar shoot, where all the dates on a one-month calendar were jumbled up and the calendar pinned in reverse on the target. Each archer was allowed three arrows and the highest total won. Although there could be no way of knowing how many you'd scored, the event really favoured compound/sighted bows since hitting a letter size sheet of paper at 18 metres with a longbow is an achievement in itself. Despite that a lot of kids with bare bows scored pretty well. I'd definitely have scored better if my third arrow had hit the paper :)

Bare bows were definitely better off in the next round, which consisted of shooting at part of a target. Traditional shooters got half a target, and the more shooting aids you had on your bow the less target you got :) The open class - compound bows with all the toys - got 1/16th. I managed to put my first two arrows exactly where the other half of the gold would have been, and the third arrow into the 10. I should have been happy with the tight grouping but it was frustrating to only score 10. The winner was a traditional shooter, which was cool.

When I saw the marshalls setting up the sixth round I laughed, the target was the flame of a candle. Hitting the candle wouldn't do, you had to snuff it with your arrow! Again I thought it was a little biased towards the sighted bows, but my friend and sometime mentor Rick pointed out the much larger fletching of traditional arrows gave us a reasonable chance. I got close, and was reasonably pleased with my shot. Some of the kids managed to put candles out, enough that there had to be a shoot-out to settle the winner!

Gary shooting at 80cm target - with mixed up scoring zones

After that came blindfold reindeer shooting, mixed number target shooting and a shot at a revolving drum through a narrow slot. The last event was the Turkey Shoot, a wooden block with a turkey on it was sent down a rope while archers took shots at it, all to a squawking turkey noise in the background. As I waited for my shot I contemplated just how redneck this would have seemed to me in London, in another life. Of course then my competitiveness took over and I forgot all that and tried to kill that wooden bird ;) My arrow found wood but I missed the scoring zone but a couple of inches, not bad for my first moving target.

Overall I was pretty happy with my shooting. I'd had a several-month lay off and was shooting a new set of arrows that Rick had made for me, and despite that I'd managed to mostly hit what I was aiming at. Added to that there always seems to be a little hard core of traditional shooters at local events and they are very easy to get along with, which makes for more fun.

More soon.

Frase.

Snowboating

Ok so it's hardly a new sport... but it seemed to generate some interest at the local hill. Take one bored kayaker, throw in a snow slope and you have a recipe for fun (or hospital, one or the other).

There is no learning curve to speak of - aside maybe from finding the right slope - you just sit in and go :) The first few slopes I tried were too shallow and the snow too sticky, a regular toboggan was far more fun. Finally I thought I'd try a steeper slope, so went over to the hill where all the local kids go sledding. Rather than start with some of the shallower runs I picked the biggest hill, trudged my way to the top, got in and then realised as the boat picked up more and more speed that I had absolutely no way to control it. Kind of like riding a small missile... and if anyone had been in the way I'd have mowed them down. So I think lesson learned, next time I'll take my paddle and at least then I might be able to steer a bit if not actually brake. I'll take a snow shovel too and make a little kicker for jumps and more stupidity.

I stuck some video of my last run down the hill on YouTube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bMxD39P3hyM and yes it was as much fun as it looks.

Meantime it has been much warmer recently, a little below zero but probably warmer than the UK! The local river is iced over for several metres on either side but is flowing in the middle, and the large ice chunks that were floating in it have mostly disappeared, so a paddle may be possible if I can find a way onto the water. I'm also hoping to head south for a bit of paddling in the New Year, more on that soon.

Frase.

Life in the freezer

Well the answer to how much longer paddling would be possible was three days. The Willow trip and 7 degree c temperatures seemed a distant memory by the following Wednesday when a winter storm swept into town, kinda reminiscent of the rapid freeze scenes in The Day After Tomorrow. The temperature kept dropping until at the beginning of this week it hit minus 29 celcius/minus 20 farenheit/chuffing cold by any measurement. My truck was frozen to the driveway and took a lot of coaxing to even start, let alone move.

With the rivers frozen, driving hazardous and not really enough of the fluffy white stuff for the ski hills to be open yet, I find myself trying to stay active (the body seems to want to hibernate) mostly by trying not to slip over, shovelling snow, or visiting the gym.

I think I am beginning to understand why people here love being outdoors in the summer so much. I have no idea how they cope somewhere really Northerly, like Fairbanks. Yikes.

Frase.

Cold weekend for kayaking

The temperature dropped below zero recently and it's been snowing on and off. Just as well, then, that I am still a new enough paddler to be keen. Although crazed is probably an acceptable alternative word.

Thursday was meant to be a trip out to the Willow canyon for an afternoon splash, but as the snow started to come down (sideways) my paddling partners all conveniently found they had more pressing (indoor) engagements. Not to be put off, I went over to the local lake. It was partially frozen, but still accessible around the sides. I practiced some strokes and even did a couple of rolls, although as I still don't have a hood to wear under my helmet that was probably a bit stupid even by my standards. The water was a bit of a shock as soon as my head hit it.

Strangely the rest of me was way too warm, I wore a fleece as well as thermals and more or less as soon as I started paddling I began to overheat. It was sweating rather than cold that kept the practice session to about 40 minutes, trudging back to the truck I realised that with a decent hood I reckon I will be able to paddle until there is no liquid water left to paddle on. In theory anyway... I'm not sure how much fun putting my gear on will be in -30 degrees c :)

Sunday the planned Willow trip worked out, I met up with Matt and a visiting paddler called Bob. Bob was from further south and turned up on the off chance he might be able to paddle with us. He had a kayak that had been converted to C1, which essentially meant he'd be paddling kneeling on his knees and using a single bladed paddle like a canoe. It was all new on me so I took the opportunity to ask plenty of questions on the drive out to the river. Bob seemed to be a fairly experienced kayaker and had been boating a good while, but he was fairly new to C1.

Matt and Bob

Arriving at the Willow canyon we did our usual scout of the river from the highway bridge, just in case any logs were blocking navigation. The bridge is so high over the canyon that almost the entire run can be seen from one location. I noted the snow on Log Rock and House Rock, and shivered at the thought of being in the water shortly. We took the river trail up from the main road, a fifteen minute walk through the forest to the put in at the start of the canyon. I'd only put in there once before and I wasn't overly fond of it as you are literally straight into the drops and rapids... no nice big eddies to warm up in!

Bob on the trail to the put in

We paddled out into the current and dropped straight into the canyon. I was running the fall over Freak My Beak through my mind in an effort to remember to try "boofing" - lifting the bow of the kayak as you drop, so you land flat instead of bow first. So I wasn't really paying attention to what I was doing in the rapids, and I suddenly realised I felt really tippy. I seemed to be catching edges a lot, at one point I turned around to see where Bob was and almost capsized. Whilst pulling out into the current to try to surf at Diamond Wave, I caught an edge and literally only just managed to brace myself back up with a strong last-second brace. The unexpected edginess made me nervous, and I spent most of the rest of the time just ferrying out into the current and back into the eddy.

Matt at the start of the canyon

Further down the canyon in a fast flowing section we practiced jet ferrying from one side of the river to the other, and that was too much for me in the new boat. I immediately caught an edge and went over before I even thought about a brace, but my first roll was good and I was back up before my head went numb from cold ;) Fortunately Bob had lent me his spare hood, and once the water it held had warmed up a little I was toasty, if a little wobbly from having freezing water rammed into my ears. A second combat roll doing the same thing made me far more cautious. Moving the seat forward in the boat seems to have made it much more edgy. While I sat in an eddy on river left, I heard Matt shout and turned to see Bob coming back up after he was forced to combat roll. He was pretty chuffed as it was his first combat roll since moving to C1... he'd tried to explain how to roll a C1 but my brain had kind of switched off during the explanation, it was so convoluted :)

After a little more playing about we moved down from eddy to eddy until we were above the Beak. Matt gave a little safety chat as I think he could see I was having a hard time in the All-star and of course Bob would be running the Beak for the first time in his C1. I'd been under the impression that the level was well down, but the river was moving through the canyon much faster than I'd ever experienced before. Matt went down first and sat waiting below the falls. I followed his line down, but was a little further right than I wanted to be and was so concerned about the drop I completely forgot to boof it. The kayak followed the green tongue of water over the main section in the centre of the fall, but where I would normally plough straight through the foampile at the bottom, there was now a bit of a hydraulic. Before I even realised what was occurring the stern of the boat was driven under and the bow came up, for a second I was doing a nice vertical stern squirt which would have been awesome if it was intentional :)

The boat dropped over on me so I ended up underwater, but I rolled up first time ok and paddled clear of the foampile and canyon wall. Unfortunately where at low levels you can easily paddle into an eddy against the current, the swifter water carried me a dozen yards or so down river before I managed to eddy in. I still managed to see Bob run the falls ok, and he seemed made up that he'd done a decent run like that in the C1.

Freak My Beak (from the highway bridge)

The river was flowing fast around House Rock and there was a small rapid either side of it, which I'd not seen before. So the river was definitely up and/or faster than usual. Once on the flat stuff after House Rock we paddled and chatted, and I did a couple of practice rolls despite the cold. I was actually nice and warm and the air temperature was probably a good 7 degrees c even though it was nearly dusk and there was snow laying around us. Bob decided to try a practice roll and I was right next to him so I got to see the technique... unfortunately he couldn't roll up, and after watching two attempts I was debating whether I should go in for a T rescue with my boat, or wait for his signal, when he swam. There was little current in the wide flat section we were on, so there was plenty of time to make sure he was ok and then tow him to shore. He was towing his boat and paddle so it was a pretty good workout! My old Dagger Rx is definitely better for towing swimmers. I offered to tow Bob to the takeout as it was a matter of yards away, but he wanted to finish the run in his own boat. Top man.

As we drove back into town I wondered if that would be the last river trip until Spring... the weather is due to take a turn for the seriously cold this week, with -13 degrees c forecast. How much longer can we paddle?

More soon hopefully.

Frase.

Late season paddling

On Friday afternoon I went out to the Lower Willow with Allison and Ben... both students who were more than happy to take a study break to paddle! As we were planning to do the Lower and I'd only run it twice before, the last attempt resulting in a swim, I elected to take the older Dagger Rx as it was a known quantity.

We all failed to meet at the allotted point - I was running ten minutes late and assumed the others had gone to the river and they were running later than me and assumed I'd done the same - so we all bumped into each other at the put in point. After sorting out some shuttling we put the kayaks in at the takeout of the Upper Willow run. I'd not seen the Upper since I was a very green beginner, and I'd never run the adjoining section of river between the Upper and the canyon (the Lower Willow run). Thinking back to how many capsizes I'd been through on the Upper brought a wry smile to my face as we paddled out into the current.

Ben set off at a good pace and I followed him as he seemed to know the river pretty well. There was an extremely shallow section on a sharp right bend in the river as the Willow approached the canyon. We ground over that, and then things started to get exciting as the boats picked up speed and took on the energy of the river.

There were a few drops and then we were in the canyon, and the current slowed a little behind the drop called Nick's Nob. From here onwards I'd been before and I let out a whoop, partly from joy but mostly from staying upright over the unknown part ;)

We continued down the canyon apace and I started to think we'd be done the whole run in about 15 minutes! But then Ben pulled in after Surf City, a nice wave right next to a big eddy. Alli and I sat in the eddy while Ben played, throwing ends and surfing, then we both tried a little surfing with varying degrees of success. I managed a couple of short but decent surfs, and then did a couple of practice rolls which resulted in a huge headache... the water was freezing cold! Ben was doing his best to keep his head out of the water as he did tricks, and Allison had no intention of getting wet as she wasn't even wearing gloves.

We were rapidly losing the light so decided to finish the run down the canyon. Scouting from the highway bridge, which is a hundred or so feet directly above the river as it crosses the canyon, had shown a large log blocking the left channel into Freak My Beak (the route I ran before). We were therefore forced to take the river right route which was tougher due to the drops approaching the Beak. Getting the drops wrong would mean running the Beak falls upside down, which is what had happened to make me swim previously.

Ben elected to go first so he could wait for Allison and me in the eddy below the falls, and he headed down. I made a note of his route over the drops, and tried to follow with some success. The last drop before the beak had a fairly large rock in the centre, and I managed to draw right and avoid it before plummeting over the Beak. As I landed in the foampile I realised I wasn't even going to flip over, and let out a victorious yell :) Probably anyone crossing the highway bridge at that point would have got a shock.

Allison flipped on the falls but rolled up easily, and we sat in the eddy playing in the foaming water beneath the falls for a while. It was getting pretty cold and dim so we headed for the takeout and I tried not to grin too much... Frase 2 Freak My Beak 1. I wanted to test the new kayak over the weekend so I asked if anyone wanted to do a mellow run the following day. Somehow this turned into "let's do the same run again" which I fretted about a little on the way back into town, I wasn't sure how the little Jackson would react in whitewater.

Saturday morning I started the car at about 8am and the temperature gauge read -2 degrees C. It didn't get any warmer during the drive out to the river... it was going to be a very, very chilly run. Fortunately I'd recently got myself dry pants and gloves and was no longer reliant on a wetsuit/drytop! The sun was shining in our faces as we put the boats on the river, and after some early nerves I found the new kayak was fantastic to paddle on moving water as well as the flat stuff.

I didn't have much time to think as we dropped into the canyon section, but then surfing the wave at Surf City was much easier in the new boat. If I got swept off the wave coming out of the eddy, I could paddle forward onto it again. That was exceedingly difficult in my Rx. At one point Allison got her boat jammed into the pourover in front of the wave and was stuck fast. She even had time to yell over to Ben and me, asking what she should do! I didn't see how she got out, and I should have made a note as I managed to bury my bow in the pourover shortly after. The stern popped up and I was vertical for a second before losing control and flipping over. I rolled up ok, but boy was it cold! Ben mentioned I could have got out of it by edging... next time.

As we left the wave and headed down, a couple of Bald Eagles flew up the valley overhead. I had to take a deep breath to calm down as we followed the same route down the right toward the Beak, this time I caught an edge and flipped over prior to the drops. I rolled up in plenty of time and followed Ben down, then drew left to go over Freak My Beak on the left side again (which worked well the day before). Paddling hard to get away from being pinned to the canyon wall on river left, I whooped again as I eddied out and waited with Ben for Allison.

When all three of us were safely down the fall we paddled toward the takeout and I tried to do a couple of stern squirts. The banks of the river were still covered in frost as we climbed up... something I will have to get used to as the season draws to a close.

Aside from needing to adjust the seat forward a fraction, I couldn't be happier with the All-star. Hopefully something I can grow into :)

Fraser.

A new toy...

Probably one of the dumbest things I've done in a while... I mean if you are struggling to paddle a kayak because it is pretty edgy and maybe a bit too advanced for you, is buying a far more advanced playboat a good idea?? Apparently it is in Frase World.

The new boat - a 2007 Jackson All-star (on right in the pic) - turned up on Tuesday after the Thanksgiving weekend. After the obligatory sit-in-it-and-fiddle-with-bits routine, I took it out for a paddle on a local lake Wednesday evening. I couldn't have been more surprised.

I thought the boat would be particularly unfriendly to paddle, after all it is designed to be chucked around by someone who knows what he/she is doing, preferably in a hole or on a wave, not paddled by some novice idiot across a lake. However the boat was at least as easy to track straight as my RX, despite being a good six inches shorter. It was also easier to maneuver and carve turns, easier to paddle backwards and easier to roll. By the end of half an hour or so, I was in love.


Whether that is still the case after I put the little All-star in some moving water remains to be seen - the edges on the kayak really don't look like they'd forgive sloppiness! Only one way to find out...


F.

The salmon run

Last weekend we headed out to the Stellako river, a short run which is mostly flat or class II stuff with one class III waterfall in it. There had been some discussion and it was concluded that levels would be low, and the rapids might be a bit "boney", but it would be different from the normal runs in the local area.

I picked up Ty and we stopped to pick up the boat he'd be borrowing for the trip, and two hours later we arrived at the take out to find Ross and Jason waiting. We drove both vehicles to the put in since there wasn't enough room for all four of us and all four boats in one car... then having left the boats we drove back and left my car at the take out, before Ross drove us both back to the put in. Fortunately by road the shuttle was only 15 minutes or so!

The put in was in a corner of Francois lake, and the whole place stank of dead fish. There were salmon everywhere, most dead but many were still swimming in the river. Paddling away from shore while waiting for the others, bright red salmon were scattering every time I put a paddle blade in the water. Jason and Ty spotted a black bear on river left further down, given how shallow it was we made sure to paddle past that spot fairly quickly ;) The bear, however, had taken off by the time we got there.

The first part of the run was pretty much flat, although there was some current. Eddies in the river were almost completely lined with dead salmon. Once there was enough depth, Ross and I practiced some rolls while Jason did a few stern squirts. This went on until the first set of rapids, which I bounced over. At a couple of points the boat was more or less high-centred on rocks... it was so shallow. Ty mentioned to keep the boat completely straight over the rapids to avoid being pinned sideways against rocks. There was no depth to capsize and roll up which made me a little nervous, any tipping over would result in a few scrapes!

Ross was paddling a nearly new boat and kept cringing every time he bounced and scraped over some rocks. The early part of the run passed in a similar way, long flat scenic stretches with dead salmon, and very shallow rapids to work through. I found that Ty was absolutely expert at finding a decent line through the rapids, so I'd follow him down, drawing left and right around the rocks.

There was plenty of wildlife to look at - mostly Bald Eagles and the salmon - but every so often we'd see bears. After one of the bigger rapids, we pulled into the eddy behind to stop for some lunch and Ross and I surfed a little on the last small wave. The eddy made it easy to ferry onto the wave, either that or I am getting a little better at ferrying.

Whilst I was munching my snack bar and drinking a little water, Jason asked if he could paddle my boat around the eddy. I noticed he was having a harder time stern squirting... the volume is much greater than in his boat. I duly jumped into his Dagger Juice and immediately noticed how tippy it felt next to my RX. Rolling however was much, much easier and my first roll resulted in my having to brace to stop rolling right over the offside. I tried a couple of hand rolls - a skill which occasionally seems to work and sometimes not - and of course with the other guys looking on it wasn't going to work in a million years. Fortunately Jason was there to T rescue me, it would have been embarrassing to swim again :)

Pressing on we saw a "brown bear" on river right, which prompted some discussion about whether kayaker may be on the lunch menu. But he wasn't interested in us, he just lazily sauntered off up the hill, looking back to make sure we were going. As I got a little video of him I noticed that he was actually a brown Black bear, rather than a Grizzly or Brown bear. Apparently Black bears come in brown in these parts :)

Finally we came to some powerlines over the river which we knew crossed right above the waterfall, so we eddied out on river left and went to scout the falls. They were listed as a six foot fall, but actually the first fall was pretty small, then there was a little pool and then a second, much larger fall. Ross and I immediately said we'd be portaging around the falls... I was still a little wary following a trip to the Lower Willow earlier in the week, when the increased water levels over Freak My Beak had caused me to capsize, miss my roll in the foam pile, get stressed and swim. That shook my confidence, and a capsize over the first fall here would result in running the second fall upside down.

After a long discussion, Jason and Ty - who are a little more experienced - also decided to avoid the falls by taking a slightly easier route down river right. As Ross and I walked down the trail to the bottom of the small fall, we heard Ty whooping as his kayak banged down the right channel. So I guess it was still a pretty fun route ;)

From the falls it was a straight paddle over a long flat section to the take out. The scenery changed from steeper sided canyon walls to flatter, tree covered ground. Most of the yellow leaves had fallen, I think two weeks earlier in the year the view would have been breathtaking. The last obstacle was man-made, a "fish fence" to keep control of the salmon going up the river. There were a couple of fisheries people watching the fence, we had to take out and portage around. Ty couldn't be bothered to get back in his boat and simply draped himself over it to paddle the last kilometer.

As we took the boats out I realised I was shattered... my arms felt like lead and I had that overall "drained" feeling from too much work and not enough to eat or drink. We headed back to get Ross' car from the put in and then loaded up and headed home. The journey back was much quieter!

A cool scenic little paddle, and it was good to paddle another boat - especially since I am awaiting delivery of a nice, shiny red Jackson All-star! More news on that soon hopefully.

Frase.

Likely to rain

The past weekend saw the 18th annual UnLikely Paddlefest in Likely. I loaded my kayak, tent and a couple of friends into the truck and headed down on the Friday evening. Chatting with Katrina and Melanie made the long drive pass really quickly, and Katrina knew the way which saved me driving around in circles!

Likely is tiny and in the middle of nowhere, but is so pretty that it would be worth visiting just for the sake of it. The Fall colours were starting to make an appearance, salmon were in the lake and the rivers, Bald Eagles and Ospreys were soaring overhead.

Friday night was spent in the local pub listening to a decent set of music, catching up with friends and meeting new people. Oh and drinking a little too much. It dawned on me pretty late that I still had a tent to pitch, in the dark and approaching freezing cold. Fortunately my friend Rebecca lent me a head torch and showed me where to pitch the tent, which didn't take too long because I'd spent a fair bit of time on my Americas trip throwing it up. Oh, and I was wearing a thin shirt in the cold! Anyway once up Melanie and I got in and I found my head torch in the tent inner. My comment to this effect was met with a chuckle from the direction of Rebecca's tent :) I don't really have typical North American camping skills - local people on this continent seem to be born with the inate ability to sleep under a tarp in the bush and light fires with a couple of twigs. Still at least there was no open fire for me to contend with (which cost me some arm hair last time).

The night was pretty frigid and I felt it through my zero degree rated sleeping bag, plus fleece liner and silk liner, plus thermal underwear. Melanie, with a summer-only bag and a blanket, spent the entire night shivering. I don't think either of us slept much.

A couple of bonkers Kiwi paddlers slept under a tarp

On Saturday I was up pretty early and managed to get a nice picture of Quesnel lake steaming (above). People started to emerge and we stood around trying to warm up, wearing as many layers as we could fit on. The town cafe opened at 9am and we piled in for warm breakfast and coffee.


Plan for the day was to start off with a paddle down the Lower Cariboo river, which was normally grade II/III but water levels were low. A good number of experienced paddlers volunteered to take the newer folks, which was awesome and much appreciated since there were much more entertaining runs available for the more skilled. A few people very kindly volunteered to run shuttle, and I spent the short journey to the put in admiring the yellow Fall trees against the bright blue sky.


We stopped at a bridge over the Cariboo and it began to occur to me that challenge number one was going to be getting to the water. Someone set up a rope system using a throwbag and we used it to haul our kayaks and selves down into the river canyon. Fortunately we wouldn't be going back that way! The run started off in a big, wide eddy that allowed beginners and experienced paddlers alike to settle into it, practice rolling, peel outs, ferrying, etc.


After that there was a briefing and we set off - the river immediately setting the tone with a fairly good drop/wave. All the beginners had been told to pair up with an experienced paddler, but for some reason I kind of shuttled between other pairs. I'd spend a little time with one pair, then another, and it occurred to me for the first time on a river that I didn't care if I got flipped, I'd just roll up. It was kind of an odd feeling since although the water was the biggest I'd ever paddled, it wasn't all that daunting.


The most important thing seemed to be finding a decent line, and I hung back and watched the various pairs go through before attempting to select which way to go. Fairly soon we came on a stretch of continuous wave trains, with flat topped rocks sticking out here and there. I was finding it a little tough to distinguish between wave and rock, and often there was a little last minute back ferrying or turning to avoid a collision! Melanie wasn't quite so lucky, and managed to hit a rock and get flipped by the eddyline. She had to swim, and further downriver Katrina had to bail out at the same time.

The group in a large eddy

When we got Mel back in her boat and rounded the next bend, Rick was setting his kayak on top of a huge boulder in the river. He seal-launched off the top of it, prompting Ross (who has only been paddling a year) to do the same thing. While he was lining up, his wife Irene paddled up and told me he was terribly afraid of heights... despite that he pulled it off, to whoops and cheers from everyone else. Top fella.


Further down river there was a pretty big drop and the guys leading the trip made certain we were aware not to go too far right or left, and stressed following the leader down. By the time they were done I was convinced I was about to get swept to oblivion, but in fact after charging through the hole after the drop it was straightforward. We sat in an eddy while the more experienced boaters played on a big wave, and I took some pics. Rick, who was leading, told me that it was my turn to swim since all the other beginners had, and for some reason I was very confident there was no way it was going to happen. I told him I was planning to stay in my boat, thanks :) At that point I realised I hadn't even flipped yet, and I made a note to thank Matt who'd told me to move my seat forward to stop the stern edges catching.

Jim surfing

On the last big rapid I got caught by a small hole and flipped over, but immediately rolled up without any trouble. I was actually quite proud of myself to finish the paddle having only had to combat roll once. Evidently I am not trying hard enough :) The takeout was much easier than the put in, fortunately, but after three or so hours on the river I could barely lift my kayak.


Once back in Likely, Katrina and I decided to head out onto Quesnel Lake since we were already dressed up for paddling and, being Likely, there was nothing much else to do except absorb the ambience :) Katrina was beating herself up about her rolling, so we grabbed a different boat and she promptly managed at least thirty rolls without any failing. We headed down the top part of the Upper Quesnel where there is a small play wave/hole.


Rebecca and her friend Ryan were already there and beckoned us down. Smashing through the hole was a blast... I was convinced it was going to stop me in my little kayak. Once in the eddy, Rebecca showed us how to surf in a hole. I've only ever front surfed on a couple of small waves, so watching her side surf across the hole was pretty daunting. She has only been kayaking a year but has a very smooth, effortless looking style. Rebecca and Ryan had to go as the light would be failing on their river run, leaving Katrina and me to it.


We both looked at each other and I'm pretty sure we were both thinking "stuff that". The hole was super shallow and an upstream flip would result in a very sore head. We settled for practicing some turns in the fast current, and I did a little ferrying.


We hiked the boats back to camp and broke out the beers. There was a big party up at the local dance hall with a band called BlackBerry Wood coming in from Vancouver. Not my scene at all, but I appreciate live music in a big way and the band had so much energy and stage presence. The night passed in a blur of beer, cinnamon whisky and very enjoyable conversation.


Rebecca, Matt and I stood around talking until some crazy time in the morning and I literally had just got into my tent when the rain started. It never stopped.


After about four hours sitting and listening to the rain, it was light so I got up and wandered around in the wet. The conditions dampened everyone's enthusiasm and a few people headed home early. The locals put on a pancake breakfast for us and after a short while I felt warm enough to put on my wet wetsuit and paddle. Katrina and I had decided we would try the local playwave again as there was no time for a river run - we were leaving for home at lunchtime. Melanie took the sensible option and elected to wander around Likely with my camera.



Allison joined us for a play in the hole, she was far more accustomed to surfing despite only having been paddling since spring like Katrina and me. The three of us were doing some peel out practice when a couple of locals turned up. They backed into the hole, which I thought pretty impressive, and surfed a bit. One of them paddled over and introduced himself as Jesse, he told us to watch Jay who was still in the hole. Jay started by doing some cartwheels, then did some big loops which looked amazing. Outside of YouTube I'd never seen anything like it.


Inspired, I tried to get myself into the hole but I kept getting turned and flushed out. Jay showed me how to do a small stroke that kept the bow in line, I guess it was a type of draw stroke, but anyway it worked and resulted in about two seconds of side surfing, my best effort to date lol. After they left, Allison and I tried surfing while Katrina practiced rolling. Every time I would get into the hole, I'd get flushed straight out, and the air would turn blue as I berated myself. Finally I caught an upstream edge and got rolled in a very shallow section. I managed to avoid my head taking a battering only by getting my hands and paddle in the way, so when I rolled up a little way downstream my hands were cut and bruised and I'd managed to bend my thumb the wrong way somehow! But it wasn't too bad and I tried again a few times, until my arm hurt too much to continue. I seem to be suffering from tendonitis again... earlier in the year it was my left arm and now it is my right.


We got back to camp and loaded up for the trip home. Melanie had managed to get some great pictures and had found a load of stuff my camera is capable of that I had no idea about! The trip home was quiet... both ladies fell asleep for a long while and I sat wrapped up in my thoughts and watched the rain soaked miles slide by.


I only hope I get to do that again some time very soon. Typically the most fun weekend of the year is also one of the last before the snow flies :)


Frase.

Panorama of Likely in the rain

Whirlpools

My first trip out to the Isle Pierre rapids (with Chad, Katrina, Rob, Scott, Devin and Mel) was a completely different experience to the Willow - normally rated at class II/III the levels were again very low, but what made things entertaining were the frequent whirlpools. We put in and ferried across to play about in a large eddy on river left, before heading down. The Nechako River at this point is fairly flat between rapids, and the weather was pretty damp and chilly.

Things soon started to improve when we came on the first big rapid, more than 50 metres or so of continuous white water. The volume was much greater than on the Willow, with fairly large wave trains to negotiate. I followed Chad and the others and found myself having a hard time staying forward in the kayak - I'd hit a wave, lean back and the bow would bob up and I'd lose control a bit. Just when I was thinking I'd got the better of the rapids, there was a huge eddyline - like a wall - next to a long rock in the middle of the river and it flipped me straight over. I was a little better prepared than I had been on the Willow trip but my first two attempts to roll up failed miserably, and I knew my roll just wasn't strong enough yet to overcome the current there. As the second roll failed, I caught a glimpse of the rock looming up fast and for some odd reason, stuck my hand out to fend it off. I didn't hit anything, so composed myself and gave the third roll attempt my best hipsnap. I rolled up, and had time to paddle clear of the rock before I hit it.

Looking back I realised I had crossed further into the eddy, making my third roll easier... I was convinced if I had stayed on the eddyline I would have had to swim. We sat for a bit in the eddy behind the big rock and practiced turning out into the current, over the big eddyline. It got easier after a few attempts. But what amazed me was the swirling current, one moment it was sweeping you downstream, the next you were heading to river right and then upstream! At one point, a small but fairly powerful whirlpool sucked the back of the boat into the water which made me jump - it can't have submerged more than a few centimeters, but I was convinced I was going to be pulled under backwards :)

The remaining rapids were equally entertaining, but nowhere near as powerful and whenever I was flipped over I was able to roll up pretty easily. It started to bother me that my brace was more or less nonexistent - I was either right way up or upside down, and not really able to stop myself getting from the one state of affairs to the other. That small annoyance aside, I was pretty pleased that I finished the day without having to swim.

Excellence award has to go to Melanie though, on her second ever river run she was tackling the same rapids as the rest of us and making it look easy. At one point she got capsized and hung in there until she was rescued by Chad without having to swim. Cool.

By the time we got back to the cars it was baking hot and the flask of coffee I'd packed in the cold dawn seemed far less appealing :)

Pic at the top is Dev looking to surf a hole with Katrina, Mel and Scott queued in an eddy.

Frase.

Return to the Willow

Finally on Tuesday I got a chance to tackle the Lower Willow river, a run through a canyon that had been on my mind ever since I first saw it in the Spring.

On that occasion, I was on my first kayak class and we were on our way out to the Upper Willow, a nice beginner-friendly class II run. We stopped on a high bridge and looked down into the canyon, where a swirling, foaming mass of whitewater smashed it's way through a maze of rocks, culminating right under the bridge in a scary-looking waterfall. Oh dear, I thought, I'm dead. I was relieved to find out that we weren't going anywhere near that lot on that day... and then amazed to learn it was Class III. What must Class V look like??!!

Of course the water levels have dropped greatly since the Spring. When we arrived at the same bridge on Tuesday everything looked remarkably tame, at least from a distance. I could see the bottom even. There were big rocks. Oh.

We put in below a huge log that effectively cut off the Upper Willow from the Lower. The idea was to run a section for a little while, practicing some skills, before heading down the canyon. I'd been working on my roll in the lake for weeks, and had a good reliable roll on both sides, so I was crossing the current from eddy to eddy with some confidence when I made a mistake and got pinned up against a rock and flipped over. I went to set up for a roll and realised there was a rock in the way, which the current was forcing me into... ok no problem I'll set up and roll up the other way, I thought. That was when my left leg popped out of the thigh brace. I tried to roll but without my leg in place it wasn't really going to happen. I had to bail out and swim.

Great, I thought, we haven't even got to the rapids yet and I've already had to swim out of my boat once. It's going to be one of those evenings! It started to occur to me that there is a big difference between rolling practice and a "combat roll" - one done under pressure after being unexpectedly flipped in a rapid.

After a while the group started to move down the canyon, and we spent some more time practicing ferrying across the fast-moving current. It was substantially different to the easy water I'd encountered so far on the local rivers and lakes. The more experienced guys made it look so effortless, while I flapped about trying to stay upright. At one point, I got swept into another paddler and the two of us got jammed against a rock. I forgot to lean into the rock (and paddler) and so got flipped again. This time, after managing to extricate my paddle from under someone else's boat, I hung in there and rolled up. The combat roll was coming together.

The rain which had been setting in during the afternoon started to come down in earnest, and looking up the steep canyon walls it added to the sense of remoteness. It was hard to believe we were almost right by a main road, albeit some hundred feet or so above us. By the time a couple of less experienced paddlers had taken the last opportunity to walk the trail out rather than run the main rapids, it was starting to get pretty dim. Soon it would be dark.

Rick, the paddler leading the group, explained the only way to run the next part of the river - there was a chute between huge rocks that made a hard right, then a sharp left, before plunging over the small falls called "Freak My Beak". The rocks were so large that it was impossible to see what you were heading towards. One by one the group disappeared down the chute.

When it was my turn, I just kept trying to remember where it was I was supposed to do the "must make" stroke to turn my boat around the hard right turn. Naturally, I fluffed it and shot too far out around the bend, caught an edge trying to turn back and went over. I missed the next part of the chute as I did it all upside down, just trying to hang in there and get enough clear space around me to roll up. When I finally managed to roll, I opened my eyes to see Rick right in front of me, although several feet below. Freak My Beak was between us. Rick was frantically shouting "back paddle!!" so I gave it my best backward strokes, lined up the fall properly, and dropped straight over it. I paddled hard out the other side grinning, and coughing up the mouthfuls of water I'd ingested.

The rest of the group made it down mostly unharmed and by the time we'd all portaged the kayaks out around the last rock to have another go at running Freak My Beak, it was dark.

We managed to find the trail back to the road in the dark, the only remaining concern being bears as we walked through the forest. Plenty of people were making noise, I noticed!

On the drive back into town it occurred to me I hadn't had a rush like that for a while... what a fun evening, and what a great sport.

Frase.

Below: Rob runs Freak My Beak. In the dark.

A B.C. life

Hello,

If you found your way here, welcome, these pages will be a little 'scrapbook' of adventures in British Columbia, Canada - one of the coolest places on Earth. BC has some of the best paddling, hiking, snow sports, and cycling anywhere.

The only thing it seems to lack is twisty roads... perfect for Harley riders but not much fun on a sportsbike :)

More to come shortly I hope, as and when time allows. Meantime please have a look around the blog and the links and feel free to comment.

Cheers,

Fraser.