Thursday 26 May 2011

Wood

The rivers in BC are all in flood. This can be an awesome time of year if you are a) a highly experienced paddler or b) clinically insane. And I'll admit it is fun, but it can get pretty hairy too.

During our second Willow trip in early May we did our normal scout from the highway bridge above the canyon and hiked up through the snow, with a view of the river most of the way. It was clear, although noticeably much higher than the last time at about a +3 on the gauge. Around +5 House Rock is completely underwater and forms a huge hole which makes paddling for experts only. We put in and paddled First Drop and a couple of small rapids which I found I couldn't relax in, the boat was tippy and I was capsizing a lot in the pushy water. It made me nervous.

I peeled out of an eddy and went to take the next eddy downriver, blew it totally and then missed the next several as well, I wasn't being aggressive enough in the faster water. When I did eddy out I sat trying to collect myself. We were already in what was normally Diamond Wave, but all the normal features of the river were flushed out at this level. I found myself uttering the immortal line from "Jaws" - we're going to need a bigger boat. Something with a motor would be helpful about now.

The more experienced guys offered some advice about leaning hard forward as my stern was catching and flipping me. I tried and it helped but not by much and by the time we made Surf City - also washed out - I was not having fun. My friend Matt suggested I bin it and hike out of the canyon before it became too vertical around Freak My Beak. Having no ego (and no courage) whatsoever I looked at the eddyline we were behind, looked at the climb out, and said yeah ok.

I regretted the decision almost immediately. Although the canyon wall wasn't vertical it might as well have been, carrying a boat and paddle. It took most of my strength and a considerable amount of time to climb out. Once at the top I was then left with hacking my way through forest that still had a thick layer of snow, I was also on the opposite side of the canyon to the cut trail. At one point during my fight to get out I thought I heard a yell from downriver, but was too tired to pay any attention.

Cutting through back to the road finally I was convinced the guys would all be asking where on Earth I'd been, but after hiking back to the truck I found that they'd encountered a river-wide log below the Beak, wedged into the canyon. My friend Ty had got his bow jammed under it and more or less ended up doing a handstand on the log to try to escape, his boat pinned by the force of the water butting up against it. It was looking for a short while like an impossible rescue would have to be mounted, but Ty got free, paddled up a nearby eddy and then down and over the log in the middle where it was lowest. The yell I heard had been Ty whooping with relief.

The guys were all made up that I'd called it a day (despite my tall tales of how hard the climb was) as no one wanted to think about what would have happened if I'd flipped over on Freak My Beak and hit the log upside down. Apparently during the last twenty years the club had often discussed the blind drop down the Beak, and what would happen if a log came along between the scout and paddling the drop. This was the first time it had ever happened. We'd been lucky.

A week later and looking for some alternatives since the Willow was out, we were sitting in an eddy formed by a log jam and trying to catch Walsh Wave on the Nechako River when the whole wood pile gave way and swept down into the eddy. It all happened slowly and I watched it floating my way, wondering if I could tuck into the shore and avoid it, when I noticed Matt and Ty paddling like crazy for mid-river. So I followed suit. Later on the same trip Matt got his boat jammed under a branch, but managed to work free of it.

Lately paddling has been on the Bowron River with a few decent surf waves in at these kind of water levels. The last run was a strange affair where Matt ran shuttle for Ty and me on the easier Boulder Run, then I ran shuttle for Ty and Matt on the harder Portage Canyon section. There was a new trail to the put in and it involved me having to drive someone else's truck through a forest, essentially. To start with the trail was visible, although there were small trees in between the tyre tracks and I had to flatten them. I winced as they scraped down the bodywork and under the transmission. Nearer the river, the trail vanished and it was just thinly spread trees and grass. I dropped the guys and then drove the 45 minutes or so up the service road to the take out.

The road only exists as a path to the river for boaters so there is literally nothing there, 30 odd kilometers into the bush. To help the totally alone feeling I pictured scenes from "Deliverance" for forty minutes until the guys showed up, looking pretty stoked to have done a new part of the run. I'm not sure if that's the furthest I've been from civilisation before. It certainly felt like it.

Meantime I just picked up a new boat, it's a much longer and narrower sea kayak which I put on the water for the first time today. Aside from being chased across the lake by mosquitoes it made a nice change from trying to paddle ultra-short boats in a straight line. I was impressed by the speed, and for a long boat it turned well too. With three weeks to go before the planned Bowron Lakes tour I'm hoping to get a chance to take it out fully loaded for a test.

More soon!

Frase.


Monday 2 May 2011

Game On

I looked down from the highway bridge into the churning brown mass of water below and realised I didn't recognise most of the Willow Canyon from the end of last season. It looked enticing, exciting and at the same time unnerving.

My first glimpse of proper whitewater had been the same Willow Canyon on the second day of my kayak course last year, at that time it had seemed really intimidating and I'd been surprised to find out it was only graded III (intermediate) when the river was pretty high. Like now. Strangely the water levels then would have been lower than now. I guess perspectives change as you progress in a sport.

We'd decided to take one vehicle so there would be no shuttle run, we'd walk up the canyon from the main road, put in at the top, and run back down. Which was a nice idea until I stepped off the road into snow over my knees. The whole trail was still buried except for the odd patch of Moose poop. By the time we made the put in about half an hour later the five of us were sweating in our dry gear, thermals, hoods etc. At least I wouldn't feel like chickening out of paddling... the walk back was too hard.

For some reason a burst of overconfidence had made me decide to take the little Jackson All Star I got at the end of last season with me, instead of my bigger Dagger RX. It proved to be a wise decision though as the kayak seemed to have no issues at all in the early rapids, and once we started messing about on waves it came into it's own. Sadly I am just not able to keep up with it, yet :)

We headed slowly down to Diamond Wave, which at the current levels - about a plus 1 on the river gauge - is a prime surf wave. It has a nice eddy too, last season the wave was pretty naff at low levels and the eddy made it super difficult to get on. The five of us sat in the eddy and took turns at trying to surf, with varying degrees of success. Matt and Al, the two experienced kayakers in the group, made the whole thing look easy and they were front surfing, back surfing, and spinning. Ty is a pretty experienced boater but was paddling a boat much too long for surfing. Devin and I got into kayaking last year, Dev is a pretty confident surfer whereas about the only thing I managed to surf on last year was a small bump. Despite that with my second attempt I tried to be a little more confident paddling out and was rewarded with a nice, established front surf. The boat bounced around a little and started to turn sideways but I braced on the foam pile and was pretty surprised at how the boat seemed to want to stay on the wave. It actually took me a short while to realise I'd have to surf off the wave as I wasn't going to flush out.

After a bit of whooping and general over-the-top celebration, it was back to normal and I'd either miss the wave completely, or (more usually) pansy about on the eddyline and capsize. But it was nice to finally get to surf a decent wave! Ty had my camera and videoed a few attempts, so I blame the attendant press for my poor overall performance.

We spent a short while at Surf City after that but the wave was much harder to get on, and Devin had a capsize, couldn't roll, and had to swim. We were all a little concerned as missing the next eddy would mean he'd end up swimming over Freak My Beak, but he more or less rescued himself, just leaving Matt to grab his kayak.

After Dev sorted himself it was time to run the Beak and the section under the highway bridge. I felt a bit of a buzz start and tried to prepare myself, but I was definitely pretty nervous. Added to that I was slightly dazed from having cold water rammed into my ears... note to self, try not to flip over in what is essentially freshly melted snow. Matt gave a little safety talk and then Al went down, followed by Matt. Devin and I followed Matt and Ty brought up the rear. Oddly I found that the section right before the drop was hardest - very boily, with strange eddies making the boat very unstable. I tried to lean forward as much as possible, and I managed to stay upright and dropped over the Beak. The fast moving water pushed me straight past the eddy I wanted to pull into, I turned in too late, got pushed into a rock at the end and flipped over.

I rolled back up and turned to see House Rock, right in the centre of the river, looming over me. There was a big 'cushion' of water pushing up against it, the easy route around was left but I wouldn't make it. So I paddled hard right, caught the current around the rock and was swept out down the right channel. I came out the other side laughing and saw the look of relief on the faces of the other guys. I'm fairly sure they were surprised I was still in the boat :)

From there it was easy stuff to the take out, Devin and I tried a few simple tricks whilst the others got out. The slog through the snow back to the truck was hard going... not as hard as the walk in but I was tired from the paddling. Al had volunteered to host a barbeque at his place so after a shower and change I found myself standing around a decent fire in 160 acres of countryside watching a beautiful sunset through the trees. Al is a doctor, a job that evidently pays fairly well if his backyard is anything to go by. At the end of the evening Aurora Borealis performed it's shimmering, ethereal dance for us against the dark northern sky.

Not a bad day, all in all :)

Frase.

Some video of Diamond Wave HERE. I am the one generally seen NOT surfing ;)