The Story of Swimming Lava Falls

(a previous and successful run of Lava Falls on the Farmlands, at lower flows)
On Saturday, June 26th, the Husum gauge was reading around 3 feet, but the upper part of the Farmlands looked and felt more like 3.75 feet. (Apparently, a lot of water is being taken out for irrigation. The Class II-III stuff toward the end felt bonier than the top part.) I botched the line (1.5-2 boatwidths too far left) at Lava, and got worked under the veil after a decent fight in front of the curtain. I made like a zombie from the grave and pulled myself upright behind the veil for a quick half-breath before my hull engaged the veil again (it's tight in there!) and was quickly back upside down in the cave, with the downflow interacting with one side of my torso. I conservatively (breath-wise) swam from behind the veil and was under for a long time, being balanced underwater on the bottom of the main tongue for a bit before being barrel-rolled for a few rotations just in front of it (still underwater), as far as I can tell. Balling up only seemed to stabilize me in the subaquatic neutral zone, so I tried to tap the downflow and GTFO of there. My first attempt only succeeded in getting me to the surface for a quick breath and a whack in the face from a throwbag before I went deep again. I made a couple more rounds inside the hydraulic before I was able to straighten my body toward the downflow as I cycled back toward it, and tap into it for my deepest ever body mystery. I felt it accelerate me downward quite vigorously, and lightly bounced along the bottom of the river before coming up about 35 feet downstream, just beyond the boil line. As I swam to the bank, I urged my companions to get someone in the water to grab my paddle and be ready for the boat to come out. After a paddler went down to the next visible eddy and stopped without having found the paddle, I asked to be live-baited in to retrieve the boat (need it for the Idaho trip!), but no one thought this was a good idea at the time. They looked at me like I was insane, in fact. My companions were more shaken than I was at this point, for better or worse.

Witnesses said I was gone from sight for over 20 seconds during the extended underwater portion of my working, and I definitely remember a moment of realizing I would be holding my breath much much longer than I wanted, and that it was time to get calm and work the hydraulic. This thought sequence took place a couple of rotations before I was able to tap into the downflow. My paddle went downstream, was later recovered from an eddy river right 1/4 mile down, and was stashed on the bank by a clearcut. My boat remained behind the veil (hard to see since it is dark dark gray), and I made a rock climb egress straight up the cliff on river right, roped up another paddler's boat followed by that paddler, who managed to hitch up to the put-in to get my car. Can you believe the other guys were drinking beer at the takeout when we got there? Luckily, the sun had only just set, and my sweetheart and I had a lovely hike before it got dark, in the course of failing to find the paddle on foot.

Early in the afternoon of Sunday, June 27th, a group coming off the Farmlands told me that they looked for my boat but did not see it. I put on around 5pm with an esteemed local in his playboat, and me paddling my SCUD with a breakdown that Diesel lent me. (Thanks, Joel!) At Lava, the pool of froth behind the veil looked bigger/whiter, so I surmised that my boat was no longer being held there. The river was perhaps 3 inches lower in its banks, which made the weak spot in the veil a bit more transparent, though it was still a solid sheet of water. Downstream, I hopped out to search for my paddle two times, and found it at the second spot, which was as described by Saturday's crew. I stowed the breakdown, and continued downriver at a medium pace, looking for my creekboat at every turn.

Rounding a corner about 3/4 mile below Lava, where the river gets shallow on the left and current piles up on rocks and sticks to the right, at the base of an active erosion zone, I thought to myself, "this is where it would have stopped if it came through here," and (lo!) beheld my boat near the right bank, broached on a couple of rocks in shallow/slow current, upside down and perpendicular to me, with no apparent damage. I pulled it out to find that it had zero damage whatsoever, other than a few very minor scratches. Both handpaddles (with gloves attached) had come free, and my sponge was long gone. All other outfitting and equipment was intact. The Watershed stowfloats were bone dry. I made one of the burliest climbs in my life with my rope playing out behind me and attached to the SCUD, stopping halfway to yard it up for the final push, and left it hanging off the cliff, tied to a tree on the edge of the mad cow pasture, which was mercifully unoccupied by malevolent bovines. The egress here was so burly because the geology just plain sucked for climbing, with crumbly rock aggregated into loose dirt for 60 feet of vertical, before some vegetation and more solid rocks made it manageable. The descent back to river level was just as harrowing, and I can safely say that I personally accelerated the pace of erosion in this spot quite a bit. In retrospect, I should have floated the SCUD down to a better egress point, and brought a cockpit cover or sprayskirt+camstrap for that purpose. I paddled the Magnum out the remainder of the Farmlands, and met my companion at the takeout, where he presented me with one of my handpaddles, glove still attached. He had proceeded downstream during my paddle searches, waited for a while below Offramp before surmising that I'd had to hike out for some reason, and had been at the takeout for 5 minutes when I arrived. It was truly a great experience to take my time down the 2nd half of the Farmlands on a solo basis in my recently recovered creekboat. What a beautiful canyon!

The trespassy hike in to retrieve the SCUD was a sweaty affair in the evening heat, but with no cows or landowners to assault me, and such a great outcome, I was in good spirits. I made calls at the pair of wild turkeys I startled on the edge of the pasture, but they only clucked back. I guess they don't gobble back if they can see that you're not also a turkey. Some of you might beg to differ with their assessment on that, though.

So, there is a handpaddle with my name/# on it somewhere below Lava on the White Salmon, that may or may not have a glove still attached. The sponge was near the end of it's life anyway, so I consider myself lucky to be down one handpaddle, with no damaged gear or injury to myself or my parties. I do not recommend swimming Lava Falls.

Willie

Middle White Salmon: handpaddling Maytag and Husum

(Willie's custom expert handpaddles)
These suckers (crafted by Hucky McChuckinstuff) are just under half the surface area of my large handpaddles, and even smaller than Riveraholic's small handpaddles. My first time using them, on September 9th's Carnage Run, was a hoot.

It'd been quite a while since I asked anyone to have my back on T-rescues, and even longer since I'd felt gripped in the big eddy at Fish Creek. With my heart racing, I undertook the run without knowing for certain that I'd be able to navigate, much less have a combat roll. Things went very well, and I even got my surf on several times.

My hand roll has to be a bit more optimal with the tiny handpaddles, which is good training. I find that taking many more (but less powerful) strokes gives me a better cardio workout on the river, and requires better boat control, more focus on river reading, and more premeditated obstacle avoidance.

Friends who've started handpaddling recently after months of encouragement from me have been having a blast and extolling the virtues of this pursuit. Me to them: "I told you so!" We had 3 handpaddlers at the first and second Carnage Runs this month, and 4 last week at the third. People wanting locally-made handpaddles should hook up with Hucky, a.k.a. Tango Charlie.

The following Saturday, Luke, Ryan, and I set out to conquer new turf with our handpaddles, having honed our game on the Upper Clackamas. This was my second time using the insignificant pieces of plastic known as "Willie's custom expert handpaddles", and the White Salmon would prove once again to be a sizable step up for someone so used to Fish to Bob's on the Clackamas.

This clip (at Maytag, the first rapid of the Middle White Salmon run) starts with me (background) succeeding at my second frantic roll attempt in the boils below the top drop with Luke shouting encouragement in close chase, as Ryan runs the 2nd "drop" (foreground), followed by myself and then Luke:


(Ryan, Willie, and Luke on Maytag, with handpaddles. Footage courtesy of 'Nette from Next Adventure's staff blog post.)
The run was challenging, as I don't know it very well, and line planning has to happen much earlier in each rapid when I'm in the tiny handpaddles. My focus slipped at one point, and I found myself center-broaching on a rock in the shallows, where I flipped. An advantage of the handpaddles in this situation was that I was able to crab-walk upside-down on the rocky bottom, from my back deck over to my upstream side, and roll up from there, protecting my head/shoulders/etc. from the menacingly shallow riverbed. There is probably a whole sub-sport to be had in dynamic playboat moves that incorporate the riverbed, but I'll leave that revolution to someone else. ;)

This clip of Husum has Luke crushing the tricky low-water boof, then myself, followed by Ryan, having more interesting lines. I can tell you that handrolling in froth with something smaller than a DVD case strapped to each hand is an interesting exercise. The word "swim" ran through my mind briefly when I got pulled back into the maw after my second capsize. Luckily, it was all the more easy to feel and grab the downwater for an inverted escape from the chunder zone:


(Luke, Willie, and Ryan on Husum, with handpaddles. Thanks again to 'Nette from Next Adventure for the footage!)

Oregon Kayaking: Chelan Gorge

(Entrance Exam - photo by Chris Arnold)
Chris Arnold has finally gotten his Chelan Gorge trip report up on Oregon Kayaking. There are a couple of pictures of me. I still need to finish my report for that trip, but it's getting close.

Upper Upper Cispus: Behemoth from above

I'm still pulling together media and words for my Chelan Gorge trip report, so here's a clip from a Cispus run we did in the meanwhile.


(video by Travis Lee)

White Salmon: Green Truss: another day, another cave rescue

The Green Truss in summer can be a real treat. This weekend, we had sunny weather with temperatures pushing 100 degrees F. You know it's a hot day when you can sit safety in the mist coming off Big Brother in total comfort, wearing shorts and a lightly-insulated drytop. My lines were good this weekend, so I got to be the rescuer in the scenario below.

Steve and I yard Eric out of the cave at the base of Big Brother
(photo by Chris Arnold)

Lower Wind: handpaddling Shipherd's Falls, melt line

I tried to prematurely boof a little to give my bow more downward momentum into the seam. I don't think I can get all the way under the foam pile to the downstream side without higher flows or a bunch of water in my boat. Either would be a scary proposition.


(Thanks to Ryan Young for the footage.)

Northwest Creeking Competition: East Fork Lewis River extreme race

The second year of the newly-reincarnated NW Creeking Comp went off with a bang April 11-12, 2009. The race, party, huckfest, and camaraderie were sick, as expected. The Columbian wrote an article about it, featuring a photo of me doing an old school pirouette whilst waiting at the hole by Oly's house for some other kayakers to come down:

PDXkayaker Film Fest 2008: Semi-Pro Spotlight

Luke managed to get 2nd place in last year's PDXkayaker Film Festival, with Semi-Pro Spotlight:



I shot much of the footage used in the film. Luke and I were going to co-produce our effort for the contest, but he just had more spare time in the week leading up to the contest. I'd say he represented, for sure. The Johnny Ott BZ Falls carnage clip was a huge crowd pleaser. Ahh, memories.

Pictures on Riot Team website

Luke made a trip report of a Canyon Creek (Washington) run from a couple of weeks back, and a version was posted on the Team Riot website. I'm in a few of the pictures. This one, at Big Falls a.k.a. Big Kahuna, is probably the best one:

Lake Merwin

Johnny of the lake. Test of Picasa "Blog This" feature.

Low water Green Truss

Paul, Allen, and I rallied from Portland to meet Kenny K. at BZ Corners for an afternoon Truss run. We ran into Rachel, Joe, EJ, Kate, James, etc. and got the word that the Truss was holding up relatively well for the low flow, with most of the water coming from the top instead of the aquifers. It's a trippy drainage, the White Salmon.

No swims, and decent lines were had by all. I hadn't been in the Magnum for a few weeks, so it was nice to get my boof on once again. I managed to keep my head dry the whole run, except for a quick roll at the put-in to cool off. Paul had the cleanest line at Big Brother, as Allen and I both utterly crushed our boofs -- straight into the cave. It was nice to get out on the river with Kenny, as he's coming off a long hiatus, and has just moved to White Salmon, so he's been jonesing.

White Salmon: Green Truss: two laps

After breaking camp near the put-in, I headed into town for some breakfast fare. Well-fed and full of hot coffee, I proceeded to BZ Corner to lounge in the sun and wait for boaters to show up. After a nice morning run with Lewis and his roomie Pat (who fired up both Big Brother and BZ for the first time, with good results), I hung out my gear and got back to lazing in the sun.

The PDX crew finally showed up around 3:00, and we got underway.

(More update to come. Here's a couple clips for now. Johnny exhibited his renowned brawniness on Big Brother, and I finally got a decent line on BZ Falls.)


view full screen


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Lower Wind: two laps

Met Mike Long at Lewis & Clark at 8:00 a.m. Well, 8:25, anyway. Our Little White plans were dashed by the lack of a third -- this situation owing to a misinterpreted text from Luke. I wanted a third paddler for my second time down the legendary Little White, so we opted to traipse down the Lower Wind to kill time before some Portland friends were due at the Green Truss in the afternoon.

So Mike's delightful shuttle bunny (ring and a contract) helped us set a car at the bottom, and we put on around the same time as two other groups, one of which included Jacob Cruser and even some inflatable kayaks. We charged down to Shipherd Falls, with me trying the right entry line and spending a bit of elbow time in The Flume on the way. Sometime during our five laps on the falls, the phone rang, and the word came that our friends might be running the Lower Wind instead of the Green Truss, due to time constraints.

Later, whilst we pondered the meaning of it all over a cold PBR tallboy in the hot spring near the end of the run, the phone was heard to ring once more. Verily, our brethren had congealed into a critical mass of bro-brah-ness, which was converging on our location...eventually.

We killed some time at the store in Carson, where my rash guard got left and run over. Mike owes me big for this, and try to pay his debt by loaning me a playboat that was being brought especially for him from town by our impending crew. It was a ZG or some other archaic foot torture device, so I passed. When Mike spotted the shuttle bunny driving by, we engaged in hot pursuit, cutting her off at the pass at Hot Springs Road and Hwy 14. Jess drives slow, or we'd never have caught her. Thereafter, we made our way up the hill to the takeout, getting a call from Johnny when we were 100 yards away, wondering where we were, as he had just arrived himself.

So it was that our timing was perfect, and we were grateful to be with good friends Luke, Deek, and others, for another round of Lower Wind goodness. This time held no laps of rapids or falls, nor a hot springs stop. Nonetheless, a good time was had by all, and many sick boofs were executed with cold precision, to the extent which that was possible on the only "LW" that we paddled that day.

We went our separate ways, and as dusk neared, I boogied to the vicinity of the Green Truss put-in to find a camp spot, and found a pleasant unimproved site up on a ridge to the west. It was on the border of a timber sale, and several trees had been felled to block the road, so dry wood and tinder were plentiful. I strung up a throw rope to hang gear on, gathered some wood, made a fire and a bed, ate a sandwich, washed it down with Ice Cold Beer, and settled in for a relaxing and peaceful night under the stars. Tomorrow was sure to involve the Truss, finally.

I did not take any photos or video on this day, but this video made by someone else is very cool.

Green Truss, after work

I haven't been keeping up to date on my blogging, and this entry is a partial one, but I thought I'd post something for whichever of my faithful readers have not already given up hope. I have about 35 incomplete and unpublished entries, many just standard runs and one-paragraph trip reports, but some that will be worth waiting for.

If you'd like a sneak peak at forthcoming video clips, check out my videos on Vimeo.

This entry in particular has some carnage to report, which I will do once the video is uploaded.

Luke, Tony, Ryan, and I headed up to the Green Truss for an after-work run. The recent rain had brought the level back up to just barely above 2.5 feet, by our reckoning. It was a good day.

Here is my ill-fated line on BZ Falls. I started too far left, got too far left, and caught my bow on the raspy rock face, which turned me sideways. I knew I was in for a ride when I landed in a side surf. Enjoy:

Lower Wind River

I was still reeling from my bout with food poisoning, so I took it easy with another mellow run down the Lower Wind. I ran The Flume twice again -- it's getting less fun as the water runs out. I made just one pass at Shipherd's Falls, but I nailed my lines, so I was happy with it.

Dingo Dave swam the whole way, as he embarked on his virgin riverboarding voyage on a run that was probably a bit low for such undertakings. He said he'll bring kneepads and an athletic cup next time. Since he didn't technically have an out-of-boat experience, he drank beer sweet and pure from the can it came in. The same could not be said for all of our crew...

Cory had a swim at High Bridge due to a broken paddle, followed by a swim at The Flume due to a 190cm breakdown paddle. :) Kourtni got rodeoed in the first drop of Shipherd's before punching and earning a booty beer. The hot springs on river left below Shipherd's Falls make a cozy setting for keeping the booty beer tradition alive -- watch as Cory and Kourtni keep their river karma positive:



To Kourtni's credit, she hiked back up and ran the drop cleanly to make good on it:

Gorge Games on the White Salmon: safety, Truss, and Middle

Arriving at BZ Corner at 8:05 a.m., I found that I was the only safety boater there, so I chatted with Nate, Heather, and Austin for a while until more folks arrived. Our celebrity safety coordinator Sam showed up at 8:35 or so, and we soon had a critical mass of safety boaters, so we made ready to head up. On the way up to the put-in, one of the many unsecured kayaks in the trailer of the shuttle rig blew out and onto the road, bouncing and skidding to a halt. Luckily, it was a rental, demo, or somesuch.

This marked the first time I didn't use a rope to put on the Truss (and my second time ever on the Truss), which was a good experience. Takes more effort per paddler, but is so much more time-efficient. My safety assignment was Big Brother, and I ended up serving as secondary cave roper for the day, behind the big cannon rope-launching machine known as Luke Spencer. Ryan Youngs and Turin were on river left at the top of the falls with me most of the day, along with a videographer for Fox Sports News. Luckily, Garreth had volunteered to be the dope-on-a-rope, so he got to hang out in the shivering mist at the base of the falls all day, and spare us the suffering.

About half the racers went into the cave at the base of the falls, surprisingly, including local favorite Todd Anderson, who showed clear frustration at his less-than-optimal line. Luckily, there were no swimmers out of the cave. In fact, we had only one swimmer all day -- Dr. Greg had the best line of the day on the drop itself, but got worked against the right wall soon after. After a couple of attempts at rolling on either side, he punched. It was then that we realized there was no one in a boat at the bottom of Big Brother, which we rapidly remedied. Fortunately, his gear was gathered at Double Drop, though we really should have had a better plan to begin with, Sam. After the race was done, we packed up and fired up the rest of the run, after helping folks ferry equipment back across the river. It takes balls of steel to kayak a $10,000 video camera across the river without a sprayskirt, I should think.

Luke fired up the center flake and styled it, airing out at an angle and lightly touching down on the downflow on the face of the manky left side of the falls. He pulled his bow up a bit at the last second and greased across the pile, marking the fastest line I saw all day, and plenty of reason for the other racers to be glad he was on safety and not stealing their thunder. For my part, I caught both the flake and the boof stroke, and aired it good into the pile, landing with 10-15 degrees of upward bow angle. It felt really solid, and I think it was an improvement over my first line down this drop last year. The rest of the run was great. Only Johnny Ott had the cajones to fire up BZ Falls on this day, and he had to fight the tractor beam on the left for a bit before it mercifully let him go.

After we took out at BZ, we enjoyed watching the boatercross competition. Gorge Games staff stopped people from walking down the the shore to spectate after some arbitrary number had already gone down, so it was none too crowded. I only wish that dog would not have licked the scab on my leg quite so much. Here's a brief clip of Tao winning one of his heats:



After the boatercross, as the awards ceremony was starting, I got propositioned for a quick run down the middle section (BZ to Husum), and happily accepted, as they needed another safety boater for the crew. The six (?) of us had an uneventful run, with just one brief and painless swim. Luckily, Miss Adams had been saying at last week's Carnage Run that she was fully qualified to drink booty beers, having solidified her combat roll. I was happy to hold her to it:



She did us proud. If you're wondering -- yes, the booty beer is one of my favorite traditions in kayaking.

I ended up camping out up at Trout Lake with a bunch of PDX Kayakers and new friends, shutting down the campfire with Drs. Dey and Boyok. It was a good day.

You can read Luke's Gorge Games reports here and here.

White Salmon: the Farmlands

Hit the Farmlands at just below 4ft on the Husum gauge with Tony Bizone, Joe Stumpfel, and Allen Satcher. This was my first time down, but I can see why they say this is the perfect level for the Farmlands.

Sidewinder is the first big drop on this section:



After some generic Class III-IV rapids, paddlers come to Lava Falls:



Joe Stumpfel making Lava Falls pay (he was a hair right of where he wanted to be, forward to 0:48 for the action, I was too lazy to edit):



Tony Bizone killing it on Lava Falls (he was two hairs left of where he wanted to be):


Off Ramp is the last of the major drops on this section:



I boated well this day, with a flip and snap roll near the undercut on Sidewinder being the lowlight. The more I boat the Riot Magnum 80, the more I like it.

East Fork Lewis run, testing the Magnum 80

With a freshly-broken MAC-1 and a Cali creeking trip coming up, I find myself in the market for a new boat. I grabbed Next Adventure's demo of the Riot Magnum 80 and headed out to Oly's after work for a demo run from above Sunset Falls to his place.

I like this boat! It punches holes extremely well, and resurfaces predictably. While it doesn't hold speed well, it tracks to a line while also turning easily. I feel like the slight V-hull at the stern makes the rear-end more stable and the boat easier to boof. This will be my boat for the Cali Gnarr Creeking Roadtrip 2008. Big thanks to Luke and Deek at Next Adventure for working with me to get into it on such short notice.

On the way to Oly's I ran into the folks with the mongo conversion van and a bunch of Pyranha boats. I said high again, and continued up the road. As Brenda was shuttling Oly and I up to the put-in in her sweet Model A Ford, we ran into them again -- they were headed to Oly's to camp for the night. We doubled back, Oly gave them a quick tour and a bottle of wine, and we were back underway. After the run, I got to hang and chat with these two lovely North Cackalackans (pretty sure that's how you spell it). It was Leland Davis and Andria Baldovin, of River Gypsies. Leland wrote the flyfishing and paddling guidebooks for North Carolina, and Andria is behind the Yoga for Paddlers DVD, among others. Dang, they are nice people! Hoping to meet up with them again for some boating when they swing back through Washington after their British Columbia leg. It's very inspirational to see people making whitewater work well enough for them that they can be on the road for 6 months out of the year. Someday...

Canyon Creek Washington, in a Scud

Ryan Y. and I took Paul M. down Canyon Creek for his personal first descent. He ended up sideways and/or upside-down in a couple of the drops, but for a first run, I've got to say he styled it.

I demoed Luke's Bliss-Stick Scud, and found it to be great fun. It doesn't punch, track, or hold speed well, but it steers and boofs like a crazy mamma-jamma and I can bow stall it in flat water. It's the best 66-gallon playboat (er, creekboat?) I've ever paddled. ;) I'd like to own one someday for tight creeks and various dicking around.

We ran into some folks in a mongo conversion van with 7 boats on it, but didn't interact beyond a few polite helloes, at least on this day. (Ooh, the foreshadowing!) The weather was in the mid-70s and the level was about 6 inches below the unit -- perfect for a first time descent! I'm hoping this run will have enough water left in it when I get back from the upcoming Cali Gnarr Creeking Roadtrip 2008. More to come on that.

Falls Creek: I'm a lumberjack, and I'm okay

Falls Creek is a tributary of the Wind River in Washington. What a hike, what a massive waterfall, what wood removal work, and what a sick slide! More to come...

(photo courtesy of Oregon Kayaking)