California 2005
By the time Dan and I loaded up the car to paddle the Skykomish, we both knew that we were going to need a trailer for the minivan. With just the two of us (and two boats a piece), all of our gear, and the bike the van was already loaded to what seemed maximum capacity. Looking back over the piles of boating gear and miscellaneous crap, we knew that fitting three other guys, their boats, and all their gear would be near-impossible. Even if we managed it, it was sure to be the most uncomfortable 12 hours of our life on the long drive from Seattle to Northern California. We knew that something would have to be done, however, and quickly. Two more members of our “posse” would be arriving the next day, and the last two days later in Portland, OR.
The final solution—which we ended up figuring out the next day—involved a jury-rigged, 7 foot long wooden rack on top of the car, and a not-sleek 4x8 trailer that we rented from Uhaul. The trailer was the hardest part of the equation to figure out—after Dan spoke to 5 or 6 different Uhaul locations throughout the Northwest in order to try to find their 4x6 trailer (the cheapest one they had), and after being denied at each location, I finally decided that I would try a last ditch attempt with the Uhaul main office. My plan was to accuse them of pulling a bait and switch, go ballistic, and then end by threatening to report them to the Better Business Bureau before I hung up. Instead, I had a nice conversation with Cheryl, who eventually melted under my boyish charm and agreed to rent us the 4x8 trailer for the price of the 4x6.
And that’s how we found ourselves, on the morning of March 13th, loading up the trailer, hitching it to the van, and striking out for California.
Loading up and heading out, Elliot, Pat and Dan (l-r) tie down a whole mess of boats to a couple of 2 x 3's and some bailing wire!
There were five members of our group, all of us affiliated with Bowdoin College. Dan, Will Stetler, and myself were all classmates and roommates who graduated last May. Pat Hughes is a senior this year, and the youngin of the group, Dan McGrath, is a junior. Pat and Dan McGrath were both on their spring break, while Dan Abraham, Will Stetler and myself were all taking a two-week vacation from work or unemployment to head down to the promised land of California.
The White Salmon, 5/13 and 5/14
After paddling the Skykomish River (my home run here in Seattle), we headed south and paddled the lower part of the White Salmon.
Dan having some fun on the Split-Rock Wave on the Skykomish River, WA
Can't escape the windowshape, Skykomish RIver, WA
Dan M on the Oregon Salmon, doing a past vertical wavewheel/inverted kickflip/tip over manuever... very complicated, I wouldn't bother trying to learn it.
It was a fun warm-up run—we tried out new creekboats and playboats, and the contingent from Maine got used to being back on the water after suffering through the winter that never really came here in Washington. The White Salmon is a beautiful river. In its most striking parts, it comes churning through a high-walled canyon, filled with fast moving and relatively easy class III rapids. We boat scouted all of the rapids, and made it off the river just in time to go catch a quick dinner at a deceivingly cheap-looking diner. The food ended up being poor quality, but they made up for it by serving us incredibly small portions. Needless to say, when we finally made camp, we broke out the beers and snacks and spent our first night outside under the perfectly clear, cold skies.
The next day, we woke up early, and Dan McGrath, Pat and myself took another quick run on the White Salmon. Dan Abraham, entranced by the rugged-looking hair boaters who were paddling the upper section, walked up to the Upper White Salmon and took a look at some of the steeper drops to check out on way back North.
We drove from the White Salmon down to Portland and made it to the airport in plenty of time to pick up Will, the final member of our group.
Will (in the jeans) doing what he loves most!
Dan and Dan went in to the terminal to wait for him, and left Pat and myself in airport purgatory, making the loop around the departures area over and over in a loaded and already-smelly minivan. Pat and I managed to amuse ourselves by stopping in random places to pretend to check the boats, and generally just pissing off the other motorists.
Finally, we got Will in the van and headed to Alder Creek Kayak Shop, where Will picked up the Dagger Mamba that he had rented for the week. The guy at the shop had some really helpful advice for Will on using his boat—“Well, it’s a Dagger, you know?” With those words of wisdom, we headed for our last logistical stop—Mike Northrop’s house, to pick up two more boats. Mike’s parents weren’t home when we arrived, so we hung out in his driveway for awhile, thinking of creative ways of breaking into the garage to pick up the boat. Before we did any serious damage, though, Mike’s dad arrived and opened it for us. We picked up Mike’s Diesel and ZG (the last two boats), bought some groceries, and then started driving. Our final list of boats included a creeker and playboat for almost everyone: we had a Diesel, a Gus, an H2, an Embudo, and the Mamba, as well as two ZG 54’s, a ZG 48, and a S6F. With the five boats on the top, and the trailer, I think that, for the first time in my life, my minivan was almost cool.
That night we drove down to the Smith River, with a substantial and incredibly frustrating detour up and back down a mountain pass that still hadn’t been plowed. By the time we got in that night, hungry and tired of driving, I think that we were all thinking the same thing: “I could kill everyone, sell their boats, and head for Mexico.”
Smith River, 5/15
Fortunately, after a night of sleep, we were ready to take on our first California River. We drove our shuttle up to the put in for the class III-ish Smith River, and were blown away.
Put in for the South Fork of the Smith, CA
For all the pictures that you see of California Rivers, I think that you can’t really accept in your head that such a place really exists. Beautiful green pools of water, sunny skies, and complete isolation met us as we started down the river.
Crystal clear water, sunny skies, no one in sight. It really doesnt get any better!
Will was getting back into the swing of boating, and the rest of us were absolutely loving the fun, bouncy drops and the deep, incredibly clear pools. We made good time down the river, and arrived at the end of the class III section, and the beginning of the class V Smith River Gorge, by 3:30 or so.
After three years away from boating, Will was hitting cleaner lines than the rest of us
We had looked at the gorge as we were running shuttle. The water was low, and so we didn’t think that it would be a true class V, and all of the drops looked scoutable and walkable, so we decided to give it a shot. Since it was Will’s first day back in a boat, after a long flight, he decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and he got my ridiculously oversized bike and went to go get the car. Dan, Pat, Dan and myself spent about 2 and ½ hours paddling the rest of the mile long gorge. We scouted almost all of the drops, and all of us except Dan Abraham ended up walking one.
Scouting in Smith River gorge
The drop in question was a steep, rocky lead up into a ledge hole that just looked gnarly. Dan Abraham was itching to get on the harder stuff, and so the rest of us decided to do Dan a favor and let him probe the rapid. Dan pulled out of the eddy and made a strong entry into the rapid. The best line, we had all decided, was far, far right, almost to the point of hugging the right wall. Dan made a great entry, but got moved towards the middle by a reactionary wave, and was about four feet too far to the left by the time he hit the hole.
It was all going good until right about now. Dan A pretty much dove straight into the pourover coming off of the river left wall, and the whole thing is backed up by a nice submergered rock just downstream!
All 7 feet of his boat absolutely disappeared into the hole, and Pat and Dan and I looked at each other like, “shit, now what?” Dan’s boat popped up again just beyond the boil line, and Dan threw in a lightning fast back-deck roll. His head poked above the water, he took a quick look around, and went right back over. He waited a second before rolling again, but that time underwater was just enough to get some green water and move him away from the hole. Dan, Pat and I all looked at each other and we had each clearly decided that this would be a good time to get a little leg workout. Dan Abraham yelled up, asking if anyone else was going to run the rapid. I made little walking fingers with my hands and went and shouldered my boat for the portage over the slick rocks.
That was the only really significant rapid in the gorge, though there were some that required a strong boof to avoid some larger holes.
Said "boof" drop
It was on one of these rapids that Dan McGrath coined the line of the day—“yeah, I forgot to boof.”
Elliot remebers to boof (taken from a above)
...but Dan forgot!
A nice tight slot on the Smith River gorge, both Elliot and Dan Amanaged to tear a whole in their sprayskirts on this one
All the rapids were super-fun drops, and by the time that we met up with Will we were all smiling and stoked about our time on the river. The take-out was an impossibly beautiful bridge across the river, and we loaded up the car, and headed for Crescent City.
Up next, the Cal Salmon!
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