Gripped on class II

Sunday, January 24th, 2010

E. Frk. Humptulips Narrows 1400 CFS
Class II (IV)
5.0 Miles

On Saturday Kris and I had decided that we wanted to paddle our C-1's (The technical terminology used to refer to canoes in white water, C-1: one person decked canoe, OC-1: single person open deck canoe Etc.) , and Ben and his Girlfriend Shawna who had been in jP's group were going to join us. Kris and I are both novice canoers, but we're good whitewater folks so we weren't too nervous about the potential for swimming in a class II section of river. Ben would be in a kayak and so would Shawna, so they can look out for us if need be, at the very least they can pick up our paddles for us. So we thought.

We were slow going in the morning and didn't leave Kris' until noon, and by the time we had finished shuttle, and geared up it was already 2pm. "No worries" I thought, "still plenty of time to make it down this five mile section before dark". I took plenty of time to stretch my legs and warm up before I squeezed myself into the cramped C-1. We peeled out and I quickly grew accustomed to the single blade and high center of gravity, right up to the point when I flipped over in a slow moving pool. Luckily I was able to orient myself and roll the boat up with limited difficulty. At this point We could still see the put-in beach. My confidence was a little shaken.
The group began to make it's way down stream, and as we moved towards the gorge it became apparent that Shawna was not a competent class II paddler, in reality she was an introductory paddler, still not versed in the world of whitewater. She swam before we arrived at the first gorge. At this point I was feeling confident that I wasn't going to need saving, but was also aware that if I did swim I would need to clean up my own mess. Ben and Shawna were playing a game of "I'll yell where to go and you do your best to go there" and "I'm going to follow you so close that I hit the back of your boat". She was gripped, white-knuckle, tunnel vision, hyperventilating GRIPPED. So Kris and I would paddle ahead and point out the lines, and set safety for the nervous wreck that was barreling down the river behind us yelling "where do I go now" repeatedly, and "is that the last rapid" in the flat pools at the bottom of rapids. And the whole time Ben was so preoccupied with Shawna that it almost felt like we were on separate trips.

Everything went surprisingly well despite the two man circus behind us. We portaged around the unrunnable entrance rapid to the gorge, and then picked out way down to the landslide rapid that designates the end of the gorge and the last half mile of river. The landslide had fallen into the left side of the river at some point last year and had created a jumble of large boulders and aggregate in the river. There is a line down the right side of the rapid, a steep three foot ledge, initially I was going to walk this rapid, but when Kris (a less experienced C-1'er than myself) said he was going to give it a go, I had to run it as a matter of pride. Chris had some trouble in the swift water leading up to the drop, but came out upright. I paddled aggressively up to the lip, gave it my best boof stroke, landed in the confused water, broached and flipped. I flushed down stream into the pool, set up for my roll, and nailed it first time. WHOOOHOOO!
I had been telling Shawna that the landslide was the end of the big rapids, but my memory had deceived me had two of the most technical rapids of the day that guarded the take out. In the longest rapid, I took my first swim in a while. The entrance was a tricky reactionary wave with lots of confused water below it. I boofed the first ledge and then hit a strong eddy line, flipped and began to attempt my roll. After some monkeying around under the water I conceded to the fact that there was stuff down stream that I needed to be right side up as I passed by it, so I pulled my skirt, undid my thigh straps and swam out of my boat. I popped up and grabbed the stern loop and paddle and attempted to swim away from Woody Harrelson hanging out in the river. I was approaching the innocuous piece of wood and not making a distance with the paddle and boat in my hands. So at the last moment I ditched them both and swam around Woody. Once below I cleaned up my yard sale and swam into an eddy on river right. The $500.00 I spent on the dry suit were well worth it. I climbed out of the water with a bruised, but dry ego. Unfortunately my swim had prompted Shawna to walk to the drop, so this took a bit more time out of our already waining light.
Once we were all back in our boats we paddled the three hundred yards or so down to the bridge. By now Shawna was exhausted because her adrenaline gland had been pumping at 200 percent capacity for the past three hours. I've never seen someone so stoked to be done with a river trip. It was a gripped day on class II, Shawna was gripped for lack of knowledge and skill, Kris and I were gripped because of a lack of skill, and Ben was gripped because he knew that if this trip went badly he might not have a girlfriend on Monday morning. You can't buy that kind of fun.

Scraping Down The Satsop

Saturday, January 23rd, 2010

W. Frk. Satsop, 2400 CFS

Class IV

4.0 Miles

This Saturday Kris, Chip, Jon, Dan, and I made a trip down the West Fork of the Satsop Gorge, a short stretch that contained two walled in gorges and class IV water. Chip and Jon picked me up in Oly and we rallied over to Kris's for a cup of coffee and to load kayaks into and onto trucks. We worked out the logistics and began driving the hour-or-so north to the river. We wound our way through clear cuts and bumpy forest service roads in search of the take-out. At the take-out bridge we checked the visual gauge and discovered that the water was going to be lower than anyone in the group had run it before, but after driving all the way out here we felt it was still our best option. We were going to help with river bed erosion as we scraped our way downstream.

After running shuttle we began the usual slog through ferns, devils club, and deadfall, down steep and loose slopes to the rivers edge. The first mile or so consisted of class I and II shoals and maneuvering around and away from fallen trees. The gorge appeared very suddenly, walls closed in and the first horizon line of the day reared its head. We scouted along the left shore and were presented with a straightforward class IV rapid, the lead-in was obscured by trees hanging low in the water but were easy to avoid. The first drop was a S-turn in front of and then behind a large boulder in the middle of the current. Below this boulder was a very narrow gorge, perhaps 6-7 feet wide with fast moving current, the exit of this gorge was obscured by a log that we ducked under the right side of. From here there was several hundred yards of class III until our next horizon line.

Kris scouted from the right side, but unfortunately there was not enough room for the rest of us to get into the eddy. Chip scouted from river left as well while Ben, Jon and I waited in some eddies upstream. Kris and Chip scouted for a long time, scrambling and looking at the rapid from all angles. I was becoming increasingly uneasy about the rapid due to the amount of time they spent looking at the drop. Eventually Kris gave us the Thumbs Up, pointing to the middle of the first ledge then pointing left. I didn't particularly like this but trusted my friends and dropped in. The rapid turned out to be a double ledge, followed by a narrow gorge with some wood hanging into the river.

From here we exited the first gorge and quickly entered the second gorge. The first big rapid of this gorge was a mandatory portage, a large rootball obscured the left side of the entrance and water was flushing through and around this. Below the initial wood was even more wood that was piled 10-15 feet above the water level. The drop looked like it might be runnable without Woody Harrelson parked in it, but there was so much water flowing into the pile that it wasn't a viable option. We portaged along the top of the pile, carfully walking along large trees, passing the boats to each other in a chain until we could get back to river level. There were times where I was standing on gravel that high water events had deposited in the pile creating a cement-like substance. We all took our time getting back to river level and climbed back into our boats incident free.

Below this rapid the riverbed became much steeper and more continuous. Due to the low water there was some less-than-ideal lines we had to make, paddling close to wood and rocks that had a pinning potential. After about a mile of this the river slowed down and we eventually came around the corner and saw the bridge. We climbed the steep bank up to the river and to the cars.

Behind our group was my Friends jP, Brian, Nick and others that had joined them. We all hung out on the bridge and enjoyed the warm weather, partly sunny skies, and our Pabst Blue Ribbons. Not a bad way to spend a day on the water.

The Whole Kit and Kaboodle

Saturday, January 16th 2010
Upper, Middle, and Lower Matheny River 15,800cfs On the Queets river guage

Class IV+

13.2 Miles

This Saturday the guys and I were able to run a section of river that has been on the Hit List since the first day of the winter season. The upper section of Matheny Creek, a class IV+ section of whitewater that consists of bedrock ledges and rapids. We have paddled the Middle and Lower sections of river already this season and were anxious to paddle the upper so we could have a complete run of all the navigable sections of Matheny.

To access the river we would have to paddle a steep, narrow, continuous, and wood choked tributary that I believe is called Hook Branch Creek. After a quick scramble down to water level

we scouted the first bend and began our way

downstream. I peeled out first and began to bump, scrape, and push my way down the low flow creek until I could find the next eddy and wait for the rest of the group. We all took turns leading and scouting our way down the creek, I portaged once on this section due to a tree that because of my height would have given me a nasty case of missing teeth, but the rest of the group was able to duck there way underneath. After more boogie-water and boat scraping we arrived at another wood obstruction. A 15 foot tall logjam that obscured the left side of the river, with a narrow slot around it all. The line was kinda sketchy; paddling from left to right in front of the jam, then taking a 90 degree left turn around a lincoln log sticking out of the side, then staying right away from the mess. Initially I was planning on walking the rapid but Brian informed me that the portage was likely just as dangerous. So I took a deep breath, and made the move, it all went fine and we had clean lines.

After this jam we came to the confluence with Matheny proper. We had several hundred yards of flatwater before we came to our first rapid, a class IV ledge with a significant hole at the bottom. Arron scouted the drop and pointed us toward the left hand side of the drop, "with speed, and Boof". I went first and had a solid line, Brian, Chris and Arron followed and also had clean lines. Further down stream we arrived at another class IV ledge called "log boof". The ledge is created by two large trees that have blocked the channel and created a uniform ledge. We all charged it and came out clean.

Beyond this rapid we had about a mile an a half of flatwater through a pristine and picturesque gorge, sheer walls surrounded us on either side covered with moss, ferns and large trees that are destined to end up in the river. After the flatwater things started to get steeper, this is also where I have trouble remembering the chronology of events.

We approached a rapid that was created by large logs that had fallen in the river, a root-wad, and other detritus that had become clogged in the tangle of wood. Brian scouted and pointed to the middle slot, Chris and Arron had clean lines because they had caught a high eddy and were able to come into the drop with speed, but Brian and I had caught a low eddy and entered slowly. Both of us had the same thing happen, we were slowed up on the root wad and wanted to pin but somehow slid off of it.

The last big drop of the day was a 8-9 foot ledge that was split into two channels, the right had 5/6th of the water going over it and the left had the remainder. Arron and Chris were on the ledge and pointed for Brian and I to run the left slot. "Hit the middle of the roostertail" Chris instructed. Meanwhile I was sitting in a squirrelly eddy jockeying for position while trying to look at the drop. Once I got my bearings I peeled out and lined up for the slot. As I made my move to

the lip, I hit a small hole that slowed me down and surfed me to the right slightly, at the same time the eddy line grabbed at my right stern rail and attempted to flip me. I braced hard, righted myself, and was pushed into the rock outcropping that created the two channels. I pushed off with my elbow and lined up for the slot, slid over, plugged the hole at the bottom and did a nuclear tail stand out of the hole (Tailstand: bow pointing in the air, stern pointing toward the briny deep), braced and kept it smiling side up. I looked back at Chris who's eyes were as big as mine.

Brian went next followed by Arron, Chris came last and plugged the hole and caught a surf at the bottom for a few moments until he was able to find some green water and paddle out. From here on the rapids changed in characteristic, they became more like rapids than ledges. We paddled and scouted our way down the river, surfing the occasional wave and taking in this beautiful spot that we had all to ourselves. Our own personal playground in the middle of the Olympic Peninsula.

Once we passed under the first bridge we entered the middle section of the Matheny, mostly class II and III rapids. This section also had the only mandatory portage of the day which is a miracle in itself for the OP. We paddled hard to make mileage and ensure that we would have enough light to complete the lower section.

At the bridge above the lower we stopped to ensure we all felt good to do the remainder of the river. It's only a 2.5 mi. section but it also has the biggest rapids with the most volume. During the upper section of the trip there was a small tributary spilling into the creek around every corner, at some points there were creeks flowing in from both sides.

For the past several days I had been coming down with a throat sickness of sorts, but it hadn't been affecting my paddling. But by now we had already covered a solid 11 miles and I was starting to feel it, but I felt good enough to keep going. We dropped into the lower and made it through the first of the two gorges without any trouble. As we entered bowling ball I was in the back of the group and trying to catch up. Bowling ball is full of reactionary waves that hit the walls and create these diagonal walls of water that push toward the center of the river. I entered and was doing fine, but at the bottom third of the rapid I was slapped by one of the large reactionaries, I braced, but to no avail. I set up for my roll felt my boat go into a hole and was peeled back, set up again and rolled. I rolled up panting and off line, as I attempted to get back where I wanted to be I lazily dropped into a hole and the next thing I new I was side surfing. "Not now, I'm too tired for this" I thought to myself. I leaned hard on my downstream paddle and began to get my bearings and attempt to find a way out of this inconvenience. After some wrangling I managed to get my bow in some greenwater that pulled my bow downstream and away from the hole that was trying to swim me.

From here we were almost done, all that was left was paddling past the wall of death (a 40 foot tall crumbling sedimentary wall with trees and bushes threatening to fall into our laps). At the take out Arron's girlfriend was waiting with the car. We undressed, loaded up the boats, and drank a beer to a good day on the water. Chris couldn't stop talking about how we only had one mandatory portage. We all joked and talked incessantly about the river and what had unfolded during the day. I felt bad for Arron's girlfriend for having to listen to us.

Source to Sea

Saturday, January 9th 2010
Dosewallips River, bankfull
Class II-IV
11.7 miles

Welcome back! This is my first post of 2010, and my first river trip of the year. On Friday night Chip and I had made plans to paddle the N. Frk. Tilton, or Yellowjacket creek, but due to the fickle nature of weather systems the rain just didn't go where we had planned. So Chip, Jon, jP and I made a last minute change and decided to paddle on the Eastside of the Oylmpic Peninsula north of Hoodsport. The river that was in our range was the Dosewallips river (pronounced Doe-see-wal-lips), a class II-IV river.
The logistics were easy, drive up Dosewallips Rd. until we arrived at a washout, park the car and hike a short trail around the washout to the put-in. Sounds easy, right? Well like always it ended up being slightly more difficult than we had imagined. We parked the car at the Dosewallips park, where the river flows into Hood Canal, changed into our drysuits, and started driving to the put-in. When we were within a mile of the put-in we arrived at a new washout, but luckily one that could be easily driven through, a bit nerve wracking, but easy enough. After doing a bit of road grading and strategic moving of rocks and aggregate we were back in the car and driving to the top.
At the put-in as we unloaded boats, gear, dogs and girlfriends I discovered a crack in Jons boat.
Me (as I pulled down Jon's boat): "That sucks man, how'd you get that crack"?
Jon: "Crack"!?
Me: "Oooooh, sorry, figured you knew"
Of course the crack was in an inconvenient spot, beneath the seat. So we busted out the Multitools and Swiss Army Knives and began moving the seat, and applying a temporary Duct tape patch to the inside of the hull. "This isn't going to keep me dry" Jon proclaimed, "it might" I replyed with the most supportive voice I could muster.
After fixing everything we loaded our boats onto our shoulder and began the relatively easy one-mile-or-so hike up and around to the road again. The trail was a well maintained and steep, with switchbacks comparable to the French Pyrenees. Once back on the Forest Service Rd. we walked to the first rapid that was a solid class IV called "The Maze".
As soon as I looked at it I didn't have a good feeling about it. The moves were well within my skill level but the consequences were not to my liking. The main line at the bottom of the rapid was obscured by a significant amount of wood, four or five trees creating a spider web of pain. There was a line to the right of all of this, but failure to execute the move would have resulted in an elevated blood pressure that I simply did not want any part of. About 4/5ths of the water was pushing toward the woody feature and getting to the good water was going to be troublesome, so Jon, Chip, and I opted to walk the drop and set safety for jP. JP ran it with style, and we continued our way down stream.
After this rapid the river calmed down significantly, turning into class II wave trains, and the occasional hole. For the next nine or so miles the nature of the river consisted of Class II wave trains punctuated every mile or so with a class III rapid. The class III's were all easily boat scoutable and fun. The weather was ideal for paddling, and actually unseasonably warm, about 50-60 degrees, with partly blue skies and the occasional sunny patch. Over the course of the run we ran into two wood portages in class II rapids, easy to walk around and more inconvenient than dangerous.
Before we reached Hood Canal there was a short gorge that was really spectacular, about a 1/4 mile long with 3 or so S-turns that created cool caves and swirly water and had two class III rapids in them. This trip was also the first time I have paddled a river that lead into the sea (technically Puget Sound, but it was salt water). We all agreed that it was pretty cool just having the opportunity to do something like that. As we spilled out into the Canal there were several Bald Eagles perched on drift wood eating something they had most likely stolen from another predator. Despite their dumb nature they sure are good lookin' birds.
All-in-all it was a really fun trip with a good group of guys, the river was really low key but the atmosphere of the trip made up for that. I don't think I'll go back to the Dosewallips river again anytime soon, but I'm glad that we went. I was able to start off the new year with a Personal First Decent, not bad.