Ohane calling

Monday March 22nd 2010

Ohanepecosh River 900 cfs

Class IV-V

4.5 Miles

Sunday night after arriving back in Olympia from the Wind River Race I received a phone call while hanging up my wet gear in the garage. It was Kris and he was itching to get on the water, I was on spring break but he was coming up on finals week and felt the pressure and was looking to blow off some steam on the water. I had been taking about getting on the Ohanepecosh (pronounced Oh-Hanee-pekosh) river, a beautiful class IV-V run located near the base of Mt. Rainier. So after some chit-chat on the phone it was settled that Kris, Jared and I would be going to the Ohane the next morning.

Feeling small on the Ohane

Monday morning I met Kris near his house in Montesano and we started rolling south; one step at a time. We had to do some back tracking and errands before we could really hit the dusty trail, and by the time we arrived at Jared house it was pushing 11:30 am, a little later than I would have liked but we were still doing well on time. At Jared's we picked up him and his bike so we could run a bike shuttle to avoid taking two cars out there for just three people.

The drive out there was beautiful, mostly sunny, about 60 degrees with the occasional sun-shower. At the put-in we suited up and clambered down to the river. As I picked up my boat I started to get the pre-trip nerves, and had to do some breathing exercises to cool myself down a bit. Once in my boat I splashed some water in my face and began to float down stream behind Kris and Jared. Both of them have been down this stretch quite a bit before so I was confident taking verbal beta from them and following their lines down the river.

Feeling REALLY small on the Ohane

Shortly after getting on the water the Ohane rears its teeth, the river notches up and drops through a narrow slot and over a 6-8 foot ledge, that pushes up against the wall at the bottom. I charged from right to left and came flying off the lip, landing in the narrow turbulent pool below. By now I had worked out the pre-trip butterflies and am feeling good, the clean line at the first big drop gave me confidence.

After some boulder gardens we came to the next big horizon line, a cascading drop that consists of three powerful holes that threaten to surf unwitting paddlers. Kris and Jared led down, as I dropped into the rapid I saw Jared flip and begin surfing in the bottom ledge. Being already committed Jared became another obstacle to miss on my way to the bottom of the rapid. I had a good line all the way down and narrowly missed Jared with the bow of my boat. Once all clear we continued moving down stream.

Easy portage

The conditions couldn't have been better, the midday sun shined through the trees and pierced the crystaline waters. Even in it's deepest spots the riverbed was still visible, the water was so clean and clear that no fish would have survived, osprey and eagles would make short order of the fish population.

After many quality rapids we came to "summer creek ledge", a class III+ rapid that leads into a 10 foot river wide ledge, in all it's a IV+ rapid. "Just make sure your on the right side of the ledge" Kris instructed. From the eddy above I watched Kris and Jared go over the horizon line next to the river-right wall, I decided that I would try and find more water nearer to the center of the ledge, and did it pay off! After coming through the lead in I set myself up moving to the spot on the ledge I liked best, paddling with speed, planted my boof stroke on the lip and pulled the trigger. As I landed my boat made the perfect "Boof" sound, it was awesome. Some times in white water you run a drop that just puts a smile on your face, and this was one of them. So satisfying, everything went as I wanted it too; lining up, seeing where to plant the stroke, spotting your landing, and then airing it out like the Sunday wash on the clothes line. As I looked up and saw my friends sitting there, they were all smiles too. I gave an obligatory fist pump in the sky and we moved on down stream.

Below this rapid was a significant portage up and around an ugly rapid called "elbow room", a narrow boxed-in rapid with a fair portion of the river going underneath a slab of rock in the middle of the river. We approached this rapid with the knowledge that we wouldn't be running it, so scouting it was more fun because it lacked the nerves that come with scouting a big drop. The hike around it was manageable but hard, steep with thick underbrush and loose rock once back at the rivers edge. Once finished I was glad to have that piece of work said and done with.

Looking down on "elbow room"

On this trip I ran the biggest vertical drop of my paddling career; "Ohane falls". Ohane is a two tiered drop, the first a sliding drop with a mean hole at the bottom followed by a 15-20 foot water fall that is split, the majority of the current going down the left side and a trickle going down the right. Here we decided to run safety as we ran it one at a time, the prospect of swimming over the falls because of the first hole was a scary thought. Kris went first and had a really good line, flying over the hole and setting up well for the falls. Jared followed and had a less clean line at the first drop, getting wheelied by the hole, but had the best line at the falls. I ran last, and had a good enough line in the first drop, ending up a little closer to the middle of the hole than I wanted, but came out fine, the falls didn't go as well though. I got spun sideways by a rock under the water and went off the second falls completely sideways, landing flat on my ass in the pool below. I look up to see Kris peering over the ledge with a concerned look on his face, I gave him the all clear sign and looked at Jared who was having a nice chuckle to himself in the river.

Second drop of "Ohane falls"

The following drop Jared and I ran the sneak line because the meat looked a little above my pay grade; three large hole that were stacked above a significantly undercut rock. Kris ran the meat while I sat on shore with a rope, he came out of the second drop in an atomic wheelie. Once he put it down we looked at each other with wide-eyed-amazement that he hadn't backendered into the hole. The sneak was a bit low, but the third drop was really fun, a sweeping airplane turn that rides up on a rock and sweeps down into the river, super fun.

Enjoying a beautiful day in the Northwest

The rest of the trip was class II and flat water, a truly awesome river to run. We made our way down to the car and relaxed in the waining afternoon sun. Daylight savings time made our late start manageable, taking off the river with daylight to spare. It didn't seem like anything could go wrong until Kris got pulled over by a state trooper on the way home, 69 in a 60. Bummer.

Spring Break TwentyTen

Saturday March 20th 2010

Wind River 4.65 feet

Class IV-V

6 Miles

The first weekend of my spring break falls on the Wind River Race and Festival, a sweet way to start off the break from school. I dragged myself out of bed at 5:30 am and started driving south toward the Columbia River Gorge and fun. I met some of my buddies down there and ran into some others that I haven't seen in a while. The drive in the early morning darkness was really nice, no people on the road, just me the radio, and the rising sun.

At the "festival ground" (a rental property that makes Iron Mountain look like a brand new house) John, Chip, and Franz Horner and I met in the parking lot and spent about an hour just hanging out and talking about whitewater, telling jokes, and lies. After a bit we geared up and started motivating towards the water. By the time we got on the water the group had grown to a large posse. The first 1/4 mile is all flat water, and then the first rapid comes and we drop off the face of the earth. After cramming down through the first rapid with the huge group I signaled John and chip so that we could separate and avoid the traffic jam from occurring again.

The river was super fun, continuous class IV boulder-gardens and ledges, fun moves and satisfying rapids. We boat scouted the whole run except for a rapid named rams horn, a large series of holes in the middle of the river that you sneak by on the left. It went well for everyone, and we continued our way downstream.

The weather was very spring like, which makes sense because it was the first day of spring. Sunny, warm and generally nice out. We took our time the rest of the trip, stopping for a bit to sit in the sun, drink water and eat a snack. This day was one of the best days I'd had on the water in a while, my confidence was up, I felt good and I was with good friends.

Once off the water we got into dry clothes and got the party started, the best part about festivals is that there is no driving necessary, just get there, kayak, party, and fall asleep, all of which happens within a two acre area. The night was fun, talking to new people, hanging out with some good friends, and having a beverage or two. By 11 I was wiped out, so I made my way to my sleeping bag. I had forgotten my sleeping pad so I had planned to sleep on the grass and avoid my truck, this worked well until about 1 am. It started raining, and hard. So I gather up my yard sale of stuff on the ground and crawled into the truck bed. The hard plastic ridges that create the bed liner were very uninviting, luckily I had plenty of extra layers so I made myself a polypropylene nest and laid down very carefully. The night went pretty well all things considered.

The following morning John, Franz, and Chip decided not to race and have a more leisurely day on the water. So we put on before the race and went down to "Rams Horn" to watch the kayaks, cats, and raft teams come through. We got some really nice seats up on the river right side that made it possible to see rams horn and the rapid above it that I call "fist". After all the boats came through we pulled out behind the group and slowly made our way down to the car.

At the take-out I realized that I had left my keys in my pants that are at the top. Major rookie mistake, luckily there was a vehicle that was willing to drive the gang to the top to pick up their cars and my keys. After getting into dry clothes and loading up the car I began the three hour drive north back to the house. Another quality weekend in the Columbia River Gorge.

This is awesome

OLYMPICS-
330 AM PST THU MAR 11 2010

...WINTER STORM WARNING IN EFFECT UNTIL 6 AM PST FRIDAY...

.TODAY...RAIN AND SNOW. SNOW LEVEL 2500 FEET.
SNOW ACCUMULATION OF 10 TO 15 INCHES...MAINLY THIS MORNING.
.TONIGHT...RAIN AND SNOW. SNOW LEVEL 2500 FEET.
SNOW ACCUMULATION 4 TO 8 INCHES.
.FRIDAY...WINDY. RAIN OR SNOW TURNING TO SHOWERS.
SNOW LEVEL 3000FEET. SNOW ACCUMULATION 4 TO 8 INCHES.
.FRIDAY NIGHT...BREEZY...SHOWERS. SNOW LEVEL 2000 FEET.
.SATURDAY...MOSTLY CLOUDY WITH A CHANCE OF SHOWERS. SNOW LEVEL
2000 FEET.
.SATURDAY NIGHT...MOSTLY CLOUDY WITH A CHANCE OF RAIN AND SNOW. SNOW
LEVEL 2500 FEET.

The paddling this weekend should be awesome.
After 2 months of minimal precipitation
and warm temperatures, we're finally getting some weather.
I walked to the bus this morning in driving rain and
significant wind.  I wish I was out on the coast because
there is a High Surf advisory for the whole Washington
coastline.

Multisport

Saturday, March 6, 2010

Toutle River 1400 cfs

Class III-IV

4 miles

Due to dry weather, sunny days and cold temps, the rivers were low. All of them. Except one. The Toutle, the river that will have a bit of water in it when all else fails. Chris and I were the only ones who wanted to get wet so we met at Fred Meyers and loaded into the Previa with two kayaks and a bike.

It didn't make any sense to us to bring two cars with us and have to drive an hour and a half in lonely silence, so we opted for the bike shuttle. The bike shuttle made this a multi sport day for me, kayaking with some biking. Nothing better than a little cardio to top off the end of a kayak trip.

At the take out we changed, stashed the bike in the woods and locked it to the biggest tree that I could find, and drove to the put-in. The river was fun, sunny and warm with some waves to surf, eddies to catch and a beer to share between friends (after the rapids Mom).

At the take out I peeled off the extraneous gear, grabbed the bike and began my ridiculous bike ride to the car. Ridiculous for a couple of reasons. 1) I was wearing my kayak helmet and my bright orange drysuit, I probably looked like an astronaut. 2) I was wearing my booties which made riding surprisingly more difficult. 3) I failed to remove my specialty clipped pedals and replace them with my platform pedals. This final bit was the most troublesome on the steep hill climb back up to the top.

One thing that I had forgot about bike riding and hill climbing in particular is how much more of your surroundings you are able to observe whilst riding through the country. As I began plodding up the hill in my silly outfit I was keen to snoop into peoples backyards and observe the piece of country I spend plenty of time driving through.

The first piece of Americana that I noticed was a house - and I use that term very liberally - with a sign out front that stated the name of the house or perhaps the inhabitant; Unka Dave. Now notice the manner in which David spells his name; U-N-K-A, this is perhaps a reflection of his education or a deliberate attempt at standing up to the establishment. I would think that the latter is likely considering Unka Dave's dilapidated abode and his belief that having a trash pile as a yard ornament would be good for property value. I had a good giggle over Unka and continued my tour north toward the car.

As I rode by a well manicured and modern home I was greeted by the beginning of the chorus in Ozzy "The Prince of Darkness" Osbourne's first single "crazy train". It was blasting out an open garage door where a gentleman was working underneath what I believe was his Chevy Chevelle SS, a classic car worthy of the Prince of Darkness. I flashed him the devil horns and sang along as I peddled my happy ass along.

As I huffed and puffed up the steep pitch to the top of the last hill before the car I was reminded why riding on the road surrounded by errant drivers and speed freaks always worried me. As is chugged around a sharp bend in first gear I heard the approaching engine of a commuter sedan. The Geo Prizm flew by me at a good clip, the two liter, four cylinder engine whining away at 6,000 RPM under the strain of it's hefty occupants. They either didn't see me or didn't care, I find it more likely that they didn't see me because as I've mentioned before I was wearing a bright orange drysuit that to the untrained eye might be mistaken for a prison jumpsuit. They left me sucking black smoke from the oil burning in their cylinders, and with a heart racing due to the close call. In their defense there is no way I would have seen me either if I was driving as fast as they were.

Once at the top of the hill I was able to make quick speed down to the car, the sleeves of my drysuit tied around my waist flapping erratically in the wind. Once back at the car I loaded up the bike and drove back to Chris at the take-out, who was sleeping soundly in the sun, from the road any one who didn't know what was up would have thought that there was a man in his PJ's sleeping in the parking lot. The drive back to Fred Meyers was uneventful because were were in a Mexican food induced coma, or maybe it had to do with the MSG.