tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-182929142024-02-27T20:37:26.519-08:00FULL THROTTLErevv it upthe chargerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02660325895255791759noreply@blogger.comBlogger43125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18292914.post-31576045432809288932013-10-16T16:38:00.001-07:002013-10-16T16:38:38.545-07:00Gnarlfestivus 2013Well hello there human. Hope you're feeling good and having fun as much as possible. Speaking of fun, this past weekend was the inaugural Gnarlfest race and party! Race organizer, or as clever Mr. Cavin puts it-- disorganizer, Justin Patt and myself were talking on the ride up how many people would attend this year. We were worried that many California kayakers would be at Burnfest instead up on the Trinity river. Normally, the two events are held on separate weekends, but this year, more water was scheduled to release out of Little Grass Valley reservoir, the week after our 'normal' date. So, we decided to delay the race for a week to get 400 cfs, a much more pleasant flow than 350. <br />
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Boy were we surprised upon reaching the put-in. Tons of boaters scattered the picturesque scene as we took a practice lap on friday. The Gnarfest race course has to be one of the steepest, stoutest, and funnest sections to charge full-throttle in California. Its pretty short, but you get a fun little class IV paddle out of around 2 or 3 miles. Then you have to decide whether you want to hike-out the Post creek trail, plus the road which is now closed by Sierra Pacific (thanks guys); or to, keep paddling the South Feather river all the way to the next little man-made dam. I always chose to hike-out on my 6 laps so far this season, and I can honestly say I feel a little more in-shape because of it. Plus, the shuttle is much shorter and easier when you hike-out, and I took advantage of my sweet new ride. I got a little 49cc motor bike, which literally is a bicycle with a motor on it. Gets a 100 miles to the gallon though baby!<br />
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So, as usual, we partied pretty hard the night before the race, and Anthony provided us with some exciting Poi demonstrations that had us all a bit scared that the forest was gonna catch on fire. I'm sure our camping neighbors loved us! Come race time, which is always a proper display of California boaters taking their time and enjoying each others company, the skies opened up and gave us some warm sun to start the charge. For a moment, we almost started the race before our safety boaters were set-up, and this was a very good decision as their help was critical for a few racers. Therefore, we waited a mere 5 minutes, and I fired off the starting line like some steam out of a locomotive. This is the only race that I know of where a GoPro camera is used to time everyone.<br />
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Its a simple but effective scheme, in that the first racer, which was me this year, wears the GoPro and keeps it running after he finishes is race and films all the other racers hitting the finish line. Then we go back and use their start times, to see how long it took each racer to complete the Gnarl-zone. Unfortunately, 2 racers didn't complete the race, at least in the amount of time my GoPro battery lasted. Our back-up GoPro man, Gavin, got tossed in Mad Dog and swam. Then, Tay Cav broke his paddle in Mad Dog and C-1'ed to the eddy above the falls where Robby Hogg pulled him to safety. Gnar indeed! I would like to send a huge thanks to Nick Urquhart, Anthony, Robby and any other safety boaters I forgot. Your help makes us all feel safer.<br />
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For the racers that did finish the run, not a single one, got through without getting jangled up at least once. I guess I got jangled the least and took first, but was still 6 seconds from beating Justin Patt's record from last year in the mighty Greenboat. Its hilarious how we go from, last year having something like 5 out of 8 racers running the Greenboat, to none. This is mainly because hiking-out with a Greenboat is pretty brutal, and it just goes to show it isn't that much faster than the Nomad on this Gnarly course where flat water is scarce.<br />
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As our normal party location was pretty crowded with hunters and such, we decided to have the party next to the dam at an old quarry. It was a great venue for us Gnarly boaters to drink our beloved awards in grand ceremony. If you don't already know, the alcoholic beverage known as Four Loko was banned in 50 states for having too much fun in a single can. Therefore, the company lowered the fun level and it stayed on the shelves. Lucky for us, we have a reserve of what we call OG 4Lokos, ones from the original era with the max fun level. Unlucky for us, the liquid seems to be eating through the cans in their ripe age of around 3-4 years, and we have lost many of the OGs to can malfunction.<br />
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This year, only one OG 4Loko was awarded, and I was the lucky recipient. However, we decided this year, more 4Loko fun needed to ensue for the racers. So, we forced the other top racers, one DNF'er, and the two buddies who finished at the same time to chug a 4Loko in under their race time. This may not seem to hard, but I can honestly say taking down my OG lemonade 4loko in under 3:05 was pretty brutal. Let it be noted that Taylor Robertson single handedly dominated the competition in the Chug-athon.<br />
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Thomas and crew gathered a hefty amount of firewood, and thus, we raged until the rains sent us to our sleeping bags. Gnarlfest was a great success and saw 4 more racers than last year. Only 12 brave soldiers gave their all in a race for fun. Gnarlfest is a grassroots event that we hope continues for a long time. Enjoy the video from my race lap. As with all GoPro footage though, it just doesn't do this run justice. Until next year, keep the stoke up for the Gnarl!<br />
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<br />the chargerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02660325895255791759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18292914.post-15855430939239111982013-10-16T15:58:00.002-07:002013-10-16T16:00:14.543-07:00Royal Gorge 13'This year, 2013, was a weak snowpack year in the Sierras. As soon as the snow cleared from the road leading into the Royal Gorge, the flow dropped below the recommended level. I couldn't be held back from getting in there, and convinced Ben Coleman and Charles King that it would still be 'fun'. The gauge at Clementine was reading around 650cfs, and we normally do it around 1000.<br />
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Once we got in there, we were actually surprised at how good it was. Sure, it was really bouncy and slow, but just getting to experience that wilderness is worth it. Halfway through a gnarly section that we were portaging part of, I was confronted by someone on foot shouting at us from above on the opposite side of the river. I couldn't understand him at first and kept inspecting, what seemed to be, a familiar human. I was right, and recognized him as someone I had talked to at the dog park in Grass Valley. He asked, "are you guys certified?". I answered with a "Yes sir". I reckoned we were about as certified as it gets to be kayaking in there. So, we continued working our way down to the famous Heath Springs gorge without trouble.<br />
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I love the lead-in rapid to Heath 1 waterfall, and quickly decided to run it. Ben and King on the other hand were questioning running any of the Heath series. The reason I love the lead-in rapid, is because you go super deep! That I did, except I flipped in the process and barely hit a roll before going over the next slide. Stoked on the lead-in, I then waited on Ben to walk around and get photos of me running the 40 foot falls. This is something I'm not very good at-- waiting on the cameraman to get ready before running a significant drop. I much prefer having the camera ready before I even get in my boat, and then go exactly when I choose to. I was ready, but Ben wasn't. I kept anxiously looking over the horizon line waiting for the thumbs up. When the time finally came, I charged the lip too hard and ended up landing a little flat and crooked. The impact was massive, and the sound of my boat echoed through the canyon like a gunshot. I knew something wasn't right.<br />
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Surprisingly, after the impact, I got out of my boat and started to scout Heath 2, which has been on my check-list for quite some time now. The realization set in pretty quick that I wasn't going to be able to run Heath 2 or maybe even the rest of the river. After a little time of sussing out the situation, it became clear that I had hurt my ribs. Ben and King helped me make the decision to continue downstream to Rattlesnake and make the call whether to hike-out from there, or not. The main reason for this, being that the land, leading up to Heath Springs is private, and kayakers hiking-out is greatly frowned upon. Whereas, the trail that leads out of Royal Gorge at Rattlesnake Falls is public.<br />
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Portaging around Heath 2 and the Crux Gorge wasn't easy with throbbing ribs, but I manage to stay safe and get back down to the river. The first rapid I was faced with after said portaging isn't easy-- a solid class V rapid. But with some positive reinforcement from Ben, I successfully limped my way down the rapid. With only a couple more painful portages on rapids I would have normally run, had I not been hurt, I found myself stoked to be resting above Rattlesnake Falls.<br />
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The area around Rattlesnake is incredibly beautiful, and I began to appreciate being there with some good friends. Even though my ribs were killing me with every breathe, I was staying positive and hoping to feel better in the morning. Sleep was good, and I awoke the next morning feeling with much less pain. I made the decision to paddle out with the boys, over making the grueling hike-out alone. I immediately realized this was a good decision as I was able to reasonably deal with the low-flow rapids that ensued. Sure, I portaged my ass off because there are some huge drops in there like Scotts, Wabena, and some un-named 20'ers. I did decide to plop off Split Falls and had a decent line without having to roll.<br />
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To make a long story, slightly less long, we paddled the extremely long paddle out below Wabena falls before darkness set-in. As I continued to paddle, my ribs actually began to loosen up and feel better with every mile, surprisingly. I even probed a couple of the burlier rapids simply because it was more painful to eddy out, than it was to simply brace my way down. Moral of the story-- take your time, don't get over-excited for a drop, be calm, and go kayaking-- even if its only half the flow you're used to. The Royal Gorge is an amazing place that I hope to experience many more times, with more wisdom from my previous descents. I hope to only become stronger, wiser, and calmer as the years continue. Here are some of the few shots from the trip. Keep Charging!<br />
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King Charles gearing up for Royal!</div>
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Mr. King sending a sweet boof.</div>
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Will Pruett about to plug in.</div>
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Still good at low-flow.</div>
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Looks like a good line, but wasn't.</div>
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Twisted fire starter.</div>
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You could have still run it, but none of us did.</div>
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Magnificent scenery.</div>
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Charles doing some river-side Yoga.</div>
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<br />the chargerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02660325895255791759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18292914.post-87371101165829879232013-07-01T20:19:00.000-07:002013-07-01T20:19:12.881-07:00We Be Charging<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="281" mozallowfullscreen="" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/69469348" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="500"></iframe> <a href="http://vimeo.com/69469348">We Be Charging</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user1160618">Charge Productions</a> on <a href="https://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.the chargerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02660325895255791759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18292914.post-1842503512855684152013-06-30T20:07:00.004-07:002013-06-30T20:07:56.549-07:00Land Of New ZeaHere are my pictures from an epic trip to New Zealand in January. I will let them do the talking.<br />
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<span id="goog_247707538"></span>the chargerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02660325895255791759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18292914.post-1113483231525146782013-06-30T19:16:00.000-07:002013-06-30T19:16:25.650-07:00Fantasy FallsFantasy Falls. North Fork Mokelumne River. Wilderness Class V Kayak Run. April 2013.<br />
Paddlers: Jake Greenbaum, Nick Murphy, Thomas Moore, Mike Crenshaw, Charles King, Will Pruett<br />
Highlights: Jake running the Untouchables, Nick not swimming over the 30'er, Having just enough break-downs, Nick sailing Bear Trap, Amazing Camping, High Water, Great Weather, Bear Sightings, New Rapids, Shorter Lake Paddle, Plugging Huge Holes!<br />
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Here is a movie from the trip. Stay Charged Up!<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="188" mozallowfullscreen="" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/67184558" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="500"></iframe> <a href="http://vimeo.com/67184558">Fantasy Falls - HD 720p</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user1160618">Charge Productions</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.<br />
the chargerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02660325895255791759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18292914.post-42007957688245994492013-06-30T19:06:00.001-07:002013-06-30T19:06:13.788-07:00Random ShotsHere are some random shots from the past year.<br />
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the chargerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02660325895255791759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18292914.post-75432014142661326722013-05-05T17:26:00.001-07:002013-05-05T17:30:24.935-07:00Camp KaweahA group of Chargers have been enjoying Kaweah Camp down here in Three Rivers, CA.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA6NC8udpc9WXQN9Pp9Dx7QBUj1pTyufJ1WIZjrSS6QUp_kRwCWkJDU5p3xZ8QufEXiy66FPYp5OjEP0vaJHy2Hzlt1ycmu1ruhjtngEK7pxTAG-csnkGbrSpO78P2CoD-o-Uu7w/s1600/DSC00020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA6NC8udpc9WXQN9Pp9Dx7QBUj1pTyufJ1WIZjrSS6QUp_kRwCWkJDU5p3xZ8QufEXiy66FPYp5OjEP0vaJHy2Hzlt1ycmu1ruhjtngEK7pxTAG-csnkGbrSpO78P2CoD-o-Uu7w/s400/DSC00020.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nick Murphy in Skyhook on East Kaweah</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jake Greenbaum in runout of Chucks Slide on Middle Kaweah</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN3XVdQpxU8RAHhUZrj_ZVGisucSWuHLNaD3CBzw9kHLrZtUy_SccLcwxM0kIGN7spjUd3JFKYevQg8dhBQ_A8JWAJnqAH88X_jVbmBfE2SbatO3y651WzPTjbS7KbHgIZv2yo9A/s1600/DSC00063.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhN3XVdQpxU8RAHhUZrj_ZVGisucSWuHLNaD3CBzw9kHLrZtUy_SccLcwxM0kIGN7spjUd3JFKYevQg8dhBQ_A8JWAJnqAH88X_jVbmBfE2SbatO3y651WzPTjbS7KbHgIZv2yo9A/s400/DSC00063.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dylan Thompson dropping in</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZRlYC0ruEl2Z-qH3xvEsHLCJNrZHgVWHQUKIFTZy_DUEJELHL_1_nPGYZdGM1cGr8eNiCMgahIyV7MAFczxskPr-0iFMY0F0zfY_GAIQgvhjwmrVUSrPDXpo8fNteE_QgIrQW5w/s1600/DSC00080.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZRlYC0ruEl2Z-qH3xvEsHLCJNrZHgVWHQUKIFTZy_DUEJELHL_1_nPGYZdGM1cGr8eNiCMgahIyV7MAFczxskPr-0iFMY0F0zfY_GAIQgvhjwmrVUSrPDXpo8fNteE_QgIrQW5w/s400/DSC00080.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kyle Hull laying treats</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhit78oyQRmc8qbCAVmKGSC5XUt8lgPnQF0NPpywoMj6afXCRjb9C0PNahi3nh9pI9b9QJTOUWgYqh8Oe-m2BNUzy9r0vIAsVWl-AxGnIIB0KJCGjmfRyYZBR1DqagJvNXjIznWSA/s1600/DSC00128.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhit78oyQRmc8qbCAVmKGSC5XUt8lgPnQF0NPpywoMj6afXCRjb9C0PNahi3nh9pI9b9QJTOUWgYqh8Oe-m2BNUzy9r0vIAsVWl-AxGnIIB0KJCGjmfRyYZBR1DqagJvNXjIznWSA/s400/DSC00128.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mike Peacher stoked to not be portaging Skyhook</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyPw6dTWbDhdQruaht27D7qh86acmf1Rxc_jrwj51W9IUDUXH720vqwXneOIaG3Qgb85zCDnpwqK5IByk4ZCgKn7AcgNcwq1UFEdclKG_TC0zVdCtoO_Mud_pUsIOFwQdLz_4lmQ/s1600/DSC00147.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyPw6dTWbDhdQruaht27D7qh86acmf1Rxc_jrwj51W9IUDUXH720vqwXneOIaG3Qgb85zCDnpwqK5IByk4ZCgKn7AcgNcwq1UFEdclKG_TC0zVdCtoO_Mud_pUsIOFwQdLz_4lmQ/s400/DSC00147.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jake mobbin</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">King Charles riding the flow</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbulbudDaLnn3U5kguTMPV01ZrBQvDhAdzGl8HPR1xq-HXVCbeu9qwJnd-lKMKmChunRoVJFSKPe3NdB6_UD7yTXHXcL5LvU1FINdXMLUg9HVOlqD3jbWBs8vdtgA9eZ4mJPtUxA/s1600/DSC00214.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbulbudDaLnn3U5kguTMPV01ZrBQvDhAdzGl8HPR1xq-HXVCbeu9qwJnd-lKMKmChunRoVJFSKPe3NdB6_UD7yTXHXcL5LvU1FINdXMLUg9HVOlqD3jbWBs8vdtgA9eZ4mJPtUxA/s400/DSC00214.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peacher not enjoying the portage at Driftwood on East Kaweah</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7joyiu7uM5el0UGOh_NfkCpj8KswTzOFYl8G7BlQt3t0AMx-NzZhG7DJCd9rLIuaNMDu-o0WRq2Ygzfbr9Ffux82eKLeItp-P31Vmr1I4BTIEzsc3cWLi992rXqBZVkNzNCYXug/s1600/DSC00172.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7joyiu7uM5el0UGOh_NfkCpj8KswTzOFYl8G7BlQt3t0AMx-NzZhG7DJCd9rLIuaNMDu-o0WRq2Ygzfbr9Ffux82eKLeItp-P31Vmr1I4BTIEzsc3cWLi992rXqBZVkNzNCYXug/s400/DSC00172.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Crenshaw enjoying some sweet whitewater</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA9D-waYgfbtvSgzQ4kW5_MsLjIQjfyFA9vcTnEEeAXAsiusmOZdoHs1ZxIvVIouEhmLbAQNv0CyDqoEMiEoS7wiKDQ8RyZQu9Adr8XZsV2KLnH0HnwXlUCJaRupjNG4z49JOAFQ/s1600/DSC00182.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA9D-waYgfbtvSgzQ4kW5_MsLjIQjfyFA9vcTnEEeAXAsiusmOZdoHs1ZxIvVIouEhmLbAQNv0CyDqoEMiEoS7wiKDQ8RyZQu9Adr8XZsV2KLnH0HnwXlUCJaRupjNG4z49JOAFQ/s400/DSC00182.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dylan's first time at the Kaweah has been a memorable one...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZxaYLtaWAjcV3f83WPOwPbPI4kWITSMSr3N1O-v5PphUz-YtVk3TzCAt8Ykw0_bmHwAUqJwlAFafMbHUnQnI8QwJhmF9gCfaUoJR07LDqyPwcz687T2dRn22AtXrDFcaCbEiugQ/s1600/DSC00195.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZxaYLtaWAjcV3f83WPOwPbPI4kWITSMSr3N1O-v5PphUz-YtVk3TzCAt8Ykw0_bmHwAUqJwlAFafMbHUnQnI8QwJhmF9gCfaUoJR07LDqyPwcz687T2dRn22AtXrDFcaCbEiugQ/s400/DSC00195.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Peacher </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh44EhX6-MemjXrcRwHsz3uGx0W_wy6glmUQsxPW34uiC0Rn9jXXJ4TXyRDZb4qGNsUebGafrvKNfETqdsH1Ja5Zxdxj4fCk0oUPxX0Ty5_T43m8SAbwWEHCPpGo6B1Y0TBfv6TFA/s1600/DSC00217.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh44EhX6-MemjXrcRwHsz3uGx0W_wy6glmUQsxPW34uiC0Rn9jXXJ4TXyRDZb4qGNsUebGafrvKNfETqdsH1Ja5Zxdxj4fCk0oUPxX0Ty5_T43m8SAbwWEHCPpGo6B1Y0TBfv6TFA/s400/DSC00217.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kyle </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMkHfzqzgb09_HGga0LIze1Ogt-szhX_nrqJTf23xWH427FMQuCSwCIdyIvDH_LiPmsnXeyry_Zo4ekQYiBVA8k-MYIH1e9OmVmoU_ACFqPGAlLxk9YPwtboZST8dO_GhOBdS-Qw/s1600/DSC00222.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMkHfzqzgb09_HGga0LIze1Ogt-szhX_nrqJTf23xWH427FMQuCSwCIdyIvDH_LiPmsnXeyry_Zo4ekQYiBVA8k-MYIH1e9OmVmoU_ACFqPGAlLxk9YPwtboZST8dO_GhOBdS-Qw/s400/DSC00222.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nick dropping Driftwood</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ-rf5IbhqqX_4cml5EPIGhf0mSS7ZUYYewECVJ6rHTmJdXiAIBWcvWXCdyDckazvAnaoiCya94DW3sjRZMDoFsaN06WN6pNlFplorIE6JFMJ6Af66TU5Av-A3n0CWiK9_x3MvsQ/s1600/DSC00227.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ-rf5IbhqqX_4cml5EPIGhf0mSS7ZUYYewECVJ6rHTmJdXiAIBWcvWXCdyDckazvAnaoiCya94DW3sjRZMDoFsaN06WN6pNlFplorIE6JFMJ6Af66TU5Av-A3n0CWiK9_x3MvsQ/s400/DSC00227.jpg" width="220" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Werner Paddles are Strong</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSie3Qowle5jXyHeyxJg6RyZh-jQTXn3ESX6pyylJsFNyFNusteoksWQhvBPVO-ONNJMvtQvmHMG7btP5W6eZA3tgE4zCKRkbShOKaMCN0l8DpHxpA59F_uTt5KBHtrTB51KWqgQ/s1600/DSC00436.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSie3Qowle5jXyHeyxJg6RyZh-jQTXn3ESX6pyylJsFNyFNusteoksWQhvBPVO-ONNJMvtQvmHMG7btP5W6eZA3tgE4zCKRkbShOKaMCN0l8DpHxpA59F_uTt5KBHtrTB51KWqgQ/s400/DSC00436.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jake in Chucks Slide</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNtQQsH_IDQOu-E1kMMcLefl_cNdiIvKncCOTkYpF11FH8yLuum4qe-rLCGViSqN85ZubhSMI9D7vpT9PAfftHPkAJty-4qO8MoaVodPpI9Xu_E3QIr2w6qQPPa4bJHSY7gEOpLw/s1600/DSC00388.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNtQQsH_IDQOu-E1kMMcLefl_cNdiIvKncCOTkYpF11FH8yLuum4qe-rLCGViSqN85ZubhSMI9D7vpT9PAfftHPkAJty-4qO8MoaVodPpI9Xu_E3QIr2w6qQPPa4bJHSY7gEOpLw/s400/DSC00388.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nick being dwarfed by the Kaweah goods</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYojWp4SdFZTW3ojCsd-kMfhhxfbHPArulPesO3VACC9OeY0hFEKLLlCV0OWDZK52axj7C7HVWmsi7IB0XO2VtL5bPAzb7OrEsVI2d_UxFQKQcDiLhS3Kbv6r-J4R54r95DD95Yw/s1600/DSC00330.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYojWp4SdFZTW3ojCsd-kMfhhxfbHPArulPesO3VACC9OeY0hFEKLLlCV0OWDZK52axj7C7HVWmsi7IB0XO2VtL5bPAzb7OrEsVI2d_UxFQKQcDiLhS3Kbv6r-J4R54r95DD95Yw/s400/DSC00330.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kyle fires it up</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm80xWou6Lx8kBzCbeGjW77TsYB2mONmR_FtXiQ6MBW7CaiU0CLcnH_v25XL7MgM7YSPAUZWk2oicW9MWQYPLpMhPf1zPx4SfGsAvHqV1ky7gNvN4rovsVVMa-ZAJ-q6DkgNGCpA/s1600/DSC00307.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm80xWou6Lx8kBzCbeGjW77TsYB2mONmR_FtXiQ6MBW7CaiU0CLcnH_v25XL7MgM7YSPAUZWk2oicW9MWQYPLpMhPf1zPx4SfGsAvHqV1ky7gNvN4rovsVVMa-ZAJ-q6DkgNGCpA/s400/DSC00307.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dylan gets a hangover cure</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtETVuo7aiGl0d7oQwveemR89TOpSVrCFZC9O5tz7vFEphSgAeKrVO-MHrKRQ69Cx8TWfw_F10g8KHZHB_9kmzR8uYY3ED44Cek-j4-wTgkWyWqLvkNqiA5RyO-hRIYRjjhFXgEA/s1600/DSC00236.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtETVuo7aiGl0d7oQwveemR89TOpSVrCFZC9O5tz7vFEphSgAeKrVO-MHrKRQ69Cx8TWfw_F10g8KHZHB_9kmzR8uYY3ED44Cek-j4-wTgkWyWqLvkNqiA5RyO-hRIYRjjhFXgEA/s400/DSC00236.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dylan grinding that smooth granite<br />
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Cheers</td></tr>
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<span id="goog_1356592962"></span><span id="goog_1356592963"></span><br />the chargerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02660325895255791759noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18292914.post-1267667092579556832013-01-02T02:27:00.001-08:002013-01-02T21:29:44.442-08:00Middle Earth<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Howdy Ya'll!</div>
New Zealand, what a place. Well, I finally made it down here after traveling for about 30 hours, part of which included my partner in Charge, Michael Peacher, popping a couple bottles of bubbly on the plane from LA to Fiji, which took place sometime during the bringing in of 2013! We asked the flight attendant if it was cool to drink our own liquor on the plane, and not to our surprise, they said no. No worries though bro, we were finished with them by that point. Here we are on the plane.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfutcNfJmD7bnlY4lOOo1B4kyLgdCwBR4ycOb9yXyUxUq-FYOmYd3u3KrNtVI5KY2s-NQS_RfDzMHgLUGpsdP2lzmBSrbPvdDKV_jEa7U3RKtQpmz2XWuwscNpuuXjnpOPquSb6w/s1600/16696_10151190717108693_222667400_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfutcNfJmD7bnlY4lOOo1B4kyLgdCwBR4ycOb9yXyUxUq-FYOmYd3u3KrNtVI5KY2s-NQS_RfDzMHgLUGpsdP2lzmBSrbPvdDKV_jEa7U3RKtQpmz2XWuwscNpuuXjnpOPquSb6w/s320/16696_10151190717108693_222667400_n.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a><br />
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Our local buddies, Barny and Jordy, picked us up at the airport in Christchurch at 4:20, and we immediately got the party started! A sweet drive from the east coast to the west coast, which they claim is the best coast, invited some incredible sights that seemed to be straight out of Lord Of The Rings. Barny and Jordy rent a tight little crib right near the beach outside Greymouth, and the rain immediately started to hammer down on us. The winds were whipping up quite a bit too.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT1yX2z__ojROH5cpBOGTytngwKED6xvqUIG0AZkSGO8W4VgBcR2ACEr8p3Xl3cFi93GWYo-mbBrXr-emVmKIPNYAjPin9qEkzlIx4HJnSvnkpKEDpBUwzr80JZkkLzKYz8MFDaA/s1600/741281_516469791726567_2011014653_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT1yX2z__ojROH5cpBOGTytngwKED6xvqUIG0AZkSGO8W4VgBcR2ACEr8p3Xl3cFi93GWYo-mbBrXr-emVmKIPNYAjPin9qEkzlIx4HJnSvnkpKEDpBUwzr80JZkkLzKYz8MFDaA/s320/741281_516469791726567_2011014653_o.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a><br />
Wish we had the General Lee for this one…<br />
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The next morning, we awoke to more rain, and the boys said we were going to do a short little run that rarely has enough flow. Right… these guys are all about downplay. Us foreigners, decided to bail on the idea of traveling overseas with our trusty Dagger Nomad kayak, and opted to use a locally made Bliss-Stick boat. Peacher and I chose the Mystic; whereas, Nick chose the slightly bigger, longer, and faster Tuna. Outfitting was pretty easy, besides for Nick, who had to tweak his bulkhead for his shorter legs.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW042BRn8f1GQ9vblnnPgmyXQ6_Pklg7lGrM6QS5kqzmXPz_-0Izy6wIEwL2h29-CjMp2DAOAE9njjNAZgsyvIQmW8BO5qN5BGumZZ-2YkLDBXzHohGQMy_ivZYerFl2Z50yxGYw/s1600/Screen+shot+2013-01-02+at+4.46.06+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="162" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhW042BRn8f1GQ9vblnnPgmyXQ6_Pklg7lGrM6QS5kqzmXPz_-0Izy6wIEwL2h29-CjMp2DAOAE9njjNAZgsyvIQmW8BO5qN5BGumZZ-2YkLDBXzHohGQMy_ivZYerFl2Z50yxGYw/s320/Screen+shot+2013-01-02+at+4.46.06+AM.png" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a><br />
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After a leisurely start, we were mobbing on the left side of the road in Barny's Subaru. Most of the little creeks on the way seemed to be flowing good, but not too high. Arriving at the bridge, our local tour guides, B n J, deemed the flow good to go. We had no idea what we were getting into… The hike-in was on an immaculately maintained Mtn. bike trail, which had these crazy looking traps with an egg in them. Not sure what they were trying to catch… maybe coons. Heard they're a nuisance over here.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAUcdUuH5uPs8coCUXWJHIjOg6vJaxTJqoAQqyhfcBmvmvGjfipyhIzyhMOU1RqDKIWQN4Bizf8iXtX_iYo8LioStOoi5LGQk_uidGJNze-6ULL4xTPgEgQ62R1GLIN6SDJ2sHjQ/s1600/Screen+shot+2013-01-02+at+4.47.24+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="176" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAUcdUuH5uPs8coCUXWJHIjOg6vJaxTJqoAQqyhfcBmvmvGjfipyhIzyhMOU1RqDKIWQN4Bizf8iXtX_iYo8LioStOoi5LGQk_uidGJNze-6ULL4xTPgEgQ62R1GLIN6SDJ2sHjQ/s320/Screen+shot+2013-01-02+at+4.47.24+AM.png" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a><br />
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We were greeted with an absurd amount of new wood in the river bed. Forcing us to make a heinous portage, which started to get me quite familiar with the land, as we clung to the moss infested hillside. Here is Barny still stoked even though we had to portage.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA7URbX5MOOuSKh1G4uxGOdZQutWsgUnGvA-WU0c_Bl6fRXxYyQgCfD-jV_x8ZFPsMe5eIg8FgT29_mp6CtObFFLrV9_PZq6A8tE-K8j0zYJeEgLgje3vvUMETbgBHBYhcMMxeXw/s1600/Blackball+Barn+beginning.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA7URbX5MOOuSKh1G4uxGOdZQutWsgUnGvA-WU0c_Bl6fRXxYyQgCfD-jV_x8ZFPsMe5eIg8FgT29_mp6CtObFFLrV9_PZq6A8tE-K8j0zYJeEgLgje3vvUMETbgBHBYhcMMxeXw/s320/Blackball+Barn+beginning.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a><br />
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More wood ensued, and the rapids quickly grew in size and speed. Here is Nick giving an eye of anxiety as the tension began to rise for us foreigners, in a different country, in different boats.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSudFLNVVcQfz5eJ3Z1cz_Sxt5c5gmRKkaglPKgl6sEawdXZzV1hI-GjuQn1ZBK2biKx6S98tjfH60sfFdFndprIYZUZkzKFvCk_jF5DjZMG0gQBXdwwBlHbHNs2iiBFt9_3L9Gg/s1600/nick+face.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="171" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSudFLNVVcQfz5eJ3Z1cz_Sxt5c5gmRKkaglPKgl6sEawdXZzV1hI-GjuQn1ZBK2biKx6S98tjfH60sfFdFndprIYZUZkzKFvCk_jF5DjZMG0gQBXdwwBlHbHNs2iiBFt9_3L9Gg/s320/nick+face.png" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div>
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Us foreigners weren't the only ones with hearts beating faster than normal. Here is Barny having an encounter with a stone. His leg was ripped out of the thighbrace, but he got it back together, as a swim would have been devastating in this rapidly rising creek, i forgot to mention, is named BlackBall creek #1.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZwVXYa9c9cxIwSz3UGrPhP2vRuckxFyYoRXl73an6Ktg7RPmMzHXYKfgClEgKxKo2aWjXHbq0KR4r1ZDDj7dAcmusR1qdjjP2N9HyEYzbOr1ezHH7gmhT4obZRuKFh3hF1lMEjg/s1600/Barn+Carn.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="158" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZwVXYa9c9cxIwSz3UGrPhP2vRuckxFyYoRXl73an6Ktg7RPmMzHXYKfgClEgKxKo2aWjXHbq0KR4r1ZDDj7dAcmusR1qdjjP2N9HyEYzbOr1ezHH7gmhT4obZRuKFh3hF1lMEjg/s320/Barn+Carn.png" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div>
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We eventually reached a point where the rapids were big and stacked, and Nick missed a crucial eddy, forcing him to paddle a burly rapid with a headhunting log. Thanks heavens, Nick ducked the log, avoided the undercut landslide, and punched two rowdy holes. Nevertheless, we could't see him or the entire rapid; so we began frantically searching for our comrade. Peacher and I helped Barny and Jordy portage the log, and they mobbed into the two holes in search of Nick. They didn't exactly 'sell' the line on the holes, and we couldn't tell that the boys found Nick in good shape. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJS7Ud1Rga9gzhACexQ_wj31w3aMZJASFRHUxeKF0wYDfRHxyi4SiZz6PNU5sqoCvwlaQN_OXBSAz7YRtCUfXxUnuEwB9TBrGr-z6320QRISiBmxGwhrsQvz3lQvlYkwhdnl2EKw/s1600/will+hole.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJS7Ud1Rga9gzhACexQ_wj31w3aMZJASFRHUxeKF0wYDfRHxyi4SiZz6PNU5sqoCvwlaQN_OXBSAz7YRtCUfXxUnuEwB9TBrGr-z6320QRISiBmxGwhrsQvz3lQvlYkwhdnl2EKw/s320/will+hole.png" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div>
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Long story--slightly less long, Peacher and I decided to hike-out, seeing the river rise 6'' in 30 minutes. It was brutal to say the least, but at least all the vegetation is nice and soft without the presence of poisonous snakes, spiders, or plants. After a long hard hike through some super steep and treacherous terrain, Peacher and I reached the take-out, but no sign of the crew who continued paddling. </div>
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After contemplating possible rescue options for a while, we were super stoked to see the boys come floating down to the bridge. After swapping stories, it sounded like we chose the right decision to hike-out, as they other boys were forced to do some seriously life-threatening portages. All is well that ends well. Here we are reunited after a long and hard first day of paddling in New Zealand, in 2013, in Bliss-Stick boats. Stoked to be here. Im gonna try to keep Full Throttle updated on our adventures. Cheers!!!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-dIN3gDCyKGKSRUVmMG-gbHXyfvTZduaLbgbCw-59ktAKxcNbf-KymHmwo-8zrheiLgFYo_0WfjuTnGL6hVpa4k8ZPoXnBlYMpYRb1d44GYMKnoUukDD19I-YlWVKjPtc7xfqdw/s1600/GOPR0706.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-dIN3gDCyKGKSRUVmMG-gbHXyfvTZduaLbgbCw-59ktAKxcNbf-KymHmwo-8zrheiLgFYo_0WfjuTnGL6hVpa4k8ZPoXnBlYMpYRb1d44GYMKnoUukDD19I-YlWVKjPtc7xfqdw/s320/GOPR0706.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="320" /></a></div>
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the chargerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02660325895255791759noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18292914.post-92177680301637530062012-10-16T00:18:00.000-07:002012-10-16T00:18:34.509-07:00Festival TimeWell, I know it's been a while since I last updated the old blog here, but to be honest there hasn't been much to write about. Thankfully, the season has changed, and after a long, hot, dry summer here in Cali, a few rivers are coming back to life. Mainly because they are dam controlled and the reservoirs upstream need to be lowered for the winter rains, which I greatly anticipate!<br />
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This year, like so many years, I made my annual pilgrimage to the mighty Gauley river in West (by god) Virginia. My brother was keen on the mission, so we bought his some racks from Rock/Creekfor his silver 4-runner, aptly named Sylvester, and started the long drive north from Chattanooga. On the way, I tried to make as many copies of my new film called We Be Charging. It's a strictly kayaking movie, showcasing the classic rivers of Cali during one of the highest runoffs in recorded history, 2011! I only got 2 copies made, so I didn't exactly spread the gospel as hoped at Gauley Fest. But we did have a damn good time!<br />
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On the river, Bryce Evans let me borrow his General Lee painted squirt boat. My brother borrowed Bryce's Nomad, and before too long we were happily cruising down the Upper G baby! My brother hadn't paddled in a few years and the hardest thing he had paddled before the Gauley was the Ocoee. We were all a little nervous for his safety, but he made it very apparent he was ready for action when Adrien took him through the meat of the hole in Insignificant. My brother, Andrew, fought out of that hungry hippo like a kindergartner racing for recess! He was doing great until we reached the hardest rapid on the run, Lost Paddle.<br />
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People had been going him all sorts of conflicting and confusing beta about the rapid. So, unlike Insignificant, I had him follow me down. Well, we got to Hawaii five-o wave and he flipped, taking a massive shot to the face in the shallow slide downstream. It was a knockout punch that forced a wet-exit and lost paddle. Luckily, some fellow boaters lended us some hand-paddles, and Andrew finished the run strong!<br />
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After a long hard night of keg-stands and party antics, we made it back to river and started our second voyage down the river. Bryce put on quite the show at Pillow by splatting the Room Of Doom and stalling there for a while, laughing at the crowd the whole time. He was amped to say the least. Once again though, Lost Paddle had its sight set on Andrew, and he took another massive hit to the face in the 2nd drop. However, this time he took it like a man, and rolled up! On the shuttle ride out, we were making good use of Team Jib's new rig, Vandura, by cramming 12 people in there.<br />
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What goes on at Gauley-fest, stays at Gauley-fest. Enough said. When I returned back to my home town of Chattanooga, the skies closed and began to dump rain like it was going out of style! An event that calls for great celebration amongst my brethren, as our favorite waterways become primed for a good charging! Bryce, Taylor Martin, and I routed an old favorite, Little Possum creek. Bryce forgot we were at the 25'er and almost re-inacted the first descent, which gets it it's name Immodium because they almost pooped their pants upon free fall.<br />
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We then moved south to the local favorite, Bear creek. We had a nice medium-ish flow of 16''. Our good friend Jeff West had just passed away on the Stikine river in BC a week prior. So, our thoughts were definitely with Jeff, as he had more consecutive laps on this creek, and many others. Bryce and I didn't eddy out before Fishbowl, and upon landing the drop, Bryce said "let's go"! Knowing that we were going to have a spiritual moment blue-angelin' Stairway to Heaven, I gave Ryan Allen the look to follow suit. Paddling into Stairway, Bryce and I called to the heavens above, where we knew Jeff was looking down from, and dedicated our charge to him. We will always miss his contagious passion for kayaking!<br />
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As soon as I flew back to Cali, it was time for another paddle festival. Feather-fest! After a few warm up laps, I was feelin a bit tired but anxious o put down my time on this fun racecourse. Eric<br />
Giddens was on hand, so I figured he would be the winner, being an ex-Olympian and all. I had a good fun run, and to my surprise, passed my friend Rusty Sage, someone I looked up to as a kid. The party started with a surfer band keeping people entertained until the award ceremony started. Macy put on quite a show for everyone, as the winners of the different classes in the Tobin race were forced to funnel gross alcoholic beverages. And the crown winners were flogged by a girl wearing black leather. I was forced to take a Felch MacGregor, Old English mixed with whiskey, for getting third behind Giddens and Patts tied winning time. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875);">Good times there for sure!</span><br />
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Next weekend was slated for Gnarlfest. So,Nick Murphy and I loaded up the Greenboats, and drove from Grass Valley to Little Grass Valley reservoir, which is still a 2 hr drive. Anxiety was a bit high as the run is pretty intense and we hadn't heard of anyone taking longboats down besides Nick's unplanned Corsica S run the week prior. The Greenboat ended up being incredible on the river, but brutal on the hike-out. Come race day, others were inspired to bring there Greenboats, and we had one hell of a good race! Justin Patt ended up chuggin the OG Four Loko, and raging late into the night. I somehow got second place, besting Nick by 6 seconds. Surprisingly, Jason Hale got last and was also forced to chug a 4 Loko. Inspiring him to put on a skin-tight gold suit and making everyone laugh until their face hurt. It was a great, grand, and wonderful time!<br />
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The next day we did what is so great about our sport, the actual kayaking! With that said, don't let the side facets of our small sport get in the way of getting out and enjoying a nice piece of whitewater. Until next time, keep this batteries charged!!!<br />
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Cheers-- Will Pruettthe chargerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02660325895255791759noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18292914.post-68351046736987649892012-07-26T00:45:00.001-07:002012-07-26T00:45:25.934-07:00Adventure Chasing<br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Npk6Gw5ut3AMAfvgKHxm5Hc9dc5uOar0PV6lZIoVv5A5KupKjGPbAo0kC4rYeA-UqfHgJ2GAfqNjrwZaSYO3lcseneW2vsA-50dCZCg2E6sBV9Ad_lADq6LA5fZ0mlRlAhXQMA/s1600/2012-05-29+07.54.54.jpg" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Npk6Gw5ut3AMAfvgKHxm5Hc9dc5uOar0PV6lZIoVv5A5KupKjGPbAo0kC4rYeA-UqfHgJ2GAfqNjrwZaSYO3lcseneW2vsA-50dCZCg2E6sBV9Ad_lADq6LA5fZ0mlRlAhXQMA/s400/2012-05-29+07.54.54.jpg" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
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Greetings fellow earthlings! I hope you are charged up for life. My most recent, and only, high sierra river trip this year was on some obscure creek in the <span id="taw" style="margin-right: 0;"><a class="spell" href="https://encrypted.google.com/search?hl=en&pws=0&gbv=2&sa=X&ei=Z9YQUNjlMajkiwLxjYDgAw&ved=0CFAQBSgA&q=tuolumne&spell=1"><b><i>tuolumne</i></b></a> drainage. My friends Ben Coleman, Thomas Moore, Nick Murphy, and yours truly formed up the team. Most of us, besides Nick, are on time constraints and therefore decided to execute the mission in a single day, whereas most spend a few days. This allowed us to make the scenic hike without the burden of camping gear. Still, the hike is a good distance, and thus, we got started at dawn. Big thanks to Ben Coleman for driving me back down to the take-out at 1AM because I left my bag of gear down there. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlnFfVUj695gN3RuhBw3Eos6iN1pPceFWRglaRIm7tDL_ely8EM8GUQU0mmL_t1KSkbE3CUGHaqQztn9gLeQWIvW_GXi8hApoq30uYxKfmixMKccJjowHDfgnycAWnN3vNRmj3Jw/s1600/2012-05-29+05.22.14.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlnFfVUj695gN3RuhBw3Eos6iN1pPceFWRglaRIm7tDL_ely8EM8GUQU0mmL_t1KSkbE3CUGHaqQztn9gLeQWIvW_GXi8hApoq30uYxKfmixMKccJjowHDfgnycAWnN3vNRmj3Jw/s400/2012-05-29+05.22.14.jpg" width="297" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy as a bug in a rug.</td></tr>
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<span id="taw" style="margin-right: 0pt;"> </span><span id="taw" style="margin-right: 0pt;"></span><span id="taw" style="margin-right: 0pt;">The morning glow is an awesome way to start a hike. The temperature is cool and the light glows, as if shining through a jar of honey. Its always a good idea to hike with water, but I thought this organic sports drink called recharge would be as good or better. I thought wrong. When you are really parched, flavor just gets in the way of pure refreshment, in my opinion. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiudfWH9t9FHjuKYkDPHap0IaClhZXTgItWwi-3JGscbB93yuyuExO6pBOV7TWmLlPa5_XmNg7fzACkTVw5CzRSydZURDYBLHHy8ryk5QF8hErdBoBrdQNL2gl17rtbYkSehdEANQ/s1600/2012-05-29+06.30.57.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiudfWH9t9FHjuKYkDPHap0IaClhZXTgItWwi-3JGscbB93yuyuExO6pBOV7TWmLlPa5_XmNg7fzACkTVw5CzRSydZURDYBLHHy8ryk5QF8hErdBoBrdQNL2gl17rtbYkSehdEANQ/s400/2012-05-29+06.30.57.jpg" width="298" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Good morning.</td></tr>
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<span id="taw" style="margin-right: 0pt;"> </span><span id="taw" style="margin-right: 0pt;">Water is scarce in the high, desert-like, sierras mountains. I don't always find a source when I want it, but when I do, I choose straight chugging as my means of hydration in the wilderness. What you believe is what you get. And I believe high sierra water is purer than anything you can get in, or from 'society'. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSIUPcC8Cow4a6Es4ecizsz9U8k_a9r8HRaR-3O0h5hHQHbSm-_19J6UWz-_xVqnflkQGL3Z2IyXrqY9Vw6d0J5jTWqfaL7DCl4WecVuypVrnfjZ-XyYHAePsqOFGSNTEZ60xO3g/s1600/2012-05-29+08.19.41.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSIUPcC8Cow4a6Es4ecizsz9U8k_a9r8HRaR-3O0h5hHQHbSm-_19J6UWz-_xVqnflkQGL3Z2IyXrqY9Vw6d0J5jTWqfaL7DCl4WecVuypVrnfjZ-XyYHAePsqOFGSNTEZ60xO3g/s320/2012-05-29+08.19.41.jpg" width="238" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Swamp crossing.</td></tr>
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<span id="taw" style="margin-right: 0pt;"></span>Throughout history, fires have scorched the forest we hike through to get to this certain creek. Fires are like a natural de-tox, I feel like, and we are preventing them all the time. Seems like a de-tox every now and then would be a good idea. I think it leaves a beautiful mark, wiping the slate clean for a fresh beginning.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqUNsTieioVqqqh86EhvRjwyfTIkviiZctmdCfBODCwzAgbWUDE33M-3wVD2tvKTZ9_8eqNYVnoec4IvmmaAWJFQCRyja3wNHTEiqd9wACIsfDLu5i0hWzBAzAbvYdfmWnQ5O1jA/s1600/2012-05-29+08.48.46.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqUNsTieioVqqqh86EhvRjwyfTIkviiZctmdCfBODCwzAgbWUDE33M-3wVD2tvKTZ9_8eqNYVnoec4IvmmaAWJFQCRyja3wNHTEiqd9wACIsfDLu5i0hWzBAzAbvYdfmWnQ5O1jA/s320/2012-05-29+08.48.46.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Enjoying the scenery.</td></tr>
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Change is hard sometimes, but creates these places I enjoy so much. I started the hike feeling fresh as a pie, but after around 9 miles of hiking, I began to feel like a stale leftover. Perseverance must always be kept in mind, looking forward to the reward, but also, enjoying the current pain as well.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpOGpyJutNgsR50DAx8ARm-L_i3YwcXqwth8Wuip-Mfbpk4egp4LULLJne7fISpaH5VriZcrqpBMiKdfci2qQbBq_EJFrUGQTErNb8TMkNmguWKZJHhqub6k30gH2-TWZK9lSPnw/s1600/2012-05-29+11.10.02.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpOGpyJutNgsR50DAx8ARm-L_i3YwcXqwth8Wuip-Mfbpk4egp4LULLJne7fISpaH5VriZcrqpBMiKdfci2qQbBq_EJFrUGQTErNb8TMkNmguWKZJHhqub6k30gH2-TWZK9lSPnw/s320/2012-05-29+11.10.02.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Granite wonderland.</td></tr>
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Once I arrived to the glorious sight of the creek, I was swarmed by a bunch of bloody insects, know, in parts, as skeeters. I'm not a big fan of skeeters and put on my drysuit with great haste, even though I was exhausted from the long hike I had just finished. We paddled down a short distance to the first main rapid of the run, hoping the skeeters would be less aggressive over there. Lets just say we didn't spend much time there either.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdInxYOYopT0lt0Y-fdrBSUK5eJUEjTqGyCdHVcnFgLBrHkzt_77oDG4eCnJ87Nyaj36pwB0jjPJQYuB0BTcCZ2yAiDzltYVZZ7NTgzfNTyqdbMsYiTesouxTPxl9iN8waXR5X_g/s1600/2012-05-29+11.55.09.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdInxYOYopT0lt0Y-fdrBSUK5eJUEjTqGyCdHVcnFgLBrHkzt_77oDG4eCnJ87Nyaj36pwB0jjPJQYuB0BTcCZ2yAiDzltYVZZ7NTgzfNTyqdbMsYiTesouxTPxl9iN8waXR5X_g/s320/2012-05-29+11.55.09.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Joyfully greeted!</td></tr>
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The water was cold and swift, but not quite padding out the massive granite slab we were grinding over. I wasn't complaining, as I knew it would eventually channelize into one of the world's greatest slot canyons. I believe Ben was on the first descent of this creek, not that it really made a difference, as he does what we like to call, 'mob'. Whether he is on a river he has never paddled before, or on a run he has done a hundred times, Ben charges with great speed and skill! I consider him one of the original gangsters of califorina creeking.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAxEF-RmrJxN8Vnsp1hDn3qHpUyFlm8t-BKLs8_oOq0wCI7c959e0k3UPrDk4pZ6ESen3MCrOlPjG5zQ_kFk1Km3OIzWpPyw2aBJiN_e2zidJTYRpV8msQds1XwfoAgQmT7eXBAQ/s1600/2012-05-29+12.17.16.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAxEF-RmrJxN8Vnsp1hDn3qHpUyFlm8t-BKLs8_oOq0wCI7c959e0k3UPrDk4pZ6ESen3MCrOlPjG5zQ_kFk1Km3OIzWpPyw2aBJiN_e2zidJTYRpV8msQds1XwfoAgQmT7eXBAQ/s320/2012-05-29+12.17.16.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First good rapid.</td></tr>
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Eventually, after moving swiftly through the first few miles, we passed another crew of kayakers. What a coincidence! Its amazing they knew of this little creek also. I could tell they were from another country by their wide eyes and funny looking gear.<br />
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Entering the main gorge, we saw two fellows doing some boat assisted rock climbing. I have done that there before too! Upon seeing our first glimpse of the super-deep, walled-in, and spectacular gorge; we noticed three people, but only, two boats perched on a small riverside-ledge. This was confusing at first, as it seems nearly impossible to enter that gorge without a kayak.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB4WZG_QaJE-330CjdY6tL-vDt0bDR768frzcN3brcAqSvubm17h-kgK-VVHXAJn8LDUMjGk-IKVyNHUje3KOq2owK0umbc9S5FUJCCP_Ua7-e-uAJO3Fb75GjNUuMVMLENOd0CA/s1600/2012-05-29+14.22.52.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB4WZG_QaJE-330CjdY6tL-vDt0bDR768frzcN3brcAqSvubm17h-kgK-VVHXAJn8LDUMjGk-IKVyNHUje3KOq2owK0umbc9S5FUJCCP_Ua7-e-uAJO3Fb75GjNUuMVMLENOd0CA/s400/2012-05-29+14.22.52.jpg" width="297" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thomas in his element. </td></tr>
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As usual, Ben charged off the slide with sweet grace, setting another safety option for us, still waiting to drop in. Nick went next with a good line, but Thomas went off a little too far right, and by the luck of Lucifer's taint, exited the pothole and weir, upside-down. I had a nice ride and immediately asked the other people on the, before mentioned, ledge what was up.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1OfW6dnjyZ31grAKZmW3bPYhrZGw66F0_yjJTf2TM1Yu8jhu2Pz3fWAnY5fCk1bqEjs0ImpbvjkJwP4rJAuQAdsutRwB-x3F07AmEXNo4SmEJOKoyvJy7R3fMLZEDLkbYJ4pErQ/s1600/IMG_2123.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1OfW6dnjyZ31grAKZmW3bPYhrZGw66F0_yjJTf2TM1Yu8jhu2Pz3fWAnY5fCk1bqEjs0ImpbvjkJwP4rJAuQAdsutRwB-x3F07AmEXNo4SmEJOKoyvJy7R3fMLZEDLkbYJ4pErQ/s400/IMG_2123.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me kayaking. Photo by Nick Murphy</td></tr>
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Turns out one of the members of their group wasn't as lucky as Thomas, and got severely thrashed in the pothole and weir for about three minutes. Which left him life-less when they finally pulled him to shore. Being good educated kayakers, they performed proper CPR and brought him back to life. However, in the process, they cracked some ribs, and his boat was lost.<br />
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They informed us that they had activated their Spot device, which sends out an emergency signal to nearby rescue crews with their GPS coordinates. There wasn't much we could do to help, and being on a time constraint, we continued on downstream after giving them some positive re-reinforcement. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivQNv70epuZ2fWatlP_dy7sPIz-HmCoOi2VOQS_JBGNmDl9ggtBrzD1NXMpUrj4YSx3Y2QzBgjR_0KH5X5JEmYKZC8fqI-o_qwE8LOd-6GRud7_soRv-cakt_wzEK3VVRJiDkd9Q/s1600/2012-05-29+15.16.40.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivQNv70epuZ2fWatlP_dy7sPIz-HmCoOi2VOQS_JBGNmDl9ggtBrzD1NXMpUrj4YSx3Y2QzBgjR_0KH5X5JEmYKZC8fqI-o_qwE8LOd-6GRud7_soRv-cakt_wzEK3VVRJiDkd9Q/s320/2012-05-29+15.16.40.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Space-ship on the moon.</td></tr>
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Sure enough, the cavalry flew over us as we had just completed a rapid with a couple of potholes. We motioned to them we were all good, and they continued upstream to where they needed assistance. Amazingly, the helicopter flew into the epic slot canyon, and plucked the injured kayaker out with a high-tech fishing rod.<br />
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Nick was on a trip, on this same creek, last year when our friend Alan drowned in a stacked section of waterfalls. We paid respects to Alan, and our other deceased kayaker buddy Daniel DeLavergne. Ben even had some of Daniel's ashes that he scattered above a 30 foot waterfall that he said Daniel never ran. He had a great line as usual, without even scouting.<br />
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The river mellows out, shortly after said waterfalls, before it gains more volume from another sizable tributary. From there on, we routed the rapids, taking few breaks, pulling over to make a rare portage, and drain our leaky boats.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjonEkBe1aiDXY5AImpw7Pf-H_UVTJy5zkklX6Qq3LMtNXwppBiDO8b9YAZmPuKheWIhtWpIE1fOrBLXT4cc5ZjUAa7wnwq3f6t5b4XgqwisAwjnN1k6XT4GbMcRm-xVCzWqlfFcA/s1600/2012-05-29+15.16.53.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjonEkBe1aiDXY5AImpw7Pf-H_UVTJy5zkklX6Qq3LMtNXwppBiDO8b9YAZmPuKheWIhtWpIE1fOrBLXT4cc5ZjUAa7wnwq3f6t5b4XgqwisAwjnN1k6XT4GbMcRm-xVCzWqlfFcA/s320/2012-05-29+15.16.53.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Nice pool.</td></tr>
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At a certain point, you can start to see the lake, which is basically the finish line. Nevertheless, there are some burly rapids saved at the end. One of them even beat down upon Nick, forcing me to boof on top of him, and give him a little tow to shore. Further cementing the quote from the 7 rivers expedition van, "Pray to God, but row to shore!"<br />
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We finished the one-day mission with plenty of daylight. Meeting some more old friends at the take-out, further leading to mystery of multiple kayakers on an obscure high sierra creek. But hey, the more the merrier right? Not always. <br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_dYSmn3b5PUw04lG_RBbAySfhZh7JmWl2E-qc-G6N6V2Q1YC4kAADhuCLrSFfe5O_IVrhU85CJhWUIuOlg-YUnHZ15gi_lW4M2TRNz8_oyRUgfiClPwXRZ0SJs_RKUN1AoxO_BA/s1600/2012-05-29+19.19.17.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_dYSmn3b5PUw04lG_RBbAySfhZh7JmWl2E-qc-G6N6V2Q1YC4kAADhuCLrSFfe5O_IVrhU85CJhWUIuOlg-YUnHZ15gi_lW4M2TRNz8_oyRUgfiClPwXRZ0SJs_RKUN1AoxO_BA/s320/2012-05-29+19.19.17.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Old buddy Jake G.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I can honestly say that it was a great trip, but for whatever reason, seeing multiple different groups on a so-called wilderness run, definitely takes away from the experience in my opinion. Not to be a prick, but I prefer not seeing anybody besides your own crew. You experience solitude on so many remote class V rivers that you get spoiled, unaware that it might not always be a secluded spot. But in the lyrics of the Rolling Stones, "You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need"! I needed that trip like a squirrel needs nuts.<br />
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Be charged by what makes you feel joyfully alive! <br />
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<span id="taw" style="margin-right: 0pt;"><br /></span>the chargerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02660325895255791759noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18292914.post-85596563285973593392012-04-11T23:34:00.002-07:002012-04-11T23:34:47.916-07:00Cali ScrapbookSometimes I capture moments in time with a digital device that allows me to share my experiences. Some say sharing is caring. If that is the case, more people are caring than ever. Its amazing how many people view a video of someone's cat being 'funny'. So, I guess, its not too bad to post a short kayaking video with some profane obscenities at the end. I'm sorry if I offend anyone, but I was letting off some steam from a wicked thrashing. In my opinion, if it makes you feel better, let it out. Without further adieu, here is the video that Cody Howard and I made a while back, that I think you might find entertaining. I hope so... Cheers<br />
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<br />the chargerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02660325895255791759noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18292914.post-82251718522848765442012-02-29T00:36:00.007-08:002012-02-29T02:02:47.990-08:00Winter WanderingsWell, winter has been here for a while, but it hasn't felt like it, for the most part, in Northern California. We have been blessed, or should I say cursed, with abnormally warm and dry weather lately. However, there is hope in sight, which brings to light, thoughts of kayaking. No matter the weather, there always seems to be somewhere to go play in a little plastic boat that I have become so attached to. Dagger has designed two really amazing kayaks I love to paddle, which are the Nomad 8.5 and GreenBoat. They stay locked into the flow, and have a tendency to just go. Combine that with a Werner Shogun, and you're ready to put on a show. What else do you need to know? Here are some pictures I've taken over the past few months. Celebrated a most righteous 27th birthday with a bunch of fellow Chargers on the Bald Rock Canyon, always pleasing to the eye. Hope you are feeling prime, for whatever makes you feel Charged. <div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7H-0ddoIC56Zc3jHZV-86I_b68ym5680DXGB39p1IJOYdh7sW7ohmYRZlOs8BMzZ5Ct5Brh3s6m4IUtRNJxDsVnyFQODJ2yIdCMsPpR6tOiLdZqVZwyy24tazXpIbqhzpHiFFaw/s1600/P1210719.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7H-0ddoIC56Zc3jHZV-86I_b68ym5680DXGB39p1IJOYdh7sW7ohmYRZlOs8BMzZ5Ct5Brh3s6m4IUtRNJxDsVnyFQODJ2yIdCMsPpR6tOiLdZqVZwyy24tazXpIbqhzpHiFFaw/s400/P1210719.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714477825488508194" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Justin Patt sails his brand new, to him, Nomad on his birthday, on his favorite run, Purdons of the South Yuba. It was a good day!</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ELuW5hfSccYEpdgjhJuDtOSHakOLSvm8lRXTBqIdt3kuDHAhR2ZYDH0xz36XN1PulaeZh-OnUknOouJfurmO5KOyJa_vWDWJJdnBuLgckD_29WdsuHFoDa1kBK9We4YHpKW48w/s1600/P1210725.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2ELuW5hfSccYEpdgjhJuDtOSHakOLSvm8lRXTBqIdt3kuDHAhR2ZYDH0xz36XN1PulaeZh-OnUknOouJfurmO5KOyJa_vWDWJJdnBuLgckD_29WdsuHFoDa1kBK9We4YHpKW48w/s400/P1210725.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714477832603075298" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Thomas Moore is one of the few brave enough to take the GreenBoat on Purdons. He would say it makes some stuff easier, and some stuff harder, depending on your line. This is a good line.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNpD0d_Ce7zsvgrxzFFSxm8SaLOXFS2vnZwFR7jhSrCAULqu6Ds5fwu6nO-TxCFDcbYqxnKXiKI88D4OuZb6IgSfOupGrG0zUjDGcmds6drwd-OEnaEiFnbw-Sq_uycSDJd7Y-Sw/s1600/P1250740.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNpD0d_Ce7zsvgrxzFFSxm8SaLOXFS2vnZwFR7jhSrCAULqu6Ds5fwu6nO-TxCFDcbYqxnKXiKI88D4OuZb6IgSfOupGrG0zUjDGcmds6drwd-OEnaEiFnbw-Sq_uycSDJd7Y-Sw/s400/P1250740.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714477841306198946" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>World Traveler, Ben Stookesberry, charges into a burly rapid on Bald Rock. I think it was around 700 cfs for reference, and everyone felt like it was a great flow. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5wDO1Y6A8DI3U1IoNFI5CgryyJZPxkL3jDE3fiL7tvIlwkUUKg0tQCgchYwbtL63dJixRKFuhGzCD09LLfnu-85h0SACK47fqEWU7qFVVVmN36ld6HkdguM1s-THdx2nT23Nm2w/s1600/P1250744.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5wDO1Y6A8DI3U1IoNFI5CgryyJZPxkL3jDE3fiL7tvIlwkUUKg0tQCgchYwbtL63dJixRKFuhGzCD09LLfnu-85h0SACK47fqEWU7qFVVVmN36ld6HkdguM1s-THdx2nT23Nm2w/s400/P1250744.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714477845826647778" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>While not the greatest picture, you can see just how backed up this hole is. Taylor Robertson is like the Mayor of Bald Rock, and has earned some serious charge-ability in there!</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBqPIUdmaMoWKVqHs3sxARhLgP9lGWT_MhUsDwNLFM0TqG1WQywfWBq9Hv1l-7pQcekVf_FOo9sui7UPg-QtcueO18tz2xrmjjgVR0SVl4J9dWeGZtjVVm4NaXDT6ZZ2vo5aLmGg/s1600/P1310777.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBqPIUdmaMoWKVqHs3sxARhLgP9lGWT_MhUsDwNLFM0TqG1WQywfWBq9Hv1l-7pQcekVf_FOo9sui7UPg-QtcueO18tz2xrmjjgVR0SVl4J9dWeGZtjVVm4NaXDT6ZZ2vo5aLmGg/s400/P1310777.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714477853093329714" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>We had a huge crew on my birthday, and thanks to Sarah, our awesome shuttle driver, all ten of us crammed into Jason Hale's trusty Tundra for a one way trip. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnl8CUunNopPdKHhuTxXvuEo3npeJuK4HY8b1PPSmkbRcvW8AOcPupkCvquLIq5fHne9tWjiu3tL30V_pvUp7daBrum_YyD9AlwUKS_PRgUPeHymLrWdimROBoyHeIx8QWysMasg/s1600/P1310785.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnl8CUunNopPdKHhuTxXvuEo3npeJuK4HY8b1PPSmkbRcvW8AOcPupkCvquLIq5fHne9tWjiu3tL30V_pvUp7daBrum_YyD9AlwUKS_PRgUPeHymLrWdimROBoyHeIx8QWysMasg/s400/P1310785.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714483151206644642" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Water, granite, gradient, good times. Drew Duval and Alex Herr in the gorge.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuo6j-pXWBl90khEcXI2g_BSjx1MKbSo9K6ddezKUF1TI3xZRwvA3kBRhZ-bMbVKLCnBxNGDARvLD2cjiYYOsD3HbyaLsu7vXwLOGv2NDKmsB_EW924OCr01WGNd0c2BTpLnrjNQ/s1600/P1310789.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuo6j-pXWBl90khEcXI2g_BSjx1MKbSo9K6ddezKUF1TI3xZRwvA3kBRhZ-bMbVKLCnBxNGDARvLD2cjiYYOsD3HbyaLsu7vXwLOGv2NDKmsB_EW924OCr01WGNd0c2BTpLnrjNQ/s400/P1310789.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714483160746934050" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Peacher and I decided to route the smear boof, which made the portage interesting. You can see the tip of the GreenBoat in the pic. It was awesome on the river, and the lake.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilsienBIrZEW3oMiLESyUz2A8AJpv6opNeJ6-7mozrO8OdPj1Gd0m-bQO_vlAONgv1c7Z2J_Qt56v3lHB7CQ7nLVppQ08ZhyRPmPbXTxs6yDQSliSVVuM9Ag4dX-BsK3Cz_7R8dg/s1600/P1310795.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilsienBIrZEW3oMiLESyUz2A8AJpv6opNeJ6-7mozrO8OdPj1Gd0m-bQO_vlAONgv1c7Z2J_Qt56v3lHB7CQ7nLVppQ08ZhyRPmPbXTxs6yDQSliSVVuM9Ag4dX-BsK3Cz_7R8dg/s400/P1310795.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714483165827946530" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>The crew chilling next to the un-run Atom Bomb falls. Maybe one day someone will run it...</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinFgIM0OJpebFei21vPp-9z_unsq-TlwVUFVCNueuVifHkLC6_PAnfoNVoHtvVnf9tGmNCQBnQGrQLjYndM8ubztwLk9WXOLNCyqL4xWoT2-G4d_UYZsCuDW6I3HoYhFhIBkvluw/s1600/P1310798.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinFgIM0OJpebFei21vPp-9z_unsq-TlwVUFVCNueuVifHkLC6_PAnfoNVoHtvVnf9tGmNCQBnQGrQLjYndM8ubztwLk9WXOLNCyqL4xWoT2-G4d_UYZsCuDW6I3HoYhFhIBkvluw/s400/P1310798.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714483168149344338" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Jason Hale executing a beautiful seal launch into a nice swirly pool. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ksn8naB_mjPzg14kqRovAcQIB1Guh_wL7_iBFd7QzUYKVXqnJ9_28XYzDQ3flo14H_ZKO5lhJA_0ENc6nBorheOBPNfBSf8crczR1VzZTggDzvTEA9V883v3sgL8xQKFuAOtdw/s1600/P1310803.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9ksn8naB_mjPzg14kqRovAcQIB1Guh_wL7_iBFd7QzUYKVXqnJ9_28XYzDQ3flo14H_ZKO5lhJA_0ENc6nBorheOBPNfBSf8crczR1VzZTggDzvTEA9V883v3sgL8xQKFuAOtdw/s400/P1310803.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714483172904710114" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Curtain Falls is the highlight of Bald Rock. Even at 500cfs, Alex Herr sends his Nomad flying.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyYkym4sqMPLuTpbFxxBMuyJ_518cDHhItoawmjF_o65Yj7iL_EGFNZOz2A4r1IKlLesLb7UTSlG8E0oXgF41wxR34_tRkj_PVaMM1m7YoibLHuTs_JZoc-O3NHLsbWUQZPOEDqw/s1600/P2040834.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyYkym4sqMPLuTpbFxxBMuyJ_518cDHhItoawmjF_o65Yj7iL_EGFNZOz2A4r1IKlLesLb7UTSlG8E0oXgF41wxR34_tRkj_PVaMM1m7YoibLHuTs_JZoc-O3NHLsbWUQZPOEDqw/s400/P2040834.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714488482925225778" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>And when no other rivers are running, we can count on recreational releases every weekend on the South Fork of the American. Mike Peacher, surfs out into Barking Dogg on a sunny sunday. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmhlxJof3t5oYIZufVaEuq6BgrKz2AJkhwTOYH5UbqbLgazt1FEhdiRGW2B2hsvhzDtN2DH04dZXcNr27QS2wTcdxUYeeNkSFvuQjBm0YzPaUCs8DzGsZQDuLaRX-f_gU8AphBmA/s1600/IMG_0036.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmhlxJof3t5oYIZufVaEuq6BgrKz2AJkhwTOYH5UbqbLgazt1FEhdiRGW2B2hsvhzDtN2DH04dZXcNr27QS2wTcdxUYeeNkSFvuQjBm0YzPaUCs8DzGsZQDuLaRX-f_gU8AphBmA/s400/IMG_0036.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714489335251599538" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Speaking of Barking Dogs, I just got a new pup I named Jah Lion. Here he is scouting South Deer creek falls, but knows it needs more flow. His wisdom is deep, just like the pool below.</div><div><br /></div><div>Cheers-- Will Pruett</div>the chargerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02660325895255791759noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18292914.post-34820314853380403782012-01-04T00:29:00.000-08:002012-01-09T19:33:00.419-08:00Farewell 2011All come to Bald Rock. Out in the street, they call it murder. At around 300 cfs, most people will, at least, say its too low. A 'Wild and Scenic' river shines forth though, showing that while other rivers may be too low, it still has 'just enough' flow. The Middle Feather's source high in the Sierras is still melting, giving us water to enjoy a fine river gorge over New Years Eve. Serving as the take-out for multiple other kayak runs, Milsap Bar is the remote put-in for this California classic. What lies downstream is a deep, dark, smooth, and spectacular gorge that demands respect. Even at, what could be, the lowest flow ever paddled, this river still packs a punch you wouldn't want to serve to an unknowing bystander. <div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSOKoRS9l7OnpgPcH0nOlEKOcX0M-z7fSrbLgxQFHSoqZD5Fsnv7OFOMefgnRCwcRop4kpmUl24Omay_7UCalOwL8LmYssJkOK-3Z9j42EEzIsY2L-MI2E8G9sEdfsJJb73IYeLA/s1600/PC310569.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSOKoRS9l7OnpgPcH0nOlEKOcX0M-z7fSrbLgxQFHSoqZD5Fsnv7OFOMefgnRCwcRop4kpmUl24Omay_7UCalOwL8LmYssJkOK-3Z9j42EEzIsY2L-MI2E8G9sEdfsJJb73IYeLA/s400/PC310569.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694305281081342226" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><br /></div><div>Meet Mike Peacher, he's a whitewater assassin. Lead him to the burl, and he will charge.</div><div><br /></div><div>Looking at the river gauges on Dreamflows.com, I began to realize how dry the state of California actually is right now. Nonetheless, having probed the South Yuba river at extremely low flows recently, I began to question whether Bald Rock would still be relatively runnable at 300cfs. I convinced myself and Mike Peacher it was. Therefore, we set in motion a plan to kayak into Bald Rock canyon and spend the night on December 31st 2011. What we would take away from the experience was a series of trials and tribulations that you can only get from an expedition, of sorts. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFu7SjJMTEOnFLfFijsTRl5xr_5nLZCYRPCduFUn1CyCqrwcYpKUrMcFxMuKTe-MqncyXwXUgrFvWiBIxPQ07iNcVEhtlbk9v3JJqStGdjrx0Xw4UUf_EHDx0cZNowR-i8Igr5PA/s1600/PC310572.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFu7SjJMTEOnFLfFijsTRl5xr_5nLZCYRPCduFUn1CyCqrwcYpKUrMcFxMuKTe-MqncyXwXUgrFvWiBIxPQ07iNcVEhtlbk9v3JJqStGdjrx0Xw4UUf_EHDx0cZNowR-i8Igr5PA/s400/PC310572.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694305284337023314" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><br /></div><div>Committing to the canyon at Milsap Bar, later than hoped, as usual.</div><div><br /></div><div>After getting lost a few times, we made it to Milsap Bar and made our vessels ready to launch for an over-nighter. Having heard stories of car theft at Milsap, I made sure to hide my keys in a super-obscure, debris-infested, hillside, to prevent possible foul-play. I was asking for it.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbeiCRSbyPoh5JydCNZcQN-d4XS6A8dzsU4kvQqeZXY4hIFdQ4KBi2mzGT8W5GK22mKkGGKvcFADuYDa1WaVtj9Qms73HpFPhaMK80XaNV10u_pQSps8yGE80L1Oh_JlLudqGTKQ/s1600/PC310575.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbeiCRSbyPoh5JydCNZcQN-d4XS6A8dzsU4kvQqeZXY4hIFdQ4KBi2mzGT8W5GK22mKkGGKvcFADuYDa1WaVtj9Qms73HpFPhaMK80XaNV10u_pQSps8yGE80L1Oh_JlLudqGTKQ/s400/PC310575.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694305295785442274" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><br /></div><div>It channelizes well, making it feel somewhat pushy, even at meager flow. </div><div><br /></div><div>To our pleasant surprise, the river was very gentle and pleasing, as we found the narrow lines easily. Sure, the huge granite stones were exposing more of their ugly under-sides, but the river also allowed us more freedom to avoid them. With the bad, also comes some good. Peacher, having never done the run before, was stoked to be mobbing some burl, as was I. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTuTD9oMYzSMfjFM4IkRFvStn0_BZ5Ty75g827DVMlxtA7yPOzfFjpZVyWex99-wqgkDvkD-Ir3HTTx9O-jxJRAS_dJHpbu5ofKrAC6U9NVlkmEq6Xre4SmTMk2iHhZTYzJm-BmQ/s1600/PC310584.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTuTD9oMYzSMfjFM4IkRFvStn0_BZ5Ty75g827DVMlxtA7yPOzfFjpZVyWex99-wqgkDvkD-Ir3HTTx9O-jxJRAS_dJHpbu5ofKrAC6U9NVlkmEq6Xre4SmTMk2iHhZTYzJm-BmQ/s400/PC310584.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694305299410527010" style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a><br /></div><div>The eye of Bald Rock looks on. </div><div><br /></div><div>Before too long, we reached the entrance to Atom Bomb gorge, the crux of the run. Unfortunately, the lead-in rapid was a bit too rich for our taste, and so we made a sketchy portage up and over some icy boulders. I decided to check out the river-left side of what is normally a portage at higher flows. I quickly exclaimed, "Oh my god!" to Mike, as I caught my first glimpse of the drop. It was good-to-go! </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCyimDm7Aly1ozaCCZr_iu4iHRFy-rFfumpxjGycJB5o5iwgVp6VSPpUad1PArt5n5IC2UwMFmiLqm-UDffuq9ahRFrnmrskWYiUG5R3SHYgd43H7C-eNiig2OtpTtLcB8iAMetA/s1600/PC310593.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCyimDm7Aly1ozaCCZr_iu4iHRFy-rFfumpxjGycJB5o5iwgVp6VSPpUad1PArt5n5IC2UwMFmiLqm-UDffuq9ahRFrnmrskWYiUG5R3SHYgd43H7C-eNiig2OtpTtLcB8iAMetA/s400/PC310593.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694305310651796418" style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a><br /></div><div>Squeezing through, like mustard out of a bottle. </div><div><br /></div><div>Speed is the key to bridging a gap. I charged the not-even-boat-width crack and somehow found purchase in the meager 50cfs flowing through. I propelled myself through that gap successfully, and enjoyed the calm, deep, pool below. Peacher went next and didn't have quite as much speed, and somewhat wave-wheeled the drop. But it still looked pretty tight. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0QspXse_pko5W2fHsXrk9VIGlOcePpjd7bzAyXOSuen5F14fduJUOmboKqcFQHLtPgkSZYzcJh8wgOjkG9N3mhcANOnmTHclJWNCZfAy1DlXE1WZ6N8pYobONzyeJUdieVDPXUg/s1600/PC310598.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0QspXse_pko5W2fHsXrk9VIGlOcePpjd7bzAyXOSuen5F14fduJUOmboKqcFQHLtPgkSZYzcJh8wgOjkG9N3mhcANOnmTHclJWNCZfAy1DlXE1WZ6N8pYobONzyeJUdieVDPXUg/s400/PC310598.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694316231194857026" style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a><br /></div><div>Finding the path.</div><div><br /></div><div>The exit of the drop was a debris infested sieve, but with minimal flow, we were able to find a safe passage, which allowed us to avoid the infamous 'hairy ferry'. Makes me wonder if anyone else has run that drop before. By this time, it was getting dark, and so we carried our boats around the massive Bishop-sized boulders. Finding a perfect camp-spot, with plenty of weathered driftwood, and a nearby cliff to keep us on our game, even through the late-night Tequila shots.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjYwFhF14MTsVrC4aZTL3BfN2DH1zU5NpFeJuoEr3woTX6E2nj79wQz3Yygvaz-4YzFiSm-NT9H4DpwOT8UHXR3OnU7VSuw9owLBh3sOV2nYhudf57lucvCFlPBVpTdtotvUnBmQ/s1600/PC310617.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjYwFhF14MTsVrC4aZTL3BfN2DH1zU5NpFeJuoEr3woTX6E2nj79wQz3Yygvaz-4YzFiSm-NT9H4DpwOT8UHXR3OnU7VSuw9owLBh3sOV2nYhudf57lucvCFlPBVpTdtotvUnBmQ/s400/PC310617.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694316240645699634" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div>Living on the edge, quite literally. </div><div><br /></div><div>New Years Eve is, for most people, the biggest party night of the year. We, on the other hand, were alone in a remote river canyon, reminiscing about all the other great river-trips we had taken that year. It was a windy night that kept the fire raging all night. Luckily, there was a plethora of large, beautiful, driftwood lodged in the high-water sieves, providing wonderful camp fuel, for warmth and cooking. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPBzk37Xc0Dpi5LrB0OEtfAJN_PEMBYCAYaS-HWMLS2EJF5d_4Q2BFAv8GvAGdQhmnYJYwkeBDPD9LMzTL9YKzLb-2-lK6osXGZtgS3wWM-waEjfRrujFb23GMEv_ixO0QiJSDnQ/s1600/PC310654.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPBzk37Xc0Dpi5LrB0OEtfAJN_PEMBYCAYaS-HWMLS2EJF5d_4Q2BFAv8GvAGdQhmnYJYwkeBDPD9LMzTL9YKzLb-2-lK6osXGZtgS3wWM-waEjfRrujFb23GMEv_ixO0QiJSDnQ/s400/PC310654.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694316263341731986" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div>We awoke, later than hoped, thanks to Tequila, to find a glorious California day of sunny blue skies warming up the trees, rocks, birds, and burl for 2012. We scouted the final drop of Atom Bomb falls from our boats, and I declared I wouldn't run it without heavy back-up on hand, to save me in case of an easily botch-able line. It exudes some serious power, even though the flow had dropped even further than the previous, last day of 2011.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB72C2zhAFomkYHWuNbiGYbpX3PDaRaWHMPIyn5rpJl6s2ALzEdJsIfZ6Xl7M9quoOzz6npc6TCQ4LT87IgslEhXxP3ao6oiYuTwn1vi9hu2dO3871tjK_HunaGCBl9_o1dQrV0Q/s1600/P1010663.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB72C2zhAFomkYHWuNbiGYbpX3PDaRaWHMPIyn5rpJl6s2ALzEdJsIfZ6Xl7M9quoOzz6npc6TCQ4LT87IgslEhXxP3ao6oiYuTwn1vi9hu2dO3871tjK_HunaGCBl9_o1dQrV0Q/s400/P1010663.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694316943519360386" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div>Here, Peacher examines the ultra-burly final falls. </div><div><br /></div><div>Shortly downstream of Atom Bomb, there is, what I like to refer to as, The Rok Sieve. I haven't seen the GoPro footage, but Rok told me he accidentally charged in blind, once. Which lead to an epic, all-team swim through a nasty sieve. We portaged it of course, as Curtain Falls thunders shortly downstream, stoking us up, for a nice 20 foot waterfall. Well, it wasn't much of a falls this day, but got our blood pumping nonetheless. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE47MFdt7UtnI7dpAtLlC_F6vY4t46jn6BU5Vo1ZfwGoO2l2FOfUCTD4HS_TNiwWCW6HV65ORIfn85969b3pa20BI06YaHT-1taYkWsnFKn1Aj-1Kz4o8Gb050jFNQcH9HOB6gRQ/s1600/P1010664.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE47MFdt7UtnI7dpAtLlC_F6vY4t46jn6BU5Vo1ZfwGoO2l2FOfUCTD4HS_TNiwWCW6HV65ORIfn85969b3pa20BI06YaHT-1taYkWsnFKn1Aj-1Kz4o8Gb050jFNQcH9HOB6gRQ/s400/P1010664.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694316949223232818" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div>Floating down a perfect ramp of the earth, Mike Peacher enjoys the Curtain.</div><div><br /></div><div>The river was pretty deceiving at the low-flow, as I scouted a rapid I thought was easily runnable. To my dismay, I got pinned on a stone in the middle of the river, and felt the boat flexing under me. Somehow, I wiggled off unharmed, but my boat suffered a devastating blow, that breached its integrity on the side. No worries, I can paddle with water coming in my boat, for a while, at least.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibhCWDC2eDtJARHnTgjN8gI9FRHmHAM_AIgkYRMnU5O9btuOze7hzRGkD0qHwRjsgBblSoWmaHlaK9CGTFQZabCcY6Dc0f0EFjfzTZTJf_MX7A6rNTntpnvHx8vYQRtruqRkoKgQ/s1600/P1010668.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibhCWDC2eDtJARHnTgjN8gI9FRHmHAM_AIgkYRMnU5O9btuOze7hzRGkD0qHwRjsgBblSoWmaHlaK9CGTFQZabCcY6Dc0f0EFjfzTZTJf_MX7A6rNTntpnvHx8vYQRtruqRkoKgQ/s400/P1010668.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694316959850778322" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div>As you can see, it was still pretty exciting in there. </div><div><br /></div><div>There were many more 'pretty-burly' rapids than I remembered, towards the end of the run. Keeping us on our toes until we saw the massive Feather Falls cascading down the river-left, where Fall Creek enters, with just a trickle on this day. I guess most fishermen were hungover from NYE, forcing us to paddle the 3 miles of flat-water to my friends property on Bean Creek. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr9ZACNHDbW9flwzzYAFJUfuFddYuWW3OeBeKhiZ4StUmmYM5KNNal12rsqi8KZtFrsGFpHr-UsRTv4BODF3CRPdrk5RkOL1fOVDgs4GVw33hAyEX9qzAHo1fqSCyJN5oIXSM59Q/s1600/P1010669.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr9ZACNHDbW9flwzzYAFJUfuFddYuWW3OeBeKhiZ4StUmmYM5KNNal12rsqi8KZtFrsGFpHr-UsRTv4BODF3CRPdrk5RkOL1fOVDgs4GVw33hAyEX9qzAHo1fqSCyJN5oIXSM59Q/s400/P1010669.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694316961596143922" style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a></div><div>It was tight.</div><div><br /></div><div>I made a horrible decision. It looked like there was a trail going back upstream to a road not too far from the lake. Key word, looked. It didn't exist, and we were forced to do some of the hardest 'shwacking' I've ever done. I lost it at one point. Yelling seemed to help me deal with the stress of carrying a heavy kayak through a steep, thick, and slick forest. But hey, that which does not kill you, only makes you stronger, right? </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYsBjrCmecU1TeSu79HbAkWkgICNtwnnpcyLR-Oaz1wOn2G4jRqH2P2wcLuX0S8GqrgrUsI8YBSFBMgKlv2iIANVWBjLyWIfLYOTMbigVfiQ32FpL_yHXU47KOgTMSGMcRm0tByw/s1600/P1010670.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYsBjrCmecU1TeSu79HbAkWkgICNtwnnpcyLR-Oaz1wOn2G4jRqH2P2wcLuX0S8GqrgrUsI8YBSFBMgKlv2iIANVWBjLyWIfLYOTMbigVfiQ32FpL_yHXU47KOgTMSGMcRm0tByw/s400/P1010670.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694316971348838370" style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a></div><div>Bald Rock.</div><div><br /></div><div>Well, if you are interested in doing this run, feel free to e-mail me at willpruett@gmail.com for directions on where and how to park at my friends land on Bean Creek. He is super-cool and willing to run shuttles for beer. He fed us some amazing lentils and rice that really hit the spot, and then drove us back to Milsap Bar. Where we found that my keys were stolen by some mischievous creature. We thoroughly scoured the hill I left them on, and found no trace of them. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqlj_1EvsNsbDm9zT5ryGLKhS62lPBvfAnnBnUA1a5jFGi0N4ye1g4LzKBZjnQFwP0cDCCTZyU-IF9JZjK83XfICBLfbjXRQ5qwpm0hSKJaUVv8Sa5vFqQwo0X28Bhsn3P_Lpypw/s1600/P1010660.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqlj_1EvsNsbDm9zT5ryGLKhS62lPBvfAnnBnUA1a5jFGi0N4ye1g4LzKBZjnQFwP0cDCCTZyU-IF9JZjK83XfICBLfbjXRQ5qwpm0hSKJaUVv8Sa5vFqQwo0X28Bhsn3P_Lpypw/s400/P1010660.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694316267504481730" style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a></div><div>Leaving our trace.</div><div><br /></div><div>We got the old Subaru hot-wired pretty easily, but didn't realize, until after Joe left, that my steering-wheel lock was still engaged. Leaving Peacher and I stranded in a remote spot. So, we made the best of it, and slept in the car, occasionally cranking the engine to heat us up. The next day, we hiked the 9 miles back to HWY 162 and called our good buddy Justin Patt. He came to our rescue with pizza, beer, and most-importantly a drill. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEDg10Z0Qeq1z4zXtwMSe9Xgczr-yLsReT6E7FbsajiXDchZIWYqb6BLYic_tXK8tooBT1Va-8E3eshruJ1EfGCoXehzeMPyN6uPQEuE1EyzdD5XdDgqZSR8mllIlenaqmsZhwOA/s1600/PC310613.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEDg10Z0Qeq1z4zXtwMSe9Xgczr-yLsReT6E7FbsajiXDchZIWYqb6BLYic_tXK8tooBT1Va-8E3eshruJ1EfGCoXehzeMPyN6uPQEuE1EyzdD5XdDgqZSR8mllIlenaqmsZhwOA/s400/PC310613.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5694316250254194050" style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a></div><div>Its always worth it, no matter what happens in the end. </div><div><br /></div><div>A little elbow grease later, and we were back on the road, mission almost complete. Keys just weren't on our side this trip, as we couldn't find the key to Joe's gate either. Forcing us to hike a mile down his road, and back up with all our gear. It wasn't nothing but a chicken-wing on a string!</div><div><br /></div><div>Bald Rock is one, hell of a way, to start a year, which I'm sure is going to test us just like every year. But thats what keeps me 'Charged Up', seeking the next adventure, not knowing how its all gonna work out. Keep exploring!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div>the chargerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02660325895255791759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18292914.post-37598894616394638502011-12-29T13:59:00.000-08:002011-12-30T17:29:38.194-08:00Connoisseur's Run<div>Cane Creek into North Chickamauga.</div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGQTNYhduE8yqq2GwaRyz8mT6dZi_ZJMH-HEr9G39F3ckan3bB7yMLTYGijSrOk50YWTYEGMGuaHBsaz4tQ-fSTgiNb2PYAWvFfu6akzDI_Qa0Ni7rueiOZgG1yxekZKdH0_dPoQ/s1600/PC270560.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGQTNYhduE8yqq2GwaRyz8mT6dZi_ZJMH-HEr9G39F3ckan3bB7yMLTYGijSrOk50YWTYEGMGuaHBsaz4tQ-fSTgiNb2PYAWvFfu6akzDI_Qa0Ni7rueiOZgG1yxekZKdH0_dPoQ/s400/PC270560.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692095264690124658" /></a><div><br />Well, I wouldn't have said it myself, but after hearing my Team Jib partners give it the title, I agree that Cane creek into North Chickamauga is a connoisseur's run. Actually, it was the first 'real' creek I ever paddled. I don't consider Tellico a 'real' creek run because it is roadside. Cane is decently remote once you are in there. I heard that some people recently did an unintentional over-nighter due to high water. With that being said, I greatly enjoyed an afternoon run with a huge crew of 14 people. </div><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-lyA17MXWrvh9TGgWGVPYA2j5R92iTsKAIsObeZcFTmc75bAqxvqgsiMuhew9tstgtqmtmgQvhysUg0LGYdsZ5RmPrmKqTdMNHydYbQ_dh3OHmB4po4MjHfqRxwqZmg01E4HQYw/s1600/PC270537.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-lyA17MXWrvh9TGgWGVPYA2j5R92iTsKAIsObeZcFTmc75bAqxvqgsiMuhew9tstgtqmtmgQvhysUg0LGYdsZ5RmPrmKqTdMNHydYbQ_dh3OHmB4po4MjHfqRxwqZmg01E4HQYw/s400/PC270537.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692093891422680626" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><br /></div><div>Team Jib OGs- Bryce Evans, Ryan Eichorn, Jason Arnold, and Brian Knight at the put-in.</div><div><br /></div><div>I forgot my helmet at the take-out. Luckily, a few guys from the northeast named Chris and David let me borrow their Shred Ready full-face. It felt weird. I hand paddled down the first mile because Taft Sibley said he found a Werner Shogun with pogies at the first portage on his first run. My hands almost froze during that first low-volume mile. I celebrated at the sight of a real paddle with pogies, but quickly lost stoke when I realized it was a zero degree off set. Once again, it felt weird. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvEnCKZeVsgrxkWmXti7naHEoZz_5KD1MMCJgs5PNTBFeDWCm4C66wiRJd7yn1TY9jsCTE-XQ-PxsX3AO6JjpQNDOPT_1KQraOZfpLqL4rpgP0AY3XJuwA4-8GaAHEk2-XWozABw/s1600/PC270538.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvEnCKZeVsgrxkWmXti7naHEoZz_5KD1MMCJgs5PNTBFeDWCm4C66wiRJd7yn1TY9jsCTE-XQ-PxsX3AO6JjpQNDOPT_1KQraOZfpLqL4rpgP0AY3XJuwA4-8GaAHEk2-XWozABw/s400/PC270538.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692093895581558706" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><br /></div><div>Here is David from the NE entering the Vortex.</div><div><br /></div><div>As usual, my Team Jib buddies left me in the dust. I took a new line in the entry to Big Splat that got my heart pumping with the threat of a piton. The Nomad kept me safe, continually showing its love for me. Upon reaching the lip of Vortex, the biggest rapid on the run, I bluntly stated to my newfound NE friends that we had a long way to go, and that they needed to Charge in order to not get 'unintentionally overnighted'! They took the suggestion with great heed and quickly fired into Vortex. I was impressed with their 'Charge-ability'! </div><div><br /></div><div>The next rapid is called Drain Pipe, and everyone flowed through nicely. A massive overhanging ledge extends over the river called Rock House, a typical sight in the sandstone laden Chattanooga area. We made quick work of the following boogie water that leads to the confluence with North Chickamauga. Here, it picks up some more volume and develops some stellar swirls, waves, and holes. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk77uHsCRViAD8HAm4lCGEgQ0hWqaNnptLI_GAWZz1B8ExIEU4N8a5cpFdT0vCKh9hLs5pRIov2aZPCqdoTbEIbtoFNMvSFOWkHNLJAG86p6qOI3KjSGzZDNVWphRGmsKxbHidvg/s1600/PC270548.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk77uHsCRViAD8HAm4lCGEgQ0hWqaNnptLI_GAWZz1B8ExIEU4N8a5cpFdT0vCKh9hLs5pRIov2aZPCqdoTbEIbtoFNMvSFOWkHNLJAG86p6qOI3KjSGzZDNVWphRGmsKxbHidvg/s400/PC270548.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692093917143784418" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><br /></div><div>Nick Murphy, hot off his Chile charge, mobbed the main line of N. Chick falls.</div><div><br /></div><div>North Chick falls is a cool rapid that gives up some pretty sweet boofs. If you run it down the meat, you might have a bit more splashy and exciting ride. The crew did laps on it, and Taft Sibley intentionally took a surf in the entrance hole, that was so strong, it blew his skirt. Luckily, Taft is a Jimi-Cup champion squirt boater, and gracefully docked his Eskimo on the bank without having to swim. A good thing on such a cold day.</div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfX5UhHkhynZWSe4VYk-Tb_uxkfbemd0NhSTILeE3aJylq0GOV9t1YhU4osdc5iokzdncGziGpFIu3plg24S3SVyMjJ7N3RA2AIRnexVvKJyP0ZGfecIFqJAsoogJ7_KJ9MmVooQ/s1600/PC270543.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfX5UhHkhynZWSe4VYk-Tb_uxkfbemd0NhSTILeE3aJylq0GOV9t1YhU4osdc5iokzdncGziGpFIu3plg24S3SVyMjJ7N3RA2AIRnexVvKJyP0ZGfecIFqJAsoogJ7_KJ9MmVooQ/s400/PC270543.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692093911511798594" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><br /></div><div>Bett Adams executes a textbook boof. </div><div><br /></div><div>I forgot how many nice playspots there are on the run, making me wish I had brought a playboat. We moved along at a nice pace, then eddied out to watch our younger female friend Mary Katherine get beat-down in some rowdy holes. She took a few swims, but kept a great attitude and finished the run strong. We didn't want to spend the night in there, and charged through the Bowling Alley section rapidly. I remember when I used to run that section after school all the time. There are some interesting swirls in there. </div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPFGRYjjeTDC84Hrwm89VyNCw39EWrRPO24f80glU2SLAw7xvuHABh2ElBg8idNOQtUZ6rYI0XN6q40mr1bGzIeorCwZ2gn6pHR7WWDlKEOLhLmKzmYXaP_3y5HUJIcdaQPRe-dw/s1600/PC270557.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPFGRYjjeTDC84Hrwm89VyNCw39EWrRPO24f80glU2SLAw7xvuHABh2ElBg8idNOQtUZ6rYI0XN6q40mr1bGzIeorCwZ2gn6pHR7WWDlKEOLhLmKzmYXaP_3y5HUJIcdaQPRe-dw/s400/PC270557.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5692093930898184706" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a><br /></div><div>Mary Katherine driving her Nomad like a champion. </div><div><br /></div><div>Overall, Cane into North Chick is a really quality float with a multitude of styles of rapids, that makes you feel like you're getting a full tour de rio. We only had to portage one log at the gauge for Cane. I always enjoy a run with few portages, as I like staying in my boat. Twas a fine visit back to Chattanooga, and lucked out with the presence of rain, breathing life into the rivers of my hometown. Now, I'm stoked to be back in California. I think we're gonna do an low-flow overnighter on the Bald Rock to ring in the New Year on a beautiful river. Cheers to the New Year! </div></div>the chargerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02660325895255791759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18292914.post-51940552488903462722011-12-21T23:04:00.000-08:002011-12-22T09:46:29.253-08:00BlessingBear creek in Georgia is most definitely a blessing. As with most stellar rewards, they come in short, unpredictable, spells that leave us craving more. After running the Bear, even at a low flow of 9'', I feel satisfied with my return home, beyond just seeing my family. For once in the history of FULL THROTTLE, I am writing this post immediately after the event went down. I rounded up what old-school gear I could find in the barn, and borrowed a Nomad from my boy Nick Murphy. While sorting through gear at Jib Headquarters, I found an old seven2 paddle I figured Paul Hubbard wouldn't mind me using. I mobbed to the river and found my friends Crisler Torrence and Luke Scott at the put-in. The hair of the Bear will always give you a good scare! So, without further ado, I give you the pictures from the trip.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH4A88lGbDJxv1P1OcaBPc5J6bspkiLVLwfEGcPt9laJi708aZQjyI4KJ4oTFo-J1oTvarmd4fxUoHuIS2pGJ7T09RF90ErbO0AeF9fxydpSxah7-cP3TrM3QCr4ZDwyUiNL_ytg/s1600/PC210486.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH4A88lGbDJxv1P1OcaBPc5J6bspkiLVLwfEGcPt9laJi708aZQjyI4KJ4oTFo-J1oTvarmd4fxUoHuIS2pGJ7T09RF90ErbO0AeF9fxydpSxah7-cP3TrM3QCr4ZDwyUiNL_ytg/s400/PC210486.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688987157952988850" border="0" /></a><br />Chrisler is happy to be on the water, even in an old-school Y. Little did we know, this would be the old boat's last run.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCwC6ebKOiYr4hmSNF3x6ro0maYIC6ESrxCyb-yoJcR1JkVD3_IPDIUDCBOnQKdPwxrs4Gf_KbcTcAF5dq7-1VDPLU3ypqkVOD8bBlQapPI02xCIa7fTcw-OJQA-gEdkmwmiXEMg/s1600/PC210487.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCwC6ebKOiYr4hmSNF3x6ro0maYIC6ESrxCyb-yoJcR1JkVD3_IPDIUDCBOnQKdPwxrs4Gf_KbcTcAF5dq7-1VDPLU3ypqkVOD8bBlQapPI02xCIa7fTcw-OJQA-gEdkmwmiXEMg/s400/PC210487.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688987165088064754" border="0" /></a><br />The creek starts off with some low-angle, bedrock, slides that are perfect for warming up.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTNAUNUIqilx-gpwG5F8dLU_fOF8fd5JIgVi8FLNiLyDCIBzVTMDJRHFmL1BhsUmxlWTR0WZiVid630bsgRIs7JCVoA0Wxd1EEY8eSXBeag67o4R8jEOliiABDBEXEWEjgNBiMug/s1600/PC210489.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTNAUNUIqilx-gpwG5F8dLU_fOF8fd5JIgVi8FLNiLyDCIBzVTMDJRHFmL1BhsUmxlWTR0WZiVid630bsgRIs7JCVoA0Wxd1EEY8eSXBeag67o4R8jEOliiABDBEXEWEjgNBiMug/s400/PC210489.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688987170690124114" border="0" /></a><br />The sandstone geology of Lookout Mtn. reminds me that I'm home. Overhanging rocks are common here.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfMV4TL9aIDDRkA7jwTgDt8PF1UMBujV9t3-1cKtvteYEFPKlmrzkHML4vrkQ9OIKH5_Q-x1u9Gwi-_iw6tdLscdiKGkPgll3UdANC2kTtT8yBW2ynNXr5my7cbTQ4MskCKMAQQQ/s1600/PC210490.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfMV4TL9aIDDRkA7jwTgDt8PF1UMBujV9t3-1cKtvteYEFPKlmrzkHML4vrkQ9OIKH5_Q-x1u9Gwi-_iw6tdLscdiKGkPgll3UdANC2kTtT8yBW2ynNXr5my7cbTQ4MskCKMAQQQ/s400/PC210490.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688987180860702002" border="0" /></a><br />The only portage of the day, simply because there wasn't enough water to take the 'normal' sneak line down Surrealistic Pillow.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil0FtK-n-hND4JBIwtVUatfe5bGyRyU5r35-JmoJbzEMF3KmXCcB5bPGjc6Lt8jIgbZzFSZ2ihBQ4nhLSBmkeRnUFxVwT9-ZSuMRQrNxQiMohNnJtGbjsRK0rWYW1H1Hq6MAwMHw/s1600/PC210491.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil0FtK-n-hND4JBIwtVUatfe5bGyRyU5r35-JmoJbzEMF3KmXCcB5bPGjc6Lt8jIgbZzFSZ2ihBQ4nhLSBmkeRnUFxVwT9-ZSuMRQrNxQiMohNnJtGbjsRK0rWYW1H1Hq6MAwMHw/s400/PC210491.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688987185476862818" border="0" /></a><br />Crisler styles the left line at Fishbowl. It didn't take much convincing for him to mob in.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUR6qXgcZ4f25JPHpWL7n7k8g33mUTnMFUnYxH6f9Y82BFtHXzSAeggdipjBkNFrM6aw3KWZ9XPQ3tGm6rz7Gns116UY8XZG-S1HmJgeZJwrz-UkmHR51CnF-ZxSlhuYBn2S3_hw/s1600/PC210494.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUR6qXgcZ4f25JPHpWL7n7k8g33mUTnMFUnYxH6f9Y82BFtHXzSAeggdipjBkNFrM6aw3KWZ9XPQ3tGm6rz7Gns116UY8XZG-S1HmJgeZJwrz-UkmHR51CnF-ZxSlhuYBn2S3_hw/s400/PC210494.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688994494200713330" border="0" /></a><br />After Crisler watched my bouncy, yet clean line down Stairway to Heaven, he was inspired to fire it up. Without adequate aqua to pad the bedrock, Crisler took a bad bounce in the crux, and through Jedi-like maneuvers, kept it hairy side up. However, the old Y took a blow that proved to be fatal. Knowing that the trail is only a few burly rapids downstream, Crisler limped his broken kayak onward.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT1OtcgiYz9Wn9bg60d54cQKDPbAD2hFnD7k6vY2PIWDM0XzXZd21AIsL1MVpsh9Vr3GDh53v54xT8m7RvqBpf6tO9d-AY1Ac5Vp765JSc1mWdg2_FpqzMxSvrtcCp-hfr4h3IQQ/s1600/PC210498.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT1OtcgiYz9Wn9bg60d54cQKDPbAD2hFnD7k6vY2PIWDM0XzXZd21AIsL1MVpsh9Vr3GDh53v54xT8m7RvqBpf6tO9d-AY1Ac5Vp765JSc1mWdg2_FpqzMxSvrtcCp-hfr4h3IQQ/s400/PC210498.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688994497184154690" border="0" /></a><br />Luke Scott took the knuckle draggers out for a spin to spice it up a bit. Here he is avoiding a dangerous strainer in Cosmic Trigger.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYYya1nHAiPKvnSY_ppaZuBIMEgdb1bLSG0t1GA3b3oinnUJkm4ssjWEdgrJOKrs_ZciW0JvCo-Qzgkg7yzG2RdYNiCNEIgi18WwkM5VgyAKxT90_4nOM1c6-1dP78RXVaAkH_Xg/s1600/PC210501.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYYya1nHAiPKvnSY_ppaZuBIMEgdb1bLSG0t1GA3b3oinnUJkm4ssjWEdgrJOKrs_ZciW0JvCo-Qzgkg7yzG2RdYNiCNEIgi18WwkM5VgyAKxT90_4nOM1c6-1dP78RXVaAkH_Xg/s400/PC210501.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688994507382986050" border="0" /></a><br />Even with a sinking ship, Crisler knows how to make himself sail over rocks in Big Bang. Its more than just a theory.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGUNAKkNrf3aP7G5OkJELKeunClG8EKQvQW8mAnYFID5OaKkiB31Hxc-XzuFmehzoE75GViaEvvsk0niXJwe5I3E9kf8hjj8wpa6nyrhtdOOfzasqpDz0BpaNjugT1pUCwfahmeQ/s1600/PC210502.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGUNAKkNrf3aP7G5OkJELKeunClG8EKQvQW8mAnYFID5OaKkiB31Hxc-XzuFmehzoE75GViaEvvsk0niXJwe5I3E9kf8hjj8wpa6nyrhtdOOfzasqpDz0BpaNjugT1pUCwfahmeQ/s400/PC210502.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688994514349798626" border="0" /></a><br />A great new drainplug. We all agreed that Revelations was the best rapid of the day, which you can see in the background. Team Jib ran it multiple times.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNoEoGnff_Kdl5o8ERR9S9w5wa2cTc33l5zMJJe4XzqfeNTLe-uVFGV6Rq52fxhNoMlwT65S50lICVcNt0dFdQDAkfC6FyGQHC2E4AxHaCN5f9r3zaLa6Sy63MUZherjeIDnKJfA/s1600/PC210505.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNoEoGnff_Kdl5o8ERR9S9w5wa2cTc33l5zMJJe4XzqfeNTLe-uVFGV6Rq52fxhNoMlwT65S50lICVcNt0dFdQDAkfC6FyGQHC2E4AxHaCN5f9r3zaLa6Sy63MUZherjeIDnKJfA/s400/PC210505.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688994528052914098" border="0" /></a><br />Taylor Martin was feeling blessed by his Bear creek birthday bash. We caught their crew after Revelations, and it was entertaining watching my friends struggle to recognize me in retro gear.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhznekS6ii6hAv2TILsG8doKVRUDjHpPpNef1eVZf80yex35uFpguHvr6q3ZhyphenhyphensC7k2xfPdWjAwbSz5wehSFif92XQo8qe2gy9T-UlwIYN3_l356YD8UAS-Kziz7XyiJXpEmp6L9A/s1600/PC210508.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhznekS6ii6hAv2TILsG8doKVRUDjHpPpNef1eVZf80yex35uFpguHvr6q3ZhyphenhyphensC7k2xfPdWjAwbSz5wehSFif92XQo8qe2gy9T-UlwIYN3_l356YD8UAS-Kziz7XyiJXpEmp6L9A/s400/PC210508.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5689002155943068882" border="0" /></a><br />The birthday boy unwraps a stylish cross bow draw to set him up perfect for Momentary Lapse of Reason.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFo5perZ3UPR7qVD7bNuA4dwlB3Mj8kUeiZuxKuMmSGXzYEkS31TJj1hcqUy5lk3H9AU4noS1iAfjZUxH7XEvGroeykHta0mYcc8lTZACD-8jF5_0Z2cfO3fegVI2Bixn2DOTKtA/s1600/PC210509.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFo5perZ3UPR7qVD7bNuA4dwlB3Mj8kUeiZuxKuMmSGXzYEkS31TJj1hcqUy5lk3H9AU4noS1iAfjZUxH7XEvGroeykHta0mYcc8lTZACD-8jF5_0Z2cfO3fegVI2Bixn2DOTKtA/s400/PC210509.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5689002160236711074" border="0" /></a><br />Bear master Bryce Evans getting parallel through Armageddon.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiidhYnZmEilGr71ovjXALD1WSO8M9cBfg9yaMNsx0dPzIt-uychdgOJ-F3N-_mSCUkY-z6YvvQSipWi0QUav1HaWfvh5OJwAbApnQfufGQF_Ywm-finrvPdfVCxpstwqbp7434Vg/s1600/PC210514.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiidhYnZmEilGr71ovjXALD1WSO8M9cBfg9yaMNsx0dPzIt-uychdgOJ-F3N-_mSCUkY-z6YvvQSipWi0QUav1HaWfvh5OJwAbApnQfufGQF_Ywm-finrvPdfVCxpstwqbp7434Vg/s400/PC210514.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5689002165803231346" border="0" /></a><br />Taylor Martin does the limbo under a common threat.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOkK84RBWjim2vcY0Mr7jOM669b5VrKqD31sRMNz9GOalsS9Tw4ViPVYm7WvwMkB-OM_COjNo-ZcTVftS54tOovNj4uRiqKqQn2XgB9gt5ZeojufKzzls2mGvXBtYwLRA9lhf7kA/s1600/PC210522.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOkK84RBWjim2vcY0Mr7jOM669b5VrKqD31sRMNz9GOalsS9Tw4ViPVYm7WvwMkB-OM_COjNo-ZcTVftS54tOovNj4uRiqKqQn2XgB9gt5ZeojufKzzls2mGvXBtYwLRA9lhf7kA/s400/PC210522.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5689002174858397826" border="0" /></a><br />And again, avoiding the aggressive Tree Bass that has infiltrated our blessed stream-bed.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9MoJGaTX0S5RlwskD36z-wdNdtJKGa0MPDtMBLlzL8BzWsQi4HycN9H2jkj5xixWbx_jgd6JLEQ8whCmGP68-Q_IIYpyoPV4TRlv8Tg-zqUy9URzu0d3s-93nT7eE65iOYX2Xdg/s1600/PC210526.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9MoJGaTX0S5RlwskD36z-wdNdtJKGa0MPDtMBLlzL8BzWsQi4HycN9H2jkj5xixWbx_jgd6JLEQ8whCmGP68-Q_IIYpyoPV4TRlv8Tg-zqUy9URzu0d3s-93nT7eE65iOYX2Xdg/s400/PC210526.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5689002183475952434" border="0" /></a><br />Charlie Mix propels his rhasta colored Villain through a maze of stones.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBroj1DCm6Qvsh7tqraSJHcZJk6JP4Q3T81AFWfqZbMCZAqWSRZlq8GCG_6HK8YIMEtHdiGTc7tI4EWxsceya1jfCu5eZPAvaamZITvqQjQXw0PQThmhL3dCObFpH3NVfh6_CgbA/s1600/PC210533.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBroj1DCm6Qvsh7tqraSJHcZJk6JP4Q3T81AFWfqZbMCZAqWSRZlq8GCG_6HK8YIMEtHdiGTc7tI4EWxsceya1jfCu5eZPAvaamZITvqQjQXw0PQThmhL3dCObFpH3NVfh6_CgbA/s400/PC210533.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5689005439153785058" border="0" /></a><br />Paul Hubbard finds his balance in Gargoyle. Shortly downstream, Paul asked me whats up with Omega, fittingly named as the last rapid. I said I don't know, and routed him in for his first time.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRkn6nGV0miHYhBma3925q4Mabo4jpOigrBpbj8n9QTnshpk-aR-ftcJcAhMC4tBTrkcOEQ1tidqLjkk9L4e3KtvQCKxOknHozFD82RkKkmtzIl8lO4qts_kxzcxX8-4A-Fi-7RQ/s1600/PC210535.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRkn6nGV0miHYhBma3925q4Mabo4jpOigrBpbj8n9QTnshpk-aR-ftcJcAhMC4tBTrkcOEQ1tidqLjkk9L4e3KtvQCKxOknHozFD82RkKkmtzIl8lO4qts_kxzcxX8-4A-Fi-7RQ/s400/PC210535.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5689005442177919058" border="0" /></a><br />Like a colorful caravan, we march back to civilization, charged up from a stellar day on Bear Creek. Looks like we might get to run it again here soon. Stay up.the chargerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02660325895255791759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18292914.post-80532318934153884152011-12-20T04:45:00.000-08:002011-12-20T19:29:54.106-08:00CurrentRivers are incredible. They can teach us so much. I don't believe we are learning anything new, but instead, remembering what we already know. Water is the medium in which we live, and carries with it everything that makes the earth beautiful. Rivers are constant, but also constantly changing. We are the same. <div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXWAj_NEV_HPWuCXVmyuNKqKBWt1y69E2YE-4aNAfG3V7tjK7q5KckqAk2inW4Dvq2ZVb4EcuTmmR5Yi9uiJuAmsN2u2jkeq0aMaLerJwPFcQYBEZUqo569TvhDuPSGL54s4yeQQ/s1600/PB260396.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXWAj_NEV_HPWuCXVmyuNKqKBWt1y69E2YE-4aNAfG3V7tjK7q5KckqAk2inW4Dvq2ZVb4EcuTmmR5Yi9uiJuAmsN2u2jkeq0aMaLerJwPFcQYBEZUqo569TvhDuPSGL54s4yeQQ/s400/PB260396.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688235470412891602" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div>Love is a word that describes a feeling of oneness and connection like no other. I love everything. You might ask, "Do you love murderers, traffic, drought, or depression"? My answer is yes. Without the bad, you have no way of knowing what is good. Experiencing the so-called 'bad', gives us much more appreciation of the 'good'. If you try to get rid of the 'bad', you will also extinguish the 'good'. </div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDu3wM29D3SdOizf_gM0F1ELZbl7fDmrYu9t2QH79wLTUw7rpZ-00x2Pc1TVjNdOjx7awNgX25DWNQlwuZlQv7RHTBXPTcEyxSe3AHLuIlO1RzBJTu-mgIc6cPsZrLjNU3w4ozFg/s1600/PB260387.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDu3wM29D3SdOizf_gM0F1ELZbl7fDmrYu9t2QH79wLTUw7rpZ-00x2Pc1TVjNdOjx7awNgX25DWNQlwuZlQv7RHTBXPTcEyxSe3AHLuIlO1RzBJTu-mgIc6cPsZrLjNU3w4ozFg/s400/PB260387.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688235474376655634" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div>Balance gives us a feeling of center and foundation. I strive for balance. The Buddha taught the Middle Way, which means to find balance or center. Whether you are kayaking, writing, walking, or simply being; balance is the key to satisfaction. Nobody likes to fall down or fail. Our balance depends on the head, the center for thought, the command center, the place where these words are coming from. We must strive for balance of the mind first and foremost. </div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPLKWWp1Mu6lEAUpN3KLYgpHm_KD4uj56yYLiaw19NRmkOwZlvsQ8W6OlbpBzdUxJ8CHCo2gAHVw-BWU1NdnCtqQULNuWykrbpkzk8JCe02VAxFDObybMiOmRFj4JFVjJ2SmberA/s1600/PB280434.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPLKWWp1Mu6lEAUpN3KLYgpHm_KD4uj56yYLiaw19NRmkOwZlvsQ8W6OlbpBzdUxJ8CHCo2gAHVw-BWU1NdnCtqQULNuWykrbpkzk8JCe02VAxFDObybMiOmRFj4JFVjJ2SmberA/s400/PB280434.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688235450793096642" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div>Improvement is based upon judgment. What one person sees as improvement, might seem destructive to another. Nonetheless, the internal judge is always the one we should always listen to. It keeps us constantly striving for improvement. When you improve, you feel alive, new, fresh, and inspired to keep the change going. We must emphasize improvement if we truly want to become a more complete human, society, or consciousness. </div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiffPnjb0iRNRcb02BA4nseYFveR__74QJvgsuXbu1UAKHCy_s4Oj65prX7Q6Y5mO-RRKJvIZH-NnWz2UCMLBHMoSFicxaqUdwbzxN8nhVaVIOU_ox4mBolCCA7e3MqV6sR7vNa1g/s1600/PB270414.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiffPnjb0iRNRcb02BA4nseYFveR__74QJvgsuXbu1UAKHCy_s4Oj65prX7Q6Y5mO-RRKJvIZH-NnWz2UCMLBHMoSFicxaqUdwbzxN8nhVaVIOU_ox4mBolCCA7e3MqV6sR7vNa1g/s400/PB270414.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688235458024929874" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div>Consciousness is something you can't escape from. Its like an imaginary devil and angel sitting on your shoulders. Its speaks to you from a source that can't be explained. There is no need to try and understand or label it. All we have to do is listen to it, and act accordingly. How can we improve consciousness? Opening ourselves up to the universe will expand our consciousness and give us more freedom. When we begin to see ourselves in all, love will surely expand. Just as the moon pulls on the waves, making them crash on the beach, our consciousness pulls us towards a pure existence, crashing our bleak concept of an independent 'self'. </div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5jUZ55FrG9ylXYFeoXHSB5sFFGgkbytaC3PmqJGkgBRlpPW6WkI5qrPoRUauDCV3GJU84ufyKAhw7duj-yaw2BR0GGUUd6YkjtmfGuGVuFAdkXC-Q-u_ZtsHNnBpqyJ2uz3YlqQ/s1600/PB280436.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5jUZ55FrG9ylXYFeoXHSB5sFFGgkbytaC3PmqJGkgBRlpPW6WkI5qrPoRUauDCV3GJU84ufyKAhw7duj-yaw2BR0GGUUd6YkjtmfGuGVuFAdkXC-Q-u_ZtsHNnBpqyJ2uz3YlqQ/s400/PB280436.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688235448555718946" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div>Travel can be seen in many ways. To travel through the depths of one's mind can be a frightening experience if we aren't careful. Often times, we move through life not knowing how or why the mind functions the way it does. Our experiences in this body, on this earth, in this time, are the deciding factors of how we think, and who we are. To question the thoughts that make us who we are is the only way to truly understand 'oneself'. If we don't question ourselves, how are we to question anyone else? </div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOBUfmtK02YxGJrk7PUeEq2P3mUqdPqYXx0gLpxBkrmd4H5hz0LASm1cXFEk9Dukz9VlthyNileML5V0Of6WoxmHiE79rZfaa53hwOSz42tcSXOUkO8d49EpLUTHQkpMAjtUVIZA/s1600/PB270405.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOBUfmtK02YxGJrk7PUeEq2P3mUqdPqYXx0gLpxBkrmd4H5hz0LASm1cXFEk9Dukz9VlthyNileML5V0Of6WoxmHiE79rZfaa53hwOSz42tcSXOUkO8d49EpLUTHQkpMAjtUVIZA/s400/PB270405.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688236924806312562" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div>You may be questioning where or why these thoughts that I am writing are coming up now. I question them myself. My only answer is that by being written, I am beginning to understand my mind. I am trying to find rivers of love with balance that will improve my consciousness to travel fluidly through time, space, and knowledge. I hope we will all feel inspired to grow through any, and all, mediums we choose. Charge or be charged. This is life. </div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsoWEFCU80UN1WfSlS8vYBCgMSSEM_KJV0Ghmvf19JVJxldATAPI8XqIW8LxA05LWvEqSSnwELXk9i1xH5xiEJL0spLcwjErdNJA8CUmP4whJcPoRVfa4DpkI2kpexYX3phDW-og/s1600/PB270415.JPG"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsoWEFCU80UN1WfSlS8vYBCgMSSEM_KJV0Ghmvf19JVJxldATAPI8XqIW8LxA05LWvEqSSnwELXk9i1xH5xiEJL0spLcwjErdNJA8CUmP4whJcPoRVfa4DpkI2kpexYX3phDW-og/s400/PB270415.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5688236929102463794" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div>All photos are of the Gap section of the South Yuba river. An incredible place that has made me a stronger person, having passed through those turbulent gates nine times now. Happy holidays.<br /></div>the chargerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02660325895255791759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18292914.post-71638251447725366552011-11-13T19:33:00.000-08:002011-11-13T21:29:05.036-08:00Best in the WestHowdy Ya'll!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkzEheFkMXABNnvsCgdxQS3FJkaALMz8s4nSm_Hq9ERuuq_nkd_vmm_juC0rRI0GMT405JuLddO0wmlopbeGGrWTNS1xN3EY8qraArx8mAv56c8l7D1KFLFfNTM9m9oSX0tG8QXQ/s1600/P8150138.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkzEheFkMXABNnvsCgdxQS3FJkaALMz8s4nSm_Hq9ERuuq_nkd_vmm_juC0rRI0GMT405JuLddO0wmlopbeGGrWTNS1xN3EY8qraArx8mAv56c8l7D1KFLFfNTM9m9oSX0tG8QXQ/s400/P8150138.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674696839088314994" /></a><br />In my humble opinion, the Middle Fork of the Kings river is the best California Class V kayak run. After completing all the legendary rivers featured in the 7 Rivers Expedition, with the exception of Grand Canyon of the Tuolumne, I feel pretty comfortable giving MFK top honors. With great effort, comes great reward, and this trip is no exception. <div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMbVVM3Tmh2ewnZn1MoKcWHcvbNhdo1jhgZ70N5h8g3K5eBOHsQUl9hJwujNV3GbtfFb0gpF4gLkFrdOnSQvOsC7PAcxyaOi6o9AGEdEr9GcTAicukAavc06-UdtQNHIwA7jvGUg/s1600/P8150158.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMbVVM3Tmh2ewnZn1MoKcWHcvbNhdo1jhgZ70N5h8g3K5eBOHsQUl9hJwujNV3GbtfFb0gpF4gLkFrdOnSQvOsC7PAcxyaOi6o9AGEdEr9GcTAicukAavc06-UdtQNHIwA7jvGUg/s400/P8150158.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674696863666235810" style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a></div><div>Having to hike your kayak, 5 days worth of food, and your camping gear 12 miles up and over a 12,000 foot pass, makes you wonder if its worth it. I don't consider the hike to be a burden, rather a pleasant stroll through some of the most captivating scenery on the planet. </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpXjZFna2u8oxqy4DoxfCGJLohzJC_5401KOuRVNdK4EqHO7Sgqwj2Lraq4MBEJUlRKBmfEvJ8qMsrbVRgOTEL10nsfMqrUHFfzw6cmzmyZnn6fvC2-gaJYCkAvqADbMHw-MI4lA/s1600/P8150159.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpXjZFna2u8oxqy4DoxfCGJLohzJC_5401KOuRVNdK4EqHO7Sgqwj2Lraq4MBEJUlRKBmfEvJ8qMsrbVRgOTEL10nsfMqrUHFfzw6cmzmyZnn6fvC2-gaJYCkAvqADbMHw-MI4lA/s400/P8150159.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674696876855122482" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div>This year, being my forth tour, I felt pretty comfortable with the all-around magnitude of the endeavor. The crew included Mike Peacher, Barny Young, Nick Murphy, King Charles, and Jordy Searle.<div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD8qIsxrpKwG6Tfzp-stH9dU_ki2ZSIq4nbMivYcweQ-CiSyUa7EspAgGt8WpaaRDQoo6cAyuoHcqc4BsZocgzYykeCjBtjTyuvNsNsdnQAZGABQHeUQiwGmpHMjIUmH6UenNi0w/s1600/P8150139.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhD8qIsxrpKwG6Tfzp-stH9dU_ki2ZSIq4nbMivYcweQ-CiSyUa7EspAgGt8WpaaRDQoo6cAyuoHcqc4BsZocgzYykeCjBtjTyuvNsNsdnQAZGABQHeUQiwGmpHMjIUmH6UenNi0w/s400/P8150139.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674696843350588466" style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a></div><div> Ironically, King Charles was forced to hike-out early into the run, due to a massive breach in his kayak's hull. Jordy was injured from some burl on Hospital Rock, also slightly ironic, and simply provided ground support on the hike. </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjIF1vvk3Ag4TyP4sEOguX2wB-t_ck038V8FTyACL4-ebSJwbuyAYqwSyHnY2zMg-Dlcp1270SRo3apI8ipnImKUa0k7-iPGwBb7PbwTB05kCg-Dd3TqR389ObUQMOqgZtEPUWMg/s1600/P8150170.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjIF1vvk3Ag4TyP4sEOguX2wB-t_ck038V8FTyACL4-ebSJwbuyAYqwSyHnY2zMg-Dlcp1270SRo3apI8ipnImKUa0k7-iPGwBb7PbwTB05kCg-Dd3TqR389ObUQMOqgZtEPUWMg/s400/P8150170.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674696883598586130" style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a></div><div>Once you make it to the river, after trudging down around 1000' of switchbacks, you are ready to taste the magical waters of his majesty. After speaking with a ranger at the put-in, it was confirmed that the water is cleaner than any tap-water. So, we got in our boats and started charging down the river, taking gulps as we plugged into the countless swirls. The beginning of the run is really low volume and manky, but fun nonetheless.</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbUoal1OOvwyazozHO27nkZRaBJb5s1tCzhhPPD9qvDm0SplsiCTy6RTtpxBITkUUdFbWKlu1Lmd49kgn3DBoov3H5NJBGrAeBAK0MITtxvBe_DdMOlw5cHWy2b2RNJbXq1nSl0A/s1600/P8160171.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbUoal1OOvwyazozHO27nkZRaBJb5s1tCzhhPPD9qvDm0SplsiCTy6RTtpxBITkUUdFbWKlu1Lmd49kgn3DBoov3H5NJBGrAeBAK0MITtxvBe_DdMOlw5cHWy2b2RNJbXq1nSl0A/s400/P8160171.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674699087272421458" style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a></div><div> While driving the shuttle, we saw a few rattlesnakes and an owl carrying a mouse. As we expected, somebody noticed a Bear chilling next to the river, close to where I was portaging. Its so exciting in there! We made camp early after running the picturesque notch to slide rapid. The stars glimmered us to sleep quickly, deeply tired and satisfied from being in the Kings Canyon. I awoke early, with thoughts of the 7 Rivers cover drop, aka Squeeze Play, lurking closely downstream. I walked down to take a peak before anyone had woken, to find a lower flow than my previous descent of the rapid. I didn't like the way it looked. </div><div><br /></div><div>Taylor Cavin, Dan Menten, Scott Ligare, and Chris Zwaki joined us in scouting the tight waterfall. Dan felt fired up, and decided to give it a go. I recommended that he charge. He charged, but the waterfall was hungry after having more than a year without action. He surfed the hole for while, locked in by the overhanging left wall. Ropes began to fly, but none were successful. Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, Dan resurfaced, out of his boat, way downstream. We were all on the river left bank, unable to pull Dan up the sheer cliff we were standing on. I ran downstream to the last possible eddy before the next burly rapid. When I saw Dan floating toward the lip of said rapid, I fired my throw rope with great conviction. Luckily, the rope landed right over the bill of his helmet, but he didn't immediately respond. We yelled at him and he woke up just in time. I reeled him in like the biggest trophy fish in the world. Saved just in the nick of time. He was coughing up serious amounts of water and completely exhausted. After recovering all the gear, a ranger asked for our permit, and Peacher inquired as to why she didn't have a six-shooter on her side. Having just witnessed a near-death experience, we began paddling downstream with a different perspective.</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjat2rSGJWrPgie-yaSlfU656prr9yBdqDxKV7OusyLGHCjdVOYjeUn-5askx1tqH_NQqyw_9BTsDe6St7xOijOy6TNOlcAQKDCqzSbtjMshoyRwH9Z76JMekqYQCyOPFcm1omUg/s1600/P8170174.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjat2rSGJWrPgie-yaSlfU656prr9yBdqDxKV7OusyLGHCjdVOYjeUn-5askx1tqH_NQqyw_9BTsDe6St7xOijOy6TNOlcAQKDCqzSbtjMshoyRwH9Z76JMekqYQCyOPFcm1omUg/s400/P8170174.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674699098153492114" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div> The snow-bridge was one of the highlights of my entire summer. I have never seen such an amazing spectacle. While paddling under it, we were exposed to a cathedral of dimples that were nothing short of beautiful. It was a baptism of sorts, crossing under a snow-bridge created from the largest snow-pack in California's recorded history.</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh85MB1YFYyalGh_CZ8shZyOjNzA79gOdcEJTmuFVazMbsO7Y9eEoVq9mPe5qa-fW9XCB3fwX7D_JXQSyZ6gC6RnRUoUJiEJ8AvkwchhpMJrQBmmvxC6vWQh9zWw29bpNvsbsASBQ/s1600/P8170176.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh85MB1YFYyalGh_CZ8shZyOjNzA79gOdcEJTmuFVazMbsO7Y9eEoVq9mPe5qa-fW9XCB3fwX7D_JXQSyZ6gC6RnRUoUJiEJ8AvkwchhpMJrQBmmvxC6vWQh9zWw29bpNvsbsASBQ/s400/P8170176.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674699097981552018" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div> The ultra-classic big slide was epic as always, and I got stopped like a fast-ball into the catchers mitt in the hole at bottom. Luckily, I was able to stoke my way out of it without a problem. Not surprisingly, Barny broke his kayak soon before the waterfall gorge. We patched her up as best we could and ran some awesome whitewater. Looking at the one of the last un-run drops of the Kings, I'm surprised Tommy Hilleke or somebody hasn't given her a go. Its a pretty walled-in, backed-up, super-powerful hydraulic; so, I guess its not that surprising, since you get so many other 'good' rapids on the run. </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_4d35tklWM_1AxMS7uIIcqJJ6QSwpmnaqj_-MjaO6zWsC96jC1CGaq-f1RsBHhcfSEKegVmfw7EjvZOZuk1BjJp24-b4ig5l5TVFQcOzjAo_wTBTbJD-iQhKENiVUhrW2Wz2utg/s1600/P8170180.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_4d35tklWM_1AxMS7uIIcqJJ6QSwpmnaqj_-MjaO6zWsC96jC1CGaq-f1RsBHhcfSEKegVmfw7EjvZOZuk1BjJp24-b4ig5l5TVFQcOzjAo_wTBTbJD-iQhKENiVUhrW2Wz2utg/s400/P8170180.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674699109628232402" style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a></div><div>We camped in an amazing meadow, and discussed how lucky I was to nail Dan with my rope. The next day, we woke up to another perfect, sunny, glorious atmosphere for routing long Class V rapids. I always remember the section just above the Big Bad Beaver to keep you more than adequately entertained. </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgunHYu99xUCSygOWAxlvW0cY54ozcONBDW33oxkGgim1WXfbHnFkvOYprBU1noZT88rMoep9tbZSluZDHvoBonOHtMPTC732E7ddhUCPmM4rEsentesJb6hg8UyVOlWDYG9A5K5w/s1600/P8180182.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgunHYu99xUCSygOWAxlvW0cY54ozcONBDW33oxkGgim1WXfbHnFkvOYprBU1noZT88rMoep9tbZSluZDHvoBonOHtMPTC732E7ddhUCPmM4rEsentesJb6hg8UyVOlWDYG9A5K5w/s400/P8180182.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674703189014432066" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div>Therefore, when we got to the BBB, all of us but Nick decided to walk around. With typical Nick Murphy fashion, he rode his Jah-mad up and over the chaotic compression hole that keeps most mortals at bay. Cheers of celebration ensued, as its always good to watch a team-member style the largest rapid on the run. Tehipite dome is one of the many rewards you receive from staying on point and continuing deeper into the canyon. </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBi2bkmqgBm4uEyeQK0BgRPbKru_sAtBtgVC52PHanEvadj7_Sacgx9Ikw-recmofBZXKmY8SBvoQNNqPAIBheIurrTsOqkqFeeXdjJCxDS_restZjE2hyphenhyphenKFYQuKRA4sGOjby4vg/s1600/P8180183.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBi2bkmqgBm4uEyeQK0BgRPbKru_sAtBtgVC52PHanEvadj7_Sacgx9Ikw-recmofBZXKmY8SBvoQNNqPAIBheIurrTsOqkqFeeXdjJCxDS_restZjE2hyphenhyphenKFYQuKRA4sGOjby4vg/s400/P8180183.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674703196128925074" style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /></a></div><div>Always a hard night of sleep, thinking about MFK B9-er and the Garlic Falls, the final stretches of the trip. The bottom 9 keeps you humble more than any other section of river I have been on, but I love it for that. Too many rapids in there to remember, and you find yourself mad-bombing steep technical boulder gardens that can eat your lunch, constantly. </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8uQi4at2F1CfDDNlDIkL0ZZ-GXs4e4azZzzuaSuEpsYtmu5O9DxcqhbWefJHNAHK89IlKQOI8d2H8WOE-v2tdmgUGuMR7Ig-Ab_mbcpHu76ppqI2hY_oXSy9a-XtmIKiPbXF3xQ/s1600/P8180185.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8uQi4at2F1CfDDNlDIkL0ZZ-GXs4e4azZzzuaSuEpsYtmu5O9DxcqhbWefJHNAHK89IlKQOI8d2H8WOE-v2tdmgUGuMR7Ig-Ab_mbcpHu76ppqI2hY_oXSy9a-XtmIKiPbXF3xQ/s400/P8180185.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674703202440356738" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div>We kept it safe in there and took a rewarding break at the confluence of the Middle and South Kings rivers. Having completed all of the Middle Fork is an accomplishment for sure, but I have seen Garlic Falls serve up just as much carnage as the rest.</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyD3_6v-q-Iol8nwplUyE5UT6lg13JaR7Ho35NrB_QyAGHTqKUi_hqBSOcQ9OErHLp8Th4KainrVXx5p6Hc9mBGyInfIJZez06ZQKP6gOS6wInlVLNSm8pLm3Eo3Mn855AFNlUaQ/s1600/P8190186.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyD3_6v-q-Iol8nwplUyE5UT6lg13JaR7Ho35NrB_QyAGHTqKUi_hqBSOcQ9OErHLp8Th4KainrVXx5p6Hc9mBGyInfIJZez06ZQKP6gOS6wInlVLNSm8pLm3Eo3Mn855AFNlUaQ/s400/P8190186.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674703206623360562" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div> Lucky for us this time, we mobbed the big-water without hindrance, and celebrated with the sights of the take-out. As Barny would say, funny how you are ready to leave one of the greatest kayaking rivers in the world after spending 5 grueling days in there. The beers flowed forth, having been chilled by our whitewater roller-coaster. </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9PmezIerjCDjKWk4nw1pdAa8huDMhDEg_ORYVo8fymJvRSogyonF3RRXGf-7FpLVmAehe29o9yL86gXR40tIve8vJABvJvm2QnqoBb4r2EUYjcjbi77xR1Dyyix6iT3OrxoTQhA/s1600/P8190196.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9PmezIerjCDjKWk4nw1pdAa8huDMhDEg_ORYVo8fymJvRSogyonF3RRXGf-7FpLVmAehe29o9yL86gXR40tIve8vJABvJvm2QnqoBb4r2EUYjcjbi77xR1Dyyix6iT3OrxoTQhA/s400/P8190196.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674703215786813074" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div>We left my favorite place in the entire world, with a fitting California sunset over Pine Flat lake, which hinders the King's natural progression to the sea.</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBMBLNDjIGCP0vS-MPz_qcw6O-BRRnvpQyDdUcNNtHDwo5h3mZQb83D1mOux5G8PB7Aaz4GvzrkuEwtfI-4G2fh6lXRy7FjzOaFMzaIh1QYCHh6lDFLzzTuQicXJ4olCCy36oQ2Q/s1600/P8190198.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBMBLNDjIGCP0vS-MPz_qcw6O-BRRnvpQyDdUcNNtHDwo5h3mZQb83D1mOux5G8PB7Aaz4GvzrkuEwtfI-4G2fh6lXRy7FjzOaFMzaIh1QYCHh6lDFLzzTuQicXJ4olCCy36oQ2Q/s400/P8190198.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5674703712543311042" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div> We made it to Barny's house in Groveland that night, but couldn't muster the motivation to paddle faster-than-usual down Cherry Creek the next day. So, we rolled in hot off an epic mission, to one of the best parties of the year, and raged late into the night with our fellow chargers. Cheers fellow brothers and sisters! Heres a little movie I made from the trip. Enjoy!<div><br /></div><div> </div><br /><iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/2X-FeO-b8Bc?rel=0&hd=1" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe><br /><br /></div></div>the chargerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02660325895255791759noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18292914.post-5142097378691247322011-11-05T06:49:00.000-07:002011-11-07T17:09:20.263-08:00Yuba GapJust when you, or some other people, think the California Class V whitewater boat riding season is over, a little stretch of river receives just the right amount of water thanks to some dam maintenance. The stretch we're talking about here is known in kayaking circles as the legendary Yuba Gap run. Few attempts, fabled with epic accounts of carnage, charging, burl, swirl, and the gang, gives way to a sense of adventure when putting on this gem. Luckily for me, I live in close proximity to the mighty South Yuba river, which locals regard as the Center of the Universe. Unfortunately, the Lang Crossing gauge that measures the flow in the Yuba Gap was on the fritz, further leading to the speculation that it was indeed running. On a hunch, from seeing the HWY 49 gauge reading around 420 CFS, I drove to the put-in for a reality check of the good kind. Indeed, the river was running what looked like an optimal 350CFS. Game on! We rendezvoused at the put-in for some rockstar shuttle action. Meeting Taylor Robertson enabled us with a shuttle driver, his lovely wife Jen. Time to Charge! This run is full throttle right out of the gates. Over the course of the next four days, I encountered many burl-swirls that tested my might. I persevered of course. The slide that measures time, aka hourglass, took a toll on me my final run, but it won't hinder my high view of this run. Running it four days in row enabled me to dial the countless rapids in there, giving me a new found love and confidence in this demanding stretch. I captured some stellar eye candy whilst traveling through this beautiful canyon. I made a short movie with some of my buddies. Chargers include Justin Patt, Taylor Robertson, Thomas Moore, Jim Addington, Sean Manchester, Middy, Chris Tulley, David Maurier, Jared Noceti, Rok Sribar, and the elusive Taylor Cavin. Cheers!<br /><br /><iframe width="560" height="315" src="http://www.youtube-nocookie.com/embed/Fekxgx48GBc?rel=0&hd=1" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe>the chargerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02660325895255791759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18292914.post-9340175196627853352011-09-14T14:04:00.000-07:002011-11-13T19:33:23.407-08:00First Descents<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxq0erD5EW_4yx0_dz9GLOvRNtpi1oKC7Axtauwh6eIP3srsqazGwjmfLUG1PUeOZq3D8PlVy39iAnpsGyvOWy4cWfVpQa_31_RqN8-YsKsGPa4UBjyHaOliI95XCsATXVQwfSYg/s1600/249737_862001649918_29713180_41934196_565670_n.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 225px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxq0erD5EW_4yx0_dz9GLOvRNtpi1oKC7Axtauwh6eIP3srsqazGwjmfLUG1PUeOZq3D8PlVy39iAnpsGyvOWy4cWfVpQa_31_RqN8-YsKsGPa4UBjyHaOliI95XCsATXVQwfSYg/s400/249737_862001649918_29713180_41934196_565670_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5671524229599465762" /></a><br /><br />Waterfalls have always been one of the most cherished moments that water rushes towards a new destination. It is a moment where the molecules gain speed as gravity takes hold more easily without solid rock beneath. When riding these water molecules in a kayak, we often feel connected to a greater source. A source that every living thing on Earth is so intrinsically dependent upon. <div><br /></div><div>In the winter of 2011; Cody Howard, Darin Mcquoid, and myself began exploring never-before-run waterfalls in the Gold Country area of California. Justin Patt, local class V kayaker extraordinaire, gave us hints of a 50 foot waterfall very close to my new home of Nevada City. He was led to this drop through a very resourceful website called WaterfallsWest.com. Through further research of this website, we found 2 more waterfalls close by; on a small, low-elevation stream called Dry Creek. </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih1GZJ71Yg2WXm6iGv6L-dax8KLoRwLt1NRpH6IWqXwslOqulY9khblNIxiOpR5OIgy5D-RWnafy7zjAG_IwEhrI8kGLMD_o8uKmPeKAoXHXNWM2T7RzpAT9_iinP0oXe9MiJgNQ/s1600/dry.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih1GZJ71Yg2WXm6iGv6L-dax8KLoRwLt1NRpH6IWqXwslOqulY9khblNIxiOpR5OIgy5D-RWnafy7zjAG_IwEhrI8kGLMD_o8uKmPeKAoXHXNWM2T7RzpAT9_iinP0oXe9MiJgNQ/s400/dry.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672418440070585986" style="cursor: pointer; width: 225px; height: 400px; " /></a></div><div>The rains began to pour, our hearts began to thump, and we knew the time had come to check out these waterfalls with ample flow. Dry creek was first on the list because it has a very small watershed that rarely receives enough precipitation to make the stream 'runnable'. This day, however, the creek wasn't so dry. So, we began hiking 2 miles up through cow pastures to see what the creek had to offer. Cody's fiance, Brandi Suppi, and dog, Timber, joined us in dodging countless, fresh, steaming, cow patties. We arrived at the falls to see an amber colored torrent cascading down not one, but two magnificent waterfalls.</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZDw3AQ0OgBi3iMcMqqGQwgEUKE_JzH-dwRaG38f24zZPPhmvHlwtbVZoDgSjhO-Ozo0UhhV36U0k7J_qfmXu0GRoXQD6KJsb8QZGrdL_hZ7IW0g_VdsgpNUN3iQrJ5rAypFkXmQ/s1600/246988_862003416378_29713180_41934287_7772978_n.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZDw3AQ0OgBi3iMcMqqGQwgEUKE_JzH-dwRaG38f24zZPPhmvHlwtbVZoDgSjhO-Ozo0UhhV36U0k7J_qfmXu0GRoXQD6KJsb8QZGrdL_hZ7IW0g_VdsgpNUN3iQrJ5rAypFkXmQ/s400/246988_862003416378_29713180_41934287_7772978_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5671524225802611746" style="cursor: pointer; width: 225px; height: 400px; " /></a></div><div>The first falls was very intimidating with a raging curler protecting the lip of this spatula-shaped 60 footer. None of us were feeling fired up enough to tackle this animal. Therefore, we proceeded a short distance down to the second falls. Now this falls looked very similar to a frequently-run waterfall on the Little White Salmon called Spirit Falls. Having run Spirit Falls, and many other waterfalls in the 30 foot range, I felt confident that I could run the falls successfully. After discussing the line with my Cody and Darin, the decision was made for me to claim the first descent of this falls. </div><div><br /></div><div>I readied myself, as I normally do for a very consequential rapid, with visualization and breathing techniques. Upon entering my custom outfitted Jefe Grande with a 4 inch foam seat and completely foam bulkhead, the realization began to sink in of the magnitude of the act, in which I was about to carry out. Splashing the cold, amber-colored, water on my face helped calm my nerves as I ferried over to the river left eddy directly above the drop. I motioned to Cody up on the bank that I was fully-charged and ready to go. Left strokes from my Werner Shogun propelled me into the main current where I immediately felt the power of the creek. I continued to take left strokes as the flow was pushing me hard left. Even though I was further left than I wanted to be, I knew that I was committed, and continued to charge with all my might as I began to feel the water fall out from under me. </div><div><br /></div><div>The time between the lip and landing of a waterfall are spiritual moments for me. All thoughts simply vanish. My body begins moving in ways that are controlled by years of experience kayaking. And when I finally land, its almost as if I have woken up from a dream. In this case, it was a very frightening dream! Instead of using the rolling lip to take a boof-stroke and control my angle of descent, the lip literally fell out from under me. Leaving me with no place for a stroke, I fell almost completely flat onto a slightly submerged rock. </div><div><br /></div><div>Lady luck was on my side this time as I received nothing more than a severe jarring. I wasn't stoked on my line, but I was very pleased to have run the drop without serious injury. I'm pretty certain that my supremely, cushioned, foam-seat saved me great pain on this, and many other, occasions. As we always do, we celebrated with high fives after a successful first descent of a 30 foot waterfall in close proximity to our homes.</div><div><br /></div><div>Darin felt confident that he too could paddle the drop successfully; and so, he began his way of preparing for a serious waterfall. I set up safety and media on river left below the drop. Darin charged off the lip with great speed, but he too got pushed further left than planned. Nevertheless, he paddled away from the turbulent base of the falls all in tact and grinning from ear to ear. He also noted contact with some sort of brunt object upon landing. </div><div><br /></div><div>After hearing that both Darin and I had felt rock on our left side, Cody was very motivated to charge the drop with plenty of right angle. He did so with typical Cody style, and beautifully boofed the drop in the center with a nice 45 degree angle of descent. If I remember correctly, he didn't touch a single rock in his landing, and motivated me to make a second attempt. </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIKh7WoxWp6JtP58rDXSQGOx2yFuiDP1-NsVDHS4rlVxtR2MtWW9tohoH3aLFl5r6HF6Tik1S4zVqF29iJwKSA47dBAw2F_tnyW4Lo147q6VsNOQ5JIYag633-IK81rLmBrUMTjw/s1600/252412_862001814588_29713180_41934206_7445481_n.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIKh7WoxWp6JtP58rDXSQGOx2yFuiDP1-NsVDHS4rlVxtR2MtWW9tohoH3aLFl5r6HF6Tik1S4zVqF29iJwKSA47dBAw2F_tnyW4Lo147q6VsNOQ5JIYag633-IK81rLmBrUMTjw/s400/252412_862001814588_29713180_41934206_7445481_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5671524236963653426" style="cursor: pointer; width: 225px; height: 400px; " /></a></div><div>Once again, I prepared myself for a burly rapid, and ferried over to the very swirly eddy on river left. This time, I charged super-hard for the river right bank, and as I expected, was pushed left into the center of the lip. I took a nice look at the boiling landing while pulling a glorious stroke that propelled me into a sweet angle of free-fall. Moments of no-thought proceeded and I awoke at the base of the falls with an extreme feeling of satisfaction. A good line to finish off a spectacular day. </div><div><br /></div><div>Cody, Darin, and I decided to continue paddling downstream instead of hiking back down through the cow fields. Brandi and Timber, on the other hand, possessed no floating devices; and thus, began to hike back towards the cars. Not to our surprise, we found much debris-infested class II rapids downstream of the falls. At one point, I tried to roll under a log across the river, which is never a good idea I might add. This resulted in a mellow wet exit, where I didn't really get wet since I was in my Kokatat dry-suit. </div><div><br /></div><div>We finally arrived at the cars, still in high spirits after completing such a sweet first descent. We began to undress and wonder when Brandi and Timber would show up. After popping a few frosty beverages and watching the light quickly fade, we began to get concerned for Brandi and Timber. Our worry didn't last long as we saw Brandi come angrily tromping across the yellow bridge. We hadn't taken much note of the sign on the bridge which said not to enter the fields during a certain time of year. That certain time of year signified the mating season of the bovine breed. </div><div><br /></div><div>With big eyes, shortness of breath, and heart racing; Brandi re-counted the story of a massive bull chasing her and Timber down. She wasn't stoked to say the least. Especially at the fact that Timber didn't show the slightest sign of bravery in the matter. She said that Timber was actually out-running her. So, if you are interested in checking out Dry Creek falls, beware of the angry cows. They will give you a run for your money. Brandi also noted that her astrological sign is Taurus. So that might have had something to do with it too. </div><div><br /></div><div>One waterfall down, two to go. The next band of storms inspired me to go check out South Deer Creek falls, which Justin Patt had been raving about since I moved to town. The drop isn't far from the town of Nevada City, but if you don't know where you're going, its easy to get lost. The roads leading back in there are very reminiscent of the logging roads leading to Big Kimshew. I went there solo the first time, and after trudging through at least 1 foot of snow for an hour or so, I found the falls. Justin wasn't lying when he said it was very sick yet runnable. I didn't spend long out in the miserable cold rain/snow that blessed the Sierras much of 2011.</div><div><br /></div><div>Another huge storm came barreling into northern California that got Cody and I out of the house and into the woods looking at South Deer Falls, which from now on I will abbreviate as SDF. This time, the falls were on the high side of high. But it whet, mine and Cody's appetite more than any other drop we had looked at so far. We walked away with thoughts of another drop that we knew would be better with less water. </div><div><br /></div><div>It continued to rain throughout the night, further instilling the image of a massive curling beast into my mind as I tried to sleep in the loft of my little cabin. Cody called me early in the morning with a report that Dry Creek was going to be higher than our previous trip, and that there was a crew of people forming to go check it out. I loaded up and headed into town with high hopes of running the upper Dry Creek falls. I carpooled with Cody from Grass Valley to the staging area near Beale Air Force base. </div><div><br /></div><div>Once there, we met Darin Mcqouid, Jason Craig, Taylor Cavin, Robby Hogg, and Gareth Tate. A fine crew of Chargers if I may say so myself. We geared up and began the hike promptly. I led the charge, as I was anxious to see the falls again. Walking through the cow pastures, the sounds of the beasts become louder and louder. Yes, the waterfalls and cows. Both can be terrifying in their own sense. After gaining permission from the cows to check the falls, I was greeted by the curling beast. There are multiple names for this falls, one being Fairy Falls, but I tend to not like 'labels'. So, we will just let it be as is. </div><div><br /></div><div>Everyone was pretty impressed with the drop, and no one seemed fired up to run it. Darin ferried across the river above the drop. He came back with an even more certain decision not to run it. I, however, was not convinced, and ferried over there myself. Standing from a different viewpoint than I had ever seen, enabled to see the waterfall in a different light. The chaos of whitewater tumulting down the lip actually looked appealing to me, and I decided to run it. I threw my paddle off the waterfall into the pool below to Jason Craig. Hand-paddles would be my weapon of choice for this encounter. </div><div><br /></div><div>This would be the largest drop I had ever run, and it was a first descent on something that many other elite kayakers wanted no part of. My adrenaline was pumping, but I felt confident that I could make the move. I also felt confident in the crew, should my attempt turn sour, and force some sort of physical damage. After visualizing my line many times, I got in my ultra-light, super-padded, kayak. Splashed some water in my face, put my hand-paddles on, and after a few last-minute prayers, I entered the raging river. </div><div><br /></div><div>Approaching the lip, I felt extremely confident, guiding my kayak exactly where I wanted to be, far right. I tried not to give any attention to Robby manning a GoPro camera, and focused with all my heart and mind. As I started to fall, I literally Charged into the overhead curler with the intentions of punching through it. Not much can be remembered in those brief moments between the lip and landing, but I remember getting slammed to the deck of my boat, and feeling myself floating in the pool upside down. I knew immediately I was alright and rolled up. The energy was flowing through me like a conductor to a nuclear plant. </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiGSpdZeZNd-TRcfsiXSSSV1UnPHdaVfKrC163ziPRWJEoRuEWQ47m5AERgF-UQjWr9qpqv3kQ9kuZAFkuLJeL6M5LmSGvlYYdoyUGbGrs7SmjLx9T-tIzVWnaVjVVUoUXdAyN1Q/s1600/Pruett003-vi.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiGSpdZeZNd-TRcfsiXSSSV1UnPHdaVfKrC163ziPRWJEoRuEWQ47m5AERgF-UQjWr9qpqv3kQ9kuZAFkuLJeL6M5LmSGvlYYdoyUGbGrs7SmjLx9T-tIzVWnaVjVVUoUXdAyN1Q/s400/Pruett003-vi.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672417463154010274" style="cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px; " /></a></div><div>Stellar photo by Darin Mcquoid.</div><div><br /></div><div>Cheers and high fives ensued. Quickly, after discussing to everyone I was fine, even though they heard a loud noise once I disappeared behind the curtain, we began contemplating the lower falls. Its amazing how energy spreads. I could sense that everyone was fired up just from watching me run the upper falls. Taylor quickly decided to run the lower falls. He gave it a good go, but came back with tales of a rocky landing, as we already knew. I can't remember exactly how it went down. </div><div><br /></div><div>I just remember talking to Jason before he entered the pool above the drop. I felt slightly inclined to give him beta on the current pushing hard left at the lip, which is where you don't want to get pushed. But, I felt that Darin had probably given him enough advice and that he didn't need anymore. Jason Charged the lip confidently, but got pushed left. He landed on the slightly submerged rock directly under his butt, and immediately swam out of his kayak. The blood curtailing scream he let out gave us all the indicator that something definitely wasn't right. </div><div><br /></div><div>Taylor was first on the scene, and pulled Jason out of the water, as he wasn't capable himself. We all made our way across the walled in min-gorge that exists at the base of the falls. Gareth Tate, a Winderness Medicine Instructor, began diagnosing Jason's injuries. Unfortunately, Jason also forgot to close the relief zipper on his Kokatat dry-suit. Creating a fish-tank of cold river water in his pants. We cut the booties and drained the water, but he was still shivering to the point of hypothermia. We all began removing what warm layers we had to create a blanket to try and keep him warm. </div><div><br /></div><div>Cody Howard hit his SPOT device, notifying local emergency medical crews of our need. A helicopter began circling above, but couldn't land due to bad weather and lack of landing spots. Finally, rescue crews arrived on the opposite side of the river, and we ferried a body board to where Jason was. We very carefully placed Jason on the body board and began slowly Z-dragging him up the canyon wall. It was a very tense situation, as every movement was inflicting excruciating pain on Jason. </div><div><br /></div><div>Nonetheless, Jason was handling it like a weathered old navy seal or something. Pretending that the pain wasn't affecting too much, he quickly agreed to the idea of using a boogie-board to ferry him across to the rescue team. Darin lied on top of Jason on the boogie-board to ensure he wouldn't flip in the turbulent current. Sure enough, the current tried to flip them, and Darin used his playboatinng training to lean downstream and keep them upright. Not more than 5 seconds after getting Jason across the river to the rescue team, darkness ensued. We couldn't have made it any closer to the line. </div><div><br /></div><div>Jason was taken to the Marysville hospital where it was confirmed that his Spleen had been shattered and separated his legs from his hips. Nerve damage was also done, but the doctors said we did a fantastic job of keeping his body stable during the evacuation. A tragic incident for sure, but it looks like Jason is going to have a great recovery, and he is already kayaking again as I write this more that 6 months since it happened. Just a prime example of the danger involved with running large-marginale waterfalls. Much respect goes to Jason and his family for keeping a positive outlook during these troubling times. </div><div><br /></div><div>Cody put up a sweet video from the days. Its on HuckinHuge.com You will have to find it there. Its under Cali First D's.</div><div><p style="margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px; font: 12.0px Helvetica"><br /></p></div><div>Until next time, keep the Charge alive!</div>the chargerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02660325895255791759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18292914.post-88483789018567521652011-08-08T16:37:00.001-07:002011-08-08T17:05:33.508-07:00Lifestylin'
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<br />When living the life, try to do so with style. Its not always that we find ourselves deep in a gorge running the shizznizzle with the mob, but that doesn't mean you can't always have a good time. So when you find yourself somewhere besides the kayakers church, try to have fun. Don't worry, there are some kayaking pics in here too, but they are of my local gem the South Yuba, which I believe is one of the best rivers in the state. <div>
<br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl3d25t0-eayLoOOQG7AEKDL9-Px3TB3_S7Ke0HqOT4NGdwPKbez7gb9wHbK9V6Z8zovIcKMFPf1it-yrTTWWc9Bh7UJcBfSg0ST7v3LlRrp49AIwoE8zQ4GEAqFzdZVd1oGtUrA/s1600/P7020025.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl3d25t0-eayLoOOQG7AEKDL9-Px3TB3_S7Ke0HqOT4NGdwPKbez7gb9wHbK9V6Z8zovIcKMFPf1it-yrTTWWc9Bh7UJcBfSg0ST7v3LlRrp49AIwoE8zQ4GEAqFzdZVd1oGtUrA/s400/P7020025.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638635264120180978" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a>
<br /></div><div>The boys from the SE enjoying a fine Charge down the Edwards to Purdons section of the S Yuba. We did a lil' lifstylin' in there too.</div><div>
<br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb2ND8gDX9M2qkUmsA3t68BPl-mFU1ARrzDob0qZN98mgCWClvyO3ZxViupwrTu3eOBnvQQLj2IavxfLXgFot-Q_lEW9j0fbMUWPbOaMpETSUTKoI4YdrxkX6c69z2hym6iqYB7w/s1600/P7030029.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb2ND8gDX9M2qkUmsA3t68BPl-mFU1ARrzDob0qZN98mgCWClvyO3ZxViupwrTu3eOBnvQQLj2IavxfLXgFot-Q_lEW9j0fbMUWPbOaMpETSUTKoI4YdrxkX6c69z2hym6iqYB7w/s400/P7030029.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638635269966604642" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a>
<br /></div><div>King Charles throwing down in the put-in hole for E to P at around 3,000 CFS. Manboating at its best.</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvSp474BuEDEqE3Et15vgQTs6iU8w9kJpzAbygKha0_Jr0L_1EWb8DJ9NodGaN2jOOflP2HkoeJ8t8rmwORgbtGqMd413QjQ89nAk5tAVL7he8U9Br_tEIAygA5z4nT_vpPu-1wg/s1600/P7030030.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvSp474BuEDEqE3Et15vgQTs6iU8w9kJpzAbygKha0_Jr0L_1EWb8DJ9NodGaN2jOOflP2HkoeJ8t8rmwORgbtGqMd413QjQ89nAk5tAVL7he8U9Br_tEIAygA5z4nT_vpPu-1wg/s400/P7030030.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638635277115731266" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a>
<br /></div><div>We saw some cool catarafters enjoying the aqua also.</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPeKGgF8AZo7jyX6sGURSFrjsRyQbMw__KUaatzUrGjPladr4ffTe_QoVKx0VF7kSA9ZkeShx-gJ11eDJrmcpNwCUH0-5pBC7SrBMsuNFTqjJC4U2q0PppUC3lM4Xsp-XtkWaoHg/s1600/P7040036.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPeKGgF8AZo7jyX6sGURSFrjsRyQbMw__KUaatzUrGjPladr4ffTe_QoVKx0VF7kSA9ZkeShx-gJ11eDJrmcpNwCUH0-5pBC7SrBMsuNFTqjJC4U2q0PppUC3lM4Xsp-XtkWaoHg/s400/P7040036.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638635282923365282" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a>
<br /></div><div>We went to majestic Lake Tahoe on the 4th of July to celebrate our Independence. Tequila chugging ensued thanks to the Kiwis. </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAk5qaDGInbDxnKPJMhh0gGfR76FH6FWVEMWsbat2fjNbj_J7y8gnkah_3HwYQsxoP5FiBO8vu3PwSUwJrJBiBi7IcRWt0mqeMYVfqUrYtOh5KK548pVKOkjTYtqCd24Qdm8Nmgw/s1600/P7040044.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAk5qaDGInbDxnKPJMhh0gGfR76FH6FWVEMWsbat2fjNbj_J7y8gnkah_3HwYQsxoP5FiBO8vu3PwSUwJrJBiBi7IcRWt0mqeMYVfqUrYtOh5KK548pVKOkjTYtqCd24Qdm8Nmgw/s400/P7040044.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638635287426700466" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a>
<br /></div><div>Cody Howard and Brandi Suppi enjoying the Life in lake Tahoe. These two are pure gold. </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp9ys_4qn19L8CVoLAi0IRwkyiYTXdFjntndRQTS1urVkzEnEwfDWiMInpO_nVoeEkbDIPPha_sYHAplpWWym040xtUCTJzYHXkC1E5525otSXVnlK6Y2ggGRl_Tz7q6PBWp_ylg/s1600/P7040057.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp9ys_4qn19L8CVoLAi0IRwkyiYTXdFjntndRQTS1urVkzEnEwfDWiMInpO_nVoeEkbDIPPha_sYHAplpWWym040xtUCTJzYHXkC1E5525otSXVnlK6Y2ggGRl_Tz7q6PBWp_ylg/s400/P7040057.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638637599969194642" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a>
<br /></div><div>New Zealand versus America. Brandi seems to be enjoying the entertainment. I'm glad I have the date feature of my camera figured out so you know this was really taken on July 4th...</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikWfVhmGlDsUf_HLE52dXtd2xv0487pUHPnWaptRWCcxPv9pTTTVmiEgv0aKcBWRZMpMxihKX-EduN8La43ZXP042kA7MDNyBdhe54Ajf6DdKpMH33PX8FNnE3nBc6hQGcR3i0Nw/s1600/P7050063.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikWfVhmGlDsUf_HLE52dXtd2xv0487pUHPnWaptRWCcxPv9pTTTVmiEgv0aKcBWRZMpMxihKX-EduN8La43ZXP042kA7MDNyBdhe54Ajf6DdKpMH33PX8FNnE3nBc6hQGcR3i0Nw/s400/P7050063.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638637603802215970" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a>
<br /></div><div>Loves Falls master Mike Peacher staring down a beast we would walk away from due to high flow. Peacher is the only guy I know who has run Loves over ten times without swimming out of the Love Shack. Hes legit.</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXqKrr-uMJ_KN9IhNiNP3cGI-dCkx-alGCSGvcI7gooS0-Gq34_vDAH6gkyq_KV_jSYJk7irTaiETM0wc6rvSb1-AVRWFOmDcQ7IKOgZjjnkLyXnH8kJkYO_cUNmfgJus0YSGVOg/s1600/P7060067.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXqKrr-uMJ_KN9IhNiNP3cGI-dCkx-alGCSGvcI7gooS0-Gq34_vDAH6gkyq_KV_jSYJk7irTaiETM0wc6rvSb1-AVRWFOmDcQ7IKOgZjjnkLyXnH8kJkYO_cUNmfgJus0YSGVOg/s400/P7060067.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638637608954255666" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div>A wicked moth who has evolved to look like a big predator. He wasn't fooling me. </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJTfa-nz1KONtdK1FqxE3OdmWqldG8Gjv6Mm4lc29ey0Atcrrf77wcSpvBvon_wrY0hZWvphTXeB8R-gssbYD2JlJcLXVDGIvog-nzIbyBD4v34_K272krVY-UdEo9HFn2fdIBQw/s1600/P7060072.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJTfa-nz1KONtdK1FqxE3OdmWqldG8Gjv6Mm4lc29ey0Atcrrf77wcSpvBvon_wrY0hZWvphTXeB8R-gssbYD2JlJcLXVDGIvog-nzIbyBD4v34_K272krVY-UdEo9HFn2fdIBQw/s400/P7060072.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638637615063586482" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a>
<br /></div><div>Lil' A seal launching in after the only one we portaged on Summit.</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxivQZjuAxP05bRySGP3xoxjGIaVhSO3vCrvTZVsGwzQoBoQpk3Xke4xKuWuNeQoNrA5_LFYnLakIgk4weaFs8neJ4AirTeRqhPpKlOlW972dara87VbaLkqQel9-c4vsWvwUWtA/s1600/P7060099.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxivQZjuAxP05bRySGP3xoxjGIaVhSO3vCrvTZVsGwzQoBoQpk3Xke4xKuWuNeQoNrA5_LFYnLakIgk4weaFs8neJ4AirTeRqhPpKlOlW972dara87VbaLkqQel9-c4vsWvwUWtA/s400/P7060099.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638637618444135218" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a>
<br /></div><div>The man, Tommy Hilleke, charging a massive boof off East meets West rapid on Summit run of the S Yuba. Hes a father and badass at the same time. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>I think one of the main reasons I'm so partial to the S Yuba is its lack of portages. With the exception of the Yuba Gap, which has its fair share, but still worthy in every sense. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>Keep on styling!</div>the chargerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02660325895255791759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18292914.post-91093183937861936892011-08-08T16:09:00.000-07:002011-08-08T16:35:36.200-07:00Big KimshewYo,<div>
<br /><div>First off, Big Kimshew creek is an amazing stretch of high-quality whitewater. Therefore, word quickly spreads, and more and more people show up to Charge this piece every year. For good reason. I think our crew this year consisted of about 11 burl-chargers. A mob to say the least. They left me at one point. I actually moved close to the put-in for a brief stint while the creek was running, but quickly realized there ain't much up there besides old Kimshizzle. I moved on.</div><div>
<br /></div><div> I'm gonna try to write little, and post pictures alot from now on. Mainly because pictures are much more entertaining than my writing. Pictures are quite a bit easier to take and post too. With that said, enjoy these pics and I will try to keep them coming. </div><div>
<br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz2ARjS2qkxxXmUJHUTSIzSb7EYRuDMbRcLrIzf5bIq8tMBx7y8c_Mjq8lQgaspOq1wrVMuUYoPqyI1YWefx7BpeRmF1dsc47hOhaEKbjyUrxuu32t-Pb91NLaRBB2x-sfPCEQcA/s1600/P6300003.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz2ARjS2qkxxXmUJHUTSIzSb7EYRuDMbRcLrIzf5bIq8tMBx7y8c_Mjq8lQgaspOq1wrVMuUYoPqyI1YWefx7BpeRmF1dsc47hOhaEKbjyUrxuu32t-Pb91NLaRBB2x-sfPCEQcA/s400/P6300003.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638626793920272610" /></a></div><div>Heres Barny "the Blessing" Young boofing the dogg poo out of the tricky first 20'er. Ole Snarly is looking on in the foreground. I will tell him to move next time. This was the first time I actually ran this drop clean. </div><div>
<br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZy1Rxq-N3VjU7ZQaw-g0sWV-FaDzd6_rfqcKyUj31ayubgvJ8RhfYW3cZNzKfjdy7P5888-m8boG3SHXqIeWd5Z_fDkVq64MURc2swZ86ZuuWa1liz2a5K6MihKUmSU_8pmLfkw/s1600/P6300005.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZy1Rxq-N3VjU7ZQaw-g0sWV-FaDzd6_rfqcKyUj31ayubgvJ8RhfYW3cZNzKfjdy7P5888-m8boG3SHXqIeWd5Z_fDkVq64MURc2swZ86ZuuWa1liz2a5K6MihKUmSU_8pmLfkw/s400/P6300005.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638626805802391650" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div>A good ole' SE transplant smiling big after a sweet un-named slide above Triple Drop. Her name is Adrien Levkenctch (SP?)... she killed it out there with the boys. </div><div>
<br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBMaq10ltuupX7ho-3Lp0o4ZiRmHhNqOk2tSQSe2xeKRFaFAwbwTeiHSY3U2c1o3osmU-mYXVvh_ItVuPdqxYZKcly5ihyphenhyphenMJiiEHqRv2R0-brDkdqVGwDZ5CXaCCVaUTERY5ypCA/s1600/P6300006.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBMaq10ltuupX7ho-3Lp0o4ZiRmHhNqOk2tSQSe2xeKRFaFAwbwTeiHSY3U2c1o3osmU-mYXVvh_ItVuPdqxYZKcly5ihyphenhyphenMJiiEHqRv2R0-brDkdqVGwDZ5CXaCCVaUTERY5ypCA/s400/P6300006.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638626795100494066" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div>Nick Murphy relaxing below Frenchies 40. My boat got tired of waiting on me to film the mob, and decided to run the drop w/o me. I pulled her back up with the help of Sean "man-cheese" Manchester. It was a good decision to run it. </div><div>
<br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY2Nm5UKLGfAzdckJkcI38TOfo3diauVGDNXylQ4dueHp_KV_sSPIVsxUfCOULY8T-KII77NkEpaxd2SypmpZJdveZ-q4awJtqpbi21SAH-zsCMTp8sd-p_iZsajtAhFJT9ZiDCQ/s1600/P6300007.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY2Nm5UKLGfAzdckJkcI38TOfo3diauVGDNXylQ4dueHp_KV_sSPIVsxUfCOULY8T-KII77NkEpaxd2SypmpZJdveZ-q4awJtqpbi21SAH-zsCMTp8sd-p_iZsajtAhFJT9ZiDCQ/s400/P6300007.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638626809507875090" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div>Another Boonanison checking out the Cali goods on a lil' road trip. Eric Chance plugs his Pure XL into the last drop on Kimshew proper. Never fear, for Secret Stash is about to appear. </div><div>
<br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPjQfRCPWA3lmcLo6Z5GiPYSlHKuzjDrlEQJ8Fhp4zgz9qYGY0vy90vCMGjHb5dYcCAXwf4_8yCc4K8Q-HZiLrzP1lNQ5s_nfH2o4e3MyHA92YnDi6LOyuIoGTDKCVb2qjL_EP4Q/s1600/P6300010.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPjQfRCPWA3lmcLo6Z5GiPYSlHKuzjDrlEQJ8Fhp4zgz9qYGY0vy90vCMGjHb5dYcCAXwf4_8yCc4K8Q-HZiLrzP1lNQ5s_nfH2o4e3MyHA92YnDi6LOyuIoGTDKCVb2qjL_EP4Q/s400/P6300010.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638626816264055858" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div>Mancheese isn't addicted to crack, but when in Rome... </div><div>
<br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5JMJkXnCrcGsl8_88OJERLgncr0OaPcEPnL7_hmlNeasQb2WA_I6VkWnkIwsyzyeiipP_UxB1l8JJ_wRPBPYTc1zXFE_Fgo9aiaveZKpquoEqxR1NXE0J5Dgp2HsuQfvYirzbTg/s1600/P6300012.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5JMJkXnCrcGsl8_88OJERLgncr0OaPcEPnL7_hmlNeasQb2WA_I6VkWnkIwsyzyeiipP_UxB1l8JJ_wRPBPYTc1zXFE_Fgo9aiaveZKpquoEqxR1NXE0J5Dgp2HsuQfvYirzbTg/s400/P6300012.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638631328990438722" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div>Barny mobbing into a nice rapid on the Stash. I usually portage this one, but we all found it surprisingly manageable. </div><div>
<br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFQw73OoEgESWwTixKgSUuu9XLX8_kVI8HqpxpjPGaEZ4luSiUeRMd5q2MeWf9w6RyVcNDA_Lyrqqy8K7u6VT4oel7yrmYLC6xDQluydfiWp6NtTlZ4RK3Ll92v4ij0ypxGU0gCg/s1600/P6300017.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFQw73OoEgESWwTixKgSUuu9XLX8_kVI8HqpxpjPGaEZ4luSiUeRMd5q2MeWf9w6RyVcNDA_Lyrqqy8K7u6VT4oel7yrmYLC6xDQluydfiWp6NtTlZ4RK3Ll92v4ij0ypxGU0gCg/s400/P6300017.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638631333959303106" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div>The legend, Jason Hale, bout to give a hole some loving.</div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOjAf-GmicARHj5eafgWsmIIh_vMgXRy6d6WeuBUYWy86zdyQ9YyjNa7Lu-TjXLTTMSmVz_cK0GdrxvQ8RfoNExATyT2KKm0QS3dFWXdbZZHLXIV6fI_mXvf6TCSdRbWu25E2Y8g/s1600/P6300019.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOjAf-GmicARHj5eafgWsmIIh_vMgXRy6d6WeuBUYWy86zdyQ9YyjNa7Lu-TjXLTTMSmVz_cK0GdrxvQ8RfoNExATyT2KKm0QS3dFWXdbZZHLXIV6fI_mXvf6TCSdRbWu25E2Y8g/s400/P6300019.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5638631341794662770" style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></a></div><div>King "Snarly" Charlie probing the last big one on the West "is best" Branch of the Feather.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>A good time we had indeed. Can't wait til' next year. I think we all agreed that the section from Kimshew Falls down could be the best whitewater in the world. Let me know if you concur. </div><div>
<br /></div><div>Late
<br />
<br /></div></div>the chargerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02660325895255791759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18292914.post-22869961977558893422011-03-23T16:15:00.000-07:002011-03-23T16:20:55.961-07:00Raven Fork<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:trackmoves/> <w:trackformatting/> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:donotpromoteqf/> <w:lidthemeother>EN-US</w:LidThemeOther> <w:lidthemeasian>X-NONE</w:LidThemeAsian> <w:lidthemecomplexscript>X-NONE</w:LidThemeComplexScript> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> <w:splitpgbreakandparamark/> <w:dontvertaligncellwithsp/> <w:dontbreakconstrainedforcedtables/> <w:dontvertalignintxbx/> 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mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-priority:99; mso-style-qformat:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} </style> <![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:shapedefaults ext="edit" spidmax="1026"> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <o:shapelayout ext="edit"> <o:idmap ext="edit" data="1"> </o:shapelayout></xml><![endif]--> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>The Green Race inspires confidence within all the racers that participate. Unfortunately, the weather doesn’t always enable us to use this boost in confidence. However, it did finally rain again in the SE, and got all of us kayakers into a fluster as to what will run and when. I had been chilling in Asheville at the Dirtbaggers Inc. hostel, aka Lee, Murph, and Stone’s house, enjoying the daily routine of going to paddle the Green. It didn’t run a few days, and actually, went out skateboarding and golfing with the hostel owners, which was quite fun. Nevertheless, it rained a little, and I began weighing my options on what I thought would be the best option for the day. As they often do, the Smokies took the brunt of the rain, and there was word that the West Prong was running. I rendezvoused with Dustin Marquart over at his house and began debating on what the Raven Fork was doing, using the Oconoluftee gauge and Newfound gap rain gauge. The Ocono was at around 700 and not really rising or falling, but the Newfound Gap gauge was showing an increase.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>The decision wasn’t very promising, but we took off toward Cherokee with the best of intentions to paddle the Raven Fork. Once in Cherokee, the first sight of the Ocono in town was neither discouraging nor encouraging, as it is difficult to judge how much water is in the wide, shallow, stream-bed. Thus, we continued on to Emmanuel’s house, and were pleasantly surprised to find the Raven stick-gauge to be reading 7 inches. It was on! Having just one 2wd car, we thought driving straight to the put-in road would save us some precious time, as it was already past noon. We soon found out that the put-in road was under construction, and got trapped between two massive excavators moving rocks. We aborted that mission and went to Emmanuel’s house. Emmanuel informed us that we could use the rough road and just park at the bottom, as he was certain nobody would be using it. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <span style=""> </span>It was raining, and made the hike more pleasurable than normal, knowing that the river was coming up, not down. Once at the river, we quickly scouted Anaconda for wood, as we had heard from previous groups that there was new wood in Mortal Kombat and Caveman. The snake was free of wood, but still very intimidating. As usual, Dustin was quick to charge the first big rapid of the day. I followed suit, and we began bombing at will. It is nice to get on a river with a good friend where you both know the lines well, and you can just give the nod and go.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <span style=""></span><span style=""> </span>In no time, we were standing on the perfectly placed boulder overlooking the lip of Big Boy. Dustin immediately declared he wanted to run it, and I agreed to set safety first. Once in the pool below, I patently waited to see Dustin come charging down the face of the beast. In typical Dustin fashion, he styled through the curler and landed in the nice soft pillow below at a perfect 45 degree angle. His line was confidence inspiring for sure. I hiked back up to my boat, and began to mentally preparing myself for the drop. This would be my second run of the waterfall, and I had a different line in mind than my first. I allowed myself to drift towards the right side of the epic hallway that leads to the lip, and then turned my bow back to the left and began sliding down the slab on the right side. I waited until the very brink of the slide to take my stroke and it worked like a charm, sending me left into the pillow at a nice 45 degree angle also. We were both stoked to be all good after running such an amazing waterfall. We took our round with the Champ, and then portaged the first few drops of caveman because of a new strainer. The bottom boof was still open for business, and we took full advantage of laying her down like an F-16 on an aircraft carrier. Never forget though, the mangler lies waiting downstream for those still hungry for more, or just accidentally miss the last eddy before dropping into the maw. It’s always refreshing to reach Emmanuel’s house after a great run, to take a few pulls of strong water and warm up by the fire. What an amazing place to go kayaking in the magical smoky mountains. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <span style=""></span>There’s a reason why the Raven Fork is rated Number 1 in Tommy’s Top Ten Creeks of Western North Caroina. Therefore, I showed up early at Emanuel’s house the next day, in hopes of finding other Chargers looking to route before she dropped out. <span style=""> </span>I waited for a while, easily killing time, swinging on the front porch with The Man, listening to timeless stories I hope to hear for many more years to come. Mark Taylor showed up with a gift for The Man, as always appreciated. Soon followed by some Team Jib home-boys; Taft Sibley, John Trimbley, and Nathan McDade, looking to get their Charge on this glorious November day. To my surprise, Charles Armentrout, whose nickname will be mentioned later, rolled into the driveway in his 2wd Tacoma. We loaded up, and I made a clutch decision to bring my big, yellow, tow-strap. Sure enough, the tow-strap enabled us to pull the Tacoma up the steep section of the muddy road with Mark’s sweet 4wd Isuzu Trooper. Not having to hike that extra bit of road makes the experience so much sweeter. After a quick pre-hike safety meeting, we were hoofing through some of the most beautiful woods in the world. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>Second run, just as scary, and just as fun. Everybody made it to the river, and we began unraveling our mind from Anaconda. Taft had to execute a little snake charming to keep himself sea-worthy, as to be expected from at least someone in a group of six. This trip was to be a different sort of trip than the previous day with Dustin. It was Charles and Trembley’s first time down the mighty Raven Fork, and I was going to make certain that it was a good one. I like to give minimal beta, meaning I focus on where you need to go, and briefly go over the hazards. I like to think solely on where I want to go, not where I don’t want to go. Thus, rapid names like Right Right are great because they express beta. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>As mentioned before, it’s always amazing how quick you get to the Big Boy. After a quick scout, I was somewhat surprised, yet also relieved to hear the boys asking me if I was going to fire it up first. I guess I have gotten to a point in my kayaking where I feel pretty comfortable running big drops without safety. Now, other people realize I am comfortable with it too. Once again, I found myself mentally preparing myself for the Big Boy, quietly reciting the Vajra Guru mantra I learned while studying at my Tibetan Buddhist institute. The mantra helps me focus on my breath and connect with the three main shakras of the body. It must have worked because once again I found myself peacefully floating through the hallway to another portal of experience, where thoughts take a back seat to instinct. I resurfaced in the eddy to look up and see none other than the elusive double rainbow! I didn’t know what it meant, but I motioned for the boys to fire it up; so that, they too may catch a glimpse of this rare, natural, occurrence.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> <span style=""> </span>On par with most spectacular rainbows, it didn’t last long enough for the following chargers to enjoy the grandeur. It didn’t matter though; they were stoked enough from running the waterfall cleanly. Props go out to my insanely good squirt boating buddies, Taft and Trembley for boofing the dog poop out of it their first run on Big Boy. Mark Taylor also had a stellar line, which is featured along with other great footage from the day, in his Raven Fork movie at the bottom of this page. We routed Mike Tyson and re-united with Charles and Nathan at the bottom. Unfortunately, the wood in the entrance to Caveman hadn’t miraculously moved on its own from the day before. So, we portaged the first two drops of caveman, to (in the words of the legendary blogger/kayaker Evan Garcia) ‘lay treats’ on the final boof. Not everyone ‘laid treats’ per say, and I was lucky enough to save a few wary boofers from taking a lesson with the Caveman.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""> </span>Onward we moved to the proud beat of some satisfied chargers. Once at the Mangler portage, we began casually joking and discussing the various lines of the day. I let my guard down for a brief instant while performing a rock climbing maneuver, which we kayakers aren’t so accustomed to. This resulted in a wicked fall that ripped my shoulder upwards in a fashion that did some damage, but luckily, nothing too serious to paddle out. To all you up and coming Raven Forkers, or even veterans, be careful while portaging. Rocks are hard, especially when not at least somewhat covered by water. I hear that 90% of river injuries occur while portaging. On that note, if you see the line, and feel confident in making it, don’t let anything stop you from making it happen. At the same time though, there is no shame in portaging. Just be careful and aware while out there in gutters of the earth. They are amazing places. Dear Raven Fork, stay primed for all the chargers out there. We greatly appreciate every second spent in there. <span style=""> </span><span style=""><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="">Here are a video Mark Taylor made from my 2nd day on the Raven. Cheers.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/20083816" width="400" height="225" frameborder="0"></iframe><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/20083816">Raven Fork</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user5506962">Mark Taylor</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style=""><br /></span></p>the chargerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02660325895255791759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18292914.post-32367400466017318692011-03-21T13:53:00.000-07:002011-03-22T16:45:06.356-07:00Cali Crunch TimeBear River Falls, California<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgA05O9ADuXQQQGpXIMJ6lbQulfvvq2bdpfwTmGSFjxQiDy-B-7s2eZttl_xUMEBCFNTubyI27wxLE7n8EoRmRwMQdD_ejUFGiQEa-A1it_omS4FGH-zN7Ntd_73xwYvam3KpG0w/s1600/IMG_0967.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgA05O9ADuXQQQGpXIMJ6lbQulfvvq2bdpfwTmGSFjxQiDy-B-7s2eZttl_xUMEBCFNTubyI27wxLE7n8EoRmRwMQdD_ejUFGiQEa-A1it_omS4FGH-zN7Ntd_73xwYvam3KpG0w/s400/IMG_0967.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587045518693269186" border="0" /></a><br />Change is the only thing that is constant. With that I mind, I strive to continue changing for the better, and embrace change to work for my advantage. Rivers, mountains, people, economies, islands, boats, mind-sets; all of this things are constantly changing. Its pretty exciting to think about what the future may hold because we don't really know. If we knew what was in store for the future, then it wouldn't be so intriguing. As a kayaker, I am able to explore places that I couldn't otherwise without my boat, paddle, and skills. These places often shake the core of me, which I try to hold as being the constant of my existence. The rapids force me to decide whether I am mentally, physically, and spiritually ready to encounter something that could possibly change my life forever. And they often do. I believe that, just as a river, we cannot hold a certain level of paddling. We are either progressing or regressing. There can be no other. In my own opinion of course.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyloIFbTQEoDvIy80xGXgEOVkQWji4IrO2KMiM6YRa33IolUGnBVomxPFc6-GSPdm3FRNS_2AbN0uBU-bYTi9Lwr5Oyq7n_j6nA6Zdoeq0nsYE6GMT3hXj85pkZvekomcMklOWRw/s1600/IMG_1003.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyloIFbTQEoDvIy80xGXgEOVkQWji4IrO2KMiM6YRa33IolUGnBVomxPFc6-GSPdm3FRNS_2AbN0uBU-bYTi9Lwr5Oyq7n_j6nA6Zdoeq0nsYE6GMT3hXj85pkZvekomcMklOWRw/s400/IMG_1003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587049876404077666" border="0" /></a><br />As of late, I have been pushing myself to progress as a kayaker. Moving to Nevada City, California has put me in a position to paddle amazing whitewater almost every single day of the year. While most of the stretches of river in the area have been run in the past. We have begun exploring places that no other kayaker has gone before. Luckily, there is a great crew of paddlers in the area who are motivated to seek out and test these virgin waters with me.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOEW5rO3xXAi-jnLJ15DFwlYDy9CqzRqYIC0wdN-K0GcuVXD53DsnXc44jiqmB9tU2eKDFYbRqELNbM7LYjiFL7bHLPRYoLYcgaMZ7cURWy3hliBWG2RiUjP-WJt_rr2lEsixziw/s1600/IMG_1119.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOEW5rO3xXAi-jnLJ15DFwlYDy9CqzRqYIC0wdN-K0GcuVXD53DsnXc44jiqmB9tU2eKDFYbRqELNbM7LYjiFL7bHLPRYoLYcgaMZ7cURWy3hliBWG2RiUjP-WJt_rr2lEsixziw/s400/IMG_1119.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587045522782642818" border="0" /></a><br />Back sometime this February, when it hadn't rained in weeks and the rivers were beginning to dry up; Cody Howard, Cory Tucker, and myself were going to paddle the Bear River near Colfax. Seeing as this was the only thing running in the area, thanks to a dam. We were just stoked to get back in our kayaks, even though the flow was low and the stretch is short. Then while gearing up for the run, a pivotal moment in my life happened. Cody said that Robby Hogg had mentioned a 20' waterfall above the normal put-in, and the spark was ignited. Despite some speculation as to whether the falls existed or not, we hiked up to find out the truth for ourselves. After a short hike up the river, I was greeted by a grand sight of spillway to waterfall after waterfall. It is beautiful there to say the least. The sun was shining and the falls looked totally charge-able. Not knowing whether anybody had run these falls before, I was stoked on the thought of a first descent. I ferried across the pool, and gave the landing zone a quick scout before making the short and easy climb to the top of the falls. I looked back to the trail to see Cody and Cory wide-eyed and grinning at the sight of these cascading beauties. Cody signaled for a Ro-Sham-Bo match to decide who would get to run the falls first. But I was already at the staging pool, and he was still on the other side of the river. I opted out of the Ro-Sham-Bo, and quickly got in my new, custom-outfitted, Jefe Grande. A small side slot led to the lip of the falls perfectly, and before I knew it, I was sending a huge boof off a sweet 20' falls. I didn't stomp as much as I would have liked to, but the impact was still fairly soft. I motioned to the boys that it is good-to-go and the huck-fest began. Heres Cory Tucker having a nice line.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY8R2cdm2bq9CmgYmZdqD4NyfnsD9B7rsqDDpVp6wh9TQJxMrgGr7_TqUZ1zjYNZHWc-J0vvOvhq258gYHKNg507Ax8WawLSmNgpEo7-sEkCsX3J19fCHlmOHFBGz717N0KgxxZA/s1600/IMG_1132.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY8R2cdm2bq9CmgYmZdqD4NyfnsD9B7rsqDDpVp6wh9TQJxMrgGr7_TqUZ1zjYNZHWc-J0vvOvhq258gYHKNg507Ax8WawLSmNgpEo7-sEkCsX3J19fCHlmOHFBGz717N0KgxxZA/s400/IMG_1132.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587045529113463890" border="0" /></a><br />All of us proceeded to rally off this drop multiple times the first day, and none of us received the same results twice. In other words, its a tricky lip that will give you various lines depending on how you run it. What more could you ask for? Well, it just so happens that a larger, less-runnable, drop lies just upstream of previous said falls. After the first day of hucking Bear River falls, I receded back to my off-the-grid cabin up in the woods with hopes and dreams of running the upper falls. A couple of days later, we were back at the falls, and I was seriously contemplating the upper falls. With much debate as to how and where to run it, I chose my line and decided that hand-paddles would be a good choice for this technical, low-volume, 25'er. The hand paddles enabled me to lift and scoot myself into position out of the small, precariously located, eddy at the lip. There I was, changing what I thought was possible for me to run in my kayak, with hand-paddles that I have very little experience with. A few quick strokes and I was sliding down the slab into a free-fall that gives you a moment in time where no thoughts exist. I entered the pool at a nice vertical angle, but the landing zone wasn't very aerated, resulting in a pretty massive hit, that even ripped one of the hand-paddles off. Not to worry, my body was fine, and rolling with one hand-paddle is easier than with none at all. Success, and a great feeling of accomplishment overwhelmed me as I cheered in celebration with Cory, who was standing at the base of the falls shooting photos and setting safety. Also of note that day, a buddy from Auburn named Alex Conheim, charged a RiverBug off the lower falls. If you aren't familiar with a RiverBug, here is a shot of him falling off the lip. Good times there for sure!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmJWHgiJrEPnJdP9hbc1fhgz4cn08Ood8PWTMlrikD7b5PFdt27zNcN0nHx8wo6ZXz-demDhvqvM2J_1BBGVtuUH3upqyM6PCb-hOEnArna7A2clbUVK7RrZ09Ex0C96_9SZx6jA/s1600/IMG_1051.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmJWHgiJrEPnJdP9hbc1fhgz4cn08Ood8PWTMlrikD7b5PFdt27zNcN0nHx8wo6ZXz-demDhvqvM2J_1BBGVtuUH3upqyM6PCb-hOEnArna7A2clbUVK7RrZ09Ex0C96_9SZx6jA/s400/IMG_1051.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587045516819814178" border="0" /></a><br />Turns out, that the lower Bear Falls was first run by some guys in inner tubes; so, congrats to them. I do believe I am the only person to have run the upper falls. Not that it really matters. What matters, is that I continue to change as a kayaker/person, and keep exploring new rivers and waterfalls. I hope we all will continue to explore and find what it is in life that makes us feel alive and special. This is just one of the many stories I have from the past few months. I plan to record them all here, for my writing pleasure, and (hopefully) your reading pleasure, as I see this as a useful tool for a number of different reasons. Hope you are Charging whatever it is you love to do. Until next time, Charge On! Cody Howard of HuckinHuge.com made a sweet video from these days. Check it out towards the bottom.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibNdPUFPT6ewln9oqRPf84hSqKPRzox_FSzD1l3qzxNzvBPVy20z4MwzjPh1FPwIOT84RO3a_03oBq045q2QuFI29m6gi5xTijVxONlQlTBWMo1muzkrcRo6SWuHxjUFrdOvD6Tw/s1600/IMG_1104.JPG"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibNdPUFPT6ewln9oqRPf84hSqKPRzox_FSzD1l3qzxNzvBPVy20z4MwzjPh1FPwIOT84RO3a_03oBq045q2QuFI29m6gi5xTijVxONlQlTBWMo1muzkrcRo6SWuHxjUFrdOvD6Tw/s400/IMG_1104.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587042993790959330" border="0" /></a><br /><iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/19920587?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0" frameborder="0" height="225" width="400"></iframe><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/19920587">Auburn Goods</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/huckinhuge">Huckin Huge</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.</p>the chargerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02660325895255791759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18292914.post-40219845960111994462010-11-08T21:23:00.000-08:002010-11-09T18:25:01.704-08:00Green Race 2010<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRMH_5iILHFONfmr-meujtty7XJWgukAF5qPnLavrYWz33knosz01uFTNRHnOBqRFH9UU7oI8jTneDS0vB1nj3d_vNpNSxlRvGBVTdoqdCIfuimU_bgoos7J0uGWPK5XIBHHCCXQ/s1600/yeyh"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 186px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRMH_5iILHFONfmr-meujtty7XJWgukAF5qPnLavrYWz33knosz01uFTNRHnOBqRFH9UU7oI8jTneDS0vB1nj3d_vNpNSxlRvGBVTdoqdCIfuimU_bgoos7J0uGWPK5XIBHHCCXQ/s400/yeyh" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537627555947581554" border="0" /></a><br />What a scene. Photo by Shane Benedict.<br /><br />One must love thyself before one can ever try to love anyone else. This may sound selfish; but if, we are not happy and loving within ourselves, how can one ever imagine to inspire the same within another? With that said, I try to do what makes me the most happy. Happiness doesn't come for free. Whether you're a master of the custodial arts, working to pay off your Buick Regal; or a kayaker, stroking through endless flat-water to sculpt that wicked 6 pack for the Given'er Race. Work is a necessary step in the stairway to heaven we are all climbing up.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf1_I1xwWJNh7WUsyaELlIDB30FSGPzfeVbaVZ2r-8Yy4Vuw7RI7i9YBmhRIfKF4m_midpQYt1ew1YSvbGnTe0NnJPvjtk5rZHMUAcHNYkGl5BTqSqvI2ji4plkxMQ64kaSMQzaA/s1600/gorilla"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgf1_I1xwWJNh7WUsyaELlIDB30FSGPzfeVbaVZ2r-8Yy4Vuw7RI7i9YBmhRIfKF4m_midpQYt1ew1YSvbGnTe0NnJPvjtk5rZHMUAcHNYkGl5BTqSqvI2ji4plkxMQ64kaSMQzaA/s400/gorilla" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537441725388565234" border="0" /></a><br />Will Pruett about to Sting the Gorilla. Photo by Shane Benedict.<br /><br />I don't know if every kayaker wants to race the Green, but it sure seems like they should. I'm not a big fan of competition, and find it hard to push myself in hopes of beating a fellow burl-charger. However, I believe, or should I say embrace, the idea that we are all out there to have fun and cheer on each and one another, as we push our physical limits on a stretch of river that is not only beautiful and fun, but also difficult and demanding.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM2iJp83cinMenS5vGglhpRqCzejpKr8TGKGR7yLZwvK4kriHUtVy1IE-T7nk3W2RLoHSMZb8zV5rosWPrbSkBryRf1ND2gMA4_LiGvVyIoBUCDJkDUBUd4SeAdu9mbp4NQbkf5g/s1600/curt"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM2iJp83cinMenS5vGglhpRqCzejpKr8TGKGR7yLZwvK4kriHUtVy1IE-T7nk3W2RLoHSMZb8zV5rosWPrbSkBryRf1ND2gMA4_LiGvVyIoBUCDJkDUBUd4SeAdu9mbp4NQbkf5g/s400/curt" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537451629583827314" border="0" /></a><br />Curt 'Bag' Lamberth getting stylish in Go Left. Photo by Robert Haigh<br /><br />People travel from all over the world to experience the grandeur, excitement, and fun that ensues from kayakers, spectators, and gorillas giving themselves away to a greater sense of oneness that develops from the Green Race. We are all out there to have fun, and in this unifying connection, a great sense of awareness and dare-ness develops that leads to something that is hard to put into words.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAeJAgEOrwD2TgVnKdMNYp4q_Knpf49HJt39G7QrTRLYMzsATr59E9la4lOHNoFihwcSmqiOlRRP4FEtDmr_lCNgNGK_Xjn18tbygaukO6wxxN_dQYk_SQHFkTa9N9Em9Jiu_Ofw/s1600/drew"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAeJAgEOrwD2TgVnKdMNYp4q_Knpf49HJt39G7QrTRLYMzsATr59E9la4lOHNoFihwcSmqiOlRRP4FEtDmr_lCNgNGK_Xjn18tbygaukO6wxxN_dQYk_SQHFkTa9N9Em9Jiu_Ofw/s400/drew" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537453317072342626" border="0" /></a><br />Drew Duval getting angry with the Squirrel. Photo by Lee Timmons.<br /><br />Immersing oneself in the river, we usually feel free and disconnected from the daily external stresses that occur in modern life. The Green Race, on the other hand, actually combines the freedom of paddling with the stress of work and society. You are not only trying to have fun and make it down the river; but also, go fast, stay focused, and avoid eating a stone. Its ironic, how giving away your freedom to go at whatever pace you please, and forcing yourself to go as hard as you can, actually feels refreshing-- especially after you finish the race!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx1c7jCcxcLAXkAf0nuOJesfrLoFZyZLlCsK6UaQqMmwM4dwIUy02W22OlzLp35dPa3gAnvKRQpRDxfS7XT0ZFgqam0xkBaW4N5WSfYGWp1lr3UnGsO9gtVpJ56iSiZR9VOf2uHg/s1600/tmon"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx1c7jCcxcLAXkAf0nuOJesfrLoFZyZLlCsK6UaQqMmwM4dwIUy02W22OlzLp35dPa3gAnvKRQpRDxfS7XT0ZFgqam0xkBaW4N5WSfYGWp1lr3UnGsO9gtVpJ56iSiZR9VOf2uHg/s400/tmon" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537626702683927218" border="0" /></a><br />Taft enjoying the Hungee. Copyright Chris Bell/<a href="http://boatingbeta.com/" target="_blank">boatingbeta.com</a>. Used with permission.<br /><br />I can't imagine a better way to see old friends, meet new ones, charge some righteous swirls, drink some white lightning, and party like its 1999. I hope to make it back for this event of epic proportions every year. It makes me, and what seems like, a thousand other people, really happy; and that, my friends, is what counts in life! This is all I know, and knowing is half the battle.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuCnr6LkUbGBADLcd-ypZcnMtXekpDh-klqbR5c1bBgEIlMCfHz37Nqo-wkA523Er3ZtPt8fwfhgynTGMO_msKrNdrEUlkKC0CekN_JqcsJPYxL7CHZIoLjYpTb4I7XgSWlWAbSw/s1600/murph+an+me"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuCnr6LkUbGBADLcd-ypZcnMtXekpDh-klqbR5c1bBgEIlMCfHz37Nqo-wkA523Er3ZtPt8fwfhgynTGMO_msKrNdrEUlkKC0CekN_JqcsJPYxL7CHZIoLjYpTb4I7XgSWlWAbSw/s400/murph+an+me" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537459002191063986" border="0" /></a><br />Nick Murphy and I enjoying a few post-boating-refreshments. Photo by Shane Benedict<br /><br />Thanks to all the great people who make this race happen, and a special thanks to Charles Armentrout for loaning me his Stinger. Until next time, Charge On!<br /><br />Here is a little post-race Shine action my buddy Gareth Tate documented. <br /><iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/16605275" width="400" height="225" frameborder="0"></iframe><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/16605275">Everybody Shines</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user3362665">7 Finger media</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p>the chargerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02660325895255791759noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18292914.post-35617354893559122652010-08-05T22:12:00.000-07:002010-08-15T19:45:55.300-07:00Middle KingsGreetings fellow Sentient Beings!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHtrYvuUhOz60hQv1Tg9Kl6-i5oLfuOTfDjy025Y_TCS6pKaBkXoHeZQ3FLWcAOe9xsIi1tHi6aky11-upBQvJ5TxOhrPBM_-sr9XISPlRFAe3qOOna0RxAjRoTYZ8rmiH0MmVAg/s1600/beer"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHtrYvuUhOz60hQv1Tg9Kl6-i5oLfuOTfDjy025Y_TCS6pKaBkXoHeZQ3FLWcAOe9xsIi1tHi6aky11-upBQvJ5TxOhrPBM_-sr9XISPlRFAe3qOOna0RxAjRoTYZ8rmiH0MmVAg/s400/beer" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505827681791749634" border="0" /></a><br />The Middle Fork of the Kings river in California is like an old wooden ship, which I believe defines diversity. If you give her respect, proper permission, effort, attention, and admiration; she will reward you with the greatest ride of your life. However, if you neglect these simple principals, she will leave you cold, wet, hungry, hurt, and stranded for Bears to come along and eat your heart out. She is guarded by the towering snowy peaks of the Sierras; so that, one must be strong, willing, and motivated just to catch a glimpse of her majesty. If you so desire to ride her emerald green maelstrom of swirls, waterfalls, and rare pools, come prepared to do battle with yourself, possibly your friends, and most certainly some challenging whitewater!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzb3441EOn2r9wkZqGey72zyP4qt_fY6m7HNb6lXr1aKytxhapQ9s9EwVcZSr66WuYhY7-Qw_opLdVjPdITdvGuNsG78Vky_AtF3wK-BEx5HkFPaclaQ5vQw03nue7SJt1chLylA/s1600/39674_419477941358_565901358_4919558_2666539_n.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzb3441EOn2r9wkZqGey72zyP4qt_fY6m7HNb6lXr1aKytxhapQ9s9EwVcZSr66WuYhY7-Qw_opLdVjPdITdvGuNsG78Vky_AtF3wK-BEx5HkFPaclaQ5vQw03nue7SJt1chLylA/s400/39674_419477941358_565901358_4919558_2666539_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505827683305430546" border="0" /></a><br />What I love about the Middle Kings expedition is its diversity of trials and tribulations you must go through to complete such an epic journey. The trip begins as you use a modern chariot to transport yourself 300 miles across the Sierra Nevada's to Bishop, CA. Drew whipped all 200 or so nimble and fast Subaru horses into action, and we enjoyed the scenic drive through magnificent Yosemite NP. Once at Base Camp, Bishop, be sure to stop by the Ranger station, and speak with an old man at first, but then realize, sooner than later, that he is losing his wits, and must be traded for a much more agile young female ranger, who will give you a free permit to legally gain residency in the Kings castle. Find a local market, and obtain foods that are light, never up tight, and out of sight; as you will need plenty of caloric energy to replenish your weary muscles after long days of battle. You should attempt to rig up some sort of kayak carrying device, but really hope and pray that a wise man will come along and show you the way up and over the 12,000' high Bishop Pass. Drew brought his rather pleasant lady friend Karen and her friend Mary Jane as witnesses to the grandeur in which one must work through to reach the headwaters of the Middle King. They began their ascent earlier than I, and thankfully, Jason Hale, my wise man, celebrated the beginning of our hike with a cold Budweiser.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMSJZGxobUHK99uQFtAsZNH0YG-dqYhHFktSFshtCTu_Wf-UZA-bK8jd_pwfutnqK1wD9Tuu-TAORw0qjZ5dQlYp-RZYRhKDK0WTiae1ja0ozudl7QL9kVHuwJcMJSsREXWTNzHA/s1600/39023_419478616358_565901358_4919612_7275529_n.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMSJZGxobUHK99uQFtAsZNH0YG-dqYhHFktSFshtCTu_Wf-UZA-bK8jd_pwfutnqK1wD9Tuu-TAORw0qjZ5dQlYp-RZYRhKDK0WTiae1ja0ozudl7QL9kVHuwJcMJSsREXWTNzHA/s400/39023_419478616358_565901358_4919612_7275529_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505827701088147986" border="0" /></a><br />The celebration was short-lived, as my so-called kayak backpack rapidly inflicted gross amounts of pain upon my feeble mind and body. After making up to 10 vain attempts to correct the system, the sun was fading quickly in the distance, and I hadn't made much progress. Therefore, I decided to abandon my ship and give word to Mr. Hale that I wouldn't be continuing into The Canyon. Luckily, my wise man, wouldn't take no for an answer and helped fix my spirits, backpack, and energy levels. With a fresh breath of air under my sail, I took off in pursuit of Drew and the ladies. Standing at the base of Bishop Pass is one of the many intimidating sights one sees on the trip; however, with our life-giving sun retiring to the west, our motivation to push on into the cold unknown of the alpine night was lacking. Therefore, the wise Jason suggested we camp below the Pass and get an early start the following day. I concurred, and we set up camp for the night while enjoying a night under our lunar lad. Of course, we didn't wake-up near as early as hoped, but made quick time of the arduous Bishop Pass summit, and re-united with Drew and the crew near Dusy Basin. Trust me, if you've made it this far, don't think its over with, because going down is just as hard as going up with a 100lb turtle shell on your back.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkW4i3OrDo6Qwfrm8X6Jsn3oY0HAtgmf5xIKud3iZSjApCJ18pwReQUxtuW_fAZqq1cGlatA1USoITmEvFw19FVTq54F8ti-WpW7KPvAmgoIFu1gwOw0Ztp0NluZMbsGqQdx5Gyg/s1600/39181_419478086358_565901358_4919570_6873479_n.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkW4i3OrDo6Qwfrm8X6Jsn3oY0HAtgmf5xIKud3iZSjApCJ18pwReQUxtuW_fAZqq1cGlatA1USoITmEvFw19FVTq54F8ti-WpW7KPvAmgoIFu1gwOw0Ztp0NluZMbsGqQdx5Gyg/s400/39181_419478086358_565901358_4919570_6873479_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505827697728877506" border="0" /></a><br />When you finally arrive in Le Conte Canyon where you catch your first sight of his majesty, your muscles are screaming at you to stop, but your mind is telling you to reap the rewards of your hiking, and ride the liquid that will take you through a granite wonderland. Our friend Nathan Klema showed up with a crew of Colorado chargers ready to pilot their crafts down the mighty Middle Kings. After a brief discussion, it was realized that Nate and the crew hadn't spoken with the young lady ranger, and were lacking an important piece of paper. Never fear, the beauty of kayaking is freedom, and with that freedom, we are able to go places where other non-equipped people can't go. So, they took off downstream to reap the rewards of their effort, and we shortly followed suit. Feeling beat down from the energy sapping hike, we didn't venture too far into the Canyon before finding a sweet piece of Granite slab to call home for the night.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnW1Uj-yCGD2Em6Qb1Z2b0XBkVHzQQuW9LdJNE8JJ0DGDv0unSJhqF5bfQiwF6iVScZQ62X0ctZjdwxoPLyw8Br9CZtn0klJv1blrkAknD1PQ7_ZEA9phlfcsAxbwJn4GnJGAyLQ/s1600/home"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnW1Uj-yCGD2Em6Qb1Z2b0XBkVHzQQuW9LdJNE8JJ0DGDv0unSJhqF5bfQiwF6iVScZQ62X0ctZjdwxoPLyw8Br9CZtn0klJv1blrkAknD1PQ7_ZEA9phlfcsAxbwJn4GnJGAyLQ/s400/home" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505831905477569826" border="0" /></a><br />The next day, our CO companions started off the Charge by routing through our camp rapid while we were still cooking breakfast on the fire. I was able to document their swift and courageous paddle strokes, which gave them smooth rides down the tight pinch drop into a nice Disney-esque slide. Stoked on life, we geared up and immersed ourselves in the cold flow of the river-- something that feels so natural to me. Soon, we were eddied out scouting the 7 Rivers Expedition cover shot rapid, which the CO boys fittingly called Squeeze Play. Drew and Hale fired into the 4 foot wide slot that the river comes tumulting through and over a 15' drop. I decided to give Drew the documenting device for once, and he captured me Charging though an amazing gateway to the soul. As we expected, our group of 3, that had all experienced the Kings before, caught the 5 Kings virgin Coloradoans, and respectfully played on through.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOqOtA7TslpsMKLe4EuKQCqqmDhmlcka4Oj7iUzSnxTFgvWytCYVKL8hh3PrwrXZCdQN3BQA3ibvmR0ximd62JVkrp7H_ELYhMLf3gxJw3ZukkBIpeXrCIxXIW8R8yMZnE5pkHYw/s1600/co"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOqOtA7TslpsMKLe4EuKQCqqmDhmlcka4Oj7iUzSnxTFgvWytCYVKL8hh3PrwrXZCdQN3BQA3ibvmR0ximd62JVkrp7H_ELYhMLf3gxJw3ZukkBIpeXrCIxXIW8R8yMZnE5pkHYw/s400/co" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505828551590660242" border="0" /></a><br />At one of our breaks, Drew mentioned to me that if I wanted to be a great filmmaker like Daniel DeLavergne, R.I.P, I was going to have to start running rapids first and blind. His advice took hold, and I proceeded to Charge into the Money Drop and so on to capture Drew and the Wise Man in battle. Giving my Full Throttle attention to His Majesty, I was able to successfully navigate through the Devils Washbowl's, which contains many powerful slides, swirls, and stones. Our energy levels were off the Richter, and soon I found myself in the lead again bombing into rapids I couldn't remember. I tried to catch a weak swirl, but the river swept me away and I was forced to look down the barrel of a big burly rapid and giver her what I had, which was barely enough for the toll, but the Wise Man wasn't so fortunate.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibA52hUK0shjEInsjHn_xkUR1hMsQ7NLouM82RMnOr5-0cYz_lXJY5Wp1F7lZ3Kc7vZG8NMWpWneGUMjMVpF1pkT4F4qR8IESTL0nqbP8XvNXYxt6pL9vsJuS_CCM2Hao2pZzlQw/s1600/hale+waterfall"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibA52hUK0shjEInsjHn_xkUR1hMsQ7NLouM82RMnOr5-0cYz_lXJY5Wp1F7lZ3Kc7vZG8NMWpWneGUMjMVpF1pkT4F4qR8IESTL0nqbP8XvNXYxt6pL9vsJuS_CCM2Hao2pZzlQw/s400/hale+waterfall" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505829737093568194" border="0" /></a><br />I embraced a large stone in the middle of the river after said rapid, and I felt something dislodge me from behind. Jason had followed my irresponsible lead, and as he resurfaced from the drop, his eye made significant contact with the gear laden stern of my boat. The meeting was too abrupt, and forced separation of the skin above the Wise Man's right eyebrow. Hale enthusiastically informed me that my insane bombing techniques aren't exactly 'safe' for the team. A Wise Man is always prepared, and Hale is no exception, which is one of the many awesome reasons I enjoy kayaking with him. He used his Iphone to take a picture of his wound, and being a nurse, diagnosed the cut and guided Drew to repair the damage with his superior med-kit. I took a much needed safety break, and agreed to run sweep to avoid further mad bombing carnage.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk0EvTfKcP6gkEA6fnInAbrse2napY3GDmpSq4dDq29z_kTrHbyr9YX2RPv-F0ZK2-idZ_UgTj465S_qg8_tbNbkNytnAoN_cOj2NE2h3CLBkJFPHzxoC0sPB64FVIz7-RQD0BrQ/s1600/39730_419479021358_565901358_4919640_3081203_n.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk0EvTfKcP6gkEA6fnInAbrse2napY3GDmpSq4dDq29z_kTrHbyr9YX2RPv-F0ZK2-idZ_UgTj465S_qg8_tbNbkNytnAoN_cOj2NE2h3CLBkJFPHzxoC0sPB64FVIz7-RQD0BrQ/s400/39730_419479021358_565901358_4919640_3081203_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505828762227630898" border="0" /></a><br />Soon, we approached what Taylor Cavin has so eloquently dubbed Raw Dogg Falls gorge, which beholds a magnificent 30' waterfall. Unfortunately, Drew's boat didn't want to scout, and took off downstream without its skilled pilot. I jumped in after it, but had to abort the rescue due to the proximity of another rapid. We took off running downstream after the red beast, and caught a glimpse of it Charging over the 30'er. Drew and Hale decided to probe the nooks and crags close to where the incident happened, where as, I began running down the well established trail praying to see red at every opening. After, about a mile or so, I was rewarded with a beautiful glimpse of red plastic wedged ever-so perfectly against the right wall. I thought I was going to die running back in my super warm Kokatat dry suit, but made it back in time to stop Drew from paddling my yellow boat, which he actually owns, in search of his red boat. Hale and I put back in the river and paddled some standard Class V+ Middle Kings Burl in hot pursuit of Drew's boat.<br /><img src="file:///Users/lyric/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/moz-screenshot.png" alt="" /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn2D8YF6qCNrtOKk9KuavqSzEKUC56syscewfrpCgCEIQcFtHbV0Ztd0PlVcnoLTbL1vEAzhcGnG1G6Wy_mQg9ozpGiEBzHATFjuzG38l8FswRMon8Q8BueAevvMMQsEq-RoZ15w/s1600/dd"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn2D8YF6qCNrtOKk9KuavqSzEKUC56syscewfrpCgCEIQcFtHbV0Ztd0PlVcnoLTbL1vEAzhcGnG1G6Wy_mQg9ozpGiEBzHATFjuzG38l8FswRMon8Q8BueAevvMMQsEq-RoZ15w/s400/dd" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505829245519720338" border="0" /></a><br />We carabinered a throw-rope onto Drew's pinned boat and began tugging, but our strength was too much for the grab-loop, and it broke, sending the carabiner directly into Drew's shin. He was a bit disappointed to say the least. However, after Hale and I paddled some more super-scary rapids, we saw Drew re-united with his boat downstream. Come to find out though, that Drew's Watershed dry-bag was missing, containing his precious food, camera, and amenities. Luckily, his dry-bag carrying his sleeping bag and pad were still on board. Without the kayak's skilled pilot, and full of water, the boat came into severe contact with a few hefty stones. These encounters left the boat mangled on the bow and stern, but still sea-worthy.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6czC2iT93JQNFF4UzA0iC6cTZ02cdVKPS_eEadJFYeJKF-l67-9afyNGLbEoLMCUn5zwM-nakcxFfcUI7jSEACeiE-_fg0Yu37wGhZevFWuwGUC04QUeHJHnn7-o-DctqbHFfYw/s1600/BBB"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6czC2iT93JQNFF4UzA0iC6cTZ02cdVKPS_eEadJFYeJKF-l67-9afyNGLbEoLMCUn5zwM-nakcxFfcUI7jSEACeiE-_fg0Yu37wGhZevFWuwGUC04QUeHJHnn7-o-DctqbHFfYw/s400/BBB" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505829473216852162" border="0" /></a><br />The next day, we continued our rapid descent into the section of river that beholds the Big Bad Beaver. We could tell the river-level was definitely on the 'High Side of Good', and upon reaching the BBB, our thoughts were confirmed by a massive stream of white cascading down the perfect granite. We scouted the rapid thoroughly, and discussed possible approaches to running the beast. In the end, the Wise Man was the only one brave enough to run it, and he did so with style. His energy was rampant having completed the largest of the runnable rapids on the Kings, and it is something I want to experience someday. We thought there weren't many more significant rapids below the BBB, but we were wrong, again, as the King never seems to let you put your guard down.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-qAJwaEjyw9DgmnH-68zHULp3y1EsLKQL70cKbPLjsDmpz0WPxjqq2UocexXoxV7niHUpjtyCdiSe1S10Je5jUbK8PciMQJNGZuLwukKI-JuB8DDHKSI2lUqXYugJy0-9-Qes5Q/s1600/teh"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-qAJwaEjyw9DgmnH-68zHULp3y1EsLKQL70cKbPLjsDmpz0WPxjqq2UocexXoxV7niHUpjtyCdiSe1S10Je5jUbK8PciMQJNGZuLwukKI-JuB8DDHKSI2lUqXYugJy0-9-Qes5Q/s400/teh" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505829733088839986" border="0" /></a><br />Finally, we reached the sacred Tehipite Dome camp-site, and were stunned to see a non-kayaker camping at our usual spot. I quickly realized that this man, named Bob Kannen, was a Ranger, and went over to see what he was doing. As most Rangers are, he was very serious and inquisitive into our doings. We explained that our permit was in Drew's lost dry-bag, and so, he wrote down our information to confirm validity of our stay. He was very dissapointed that we didn't have a map, but we tried to explain why we don't need a map, seeing that the only way out is downstream, for us, at least. He took a picture of us, and explained that the Park Service wants to monitor our tirps in there. I guess they want to feel apart of it too. Knowing that our Colorado com-padres didn't have a permit, I hurried upstream to their camp where I informed them of Bob's presence. Once again, they used their freedom to elude a possible confrontation.<br /><br />The bottom 9 miles of the Middle Kings is by far the most continuous stretch of whitewater I have ever paddled. Many of the rapids are simply too crazy too run, and so, you must expend a lot of energy carrying your kayak around and through the maze of boulders, trees, and poison oak that lines the banks. Nonetheless, this is my favorite section of river, as you are able to 'Mad Bomb' many of the sweet boulder-garden style rapids with a firm grip on your black shaft. We made amazing time through this section, having planned to paddle the lower Garlic Falls section the same day.<br /><br />I was tired around noon, when we passed the confluence of the Middle and South Kings rivers, where we planned to take a break. Jason and Drew were way out ahead of me, as I was pleasantly floating along enjoying the spectacular scenery. They didn't even notice the confluence, which doubled the flow, and added a nice warmth to the river. I guess they were still in Charge-mode. Drew, having a leaky boat, got out to drain at the first big rapid of Garlic Falls, but Hale decided to fire right in without having a scout. I followed suit, and saw Jason get back-endered out of a big hole. Luckily, I also went super-deep in the hole, and back-endered my way out too, but enthusiastically motioned for Hale to pull over as I was lacking energy to continue into the next rapid.<br /><br />As usual, Hale did as he pleases, and dropped over into the next rowdy pour-over hole. I looked over my shoulder from the eddy above to see Jason getting pummeled in the swirl. I quickly jumped out with my throw-rope to rescue him from further torture, but he made it out of the hole on his own accord. However, as so many paddlers have also experienced, he hit a stone just as he was attempting a desperate roll, and ended up swimming into the pool he had already floated it into. I laughed at him, seeing that he was alright, only to see Drew getting destroyed in the hole that Hale and I barely made it through. I was already set-up for rescue, but as Drew swam out of the hole upstream, he was swept over to the river-left, where if, I would have thrown him a rope, he would have been pulled into the hole Jason swam out of. Therefore, I just yelled encouragement at Drew to swim for the pool at the bottom with his gear. He wasn't too happy that I didn't throw him a rope, but I took off paddling downstream as he wasn't able reel his boat in himself.<br /><br />I eventually was able to dock Drew's heavy, water-logged, kayak as he made his way downstream on foot. Drew and Hale, having just gotten beat-down, weren't feeling too 'fired up', and so, we played it conservative in the remaining burly big-water of the Garlic Falls. We were surprised to see some rafters down there, scouting a rapid with a typical big hole at the bottom. We walked around it, but one of the rafters, also named Will, Charged in there, and got worked a little bit, but came out fine. I was feeling really good at this point, having completed the majority of the rapids without getting worked. Therefore, I resumed 'Mad Bombing' many of the remaining rapids, also pulling over to let the others take the lead. I Charged into one I couldn't see, and got worked in a big swirl, but after embracing the chaos, I was let free, still connected with my boat.<br /><br />We made it to the take-out sometime in the afternoon, having paddled 19 miles of epic whitewater that day, we were relieved to be off the water. My rock house worked at keeping my cooler full of PBR in the riverbed, but the water had dropped so much that it was no longer submersed. No worries though, the beer was still chill, and we toasted to victory. Cruising out in my 84' Ford Escort diesel, we weren't in luxury, but we were moving along for super-cheap at around 40mpgs with kayaks on top. The 300 mile shuttle is quite an endeavor in itself, and forced us to camp out near Tuolumne Meadows, running out of stamina to push on through the night. We made it full circle, as we were greeted by the beauty of South Lake once again, and parted ways, hoping that this wouldn't be that last time to experience the exhaustion, relief, and satisfaction that comes from finishing a Middle Fork of the Kings 'high-water' expedition.<br /><br />I was able to get some pretty good footage from the trip, and made a little video using music from my friend Omega. All photos were taken by The Wise Man. Check out the video here...<br />http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ns6YjFAGAEI<br /><br />Peace, Love, and :)the chargerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02660325895255791759noreply@blogger.com1