Farewell 2011

All 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.

Meet Mike Peacher, he's a whitewater assassin. Lead him to the burl, and he will charge.

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.

Committing to the canyon at Milsap Bar, later than hoped, as usual.

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.

It channelizes well, making it feel somewhat pushy, even at meager flow.

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.

The eye of Bald Rock looks on.

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!

Squeezing through, like mustard out of a bottle.

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.

Finding the path.

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.

Living on the edge, quite literally.

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.

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.

Here, Peacher examines the ultra-burly final falls.

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.

Floating down a perfect ramp of the earth, Mike Peacher enjoys the Curtain.

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.

As you can see, it was still pretty exciting in there.

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.

It was tight.

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?

Bald Rock.

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.

Leaving our trace.

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.

Its always worth it, no matter what happens in the end.

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!

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!

Connoisseur's Run

Cane Creek into North Chickamauga.

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. 

Team Jib OGs- Bryce Evans, Ryan Eichorn, Jason Arnold, and Brian Knight at the put-in.

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. 

Here is David from the NE entering the Vortex.

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'! 

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. 

Nick Murphy, hot off his Chile charge, mobbed the main line of N. Chick falls.

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.

Bett Adams executes a textbook boof. 

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. 

Mary Katherine driving her Nomad like a champion. 

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! 

Blessing

Bear 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.

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.

The creek starts off with some low-angle, bedrock, slides that are perfect for warming up.

The sandstone geology of Lookout Mtn. reminds me that I'm home. Overhanging rocks are common here.

The only portage of the day, simply because there wasn't enough water to take the 'normal' sneak line down Surrealistic Pillow.

Crisler styles the left line at Fishbowl. It didn't take much convincing for him to mob in.

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.

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.

Even with a sinking ship, Crisler knows how to make himself sail over rocks in Big Bang. Its more than just a theory.

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.

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.

The birthday boy unwraps a stylish cross bow draw to set him up perfect for Momentary Lapse of Reason.

Bear master Bryce Evans getting parallel through Armageddon.

Taylor Martin does the limbo under a common threat.

And again, avoiding the aggressive Tree Bass that has infiltrated our blessed stream-bed.

Charlie Mix propels his rhasta colored Villain through a maze of stones.

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.

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.

Current

Rivers 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.

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'.

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.

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.

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'.

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?

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.

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.

Best in the West

Howdy Ya'll!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!