September 2005

It was a great level for Gore, 1050cfs, but cold at the put-in. Not really any colder than it usually is in September, but the wind had picked up and was vicious. I’d guess sustained 15-20mph – upstream of course. It’s not that I’d never seen wind like this funneling up the canyon and making white cap waves on the flat water, but it almost never started before noon. We put on before 10am. 
I was the safety boater for two commercial rafts. As we floated on the endless flat water at the beginning of the day, I did what all good safety boaters do during this time…I tried to find the victim. While the raft guides gave through Safety Talks and instructions on exactly how they wanted the clients to paddle, I floated nearby looking for the guy who just didn’t get it. The guy who looked like he had problems paddling, following instructions, sitting on the boat, etc. The victim. This whole time there was the unrelenting upstream wind, which forced the clients to paddle the entire way in – tiring them out before the game had even begun. At the end of the flat water, all of the clients were required to jump into the water and pull themselves into the boat. This is the final attempt to find the victim. I was feeling really good because all eight of the clients on both boats looked strong and were able to at least pull themselves most of the way into the boat. 
At the end of the first class II/III we got out on the beach and instructed the clients on white water swimming technique. This had already been discussed during the Safety Talk, but we wanted to show them what was meant by “calm water”, eddies and waves. I also gave a short talk about my role as the safety kayaker. The key point I heard at the talk and emphasized personally over and over again was don’t panic. I was still feeling good and everyone looked ready. The one nagging thought I had was that the wind hadn’t stopped. Invariably, the wind stops once you get into the canyon, but it hadn’t. No big deal, we were professionals with good crews.
Alex was a guide with 10+ years experience from back East on the Gauley river. I’d spent the summer guiding with him on Clear Creek. I judged him to be an excellent guide, not only in river skill, but also in his ability to bond with a crew and get the best from them. This to me is what separates the good guides from the really great guides. Good guides can take a group of raft guides with prior training and run hard rivers with them. Great guides can take unskilled clients with backgrounds of enormous variety and meld them together into a cohesive team to run hard rapids. And they can do it within an hour. 
The second guide, Mark, I’d just met the day before while safety boating for his trip. He had good lines the day before and worked in a calm collected manner. I was confident in his abilities because I’ve only ever seen crack guides working for the company on Gore. Furthermore, like me, he was a ski patroller for a large resort in the winter. This meant that his medical knowledge and skills were undoubtedly up to date. 
For my part, I’d been kayaking for 4 years and raft guiding for 5. Four years isn’t a long time to be a kayaker, but I’d put 100+ days on the river for each of those 4 years. I’d safety boated the Pine Creek section of the Arkansas many times and felt comfortable in my abilities. The 26th was my 14th trip down Gore that season at 1050 cfs or above. I had previously taken a swift water certification course and I felt confident and fairly experienced. I was also an EMT-B and in nursing school at the time. Furthermore, I had just finished my first season as a ski patroller, where I got to deal with lots of trauma. We had a good crew that day.
Applesauce went smooth for all parties and I was feeling good so I caught the wave just below to please the crowd. The rafts portaged Gore rapid while I ran the sneak. Scissors and Pyrite were clean and uneventful. As we pulled into Tunnel, I was absolutely amazed that the wind had still been howling the entire trip. This can make Tunnel trickier because all of the waves before the lip throw spray into the air when it’s windy. That wind blown spray turns the conditions into whiteout for the guide. Also, the objective of Tunnel is to get off the lip with as much speed as possible and the wind can make that task much more difficult in a raft. Finally, as often happens at Tunnel, the sun was shining directly on the lip of the drop, but a high cliff kept it from shining upstream of the lip. This means that right at the critical moment, your eyes are dilating and making it hard to perceive distance. I’d run Tunnel during these exact circumstances before, but you always hope for the clear day.
The guests went up to the lip of Tunnel and watched me run it. After a discussion of the line and its dangers with their guides, they all decided that they wanted to drop it. I was up on the seal launch rock as Alex dropped in. Right at the lip, the wind caught his boat and stalled it so that when they went over, the raft was near vertical and completely disappeared into the maw. Alex and one of the guests from the back were violently ejected from the rear out the front of the raft. Since they both surfaced in the current, I launched and escorted them back to river right. After I climbed back onto the rock, Mark’s boat dropped off the lip. He managed to have a little more speed and grabbed both sides of the perimeter line to keep from being ejected. Toilet Bowl was uneventful even though I was scared with the wind and we pulled onto the beach above Kirshbaum’s for a break. We took a good break and explained the next rapid to the guests. 
Kirshbaum proper was also uneventful and both guides managed to thread the Goal Posts beautifully. During the run-out to da Bomb is a move referred to as Crack-of-Dawn. It’s the two large rocks on the river right side of the shallow run-out. At this point it was still extremely windy. Mark made it past the boulders by making the move to the left. Alex followed, but either his crew wasn’t together or the wind was too strong. He didn’t get around and hit the boulder that is more upstream and mid-river. Often times when a raft hits a rock, it slowly rides up and then rolls over. Not this time. The raft flipped lightening quick without a pause. I immediately paddled over to the most downstream client and started yelling, “Swim towards me, swim, swim!” He wanted to grab my boat, but he was swimming well so I just had him follow me to the river left. He hit a small pour-over rock with little water and managed to grab it and get on. I told him to stay there and took off toward the next client who had just passed us. 
This client was following us to river left, but he had given up. He had hit a lot of shallow rocks, had some blood trickling down his forehead, and had swallowed a lot of water. He was just floating and appeared extremely disoriented. I paddled over to him and said, “Grab the back!” With what appeared to be his last bit of energy he took one stroke and grabbed my stern loop. I started screaming, “Kick, kick, kick,” and pulled him to shore. While pulling him to shore, I noticed that there was a yellow helmet downstream of me, which meant that there must be another guest who was not swimming. When we got to a deep eddy on river right, I yelled, “Let go, get on shore, I gotta go!” He took a few seconds to get oriented and let go, so I yelled again, “Let Go! I’ve gotta go!”
I peeled out of the eddy and quickly caught up to the other guest. This third guest was floating in the current about 10 feet from the right bank and was right next to the raft, which was just to the river left of him. I could see Alex was downstream and at the midline of the raft. The client had sunglasses and a helmet on, so it was hard for me to see any facial expressions even though I was only a few feet away. I started yelling at him to let go of the raft and swim for shore. It can be tough to climb into a raft, especially if you’re tired and haven’t done it a thousand times so I thought it would be easier to swim the ten feet to shore. Right then the raft bumped him and he rolled over face down in the water. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything as spooky as watching someone float face down in water without trying to roll himself over. 
My first thought was that he was unconscious. That sounds stupid on paper now, but it got the gears in my head and adrenaline in my muscles cranking. My second thought was, “He’s dead.” I don’t mean that like I was giving up on him as dead, but rather I thought at that moment he had a 10% chance of making it to the take-out alive. 
Some people call me a pessimist or negative. I feel that my thought process isn’t negative. Rather I think about all the worst shit that can happen and then think backwards about how I’m going to fix it. That’s the difference between pessimism or negativity and me – I’m going to fix it. 
Of course, those two thoughts happened before I even took my first paddle stroke towards him, which was immediate. It only took me two or three strokes to reach him when I saw him roll over. Alex also saw him roll over and screamed, “Joe!” Alex then abandoned the raft and swam to the guest. I just barely beat Alex to the guest and rolled him over. I then grabbed my rescue tether and clipped the top buckle on his life jacket. I drug him to shore with about 5 strokes. I then jumped out of my boat on the bank. We weren’t really in an eddy and I accidentally got the boat between the client and me. I didn’t want to loose my boat because it had my first-aid kit in it. The client was still in the current and his weight was nearly dragging me back out into the river. Alex helped me get untangled from the boat and pull the client up onto the rocks. At this point I discovered that the client was probably around 275 pounds. Alex gave three long blows on his whistle to alert anyone around that we had a life-threatening emergency. The flattest spot that we could access with this client was a rock that had a flat surface angled about 45 degrees back into the river. The flat surface of the rock was about 2 feet wide and 3 feet long. Not an ideal CPR surface. Also, the unconscious guest was still in the river below his hips. It was the best we had and he needed oxygen. At this point Alex and I are also breathing hard and fatigued. 
My next thought was, “This guy is completely gray and limp – he’s definitely dead.” Then, I thought, “ABC.” My EMT instructor told me that when shit hits the fan, you need to be trained to the point where you don’t think. Your hands just start moving through the motions that they’ve done on dummies a million times. Hands have amazing little brains of their own, kinda like other parts of the male anatomy. From ABC on out, my brain shut off and my hands just did everything that they’d been trained to do. 
ABC is taught in every one of the 10 CPR classes I’ve taken. I would like to make the point that if you don’t know what ABC stands for then you shouldn’t be a kayaker or raft guide. Airway, Breathing, Circulation. Alex gave two mouth-to-mouth breaths. I told him that I had a CPR mask in my boat and he should get it. I used the time to see how the patient’s head was positioned. It was hanging a little bit off the back of the rock, which was good because that position brings the tongue off the back of the throat. Alex handed me the mask and I gave another two breaths through it. I couldn’t see his chest rise, so we unbuckled his life jacket. I gave two more breaths. I felt like they were going in, but still couldn’t see his chest rise so I told Alex to put his hand on the patient’s chest to see if he could feel the chest rise. I then gave two more breaths. They were going in – the patient had an airway and artificial breaths. We move to Circulation. I couldn’t get a corotid pulse in the patient’s neck. Alex couldn’t get a radial pulse in the patient’s wrist. We tried both locations for about 30 seconds while giving breaths and couldn’t get one. His capillary refill in his finger nail beds was slow – definitely longer than the normal 2 seconds.
I felt like the patient had a pulse. I had no reason to think that, it was just a gut feeling. Still, without being able to obtain one, I told Alex to start compressions. Alex put his hands on the lower sternum and began compressions. Alex did two sets of compressions and I gave two breaths between them. 

As a side note, recently in nursing school I learned that CPR is effective at reviving people between 13-30% - in the hospital with cardiac drugs, defibrillation, and professionals who have spent years perfecting technique on real patients. Our patient was near hypothermic, on a small rock, and in the wilderness many hours from a hospital or even ambulance. We did have one thing on our side. In the hospital most patients die of cardiac arrest at old age or severely decreased general health. Our patient appeared to be unconscious and not breathing due to near drowning. This meant that his heart and body were in good shape to restart if we could keep the blood flowing and oxygen in his lungs. Boaters remember that – lightening and near drowning victims stand a good chance of resuscitation.  
After the second set of compressions, the patient started moving. Not conscious or purposeful moving, but his fingers were contracting a little and his lips started to slowly move. This was good because people without a pulse don’t move. We stopped compressions. The patient was still not breathing. I continued giving breaths at about 1 every 5 seconds. This continued for about 3-4 minutes. Meanwhile the client that had held my boat while I pulled him to shore arrived on scene. We were yelling at the patient to start breathing. I pinched his hand hard to see if he was responsive to pain. We couldn’t give a sternal rub because we didn’t want to take his wet suit off. I checked for a carotid pulse again, but couldn’t get one. The client who arrived told me the patient’s name was Dave, but I heard Dennis and started cheering for Dennis to breathe. The client corrected me and again said Dave. Finally, Dave started breathing after we gave him breaths for about 3-4 minutes. He started salivating at the mouth, so I put on latex gloves from my kit and tried to take some of the spit from his mouth without reaching between his teeth.  
Dave was breathing fast and shallow at about 26-30 breaths per minute. I supplemented with a couple of deep breaths every minute. I looked at my watch – 2:36pm. Mark and the clients on his raft arrived on scene after rescuing the other two clients off the rocks they ended up on. I asked one of the clients to push hard on all of Dave’s limbs to see if they could feel any broken bones. I also asked him to look for any blood. He found neither. With the added help we placed my upside down kayak as level as we could get it and moved Dave onto it. Mark then took a crew in his raft to the other side of the river where the flipped raft had miraculously pinned. He towed it back to us. We deflated the thwarts on the raft and placed Dave in the middle after buckling his life jacket back on. I wanted a backboard, but we didn’t really have anything that would have been safe to strap Dave to. If the raft flipped or pinned again and Dave was strapped to something he most likely would have died. Me holding his neck in a neutral inline position would have to do. After Mark gave a short pep talk to two of the clients, Alex pushed us off and guided while the two clients paddled. I sat in the raft and supplemented Dave’s breaths, tried to get a pulse and routinely checked his capillary refill, which remained slow.  
Thankfully, we were near the end of the canyon, with one easy class III to go. I covered Dave’s mouth with my hand several times to prevent waves from washing in. It is also unreal how bad someone’s breath is once they’ve died and been resuscitated. The upstream wind was still brutal and probably doubled the time that it would have taken to paddle out. The two clients were completely exhausted and barely able to put in a stroke by the time we made it to the takeout. During the ride out, Dave started screaming in agony. The screams were not in response to anything and he still was not responsive to painful stimuli initiated by me. His breaths remained fast and shallow at about 24. I still was unable to get a pulse, so I remained counting breaths, cheering on the crew, and holding Dave’s head inline.
While we were paddling out, Mark and crew cleaned up the scene. They grabbed my paddle, kayak, and helmet, which was full face and had to be removed to perform CPR. A group of kayakers caught up to Mark and at the lead was a hand paddler named Ed. Mark gave him my paddle and asked him to paddle out and call 911. Ed passed us and beat us out by about 5 minutes.
We arrived at the takeout at 3:30, just a few minutes ahead of Mark (he had a crew of 7 now). Both of the guides ran to the upper parking lot to send someone to call 911 and get the van. I remained in the raft on the beach with Dave. Just then Dave opened his eyes slowly and I asked, “Do you know where you are?” He slowly rasped, “Fuck no.” Inside my head I started jumping for joy. One of the other clients asked me how they could help and I told them that I needed a backboard or anything long, flat and hard. I also asked for a pen and paper. After a few moments, one of the clients, who was a ski patrol buddy of Mark’s, came running down to the beach with a tailgate from a pick-up truck. He had just jacked it from a random truck in the lot. I thought to myself, “Damn fine work.”
Alex pulled up with Mark in the van. Some of the clients began stripping the van of its seats, while others helped Mark, Alex, and I move and strap Dave onto the tailgate with cam straps. We then moved Dave into the van and took off with the clients who knew him and Alex driving. I wanted to head toward Vail because it was the nearest hospital, but Alex was sure that they were sending an ambulance from Kremmling. I agreed then that we should head toward the ambulance because Dave needed a helicopter anyway. During the drive, Dave became more alert, but was still thoroughly confused and requested that we stop many times. He also said he was going to puke, which was scary because I didn’t want to turn his neck in case he had a spinal injury. With our limited space in the van we couldn’t roll the whole tailgate to help him puke either.  
We met the ambulance at the top of the hill just before the 20mph turn. I gave report to the paramedic and one of the clients handed him a sheet with a SAMPLE history and all the vitals we had collected. As I was holding Dave’s head, I helped the ambulance EMT put a C-collar on Dave and cut off his life jacket with the trauma shears. The team then moved Dave off the tailgate and onto the ambulance bed and a backboard. Dave again said he was going to puke and this time he did, but we managed to roll him onto his side. He puked all over my legs. Finally, we loaded him into the back of the ambulance. The medic asked if I was sure that Dave was pulse-less and I replied no, but I was sure that he was apnic. In the ambulance, the EMT primed a bag, the medic stuck his antecubital vein and I applied spider straps to the backboard. The paramedic told me that the chopper was 15 minutes out. I got out of the ambulance and had people start closing the road so the chopper could land. A few minutes later several other emergency services personal arrived along with several law enforcement cars. They closed the road a mile down because it was a better LZ and the ambulance took Dave there. It was approximately 5:30.  
That night, while we had a stress de-briefing, Alex got a call from someone at the hospital saying that Dave was alert and telling jokes in the ER. I had lunch with Dave and his girl friend six days later. He was tired, sore and shaken up, but walking, smiling, and his color and breath were much better since we’d last seen each other.



Several things worked out just perfectly to keep Dave alive. We were at the end of the canyon. I had a rescue vest and CPR mask. The flipped raft pinned without a guide and without washing downstream of us. All of the clients and guides remained extremely calm. Mark’s scene command was extraordinary.  
Another aside. In the extreme high water year of 1995, 20+ people died in the class III Brown’s canyon – the most commercially run stretch in the country. However, since Brown’s is only class III, it attracts older and less fit clients. When they fall in the freezing waters, they generally panic, which drives their blood pressure and heart rate to extreme levels that their unfit heart can’t handle. A heart attack ensues. These people have little chance of resuscitation. Dave survived because he was relatively in shape. My guess was that he weighed 270lbs, but he was about 6’5” and a firefighter. I think he simply swallowed too much water. He was definitely conscious while swimming – Alex had a conversation with him while Dave was swimming and Alex was flipping over the flipped raft. It appears to me that Dave’s heart never quit, he simply panicked, swallowed too much water, had a lyringospasm and became unconscious from not being able to breathe. Remember, kids, lightening victims, and near drowning victims have excellent chances at being resuscitated. Not true for heart attack victims, especially without a defibrillator.  

Several things could have happened better. This is not to say that I don’t think our response was excellent. I think we did an awesome job with the tools and situation we had presented. It could have been better with a few more tools. I think that raft companies ought to carry oralpharangeal airways (OPA) and nasalpharangeal airways (NPA) in their sweep kits. The kits could also carry a C-collar that we could have used. I believe that most companies don’t have these in their kits because extreme trauma and even near drownings are relatively rare. Furthermore, these things can be expensive, especially for raft companies operating on narrow margins.  
We needed a backboard on scene. Backboards are available after rapids on many heavily rafted rivers and Gore is starting to find its way into that category. The outfitters and government should agree upon where to put them and who should pay for them. At the very least there should be one available at the take out.  
A satellite phone would have been an awesome asset, especially because if the incident had occurred anywhere above Kirshbaum’s we would have most likely been out after dark. Cost is most likely prohibitive, however. 
It would have been awesome if raft companies had a written, pre-planned arrangement with Flight for Life. We should collect GPS information for possible LZs. Even without a sat phone, it would be easy to have one member of the party paddle out and call the helicopter without moving the patient if we had pre-identified LZs.
Finally, it was an important fact that the guests did not do a second swim through the first class III. I think that we made the right call that day. If they had done the swim, they would have been near hypothermic before even getting into the canyon. This would have decreased their paddling abilities and mental capacities, thereby making dangerous incidents more prone to happening.  
However, the company could have provided the clients with added layers. The guides did have some added layers and offered them routinely, but not enough for everyone if they had been put through a second swim. With the unrelenting upstream wind, it was simply too cold to run the canyon that day. This could not have been predicted because I judged the ambient temperature as reported by weather services to be adequate. I would have guessed 65-70 degrees. It was simply the localized, unexpected, unpredictable heavy upstream wind that continued throughout the entire run. 
The names have been changed…..


As I remember it: Joe Keck, 10/10/05

RIP

Good friends we've had, good friends we've lost along the way.  Thinking about deaths on the river definitely gives me pause.  But I also have a friend who's 55 year old mother was just diagnosed with stage IV ovarian cancer.  None of us get out of this adventure alive - I'm just trying to do the best with the time that I have.  I love all you guys!

Close people lost:

Sam Grafton
Xavier Engle
Ladi Svarc
Derk Slottow
Adam Barron
Jeff West
Shannon Christy

Adam Mayo

Matthew Ray

Chason Russell

And lots more that were dear friends of friends.  I don't have much more to say, I was just thinking about these guys and thought I'd throw their names up in remembrance.

Evan's Kokatat Post

The Hall Pass (urbandictionary.com) - permission given to go out with the guys (instead of fulfilling either girlfriend or wife duties/obligations/quality time, etc). The Hall Pass can come in half-day, full-day or even hourly increments (editors note: or apparently weeks in this case, man my wife is the greatest eh!). It is something to be prized, cherished and used judiciously for it is not an easy thing to obtain. It can only be obtained by verbal (or written) consent from said girlfriend or wife.

The ever so smooth Macy Burnham, Ashlu Box, Engagement

Indecision is the key to flexibility one of my kayaking mentors once told me. I was only 22 and I only instinctively understood what he was saying. The words made sense but I hadn’t lived their true meaning. Now though, now that I’m married and have kids and responsibilities beyond pursuing my latest kayaking fantasy, at least with regards to paddling trips, I live by his precious words of wisdom.

Evan on #2 of the most perfect triple drop possibly in the world, Rogers Creek

Rivers are wild unpredictable beasts whose characteristics depend on a combination of nature’s complex whims. Rain, snow, sun, wind and fire can all play a roll in determining which rivers are “in,” and of course which rivers are “out,” at any moment in time. This fact makes paddling trips nearly impossible to plan. The problem is, when you’ve got these “adult” responsibilities, planning paddling trips is the name of the game. My trick though is to be decisive about putting some dates on the calendar and indecisive about where to go on those days. I just know I’m going paddling. It’s a hark back to the days of following the water wherever it was in, yet it still satisfy’s the fatherly duties since it only takes place where pre-ordained and agreed upon windows have opened up.

Evan In Kernage, Ashlu Box

In this particular instance my beautiful and gracious wife put the dates on the calendar for me. Taking the kids home to DC, with a line and an arrow marking off August 1 – 9. So it was with this hall pass that I was to get a kind of last hurrah to the 2013 summer paddling season, and yes it has to be defined as such to allow for the Fall 2013 and Winter 2013 paddling seasons to also receive celebrated last hurrah trips (youngsters, you taking notes here?). Anyway, in an average year this would have been the perfect timing for a trip to the Clarks Fork Boxand maybe a swing up through Idaho for some North Fork Payette, and then to hit up whatever else was happening in between.

Joe Keck in the first of the Triple Drop, Rogers Creek

This however was not quite an average year, with below average snowpack and precipitation across most of the Rockies and the Sierra’s. Basically the entire Western US was stuck in a drought cycle and come August things were looking to be mighty low everywhere. Time to figure out a new plan and I was craving a little more adventure than the North Fork, the roadside classic that still did happen to be running pretty good could provide. It just didn’t fulfill the needs of the week long hall pass, because remember, it’s something to be prized, cherished, and used judiciously. I wanted to get deep into a gorge, somewhere you aren’t going without your kayak.

Austin Woody, where we wanted to be, deep in a gorge, a place you definitely don't want to be without your kayak

Sometimes this indecisiveness can get the better of even the best of us and the countdown had gotten to five days before the wife and kids we’re departing with still no firm plan. The key though, the wheels we’re in motion. The ingredients were coming into place: some partners in crime, the gear, a ride, and of course a river, or rivers, that were in. By Tuesday I had a plane ticket to Seattle, with a ride to British Columbia and some boats waiting for us to pick up in Bellingham along the way. We left Thursday and all that indecisiveness led to a pretty sweet mission if I don’t say so myself. Check the photos and decide for yourself. Cheers - Kokatat Ambassador Evan Stafford

BC eh!

Beauties, bootie beers, boofs and bros - the SE Wrap-up

It's been one hellva great year and change.  True, I didn't complete my Southeast tick-list, but a lot of it got ticked.  And I still have a CO tick-list after 13 years of boating.  I guess I just never will get enough paddling done.  Well, I just wanted to post some of my favorite shots from the year and give a shout to the homies who made it awesome:

I gotta start with one of my OGs, Eric.  He was one of my original paddling partners from my first days.  Day one of his paddling career started off in Cataract Canyon where we told him that if he could knock-out 100 rolls in the four days of flat water, then he might survive the class IV rapids.  He made it without a swim!  His triumphant return to the Southeast from CO occurred right in the middle of my time here and it was a blessing to get out and charge with him again!

Eric toobin the Green!

Early on, I spent a lot of time scoping the Green putin for potential paddling partners.  I was lucky enough to find Katie in need as well one sunny day.  Her and Zac will make the next generation of River Gypsies.

Katie likes it Horsey-style

Speaking of the Gypsies, Leland and Andria are still living large.  It is so much fun to see what a life-long paddling career looks like.  Thanks for introducing me to the joys of Fall Dam Boating - I'm addicted.

Leland is still Climaxing

After my soft year in Texas, Jim Janney was so kind to help me back in hard-man's class V. It is hard to catch a good photo of him not because he doesn't fire huge, but rather because he's always rallying off to fast to focus the camera.  I still need more of the West Prong and Raven Fork, so I hope to find myself at his house in the rain again soon.

Jim: N. Chick

This year I was able to wet the appetite of my very favorite River Betty.  Her shuttling skills, while not quite professional like Justin's wife Lori, have become polished.  She's also paddled down the Gauley a handful of times and lit up Bayless' Boof.  Her tick list includes the forks of the Salmon, Rogue and Deschutes.  

Jess representing for the CO 

The 'rado boys showed up to the party as well.  Alex Clayton was first, but we took all the shots with his camera, so I don't have any.  Justin convinced Lori that they should 'vacation' in the SE this fall:

Justin redeeming his frequent flier miles

My other boys rolled out for Gauley season.  Joel just couldn't miss the Green while I was SE livin' and Mother Green didn't disappoint.  We got a spectacular 200% day and Joel got the joy of just rolling Hammer Factor - blind.  "You only get one shot to run it blind" - DD

Damn fine Mank Crew!

One amazing aspect of paddling in the Southeast is the quantity of stellar kayakers.  Meeting big names in the kayaking industry just requires showing up at the putin.  If you want to paddle with them, just pick up the phone and ask.  Toby MacDermontt started by bumming shuttles from me, but by the end he'd shown me the Linville, Horsepasture, and a 200% Gorilla.

Babelling

Having all of these phenomenal paddlers around also really opens your eyes to exactly what is possible in kayaking.  I watched Pat fire up a new line on Oceana, tail squirt the Triple Crown in pitch blackness, and launch a monster monkey boof backwards while 'racing' the Green.  Dane rock spun the left line at Sunshine.  Lil' A charges so hard that it's nearly impossible to keep up.  I'm just here trying to make the 'classic' class V lines look good.

I've got this shot of Pat at 1am as well.  It was a little to dark to post.

Snowy is the all-around funniest guy I met.  Who'd have thought that a Brit would know the best Mexican food in the Southeast?

Lil' A fighting Gravity

I met Scott Peaches while he was crankin' his Masters in Fort Collins.  He then moved to Disgusta, GA for med school and I followed for my program.  We were able to get out and get the charge!

Pinballin' around the nation

And in the end, there was the Green Race.  It is one of those pieces of paddling lore that I just had to play a part, even if minute.  You can catch the Huckin' Duckie Cape in its full glory here at 3:50 (filmed by Pilot Collective Media).

Cheers to all you boofers out there!  Looking forward to sharing an eddy with you soon!  The Mank Crew over-n-out to the Pacific Northwest via Kiwi land!

True to the 'hood

Git the Buzz on!

It has been a rough year to be a Colorado kayaker.  I know. I was there back in 2001 or was it 2002?  I'm still trying to block it out of my memory.  Yet, I'm still heartened to see on the Buzz that people got out and crushed it anyway.

So this post is going to be for those of you who may have forgotten, just a touch, about how unbelievable kayaking is.

Remember the first time you stuck the hell out of a scary rapid or big trick?  John Pilson explains the physiology:

Nailing the left boof at Double Trouble gets me every time.

The Buzz is unreal.  Sometimes after a big day on the river, I'll be driving home just jittery with excitement.  I just can't wait to get back on the water.  Rapid lines will day-dream through my head all week.

Motivation can be lacking.  The Green is 3 hours from my house and the closest goods I've got.  But I have never regretted a single day on the river.  I wrote that last sentence on this very blog, years ago and it has held true every river day since (although I don't know if my wife would agree?).  Speaking of my wife, she has notices every week whether I've been kayaking or not.  I am more upbeat, positive and generally excited about all things when boatin' is part of my weekly routine.

What else can I say?  Some people like kayaking.  Joe looooves kayaking!

Enough of that sappy BS.  What you all need is some stoke to get you talking about your winter paddling trips!!!!  How about this shot of the original doublet, as in The Toby, finishing off Staircase on the Horsepasture:

I think you can call this a Grip of Waterfalls

Everyone in the kayaking community is discussing the treatment of our ladies.  Well, here are some photos of ladies laying Treats!

Lil A' slaying you Marginal Monsters

Taken on the class V Horsepasture... does it get any better?  Katie D

Shannon following Toby down the Stairway to Heaven

Some have suggested that I might be able to take the ladies division this year at the Green Race, which is a compete fallacy.  I couldn't beat her if I was in front of a Duo with her steering in the back.

Gravity cravin'

The prettiest Janney getting out of the Drunk Tank

And there you have it.  Some killer chicks from the SE!

'I love kayaking!!!!'

Rainbow Falls

If I'm gonna post photos of kayaking chicas, I better post shots of their husbands golden stroking:

Zac

Now, as you all know by now, any blog post originating in the Southeast must include gratuitous photos of the Grandaddy Green.  Has anyone ever told you that this diamond gemstone runs 300 days/year?  Get out here EVAN STAFFORD!!!!  I'm starting to consider the very real possibility that Evan's nerves have gotten the better of him?

A little 2hunge flow just Left of Death

Our boy Justin caught the plane flight:

That looks like an awkward feeling on the way to a first Triple Crown.  (Justin Merritt)

Parting Shot:

Justin riding the lightening!

Fallen friends

A few thoughts from Jeff West, fallen brother on a solo mission in the Grand Canyon of the Stikine...

REFLETIONS ON OUR LOSSES

Many paddlers speak of the tragic deaths that have occurred in whitewater. For many of us these accidents are too close. They have occurred on rivers we have paddled, on rapids we have run, and to paddlers more skilled than us. Although most people see these fallen paddlers as tragic, I see them as my heroes.
As we all know there are inherent dangers involved with kayaking. The likelihood of fatal accidents occurring on Class IV+ is something we have been forced to acknowledge. Nature has shown that death is a possibility in our sport. Knowing of the deaths that have occurred and realizing that more will follow, my views on this have changed. Although most see tragedy, I see the ultimate gift. We try to ignore it but the possibility of drowning while paddling tough whitewater exists. Nature dictates that some must fall. The deaths have proven to be random. My friends who have given their lives have all been highly skilled. My nightmares have been realized. No one wants to die while kayaking, but unfortunately some have and some will. I now see those who have perished as my heroes. They paid the ultimate price for what we all love. We are so lucky to be able to paddle challenging and difficult whitewater.

I never thought it would happen to my friends, ones so skilled and competent, but it has. It is as simple as this: these deaths allow us to paddle another day. Nature requires a toll for allowing us to paddle these incredible rivers. The majority of us will only pay with an occasional cut or bruise, some pay with the sadness of the loss of a friend, some pay with their lives. This allows the rest of us to live incredible experiences, cherish wonderful memories, and look forward to paddling days ahead. Someone once told me they thought it was ridiculous to be prepared to lose your life while kayaking tough whitewater. I don’t see how anyone can afford to not recognize this possibility.
I remember my friends who have died almost every day. I try to honor them with my paddling. I recognize the sacrifice they made. I thank them for their gift everyday.

‎"It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by the dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions and spends himself in a worthy course; who at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who, at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly; so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory or defeat." Teddy Roosevelt

A letter from Jeff to a student:

“There is nothing easy about this sport. It forces you to grow and learn. Most people spend their lives completely removed from the natural world. They only see it through their eyes. Kayaking allows you to actually participate in the wonders of nature. It is scary at first and nature will always demand your respect.

You never had fear before because you never truly experienced nature. You have spent a lifetime looking at it from a boat or raft or car. Rafting is superficial and is barely more than driving a car on a dirt road. Kayaking allows you the opportunity to actually participate in it. Your new found fears are a natural part of the awakening process.”