Week 7 "Rafting, Riverrock and Road Trips!" plus "Errol Conquers Conception Part I"

“In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit."

~Albert Schweitzer~ 

   Week 7 on The Island started off with a great high water weekend that was put to good use.  On Saturday I was able to catch up with my friend Prado, and catch a lap around eleven and a half feet with him.  I like paddling with Prado because he is fast, conservative, and safe, plus he is a good guy.  He wanted to see The Island, so we bombed down to Hollywood, gave a quick scout after hearing that a log jam had formed in Stripper, then cruised through Hollywood, which is a fun rapid at high water.  The line stays the same, but everything around you gets bigger.  After Hollywood, we made our way to The Island and then to the Southside takeout.  It was good to catch up with Prado and get a full lap in at a good water level.  He approved of The Island.
   Sunday brought about a rare occurrence.  First off, I was guiding a raft, something I hadn't braved since last year.  Second, the level was 9 feet, a perfect level for rafting.  I was meeting up with my childhood friend Hauserman, who I had not seen in a long time.  He was bringing along one of his buddies, and the guys last name was Moneymaker, so I figured he must be legit.  We were rafting the entire stretch of whitewater, from Pony Pasture all the way to The Island.  For being as green as they were, Hauserman and Moneymaker both styled the river and made Hollywood look easy.  (It was the guide!)  Nah, they both did well and it was good to get them out to The Island and get some big water rafting in.  Come back anytime fella's, only next time it's in a kayak.  
   Week 7 on the island was a blur of bouncing between re-entering modern society and struggling to stay focused on avoiding.....well, modern society.  I was screwed.  The good thing was my job seemed to be going well, and I was getting to see and participate in some really cool stuff, like the set-up for Riverrock.  Every year Venture and Sportsbackers host the best outdoor festival in the country, on Browns Island.  Setting up includes watching the rock walls and stages being built, bike ramps going up, athletes and sponsors arriving throughout the week, and all kinds of cool little vendors; like Goal Zero, a company that manufactures light weight solar panels for backpacking.  Thanks to them I am now able to get battery, cell phone, and IPad power on the island through solar power, and the panels and power unit are the size of a notebook and weigh almost nothing.  It's pretty sweet!

"An early-morning walk is a blessing for the whole day."
~Henry David Thoreau~ 


   My favorite part of everyday now is in the morning.  I naturally wake up early on The Island, and not knowing what time it is, paddle to the Northside, run Pipeline at sunrise, and then walk up the Canal Walk to my car at Tredagar Parking lot.  The paddle and the walk are always peaceful, and I love walking across Brown's Island early in the morning before anyone is there.  It reminds me of growing up on Stonehenge Golf Course and walking home from a friends house early in the morning before my parents woke up.  Being able to experience the James everyday like this is a gift, and it is what reminds me that I am doing the right thing by living on the island.  Walking across Brown's Island on Thursday morning before Riverrock was a cool experience.  

  On Thursday afternoon, after work, I attempted to help Lugbill get the slalom course for boatercross set up, but a monster thunderstorm blew in from the west and came up on us very fast.  There was a strong wind ahead of the storm, and it blew a dust cloud high up into the sky.  When the front approached the river, the wind gusts must have topped fifty miles per hour.  I was sitting on the edge of Tredegar Pool, just above X's, watching the wind howl across the river.  Small water spouts were being whipped up off the pool, and the dust and debris being blown in the air was incredible.  I turned and paddled downstream, and with a sustained 30 mile per hour wind at my back, I made it to the island in no time.  Unfortunately, when I arrived I discovered my tent had been blown into the trees.  It was my kitchen tent, so I decided to just say screw it, and crawled inside my sleeping tent to avoid the storm.  The front blew through fast and the evening ended up being rather nice, although I was now down one tent....which I didn't put back up until the following Monday.

“Things always work out for me because I do whatever I want without worrying about the consequences.”

        ~Tucker Max~

There will be more Tucker Max quotes.  That is a promise.  

   After spending almost the entire week on Brown's Island, I was pretty much Riverrock'd out by Friday afternoon, which is ironic considering Riverrock didn't even start until Friday evening.  My friends Matt and Liz had asked me if I wanted to go to the Eastern Shore of Maryland with them to pick up some furniture over the weekend, and with the weather for Riverrock looking piss poor, I took them up on the offer.  I ended up having a wonderful weekend sleeping in a dry and warm bed, getting a warm shower, avoiding a day of soaking rains on the island, going on a kick ass little road trip (except for the broken hip part.  That sucked.), and most of all catching up with two good friends.  As we get older and life becomes more and more busy, time with friends becomes less and less.  Because of this, I think the important thing is to value the time you do have with friends, and catching up with Matt and Liz reminded me of just that.  Thanks for the weekend guys!  Y'all are the best!
   Monday would have been a day of rest before work on Tuesday, but this was no ordinary Monday.  It was Errol's birthday.  Anyone who knows Errol knows that this means shit is probably going to go down.  We are getting older, so the shit that goes down has changed.....for the most part.  Errol was having knee surgery later in the week and needed some island time. (he had torn his ACL attempting to ski off a twenty foot cliff in New Hampshire......enough said)  He had bartered a rather unique trade of some sort and ended up with the following item in his possession.......

   Now, most people would look at this picture and think, "this looks like a great way to go fishing".  I looked at this picture and immediately thought, "There is whitewater behind it.  That MUST mean it is supposed to run whitewater."  So I concocted a plan to convince Errol into thinking it was meant to run whitewater.......it took me less than five minutes to convince him.  Monday was his birthday, and the stars aligned.  The plan was set and when the sun rose Monday morning, the adventure began.........................

Week Six: Bring on the Floods!

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived."

                   ~Henry David Thoreau~

May 10th ~ Journal Entry ~ Day 39

The Rise of the River

   "It is Friday morning and I am sitting on the hillside at Northern Camp looking out over the James.  The sight is very intimidating because the full power of Mother Nature and the raw force of the James has been fully unleashed on RVa this week.  The James River watershed was saturated with almost five inches of rain on Monday and Tuesday.  The watershed drains 1/3rd of the entire state of Virginia, and all of that water has to make its way through Richmond on its march to the sea.  The following is the story of Wednesday morning through today, and of the rise of the river.

The Middle Lines at higher flows

   I awoke at sunrise on Wednesday morning after a comfortable (and dry) nights sleep on Dwayne's couch.  I had errands to run, and was supposed to be at work at 1pm for the bid process for a contracting job.  When I awoke the first thing I did was check the river levels.  The James River Gauge at Westham was reading (five).9 feet and had just begun to turn upward.  It was predicted to crest at 11.3 feet, which I found disappointing.  When I stood up from the couch and stretched, my body immediately started screaming "ADVIL!!".  Reedy Creek and my butt slide down a rapid had taken its toll on me from the night before.  I stretched the pains out and began my day.  

   At 9am I checked the gauge again.....6.7 feet with a prediction of 13.(four) feet.  That was more like it!  I always break down river levels on the James to students in the following manner.

Below Four Feet - Don't even bother running the river.  Go to Pipeline and just play.

Four feet to six feet - Class III.  Hollywood is harder at lower flows, but this is a great level for experienced beginners to try out the lower.  Just watch for shallow rocks.

6-7 feet - Hollywood becomes Class III+.  Stripper starts to show (just a little) and you will need to punch a hole or two.  

7-10 feet - Great level range for the James!  Hollywood and Pipeline start to get cranking.  The entrance and exit to Hollywood become harder than the actual crux, and you must split two holes (Stripper and Upper) in the entrance.  Pipeline becomes too big for beginners.  But best of all, the Middle Lines are in and all of them vary in the Class II-IV range.  

Zizza entering Pipeline at a healthy flow

10-12 feet - Hollywood and Pipeline are both solid Class IV lines.  The Middle Lines start pumping, and Lulu's and The Poop Shoot, the two hardest lines on the James, both come in.  

Zizza charging Pipeline around 12 feet

12-16 feet - Hollywood and Pipeline are both pushing the Class V level.  Both are long, powerful rapids and you must ferry above BIG pour over holes that have difficult moves and push you in directions you don't want to go.  (ask Bobby.  He knows)  The low head dams become pour over death traps that are to be avoided at all costs.  The Middle Lines have large pour over holes and the lines start to change in there, so don't expect the same results as you would get at lower flows.  Debris (trees, wood, trash, etc.) floats down river and become moving hazards, and strainers form in new places to catch you off guard.  This is a level for experts only.

   Above fifteen or sixteen feet the James becomes pretty deadly.  My all time high is fifteen and a half feet in a raft and fourteen and a half feet in a kayak.  The raft trip at that level almost killed Marcelle and I long ago.  We were young and dumb.  There are only about fifteen kayakers in RVa who have any business even being on the Lower James above fifteen feet.  It is a strong Class V run at those levels.  The low head dams are the worst part and everything happens very fast.  Our fifteen foot trip, normally a four hour day at normal flows, happened in forty five minutes.  It is over before you ever have time to process it.  

   By noon the river had jumped up to 9 feet and was rising a foot an hour, with a new prediction of just over fifteen feet.  I new that I needed to be smart about paddling to the island since I would be doing it alone.  I finally met up for the contracting bid at 2pm, and my boss offered to drive me to Tredagar to put in for the paddle to the island.  I put in around 3pm at an estimated flow of 11 feet.  I was planning to run Fishladders and Triple Drop, the most conservative approach to the island.  The line at Fishladders at 11 feet is easy and is about 60 feet wide.  It would be difficult to miss.  I had no problems and ferried across river, hoping to takeout above Triple Drop at the Western Tip and walk to camp, avoiding running Triple alone.  

   When I arrived at the top of the island I quickly realized that avoiding Triple Drop was not an option because the entire western Tip of the island was already under water.  The trail I had cut had become a water trail, and I was able to paddle down it into the forest, which was pretty cool until seeing that it ended in a giant strainer.  I turned around and paddled back out, then dropped into the line at Triple Drop with a kayak loaded with fifty pounds of gear.  I styled the line and pulled into takeout beach, happy to be home to witness the height of the approaching flood.  

   After stripping my gear off and getting dry, I walked down to War Cry Rock just below Northern Camp.  On the way there, I noticed that the water had just started to trickle through the dry bed between camp and War Cry Rock.  I stood up on the rock and marveled at the power of the James.  There before me, torrents of chocolate milk colored water angrily raged over the rocks of the Middle Lines, thundering down and around and over the giant boulders, relentlessly pushing onward to the sea.  The boulder choked sieves next to Lulu spit out brown foamy water from under the cave, and the line in Deception had disappeared, creating a giant pour over ledge that stretched twenty yards across the river.  After a few minutes of staring in awe, I turned to walk back up to camp.  I quickly realized that the flow between War Cry Rock and Northern Camp had doubled in just a few minutes, and was continuing to rise quickly.  I carefully rock hopped my way back up to camp, realizing that I was exhausted.  I slipped into my hammock and passed out for a much needed afternoon siesta.

Patrick launching off 'Edge of the World' at higher flows

         When I awoke from my nap and emerged from the woods where my hammock was, the first two things I noticed were that War Cry Rock was gone, and the river, which is usually a fifty foot walk down the rocks from Northern Camp, was now 10 feet from the fire circle at camp.  The river was RAGING!  In the few hours I had been asleep it had risen dramatically.  The Middle Lines were now one giant, thick brown pour over ledge, and water spit and boiled out of the inescapable holes at its base.  The smaller islands throughout the river were long gone, and saplings bounced and whipped in the water, all half submerged as if growing straight out of the river.  Giant logs floated by (along with the occasional red play boat.....BOOYAH!).  The logs crashed and splintered against the rocks near shore.  The pace of the water was four times its normal speed, and eddies were non existent.  Huge brown boils of water bubbled up from random places, and whirlpools spun against the eddy lines as they raced down river.  Places that usually held calm, flat water pools were now splashing around with three to four foot waves, and the entire river seemed to swing and chop back and forth, like a windy day on an open sea.  The James had unleashed his full power, reminding the city of RVa that it would never be altered, and would never be stopped.  The river tore through the center of the city at a furious pace, unleashing the relentless and destructive power of the flood.  Mother Nature was flexing her muscles to remind us all just how small we truly are.  

Jon and Trevor flying through Pipeline

Trevor skirting the hole at Deception

   I walked the island trail up to BFR, which stood 20 feet over the river, giving me a clear view of the landscape and allowing me to take in the full scope of the Middle Lines at flood.  I truly was in awe. (I had never seen the Middle Lines during a fifteen foot flood)  The boof in the second drop of Triple was a huge pour over hole, feeding into a river wide hydraulic.  A 10 to 12 foot log was being surfed in the base of the hole, disappearing into the brown before re-emerging five feet downstream.  It would try an escape the hole again and again, but kept being sucked back upstream before being forced down into the brown again.  Lulu was raging.  The water thundered over the top pour over and then constricted down a narrow channel, racing at blistering speed downstream.  The pile of boulders next to Lulu that form the deadly sieves were now gone, and the water poured over the boulders, forming multiple drops.  There was a brown tongue of water ripping through the sieve, and the possibility of surviving a run through that rapid seemed slim.  There was no doubt that the Middle Lines of the James were now a series of stout Class V rapids.  

Looking down into Lulu before it gets big.  This photo was taken around 8 or 9 feet

   I headed west over BFR, but was stopped almost immediately at its base where the granite met the floodplain.  The floodplain had become a series of braided brown channels full of strainers and debris.  The water flowed from Southside rapid into the pool above the second drop of Triple Drop.  I tried to walk across a series of logs that looked stable, but immediately fell into waist deep water after discovering the logs were floating (that really sucked by the way).  I was content to head back to camp, realizing the entire Western Tip of the island was now underwater.  A third of the entire island was now gone.  

   I returned to camp as the sun set; the roar of the rapids surrounding me on all sides.  The island was truly cut off from the outside world, and I was alone, fully protected by the power of the rapids.  No one could get to me, and I was now stranded in the middle of the river, surrounded by our great city.  I ducked into my tent, knowing that the water would continue to rage throughout the night, just as it had done for thousands of years.  The power of the James is truly awesome, and I am lucky to be here to witness it"  

High water James from a distance.....it doesn't look that bad, does it?

   The James River at these levels is extremely dangerous.  I had a few humbling experiences at the height of the flood (you can't boof over the rock at Poop Shoot.....it is just not possible.  I tried.)  I have chosen not to write about them here.  It encourages disorderly conduct.  I paddled a flood swollen river alone, which is a very stupid thing to do.....but remember, I'm crazy, so it's cool.  I am not proud of this, and will never do it again.  Let's just say at the time I wasn't too concerned about the outcome.  Losing your children makes you do stupid things.  Kayaking the James over twelve feet is fun as hell, as long as you know what you are doing and know what to expect.  It takes years to develop those skills, and there is no substituting and it cannot be rushed.  (Hear that Team WAV!.....pay your dues like everyone else.  Mother Nature does not think you are special)  Kayaking the James over fifteen feet is a reckless thing to do no matter how good you are.  (It is done at these levels a lot, but the consequences of a mistake can be deadly.)  That is why I will always stand by what I wrote a few weeks back.......if you are going to paddle the James at flood stage, you better make sure with 100 percent certainty you can handle it, because when you fuck up, you are not just representing yourself, you are representing us all. Have a good week everyone. Hope to see you on the rivah! (Stay off the LOGS!)



"What lies behind us and what lies ahead of us are tiny matters compared to what lives within us."

~Henry David Thoreau~

Week Five: "What's with the weather & Adventures in a Sewer Ditch"

"I see the strongest and smartest men who've ever lived. I see all this potential, and I see squandering. God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war... our Great Depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off."

                                                                                                   ~Tyler Durden~

   Week Five on the island started slow, but ended quick.  It ended up being a transitional week for me.  For the first time in thirty five days my life off the island had become just as important as my life on the island.  I was working 2 jobs close to forty hours a week, writing every day after work, and was leading a fairly active social life for a guy living on an island.  All of these factors were working against me when it came to island life; but not as much as my 2 biggest de-motivators to the Island........weather and low water.  The weather in RVa at the beginning of May is always a tricky call.  It can be 90 degrees and dry, or it can snow.  This year we were having a rare spring.  The beginning of spring was warm and wet, but then it turned cloudy and cool.  Although there were plenty of clouds, there was not much rain.  The river had been running well since I arrived on the island, but the Middle Lines were finally dropping out one by one.  Usually this meant low summer flows were upon us, but this spring Mother Nature decided to save her best for last............

May Fifth ~ Journal Entry ~ Day Thirty Four

   "Returning to the island and working on some projects has greatly helped  me re-adjust to the island life.  I have another week of work off the island, but I accomplished some solid tasks this afternoon, especially the prep work for the stone oven.  The weather has been a big factor the past few weeks, possibly encouraging a complacent lifestyle off the river.  It has been overcast almost everyday, cool with cloudy and cold mornings, and there has been very little rain.  This has allowed the river level to drop all the way down to five feet, drying out almost every Middle Line on the James.  The lack of runnable whitewater has almost certainly decreased my motivation to stay on the Island.  Without a front yard full of Class III-IV whitewater, my reward for a job well done no longer exists.......but all of that is hopefully about to change.  The forecast has a lot of rain arriving late tonight through Wednesday, covering the entire state.  The mountains always receive more moisture, possibly up to three inches in three days on this go around.  Monday through Wednesday will be wet, with Tuesday looking to be a washout.  The end of the week looks to be sunny and warm, with a solid chance of high water arriving Friday.......how high is the question?"

   I knew that I would get limited work done with the weather arriving early in the week, but I decided to spend Monday off the island working and writing.  My hope was to be at camp during most of the rain to take care of any problems that may occur.  I also wanted to make sure I was "flooded in" during the height of high water, but to do that I would need to make sure I was well stocked with food, water, and other things.  By Tuesday the weather had started to arrive and traveling to and from the island was becoming a game of chicken with Mother Nature..........

"Anyone who thinks that sunshine is pure happiness has never danced in the rain."
                                                                                                ~

May 7th ~ Journal Entry ~ Day 36

   "I returned to the island late last night between two storm fronts.  When I arrived back at camp it was late, and my timing with the weather could not have been better.  Not long after returning to camp, getting my gear off, and slipping into my tent for the night, the heavens opened up and the deluge fell to earth.  It rained and rained and rained.........all night long rain pounded down on my tent.  I awoke a few times throughout the night, listening to the pitter patter against my rain tarp, happy to be dry and warm.  When I awoke for the third of fourth time it was light out, but still raining.  I rolled over and drifted in and out of sleep as the geese circled my tent begging for an easy breakfast."

   The geese are a story all in themselves that will be told at a different time.  After an enjoyable day at work and a few post work errands, I found myself at Shockhoe Espresso Coffee checking the radar.  Storms were firing up and it looked like another afternoon of playing chicken with Mother Nature, but first I got a little unexpected adventure in RVa's favorite sewage ditch.........

May 8th ~ Journal Entry ~ Day 37

   " I went to the coffee shop to check messages, weather, and river levels.  The USGS measures river levels, as well as giving predictions. (they are almost always wrong)  They forecasted a peak of 11.3 feet sometime early Thursday morning, but after looking at the radar and rain totals in the mountains, I was positive that they had under estimated.  Nelson, Amherst, Albermarle, and Orange Counties were all under flash flood warnings throughout the day, and rain totals in those areas were approaching three to four inches.  History has shown that these kinds of rains in the James River watershed almost always produces thirteen to fifteen foot peaks.  This event looked no different.
   While at the coffee shop, I noticed that the skies had opened up again and it was pouring outside.  I decided to drive up to Reedy Creek to see if it was running and also to wait for a break in the rain before paddling back to camp for the night.  When I arrived the usual suspects were in action.......Cooper and Ryan.  I walked down into Forest Hill Park to find them, and noticed Reedy was running at a medium/low flow.  By the time I had walked to the crux of the creek it had risen to a medium/high flow.  I saw Cooper and Ryan walking back up the trail with their boats.  They said they had put on at a low level and started scraping down, but they could see on their first lap that the creek was rising fast.  I walked back up top with them and geared up to put on for a lap.  
   Reedy Creek is an experience unlike any other in kayaking.  The drainage for the creek is a commercialized area of Midlothian Turnpike, and the area is pretty ghetto.  This means that about 90 percent of the drainage is concrete, asphalt, and parking lots.  Due to this, it drains fast......very fast.  The creek usually rises and falls in a matter of 30 minutes or so.  It also means it is the most polluted creek you will EVER paddle.  The water is dark grey, almost black, and piles of trash and debris float around in all the eddies.  When you get close to the water it stinks of sewage and gasoline, and you have to wash your gear after every run.  Despite all these factors, it is a great Class III-IV creek run right in the middle of RVa.  It has a nice long low angle slide, a tricky drop of six or seven feet with a tough entrance and multiple lines, and some great run out that includes a nasty little sieve.  Plus, there is a trail to walk back up and do it again.  
   Putting on Reedy is an experience all in itself.  The creek is lined with bamboo and thick brush that overhangs the creek, and at places it is literally five feet wide.  The rapids above the Forest Hill Ave. bridge are very easy, but the constriction makes you fly down this part of the creek, ducking a jungle of bamboo and brush as you go.  By the time we had reached the Forest Hill Ave. bridge the creek had risen even more and we found ourselves flying down some great whitewater.  When we reached the footbridge we had to duck underneath due to the water level.  After the footbridge the real whitewater of Reedy begins with a long, low angle slide.  Cooper and Ryan dropped over the slide first, and when Coop did, he hit the curling wave and slammed into something under the water, bouncing him back towards the middle of the creek and down the bottom of the slide.  I aimed for the same place, but when I hit what was a rock under water, the impact popped my skirt and ejected me out of my boat.  Before I knew it, I was butt sliding down the rapid with my boat chasing me from behind.  I hit the bottom hole and swam hard for the left eddy, which was full of trash and debris (and probably staff infection).  Luckily, my boat hit the same hole and ended up in the eddy with me.  I pulled it up on a rock, drained it, and was back in it ready to go within a minute or so......not the way I had hoped to start the day.  
   When I regrouped above the main drop I realized I had tweaked my shoulder pretty bad, but I stretched it out and kept going.  Ryan dropped into the main drop first; a series of off set holes in the entrance followed by a tricky 6 foot drop with a descent pin potential....plus the drop wants to flip you in the middle of it.  Ryan attempted to bank off the far left tree (yes, the water curls off a tree), but the curling wave flipped him and he dropped over the ledge upside down.  He rolled up and looked a little stunned.  He had smacked his face and hand against rocks in the drop, but appeared ok (meaning no blood).  Next Cooper dropped in.  I followed behind, but when I saw Cooper drop over the ledge in front of me something strange happened; his bow dropped into a crack and his boat lifted straight upward.  For a few seconds Coop was vertically pinned.  All I could see from behind was the hull of his boat sticking straight up in the air. (and he was in a long boat, so it looked really strange)  After a few seconds his bow came free and he dropped over the ledge.  It was a classic vertical pin.  
   The rest of the evening was spent running the main ledge drop in multiple places as rain poured down and the creek continued to rise.  Eventually we hit the run out of the mini gorge, avoiding the nasty little sieve and cruising into Forest Hill Lake, which was full of debris.  From here the creek drops over a fifteen foot dam before running out into the James.  Running the dam is not possible because there is a foot bridge going over top of it that is only about 10 inches high......but leave it to Cooper and Ryan to find a way.  Ryan got the first descent by sitting his boat on top of the footbridge and literally just falling off of it, down the waterfall, and into the pool, missing a rock by about .2 inches.  These boys are the best of the best in RVa, and the following video demonstrates just that.  This is Cooper Sallade's promotional video.  The ending of the video has a great run down Reedy Creek, our backyard crick!  Cooper is the best RVa has to offer, and he is probably the best the state of Virginia has to offer.  Ryan McAvoy shot and edited the video.  Ryan is quickly producing the best kayaking videos in town and has a lot of potential as he goes off to App. State in Boonetown, North Carolina next year.  Congrats Ryan!

http://vimeo.com/66610646


   

   After our run, I walked back to the car smelling like Reedy Creek, knowing I had to take a shower to avoid getting some kind of third world illness. My good friend Dwayne lived down the street and had told me to come by if I ever needed a shower. When I showed up at the front door I said, "I just ran Reedy." He immediately responded, "go take a shower now." He then took pity on my pathetic homeless ass and fed me a really good dinner, then offered me his couch to crash. My body was beaten up, sore, and it was still raining, plus I was starving. The warm shower felt like heaven to me, and dinner and a dry place to sleep helped me re-charge for the approaching high water at the end of the week.

   Friends are what have made the island project possible. Without them I would be beaten down, both physically and emotionally, and I would probably also starve. D.J. once told me that at the end of a persons life they can usually look back and count their true friends on one hand. This experience has made me feel very fortunate, because I have been able to filter out all the assholes in my life and discover who my true friends are at the young age of thirty four, and for that I am truly grateful."


Thank goodness for true friends. D.J. and Dwayne go back farther than anyone on the river for me, and D.J. was right.......true friendship is rare. I always considered Marcelle to be my best friend. Our marriage was based on a strong friendship before we started dating, and it was the friendship that always kept us so close. We loved the river, forest, mountains, hiking, paddling, and just sitting at an overlook with one another. I miss those things the most. The James haunts me with memories of Marcelle. Some come from the early days when we guided together at Richmond Raft Company, and for the YMCA. Some come from after we returned from Ashville and used to take Marlow down the river. Without Marcelle, the James just isn't the same for me, and I am not sure it ever will be again. I keep searching for a way to complete things without her, but I always fall short. I miss my wife, but most of all, I miss my best friend.

My favorite day ever on the James.

“The most valuable gift you can receive is an honest friend.”
                                     ~Stephen Richards~

To read the beginning of how a man came to live on an Island surrounded by whitewater in the center of a city, click here.  Welcome to the Jungle.