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