"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~
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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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.
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.
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| Patrick launching off 'Edge of the World' at higher flows |
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| Jon and Trevor flying through Pipeline |
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| 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.
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| 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"
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| 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~
"What lies behind us and what lies ahead of us are tiny matters compared to what lives within us."
~Henry David Thoreau~
