****This is the continuation of Week 24 Part I. It was written almost two months ago. Sorry for the delay. I blame the ADHD and lack of Adderall. I advise that you read Part 1 first before continuing below, otherwise you will have missed out. Week 24 - The Perfect Rivah - Part I****
~Patrick Rothfuss, The Wise Man's Fear~
You would all be wise to fear that last one.
..........So to review, I have just dropped into Koontz Flume, one of the largest rapids on the Lower Gauley, and upon reaching the bottom I turned and witnessed my friend drop over a pour over upside down before disappearing next to an undercut rock............Yes, this day was not going well. The worst part about the situation was that there was nothing I could do except sit and watch. I heard whistles being blown from the photographers on shore and then watched as an empty boat was spit out of the maw and into the passing wave train at the bottom of the rapid, but the paddler didn't follow. When it comes to the rivah, I tend to be a worrier, so needless to say I was a little worried. Seconds passed by and nothing..................I kept watching the photographers on shore because their angle of view to the ensuing carnage was better than mine. It is not a pleasant experience to have to read the faces of others in order to gain clarity as to how drastic the scene was that was being played out behind the undercut. All I could read on their faces was that they looked worried, and whatever was happening looked like it hurt. Fortunately, not a moment too late, I caught a glimpse of a blue helmet, then a hand, then a PFD, and then a paddle. Two of my friends had derailed off course and been funneled over the drop, and now I counted two boats and two bodies, both of whom were conscious. The paddler who had rolled as he fell over the drop had somehow rolled up out of the maw and eddied out behind the undercut. The second paddler, who had pulled his skirt and swam, was recirculating in an eddy behind the undercut, hence the reason I was unable to see him. They both flushed out from behind the rock, and were quickly swept downstream and into the pool I was watching from.
"Every strike brings me closer to the next home run.”
"Every strike brings me closer to the next home run.”
~Babe Ruth~
We recovered all the gear and the boat, and after a few minutes of struggle found ourselves re-grouping on shore. The swimmer had taken a beating. I had not turned in time to see it, but he had flipped well above the drop in the entry rapids, missed two rolls, and was swept over the drop upside down. The pour over that he tumbled over has a sharp pointed rock in the middle of it just under the surface of the water, and unfortunately his head met that rock with considerable force. For all the non paddlers out there, imagine being upside down in an oxygen absent environment, trapped in a boat, while taking a major blow to the head, completely disoriented with no ability to know where you are............it really sucks! Once he gathered his senses, he reported that he took a hard knock to his head and asked me to inspect him for a concussion, as well as checking his skull for holes. I went through the proper protocol, and found a large quarter sized welt behind his ear. When I saw it, it became obvious that he had hit his head very hard. I looked over the rest of his head, checked his pupils, and asked him a series of questions. Despite the rather large goose egg he now possessed, he showed no signs of being concussed, but I knew we needed to closely monitor him for the remainder of the day. However, as I have stated before, kayaking is a very psychologically tortuous sport. My buddy was rattled, and we had A LOT of whitewater left to paddle. I have learned that in these instances it is best to let the paddler be, and allow him or her to work out the issues inside their own head. Having someone harass you about your psychological state of mind never helps make anything better, and usually results in further anxiety. After about ten minutes of cigarettes, a safety meeting, a replay of the scene, and a bit of silence, he regathered himself and away we went.
“As long as there is life, there is a potential; and as long as there is a potential, there will be a success! You will sprout again when cut down! You will rise again even when you fall!”
~Israelmore Ayivor~
The great thing about the situation was that we were on the Lower G, a rivah that can turn the tide for any rattled boater. There are so many majestic pools, smaller Class II-III rapids, and endless pieces of shoreline scenery to help restore ones psyche. I have had multiple non paddling readers make a request to me that I write a story about what it is like to be a kayaker, experiencing Class IV-V whitewater. I was told that they enjoy the creative writing aspect of The Island Chronicles (as opposed to me bashing the shit out of someone), and wanted to see a piece written strictly about the journey down a whitewater rivah. I have been reluctant to write the piece because it is a piece that means a lot to me, and I don't want to screw it up. I figured if I ever did write that piece, it should be written about one of my favorite stretches of whitewater in the world..........the Lower G. So let's begin with our journey down The Perfect Rivah, from Koontz on..............(now that you know I broke my camera, it should explain why I post lots of older pictures. All of the pictures in the following piece were taken by myself during the 2012 Gauley season, mostly on the same day we were chased by the gun tottin' hillbillies..............ENJOY)
****Let's make this little trip interactive. The following is a link to an excellent scouting site about the entire Gauley Rivah. Feel free to follow along on the journey as you read the story. It is pretty easy to figure out. Just pay attention to the rapid names. Naming rapids is a great way to figure out logistics, and produces some very creative results......................... Link: A Trip Down the Gauley****
"The calm nature of the Lower G revealed itself after pulling out of the rescue eddy below Koontz. We floated through the pool and stretched back out to prepare for the long paddle ahead. As we rounded the next bend, the majestic nature of the rivah exposed itself in the form of Canyon Doors and Junkyard. Canyon Doors is a long Class III rapid that looks intimidating from above, but possesses a clean line all the way through to the bottom. I have never been sure which rapid is Canyon Doors and which is Junkyard, so they always exist in my mind as one. What makes Canyon Doors so memorable is the towering rock wall on rivah right that rests directly over the rapid. It climbs nearly 200 feet up the shoreline............
Rumor has it that you don't want to flip or roll in Canyon Doors (Junkyard) because the rivah bottom contains old dishwashers, dryers, and a few cars that have been pushed off the top of the cliff by the hillbilly locals of West By God. (might be the same boys who held a gun to our heads in "One Great West By God 'Yakin Story") Snagging your face on an old, rusty dishwasher on the rivah bottom would not be a good way to end a day on the Gauley. As we dropped into the entrance, the warm sun glowed off the rock face of the canyon, and the rhythm of the Lower G seeped back into our souls. We slipped through, and spit out into the pool below the rapid.
The next few miles contain easy Class II-III rapids as the canyon breaks apart. The scenery is magnificent, and the calm nature of the rivah allows you time to soak it all in. We floated along, passing under the train bridge and the last sign of human impact until reaching the meadows more than six miles below the lower gorge. For miles the rivah continues its slow push through the hills of West By God. With every rapid, we slipped deeper and deeper into the lower gorge, giving up small Class II and III mazes of whitewater along the way. Each rapid contains it's own unique character. These rapids are great fun for intermediate and advanced boaters alike. They give the chance to practice new moves, explore alternate lines, and enjoy the payoff to years of training that we all cherish as kayakers. One of my favorite things about the sport of kayaking is it gets better as we become better boaters. When you put in the time to really learn the skill, and develop a passion for what you love to do, as opposed to doing it simply for the glory, it pays off so much more in the end. Loving kayaking and developing that passion is the greatest reward in sport.
“The score never interested me, only the game.”
~Mae West~
We recovered all the gear and the boat, and after a few minutes of struggle found ourselves re-grouping on shore. The swimmer had taken a beating. I had not turned in time to see it, but he had flipped well above the drop in the entry rapids, missed two rolls, and was swept over the drop upside down. The pour over that he tumbled over has a sharp pointed rock in the middle of it just under the surface of the water, and unfortunately his head met that rock with considerable force. For all the non paddlers out there, imagine being upside down in an oxygen absent environment, trapped in a boat, while taking a major blow to the head, completely disoriented with no ability to know where you are............it really sucks! Once he gathered his senses, he reported that he took a hard knock to his head and asked me to inspect him for a concussion, as well as checking his skull for holes. I went through the proper protocol, and found a large quarter sized welt behind his ear. When I saw it, it became obvious that he had hit his head very hard. I looked over the rest of his head, checked his pupils, and asked him a series of questions. Despite the rather large goose egg he now possessed, he showed no signs of being concussed, but I knew we needed to closely monitor him for the remainder of the day. However, as I have stated before, kayaking is a very psychologically tortuous sport. My buddy was rattled, and we had A LOT of whitewater left to paddle. I have learned that in these instances it is best to let the paddler be, and allow him or her to work out the issues inside their own head. Having someone harass you about your psychological state of mind never helps make anything better, and usually results in further anxiety. After about ten minutes of cigarettes, a safety meeting, a replay of the scene, and a bit of silence, he regathered himself and away we went.
“As long as there is life, there is a potential; and as long as there is a potential, there will be a success! You will sprout again when cut down! You will rise again even when you fall!”
~Israelmore Ayivor~
The great thing about the situation was that we were on the Lower G, a rivah that can turn the tide for any rattled boater. There are so many majestic pools, smaller Class II-III rapids, and endless pieces of shoreline scenery to help restore ones psyche. I have had multiple non paddling readers make a request to me that I write a story about what it is like to be a kayaker, experiencing Class IV-V whitewater. I was told that they enjoy the creative writing aspect of The Island Chronicles (as opposed to me bashing the shit out of someone), and wanted to see a piece written strictly about the journey down a whitewater rivah. I have been reluctant to write the piece because it is a piece that means a lot to me, and I don't want to screw it up. I figured if I ever did write that piece, it should be written about one of my favorite stretches of whitewater in the world..........the Lower G. So let's begin with our journey down The Perfect Rivah, from Koontz on..............(now that you know I broke my camera, it should explain why I post lots of older pictures. All of the pictures in the following piece were taken by myself during the 2012 Gauley season, mostly on the same day we were chased by the gun tottin' hillbillies..............ENJOY)
****Let's make this little trip interactive. The following is a link to an excellent scouting site about the entire Gauley Rivah. Feel free to follow along on the journey as you read the story. It is pretty easy to figure out. Just pay attention to the rapid names. Naming rapids is a great way to figure out logistics, and produces some very creative results......................... Link: A Trip Down the Gauley****
"The calm nature of the Lower G revealed itself after pulling out of the rescue eddy below Koontz. We floated through the pool and stretched back out to prepare for the long paddle ahead. As we rounded the next bend, the majestic nature of the rivah exposed itself in the form of Canyon Doors and Junkyard. Canyon Doors is a long Class III rapid that looks intimidating from above, but possesses a clean line all the way through to the bottom. I have never been sure which rapid is Canyon Doors and which is Junkyard, so they always exist in my mind as one. What makes Canyon Doors so memorable is the towering rock wall on rivah right that rests directly over the rapid. It climbs nearly 200 feet up the shoreline............
 |
| The cliffs of Canyon Doors and Junkyard watching over us. |
Rumor has it that you don't want to flip or roll in Canyon Doors (Junkyard) because the rivah bottom contains old dishwashers, dryers, and a few cars that have been pushed off the top of the cliff by the hillbilly locals of West By God. (might be the same boys who held a gun to our heads in "One Great West By God 'Yakin Story") Snagging your face on an old, rusty dishwasher on the rivah bottom would not be a good way to end a day on the Gauley. As we dropped into the entrance, the warm sun glowed off the rock face of the canyon, and the rhythm of the Lower G seeped back into our souls. We slipped through, and spit out into the pool below the rapid.
The next few miles contain easy Class II-III rapids as the canyon breaks apart. The scenery is magnificent, and the calm nature of the rivah allows you time to soak it all in. We floated along, passing under the train bridge and the last sign of human impact until reaching the meadows more than six miles below the lower gorge. For miles the rivah continues its slow push through the hills of West By God. With every rapid, we slipped deeper and deeper into the lower gorge, giving up small Class II and III mazes of whitewater along the way. Each rapid contains it's own unique character. These rapids are great fun for intermediate and advanced boaters alike. They give the chance to practice new moves, explore alternate lines, and enjoy the payoff to years of training that we all cherish as kayakers. One of my favorite things about the sport of kayaking is it gets better as we become better boaters. When you put in the time to really learn the skill, and develop a passion for what you love to do, as opposed to doing it simply for the glory, it pays off so much more in the end. Loving kayaking and developing that passion is the greatest reward in sport.
“The score never interested me, only the game.”
~Mae West~
After a few miles of open valleys, easy rapids, and breathtaking scenery, the rivah makes a quick ninety degree turn to the left. Boaters instinctively know what this means...........things are about to pick up, no matter what rivah you are on. Thousands of years ago the Gauley formed, and when this happened it did what any trickle, rivulet, brook, crick, tributary, or rivah would do......................it found a way to the sea. The entire state of West By God rests on a high plateau, so the rivahs all need to fall off the plateau to carve their course to the ocean. The gorges we paddle are where these rivahs fall out of the highlands. When rivahs make sharp turns in those gorges, it is because the mountains have blocked their flow and forced them through tight places that drop between the hills. This ninety degree turn in the rivah marks one of those drops, and signals the approach of one of the toughest rapids on the lower...........The Mashes.
The Mashes are split into two rapids, Upper Mash and Lower Mash. They are stacked right on top of each other, but each one has its own unique character. We rounded the corner and watched the mountain walls close in tightly around us. The sun disappeared behind the ridge line and ahead of us a horizon line formed between house sized boulders strewn across the rivah landscape. The horizon line and large boulders obstructed our ability to see the Class IV-V maze that lay ahead, however, the whitewater revealed itself to our senses through sound. A low rumble began as we rounded the bend, and quickly grew into a faint roar. The roar grew louder, and then the calm pool of water increased in speed. We quickly passed between the first set of house sized rocks, and the whitewater began as a series of easy wave trains.
The approach to rapids and their entrance are usually the hardest part. On 99% of all whitewater rapids, a clean line always exists. The behavior of water dictates these clean lines, and choosing the correct path is the difference between style and defeat. It is usually the entrance that decides that fate. We entered Upper Mash, which is a complicated rapid to navigate if you do not know the route. A large rock the size of a three bedroom house exists on the far right, and the line can be traversed just left of the rock. I dropped into the small wave trains at the top, and eventually the speed and force increased. As it did I was quickly swept into a series of Class III holes that required precise paddle strokes and braces. At the bottom of the series of holes, a strong pour over exists that will sneak up on you quickly. I have flipped here before, and trust me when I say, it is shallow. Throwing a strong boof stroke over this hole will produce successful results, as well as set you up for the next series of sweeping tongues and off set holes. I passed by the house sized rock and continued to weave and slip right to left through whitewater features. Rounding the house sized rock is an awe inspiring experience in my opinion, similar to the experience of breaking out of Reedy Creek on to the James Rivah, or sitting on the 420 rock of the Green. As you pass the rock, the rivah opens up to a few hundred yards wide, with unique rock formations all around, including a complicated rivah scene, full of varying whitewater features passing by in all directions.
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| Upper Mash and the top of Lower Mash...........and my one true love, Pink. |
There is little time to take in the sight however, because the rapid itself requires full attention. Once you pass by the crux of Upper Mash, and continue through the run out, you must begin to search for the entrance to Lower Mash, which lurks just downstream. The key for kayakers is to find the eddies on the far left side of the rivah just above the crux of the rapid. Whitewater is similar to being trapped in a giant puzzle. Once you commit, you have to link each piece of the puzzle together in order to find your way out. The more experience you have, the more puzzle pieces you have to work with. Working through Upper Mash is a great example of connecting the pieces.
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| My buddy Mike entering Lower Mash while boaters in the background traverse the whitewater maze that is Upper Mash. |
Where Upper Mash is the technical piece of whitewater, Lower Mash is the brute substance of the flow. It is simply a big, fat, funneling tongue raging down towering waves that end in a large, crashing hole..................this rapid is every raft guides wet dream. Kayakers are given the option of staying right and plowing head first into the foamy hit, or skirting to the left and watching your buddies eat shit with a front row seat. Be careful though, because undercuts exist at the very bottom of the rapid on the left side.
Running Lower Mash is pure bliss. Peel out of the top eddy and tear into the funneling tongue, and then hold on and follow the wave train. Dropping into a wave train rapid can take some getting used to, because although wave trains always produce big roller coaster style rides, you can't see a damn thing. Wave trains block all view of what's ahead when you duck down to the bottom of the trough. The trough slingshots you up and over the crest of each wave, and as you peak, aside from being really damn fun, it is also a great way to get a glimpse of what's ahead. Dropping down the backside of each wave gives a brief moment to reset, before the ride starts again.
The roar of each rapid doesn't exist to me as a boater when I am engaged in navigating the whitewater. As I picture the experience in my mind, I can only hear silence while I am running rapids. Maybe it is the focus of other senses, or maybe it is something more, but the only time I ever hear anything in rapids, is when I am getting beat down in them.............otherwise, silence.
“It's as if when I open myself up to every perception, things create their own focus.”
~Kristin Cashore~
After passing through The Mashes you drop deep into the Lower Gauley and the most inaccessible area of the entire Upper or Lower Gorge. After a brief period of flat water, the depths of the gorge form yet another hidden whitewater arena, this time in the form of Diagonal Ledges. Diagonal Ledges is a series of small drops that form endless variations of runnable lines, as well as the best surf wave on the rivah. This area of the Gauley is a play boaters dream, and the designated break spot for just about every boater headed downstream.. The Gauley is never too crowded, so having a crowd around at The Ledges represents to me what everything in the social realm of boating should be. It is always diversified, always unique, and above all else everyone always has a smile on their face. Diagonal Ledges always draws a good crowd. (****Research the link and click on Diagonal Ledges to check out the details.****)
I always exit Diagonal Ledges hydrated and with a full stomach, and it always allows me to find my second wind. That second wind always comes at the right time, and The Gauley always delivers below The ledges. A brief period of flat water brings you to yet another horizon line, and another big, long wave train full of monster holes. This is Heaven Help You. Great rapid, with a burly hole called "Juicer" half way down, and an ugly little undercut on the bottom left.
The rivah calms down at this point, allowing for a breath of fresh air and a reminder to how spectacular the scenery can be. Soak it up, because you are now floating deep through the stix of nowhere West Virginia. There is nothing but forest and whitewater for miles in every direction. The only thing that matters is what you have on you, and surviving is broken down into its simplest form. You have food, water, and safety gear to keep you alive and happy, a boat to get you where you need to go, and the skill to overcome the obstacles that lie in your path. Existence does not get any simpler than that. It also doesn't become anymore clear.
At the end of the flat water some serious fun begins. What feels like half a mile of endless wave trains slowly commence, and one after another, the big, friendly waves of Upper and Lower Staircase hit you with pure euphoria. Deep within the gorge, floating down rapid after rapid, it hits you.................whitewater kicks ass!
“Life is a blank canvas, and you need to throw all the paint on it you can.”
~Danny Kaye~
The next few miles of the rivah reveal the inevitable.........the gorge walls are beginning to loosen their grip. The rapids begin to mellow, but still feed your remaining hunger for whitewater. After a slow mile or so, one final kink in the rivah exposes itself as the water bends sharply to the right. The Gauley isn't about to let you off that easy, and one of the largest, most dangerous rapids on the lower section prowls below.................Pure Screaming Hell. PSC is a long series of waves and holes down the far right bank of the rivah. The entire series bends slowly back to the left, pushing the water hard into the right side. Over time, this design has pushed a large jumble of car and house sized boulders into a pile at the bottom right of the rapid, and an ugly sieve exists in the middle of the chaos. Dropping into Pure Screaming Hell is a great feeling, because the entire rapid is laid out in front of you. It is easy to see where you are going, but it still holds BIG water fun. The rule of thumb on this one is simple......stay in the middle of the flow and know that a huge hole lurks at the very bottom. Enjoy the ride as you follow giant, sweeping tongues, soaring over wave after wave. Large holes exist throughout the puzzle of whitewater, so keep on your toes and know what is coming, not what is already there.
The bottom of Pure Screaming Hell is the Gauley's own little farewell present, and it is wrapped in the form of Hell Hole. Hell Hole is a carnage producing dream. Let me give you one of many examples I have witnessed...........I once watched a sixteen foot raft instantly flip its occupants out (they didn't stand a chance), recirculate back into the hole, and then window shade over and over again for over three minutes, catching air with every flip. Window shading a commercial raft is not something that is easily accomplished. It takes a special hole. The raft reminded me of a cheap KMart version as I watched it buckle and bend throughout the ride. Hell Hole is a mean little bitch to unknowing rafts, but one hell of a ride if you can hold on. Square up to it in your kayak, and be prepared for a hard hit.
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| Typical results when meeting Hell Hole. |
As you exit PSC, put yourself back together, lay back, and enjoy mother nature. The next 2 miles of rivah transition into a calm, peaceful float trip through rolling mountainsides. The Gauley is a long day, so many times this float will be accompanied by the warmth of the late afternoon sun. Break out the jars, sit back, and toast to one of the world's great rivah trips, because the scenery truly is special."
“From the dim regions beyond the mountains at the upper end of our encircled domain, there crept out a narrow and deep river, brighter than all save the eyes of Eleonora; and, winding stealthily about in mazy courses, it passed away, at length, through a shadowy gorge, among hills still dimmer than those whence it had issued. We called it the "River of Silence"; for there seemed to be a hushing influence in its flow. No murmur arose from its bed, and so gently it wandered along, that the pearly pebbles upon which we loved to gaze, far down within its bosom, stirred not at all, but lay in a motionless content, each in its own old station, shining on gloriously forever.”
~Edgar Allan Poe~
See ya on the Gauley................hopefully with clean lines, good weather, and a smile upon your face. PEACE
