The Adventures of the Virginia Dirt Bags! (Part II - This is How we Do It)

This is Part II of a three part story.  To access Part I click here.


"The Sun shines not on us but in us. The Rivers flow not past, but through us."
                                                                  ~John Muir~

   Throughout the last decade I have paddled more rivahs and cricks then I could ever possibly count, and have observed more beauty on those rivahs then I ever imagined I would encounter in my existence on this earth.  Each waterway I have traversed has touched my soul in a different way, and every one of those tributaries has been unique in its own manner.  Rivahs are alive; their flow breaths life into the landscape and carries time over the rocks, through our forests, and around our mountains.  Some touch us with their beauty and scenery, but others capture our spirit of adventure because they bear unique mazes of truly legendary whitewater....................the Upper Yough is one of those rivahs.  

   Many aspects of the Upper Yough are exclusively held within its banks from put-in to takeout.  The grassy field to start the day, the small town destination to end it, and the millions of secrets that exist within the ten miles between start and finish.  The rivah drops 520 feet within those ten miles of whitewater bliss, but don't be fooled by the average gradient of 52 feet per mile.  The first rapid, Gap Falls, does not reveal itself until 2.5 miles into the run, and the last significant rapid, Double Pencil Sharpener, sneaks up on you at the 7 mile mark, just before the 3 miles of flat water that pilots boaters out of the gorge and into Friendsville.  Most of the 500+ feet of decline are packed within those 4.5 miles of chunky, sieved out, bedrock landscape.  Once you pass Gap Falls you enter into a different environment, and the outside world seems to drift away.  A trip through the Upper Yough Gorge is a magical adventure that every boater cherishes for a lifetime.  So let's take a trip down my favorite piece of whitewater, The Upper Youghiogheny Rivah.  

"The river has taught me to listen; you will learn from it, too. The river knows everything; one can learn everything from it. You have already learned from the river that it is good to strive downwards, to sink, to seek the depths."
                                                   ~Herman Hesse~

   

   Our small battalion of Dirt Bag soldiers slowly drifted along the initiation of flat water under the mid-day sun as the mountains began to close in around us. The bedrock landscape rose from the depths of the rivah and the ecosystem transformed into a patchwork of stone and liquid.  As the weight of the world fell off my shoulders I felt a warmth encompass me that only the rivah could provide.  I was alive, awakened, and humbled by the gift that mother nature furnished on this day.  Krazy, Ranger Dave, and myself had broken out early, and made the fabled stop at Wait Rock at the conclusion of the flat water to let the bubble of the rivah march downstream.  Ranger Dave took it upon himself to discuss safety for the day at our first pit stop, like any good Ranger would, and we lazily warmed ourselves under the bluebird sky as we snacked on the provisions that satisfied our hunger.  When we re-entered the water, we slipped through Gap Falls, punching the first hole of the day, and began to feed on the whitewater that would satisfy our hunger of adventure for the remainder of the afternoon.

   The next mile of Class III water set the rhythm for the day, and our crew fell into a formation that would allow us the ability to traverse rapid after rapid in perfect harmony.  The pace of water quickly picked up as the gradient dropped away below our hulls, and before long we peeled into an eddy just above the first significant rapid of the trip, infamously known as "Bastard Falls".  Bastard is a steep maze of boulders sprinkled down the left side of the rivah, with one of the many classic boofs that the UY is known for half way down its path.  We dropped in and the whitewater instantly engulfed Pink as I pulled a strong right draw to set myself up for the Bastard Boof.  I paddled 221 days in nine months in 2013, but had only hit the rivahs of the Mid-Atlantic a dozen or so times throughout this year, and I felt the rust in my bones as I struggled against the power of the little Bastard I battled against.  My stern fishtailed out as I set my angle, and I knew I had missed the line to style my first boof of the day.  I entered the set up a little low, and although I had easily stuck the eddy, the accomplishment of stomping out the Bastard Boof had passed me by.  Ranger Dave rocketed in behind me, stamping the rock and slamming down his hull into the eddy with perfect precision and grace.  The look on his face was pure, joyous gratification.  We peeled out of the eddy and finished off the second half of Bastard before pulling into the right side eddy and a picture perfect rivah setting for yet another safety break................the steeps of the Upper Yough were now all around us and we were deeply secured within the canyon, with 140 feet of gradient falling away over the course of the next mile.

“One of the inescapable encumbrances of leading an interesting life is that there have to be moments when you almost lose it.”
                                               ~Jimmy Buffett~


   We sat by the rivah watching raft after raft bounce, pinball, and tumble down the thin line through Bastards left side.  From below the rapid, the true gradient of the rivah fully revealed itself as the water roared through the labyrinth of rock.  Our minds were now full of safety and it was time to drop in to the true belly of this whitewater beast.  Next up was the most difficult rapid of the day, "Charlie's Choice".  Charlie's Choice gives paddler's just that.........a choice.  A left line exists that pulls back to the center of the rivah, and boaters must boof a handful of smaller rocks before punching a strong hole at the outflow of the rapid.  This left line is the sneak of the rapid, allowing potential victims the opportunity to avoid the tighter, more dangerous right line.  The right side of Charlie's is a constricted maze of large boulders that weave toward the middle of the rivah, and the compressed water dashes around the rocks with feverish pace.
   I had personally never taken the right side after witnessing a very close call two summers before.  A fellow paddler had entered the top of this line, and after misjudging his entrance angle, had become bow/stern pinned at the very top of the rapid.  A bow/stern pin is exactly what it sounds like and is rather rare.  The bow of his boat was pinned on the left boulder, the stern of his boat was pinned on the right boulder, and the force of the torrent was pushing against the middle of his boat, holding him in place.  Amazingly the victim used a low brace to keep his head above water for over two minutes while other boaters scurried up the rocks to free his stern.  If this situation had taken place twenty years prior in a fiberglass boat, the force of water pushing against the kayak could have easily folded his boat into the rapid, trapping him inside as he was flushed through Class V chaos, most likely with broken, pinned legs..................Thank God for the invention of plastic!
   I made a quick attempt to convince Krazy of the left line, but he was having none of it.  We were going right, descending the only true Class V rapid on the rivah.  Without giving it a second thought, I dropped in and quickly realized that I had been missing out over the course of my UY history, because the right line was pure merriment.  Pink raced through the entrance, and I just let her do her thing as she styled the line with ease, slithering between rocks and gliding over torrents of whitewater chaos with a style all her own..............damn that girl is sexy!  I punched the hole in the exit, braced downstream, and pulled myself out of the turmoil with a smile on my face.............. God, how I love whitewater kayaking!

Exiting the right side of Charlie's Choice

   We turned downstream and continued through the whitewater wonders we had plunged into, passing the ugly siphon in the outflow of Charlie's right side. I then turned the corner and immediately encountered the heart of the entire UY gorge, the fabled Triple Drop.  The whitewater of the Upper Yough is relentless, and just keeps on coming around every curve.

   Triple Drop is a series of rapids that lead down to it's finale, National Falls.  Our team pulled into the set up eddy on the rivah right and Krazy gave a quick explanation to Ranger Dave of the whitewater that was about to commence.  We then peeled out, turned downstream, and dropped in to yet another perfect rapid....................and the day was just getting started.  

“The human body is robust. It can gather strength when it's in mortal danger.”
                                                   ~Toni Morrison~

   The entrance to Triple is an easy slot move down the right side that dropped us into the set up eddy directly above the second drop, which is also the most challenging of the three.  Triples second drop is comprised of a torrent of whitewater that plunges down the center of the rivah, with hole after hole of boat munching intensity.  The key is to stay right, powering through the first set of holes and scampering for the eddy at the bottom right of the rapid, which allows you to miss the last dominating hole.  We dropped in, all styling the line with ease, and quickly found ourselves safely in the eddy ready to turn downstream and enter the TRUTH that is whitewater..........National Falls.
 

Looking up at Triple Drop from Nationals

   Whitewater is a funny thing...............it truly allows you to block out everything in the world as you glide through the wonders of liquid gold.  I have stated in a previous post that while running rapids I hear nothing but silence in my mind.  That silence is the result of a clear consciousness, and running rapids is the only element in my life that grants me that reticence.  Most of the time it works to my advantage, however, every once in a while it works against me.  On this day, National Falls was about to have its way with me, and it was a result of that clear mind.
   By the time we entered the top of Nationals I was in a zone.  I felt tremendous, as I always do when surrounded by mountains of whitewater.  I cruised through the entrance of the rapid and began to look for my line to the most classic and demanding boof on the rivah................the National Falls Boof.

A perfect Boof at National Falls

   There is a choice to be made by every boater when approaching the main drop of National's.  Left presents the paddler with an easy sneak line, while right offers the boater the chance to style a tricky left handed boof that curls you around an ugly little slanted rock (in pic above) and plops you directly into the eddy (in which the green kayak in the pic is sitting in).  What makes the boof tricky is timing your stroke to wrap you around the slanted rock without landing on it.  Essentially you want to pull through the stroke for as long as possible and then curl the end of your stroke up, similar to the shape of a music note.  (Thanks Pat Keller for the analogy)  Hitting the rock or missing your boof stroke bounces you into the thrashy, sticky hole at the base of the falls.  The hole then sucks you in, usually upside down, type writers you across, and then spits you out after an extended beat down...............as long as you hold on long enough.  This is a thin line and the approach must be made correctly, combined with a perfectly timed boof stroke.  (For all the non kayakers out there, you just had a quick lesson in advanced whitewater kayaking.  Believe it or not, we are more than just adrenaline junkies.  We are all skilled athletes with years of experience.)

   Perhaps it was my clear mind and the zone I found myself in, or maybe it was the second safety brake at Bastard Falls, but for some reason as I approached the drop I realized that I had failed to make the choice between right and left.  In an instant I snapped out of my trance, only to grasp the realization that I was in the one place you do not want to be..................directly above the boat munching hole.

"Life's Tragedy is that we get old to soon and wise too late."

                                      ~Benjamin Franklin~

   In this case Old Ben's words were the truth, because wisdom struck me a moment too late.  I had just enough time to think to myself, "Mother fucker!  This is going to suck!!"  I was presented with one choice.............boof the shit out of the hole.  Needless to say, that choice was futile.  I plugged directly into the hole, submerging both myself and my boat as I completely disappeared into the maw of white.  Due to the fact that I was sitting in a giant plastic air bubble, the laws of physics took over, buoyancy kicked in, and I rocketed out of the water, sending Pink vertically airborne straight up towards the sky.  Of course Krazy was sitting in the eddy prepared to catch the entire WALLACE on his GoPro.  Here is my moment of proof as to how the laws of physics work when under water in a giant bubble of plastic.................................

PINK gets WALLACED!

   Unfortunately becoming vertically airborne was the least of my worries.  Pink completely back endered and splatted directly into the hole, upside down of course, and then National's chundered the shit out of both she and I.  I tucked hard and held on tight.  In the past this situation would have caused panic inside me and I would have bitten down hard as I always did while being beaten down in my kayak.  This reaction has produced numerous chipped teeth over the years.  However, something happened in the past 18 months that has helped to keep me calm and keep my whits about me while being WALLACED on a pretty regular basis................I stopped taking Adderall.  Ever since I did, I have remained calm about situations that I find myself in, and in turn I handled the predicament exactly the way it should have been handled...........I waited.  Eventually National's always spits you out.  Of course when you are upside down in a Class IV hole it can be difficult to manifest patience.  After a few seconds I felt the beating subside and established my set up position to execute my roll.  As I did I rubbed my hands across the bottom of the raft that you see in the picture above and realized I was now underneath commercial rubber...................."Damn It!"  I pushed hard off the bottom of the raft and completed my roll, popping up right next to smiling custy's.  Their guide promptly looked my way and cheerfully stated, "Dude.  You just got beat down, but nice job on catching some serious air."..............Thanks bro.  By the way, the bottom of your raft is a shitty place to end up in an oxygen depleted environment.  After rolling up I instantly felt the wonderful burning sensation that only a proper nasal flushing can deliver.  (Sarcasm.  In reality it feels awful)  I blew my nose hard and discarded about two gallons of the Upper Yough that had been douched up my nasal passages, and then paddled into the eddy just in time to see Ranger Dave once again style the boof with ease................the situation definitely warranted the third safety meeting of the day.  Our timing couldn't have been better because we had now reached our mid-day destination and were ready to observe some serious WALLACES for the next few hours, hopefully executed with the same grace and precision that both Pink and myself had just demonstrated.  The Upper Yough had once again reminded me that it was she, and not I, who was in charge.


“My past has not defined me, destroyed me, deterred me, or defeated me; it has only strengthened me.”
                                                    ~Steve Maraboli~


   Pink and myself's perfectly executed National's WALLACE substantiated an excellent analogy for my existence on this earth.  I have been beaten down on both the rivah and in life..............A LOT!  But that is not what's important.  My focus persists on the fact that I ALWAYS roll up, both on the rivah AND in life.  The holes can chunder me, the haters can besmirch my name.................the rapids can batter me, The Fat Bastard can exploit my reputation...................the whitewater can beater me, the system can unfairly strip me of my fatherly rights ..............but no matter what happens, I will ALWAYS roll up and I will NEVER stop fighting.  That is a promise I will make to every foe, hater, fan, reader, paddler, and friend of The IC................but more importantly it is a promise I will always keep to my children.  I'm still here boys, and I promise, no matter what happens, I will NEVER give up!      

"Fall seven times.  Stand up eight."
                        ~Japanese proverb~


   Stay tuned, because the second half of the Upper Yough remains just as busy as the first, and the conclusion to this story is not far off.  That conclusion consists of more National's beatering than you could ever imagine, that inflatable dinosaur I keep promising, the introduction of a TRUE Dirt Bag Royal, a Western Maryland deluge, and a rather comical WALLACE off a four foot cliff.................yep, it was quite a busy weekend.

See ya on the rivah.....................always ready to roll back up.   PEACE

  

For an organized Table of Contents to The Island Chronicles, click here.