Showing posts with label Peter Heller. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Peter Heller. Show all posts

Friday, August 6, 2021

WHITEWATER RAFTING THE GORGE OF THE SOUTH FORK OF THE AMERICAN RIVER

Between the rock and the hard place, the river narrows and finds it way. --- Peter Heller

As a kayaker, I've never really thought much about whitewater rafting. It was something river tourists did. But, not guys who regularly kayak. Kayaks are sleek, nimble, and fast. A good paddler can control their movements on the water and seek out eddies to catch and waves to surf, while those rafts are big, bulky, and cumbersome. It's been my experience while on the Lower American River that those rafts are slow and a little boring as they aimlessly drift in the current. Holding a beer can instead of a paddle, those folks watch me paddle by having all the fun.

So when Sydney Strange invited my wife Debbie and me for a trip down the South Fork of the American River, I didn't know what to expect. And nor did I know I would have the time of my life.
The South Fork of the American River is one of the most popular destinations for whitewater kayaking and rafting in all of California. The site which spawned the Gold Rush now attracts thrill-seekers of every age looking for that rush of adrenaline and excitement. The first 5 miles from the Chili Bar access is brimming full of Class III rapids with intimidating names like Meat-grinder and Trouble Maker. The so-called easy section runs from the Marshall Gold Discovery Historical State Park access to the Greenwood Creek through the valley consisting of several Class II rapids, including a popular surf spot named Barking Dog.

Raft guide Sydney Strange

It's a warm-up for "The Gorge." Descending at 33-feet per mile toward Folsom Lake for 10 miles, the river moves and moves fast, featuring the river's most challenging series of Class III rapids with even more fearsome and heart-pumping handles like Satan's Cesspool, Scissors, and its last big drop called Hospital Bar. I had never paddled it before, but I certainly had heard the stories of all the fabled rapids.
After shuttling our vehicles in place, Debbie and I met Sydney, her mom, and another friend at the Whitewater Excitement, where she's a river guide. Young, slender, and athletic, Sydney is a recent high school grad in her rookie season on the river. Sydney, however, had the confidence of a veteran. As our boat captain for the day, she would be in charge. In giving us a few instructions just after hitting the river. She told those of us in the front of the raft to paddle in sync, which proved to be a little tricky at first. When she would call for us to forward paddle, we would lean forward and forward paddle. When she called for us to back paddle, we would lean forward with our paddles in hand and pull our blades backward. When she commanded the two on the right to back paddle, while the on the two left to forward paddle, we would coordinate our strokes in kind. And most important, when she ordered us to paddle forward hard, we would dig our paddles into the stream and paddle as hard as we could until she called for us to stop.

Now in my whitewater kayak, I would've been dodging the rocks and boulders of Highway Rapids, but the big raft flew over them and danced over the waves of Swimmer Rapids with little effort. From here on would be an uncharted country for me. My whitewater skills are not quite up "The Gorge" just yet. I had never had gone past this Greenwood access till that day. 

Debbie Carlson
A popular destination for whitewater rafting, we followed, as well as led, a parade of rafts full of kids, chaperones, parents, and their river guides down the narrowing stream past landmark rocks along the river that resembles an alligator and a gorilla. At Gorilla Rock, some of the raft guides pulled aside to let brave daredevils leap off the rock into the deep pool before proceeding on.
My wife Debbie had been smiling and laughing the whole way like a kid on a roller coaster. While she had paddled countless times with me, this was her first whitewater experience.
"It's so beautiful here on the river. I can't believe I've lived here this long and have never done this," Debbie told us, "We'll have to do this every year from now on."

Seeing the large tree on top of the mountain called the Lollipop tree marks the beginning of the storied "Gorge." It's here where the river drops, the channel narrows, and the canyon walls get steep, creating large standing waves. If you are not holding on to your hat, you'll most likely lose it at Lost Hat Rapids, a series of drops and massive waves, leading up to Satan's Cesspool.
Guiding and steering from the back of the raft, Sydney had already lead us through some incredibly fun and splashing waves with assurance and calm. Even when the raft got pin-up against some rocks, she would coolly pry us off the boulder with her paddle or order us all to the other side of the raft to lift the weight off the boat off the boulder, letting us free. She was doing all the work, and we were having all the fun.
"Here comes Satan's," Sydney called out over the rushing foam, "This is where all the photographers hang out. Paddle hard on my command!"

Photo by Hotshot Imaging
 Satan's Cesspool at Class III is was one of the most feared rapids on the South Fork. Our blue raft followed the current that eased to the left, then swiftly turned to the right. Paddling hard from my position up in front, I could only glance up at my photo op before crashing down into a frothy hole that bent out our boat like a blueberry fruit rollup. If it hadn't for the foot loop at the bottom of the boat, I would have sailed overboard into the deluge. Meanwhile, Debbie, who was behind me, crashed forward into me like we were dominoes.
We were suddenly caught in the maelstrom, between the rock and the thundering river. The raft wouldn't budge off the rocks. In the rush of the water, we somehow got turned around on this thrill ride. I look up for an instant and see the photographers documenting our mishap like we were the flaming Hindenburg.

From then, my memory is blurry, all I can remember is our paddling crew laughing very loudly, as we tried to push our boat off the rocks. Sydney somehow got us off the rocks and back into the flow of the river. We only had a little time to catch our breath. More we continue to approach even more rapids.
"The Gorge" constricts even more as the colossal diagonal standing waves bounced us and the inflatable boat down the stream like a dribbling a basketball on a fast break. At the peak of each wave, we'd hold our breath only to toboggan down its slope with enough momentum to climb the next oncoming wave. Crashing into each wave, we were showered, with a churning hurricane of water with each drop.
"There's one more big one." Sydney told us, "Get ready."
"The Gorge's" last huge drop is called Hospital Bar Rapids, not because its huge series of waves that has been know to flip boats and wipe out paddlers, but because it was named a medical outpost set up here during the Gold Rush.
Our raft fell down its chute that twisted left and the right till another watery splashdown. We rode those bucking waves like a rodeo bronco getting a perfect score. We cheered with a paddle high-five. Lifting our paddles into the air above our heads, clicking them together in celebration.

Our Whitewater Rafting Crew

 In this year of low water, there were a few more rapids to run before we caught sight of the Salmon Falls Bridge and our takeout. Usually, they are underwater in Folsom Reservoir, so we enjoyed a little bonus round of whitewater to send us off smiling.
Thanks to our guide Sydney, My first trip down the Gorge was memorable. I look forward to many more trips down it in the future. And maybe even one day in my whitewater kayak.

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Friday, January 10, 2020

OVER THE BOW: SAILOR BAR & THE LOWER AMERICAN RIVER


American River Parkway's Sailor Bar has always been a local favorite spot for me to paddle. Conveniently located near my home it not much trouble me to get on the water in a timely fashion. With good flow, I can paddle back and forth to the Sunrise River Access about two miles downriver in a little more than an hour including three portages that aren't too long. Making a very enjoyable afternoon or evening on the water and still home at a reasonable time.

Named after gold-seeking sailors who had reportedly jumped ship to stake their claim along the banks of the river. The park's area and the river were later dredged for gold. The bucket line dredges churned up the riverbed. The gold was filtered out and the leftover rock tailing was cast aside, texturing the park with piles and piles of rock.

Over the years, those rock pilings have been put to good use. Since the Nimbus Dam upstream from Sailor Bar prevents the salmon and steelhead from reaching their spawning grounds, construction crews funded by federal and state agencies have to periodically restore habitat for re-establishing a crucial spawning area for hundreds of native fish. The latest project was completed last fall after heavy machinery moved and placed thousand tons of rock and gravel into the river before the salmon run.

Another part of the project was to create a new side-channel that runs a parallel to the river for a little less than 200-yards. Shallow with sections of both fast and slow-moving water, it was created as a protected area for juvenile fish. But, the extra benefit is a creek like an environment with ripples, eddies, and waves perfect for an afternoon of paddling

Full disclaimer, by no means, am I an expert whitewater paddler. I'm not even average. I know paddlers who can make their kayaks dance over waves doing somersaults and spins in a stylish river ballet repertoire. They are amazing athletes who go over huge drops and surf big waves.

As for me, I just like the feel of the movement of water beneath my boat. The opportunity of learning and reading the river's flow and eddy lines. But mostly, I just like spending time on the water.

"There's always something new waiting for you on the river some new kind of challenge," slalom champion Jana Dukatova, told Red Bull, "White water is never the same, and there are so many features you can play with: surfing a wave, playing in a roll, dropping into a waterfall. As you improve, there's always more new fun stuff you can learn. You'll never get bored."

The smell of death and decay still lingers as skeletons of salmons dot the river banks with turkey vultures and gulls fighting over the leftover bones. Underneath the white ghostly corpses of giant fish slowly decompose at the bottom of the rivers icy waters.

I slid my boat in just above where the narrow channel turns and feeds back into the river. The current there is moving fast with water pouring over rocks providing a nice little standing wave and place to practice my surfing.
Once in place by pointing my bow upstream, I'm was able to skim on top of the water on the front of the wave.

"It's a lovely sensation," wrote kayaking adventure author Peter Heller, "Like flying, with all the river hurtling beneath you as you skip and veer down the front of the wave, held in place by its steepness."

In my little playboat, I was able to surf the wave back and forth with no real threat of rolling back and forth back and forth. Using forwards stokes, I attempted to keep the boat pointing upstream and carve and edging around the wave, that is until my strength wore out and I was flushed out downstream only to ferry back and try it again.

Over the Bow is a feature from Outside Adventure to the Max, telling the story behind the image. If you have a great picture with a great story, we would love to see it. Submit it to us at nickayak@gmail.com

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Friday, December 13, 2019

2019 IN REVIEW: PICTURES OF THE YEAR

Keep your love of nature, for that is the true way to understand art more and more. ---Vincent Van Gogh 

 

I'm a sucker for that golden light. You know, that time of the evening when the low hanging sun burns in a smokey orange and reddish amber over the water. When the sky's palette turns into dimming purplish luster offset by the soft warm glow of the clouds. When kayaks and their paddlers are silhouetted in shadows or backlit with fuzzy bright halos. When the water's reflection is in that a radiant splendor of a hallucinogenic melting ember of tranquility.

Lake Jenkinson
For those reasons alone it makes that time on the lake or river a bit more magical and mysterious than any other part of the day.
Most others have already left the water, So away from the crowd, my images are clean and crisp, but mostly serene and tranquil.

Trust me, when I see golden light like that, it's easy to see the pictures. Like Ansel Adams said, “Sometimes I do get to places just when God’s ready to have somebody click the shutter.”

In my paddling days and outside endeavors in 2019, I got to those natural places often and sometimes just in time and sometimes with all the time in the world to see all its glory about me. Every destination whether new or even after I have visited many times before came with a new adventure that I'll carry with me for a lifetime. And because I saw it from the perspective of my canoe or kayak, well that was just an added bonus.

The Lower American River
As the old saying goes, "You cannot step into the same river twice." After this past year, I can only agree after I often ending up in many of the same places I had visited before. But as noted, those adventures were never the same, for it was the journey that mattered most.

"It's the thing about river running that I've always loved the most," wrote adventure author and paddler Peter Heller, "You go into the country on a natural magic carpet, moving at a speed that is normal to all its denizens, and if you quiet, you can be absolutely silent in a way you can never be walking, and if you are on wilderness river, you slip past scenes you would never, ever witness any other way."

In every outing this year I encountered a new and dynamic experience, whether being a quiet Sunday morning on Sly Park's Lake Jenkinson or a brilliant sunset on Lake Natoma. I have paddled along the pristine shoreline of Loon Lake and hiked a scenic waterfall trail high in the Sierra.

Bayside Adventure Sports on Lake Natoma

While alone in my solitude, I enjoyed the quick water and the slog of the portage back upriver on reinvigorating in perspective trek on the Lower American River. I mostly came to appreciate all the companionships with others as they shared my same passion for the water. From the fun-time glow and sunset paddles with Bayside Adventure Sports to all my interaction with the folks and clients from Current Adventures and Sly Park Rentals Paddle to every paddler, I have met along the way. They have inspired and motivated me and I only hoped that I have inspirited them to get outside and explore and cherish their neighborhood waterway.

As American photojournalist, Steve McCurry said, My life is shaped by the urgent need to wander and observe, and my camera is my passport.” So as 2019 draws to a close, I look back at some of my favorite images from this past year.

Loon Lake with Bayside Adventure Sports

Hot Springs Creek Falls
The Lower American River
Lake Jenkinson
Lake Jenkinson at Sly Park
The American River
The Mokelumne River
Glow Paddle on Lake Natoma
Lake Jenkinson
Lake Jenkinson

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