The Shuttle Rig

Hellroaring Creek... WOW

2008-07-23T17:33:00.013-07:00

Through our boss's generosity and maybe a little vicarious living through us, Pat and I finally got a couple days off which happened to coincide with Bradford's time off. The levels were low for many known runs, but prime to head off into the unknown. We packed our gear up for a big three day hike in, hike out in the heart of grizzly bear country and headed up the Boulder drainage south of Big Timber as far as the road would let Pat's truck with severely bald tires make it. From there, we began hiking. Up Sheep Creek trail 3.5 miles to the top of a remote mountain pass in the heart of the Absaroka Mountains. We then hiked down the Middle Fork of Hellroaring Creek 6.5 miles to the confluence with the main Hellroaring where we were relieved to meet a horse packing camp who was wonderful enough to warm us up and feed us sandwiches and coffee.
We collapsed once we finally made camp as dark hit, and crashed as anyone would after carrying a kayak with camping gear 10 miles over a mountain pass.
The next morning, we began floating down a meandering mellow stream with great apprehension as to what we may encounter. Our highest expectations were blown away.
Three incredible and unique gorges each containing Class IV and V drops packed our day with some of the best quality boating the three of us had quite possibly every done.

The first was kind of short at around 1/2 to 1 mile in length, but oh so sweet; containing, a vertical walled section witha fifteen footer and a ten footer

in close, but easily manageable succession among other quality drops.

The second gorge was the longest at around 1.5 to 2 miles long and had a very boxed in feel yet still had sufficient eddies and places to scout or possibly portage anywhere among the Class IV and V drops

we felt one might desire. The best part about this run being that we portaged a total of ZERO times!!! The third gorge was the shortest, containing two longer, complex boulder maze rapids that ended near the boundary of Yellowstone National Park where we took out.

From there, we celebrated our amazing two days with Bumble Bars and hiked half way to the pickup spot where our oh so envious boss was to meet us the next day at 10 AM. After an adrenaline rebuilding night of sleep, we hiked the last (and most arduous) 2 miles to the Hellroaring Creek Trailhead to rendezvous with our shuttle bunny. After taking the Group Photo,

and signing the trail logbook as the YLA, we took off back out of Yellowstone and onto the next adventure. Enjoy the photos courtesy of Pat Rogers.

Stay safe out there and call us if anyone wants to go next year, We ALL plan on making the trip again. It was that good!!

Spring update: PREMIER THURSDAY!!!

2008-04-29T08:50:00.003-07:00

After the long wait, The Shuttle Rig crew is all back in Bozeman. Bradford, Pat, Ben and myself have been suffering from a seemingly endless winter which has provided record snowpacks and if summer ever comes, will hopefully provide a runoff here like the four of us have never seen before. Despite all of our gripes, the bashful summer has been a good thing because The Catalyst is finally completed. Thanks to Ben, Bradford, and the video editing mastermind Zack Melms, for their countless hours of tedious, hard work; Things are all falling into place. This Thursday, 7PM at the Procrastinator Theater (on MSU campus in Linfield Hall) three fresh, new, kayaking films will be premiering at the Bozeman Paddling Film Festival. The first of which is The Oil and Water Project which documents Seth Warren, and Tyler Bradt's epic adventure from the north slope of Alaska to the southern tip of South America all using a converted vegetable oil-burning bus. The second film will be the No Big Names crew's newest film Hotel Charlie 3: The Lost World which brings some incredible footage in British Columbia, Newfoundland, and many other exotic locations. Then of course, there will be The Catalyst, Ben and Bradford's brain child of the past year which follows our crew around and throughout Montana, BC, and Central America. Come check it out. All Proceeds from the premier go to the Biofuel Education Coalition and First Descents kayak camp for cancer patients. Tickets are $7 and can be purchased at the door, Barrel Mountaineering, Northern Lights Trading Company, and Cactus Records in Bozeman. For those of you out of staters, DVDs will be out and about before too long; we haven't decided quite yet how we're going to sell/distribute them, but shout us a comment, email, text, or call, and we'll make sure we get enough copies made for everyone who wants one.
Yesterday was very hot and the rivers are starting to spike. I better go paddle now, see you at the premier.

Perfect Blue Water, Great Friends, Hopelessly Remote, and to top it off. We Were kayaking!!

2008-01-27T10:25:00.001-07:00

Its finally time!!!! Ben, Pat and I left Pavones after the chromic sickness we all suffer from of kayaks refusing to fit in the wanted mode of transportation disease. The back up taxi plan worked though the boats did rip his racks off half way to our destination. For the day we were headed to Heredia just north of San Jose, ultimatly and to our excitement we were FINALLY on our way to the Patria! A day later we find ourselves at the put in with just enough light left to get away from the obnoxiously loud road and set up camp. In our usual fashion Pat and I sleep in hammocks under the leaky tarp while Ben slept on a freshly laid fern bed on the trail. Early the next morning after a bitter cold night we are off and moving at first light. The hike is terribly hard to describe. Basically its hard. The first couple of hours on the river were full on rock bwoinking and gritted teeth pitoning intermingled with some nice little stuff. The character stayed pretty constant until we reached the mouth of the infamous gorge. We failed to find the portage trail and ended up climbing a cliff only to stumble upon our sought after trail only ten feet above the top out of our victorious accent. We reach the top of the ridge next to the gorge and realizes that its lengh must be quite short. We are still quite high but slowly we are able to begin to see the pool below us. It is a georgeous blue with the white foam of what has to be a waterfall on the right. As we descend further the noise of the creek is slowly changing into the distinct distant and muffled rumble of a large waterfall. We had known the waterfall was here, but I could not have been more excited even if I had unknowingly stumbled upon a similar waterfall in an equaly beautiful setting. Trying to navigate the near vertical jungle descent yet with eyes glued to the patchy view throught the trees we exploded onto the swath of rocks surrounding the pool below the drop. Pretty much, drops dont get much cleaner than this one. HOLEY MOLEY we were excited!! Alright, waterfall time comence. With nothing but excitment we hike back up to the boats while planning how to cordinate filming. Pat and I now have a 2:30, 2:35 scedualed take off time. Ben opted not to run the drop as #1. His shoulder had been giving him greif throughout the whole trip and #2. He figuered he had been lucky on this trip and wanted to make sure to go back home uninjured. We thought that was a wise choice. Especially later when 50% of the people who ran it that day got whumped. Our launch times were nearing and finaly Pat was in the water spashing his face and off he went. Five minutes later I was off and shot into the gorge. The first drop was a fun slide twisty thing that shot into a 7? foot wide gorge and booked it around the blind corner to the left. Once inside there was en eddy on the left inside a caldron before the second drops horizon line. I enjoyed my time in here trying to soak it all in. What a perfect place. A little bit of lip scouting and a boof into another left eddy brought me to the lip of the final drop. I reminded myself for the last time to tuck, and off the Pink Famingo and I went! little bit of pre drop navigation I get a glimpse of Ben and Pat right below and then tuck, a hit, that hole working sensation and then up with a HUGE smile plastered all over my face. I am anxious to here Pats tale, as there was no way for us to scout the inner gorge and I was curious to here what he thought. He did fine and the drop went well except he had an exceptionaly hard hit and messed up his shoulder a bit as well as implodng his skirt. We ate a nice lunch and then quickly took off as we were quite behind scedual, and had lots of water ahead of us. We quickly came to a very cool set of maybe four? drops above a river wide seive, which would require some onshore assistance in order to get out. I deamed it worthy to fire up and enjoyed a sweet boof along with other quality stuff. The seive portage required only a short distance of travel, maybe only fourty feet, but took the better part of an hour. Needless to say we camped on the left right after the seive. And in proper fashion you found two of us shivering in the air as the other was wet and tossing on the ground. The next morning the creek continued with its nice character for many hours. One of the more outstanding instances of the first two thirds of the day would have to be one of the more stange animals I have ever seen. Pat is scouting a drop when all of a sudden Ben goes ¨No way!¨ Over to the right is what I can only describe as a pigmy elephant. Anywyas it was weird. It decided to cross the right above a class IV. And by right above I mean less than a foot above the drop. I thought for sure it was going to get swept down that thing as it was in up to half its hight. The character only got better the further we went. Around 2, 3pm we realize we still have a long ways to go and really start to increase the speed. We still were running off hand signals, but at this point were more prone to just get it done. Many sweet drops, a speedy pace , and finally after dark we arrive at the take out bridge of the Sucio. Done!
We get into Heredia fricken late, and say goodbye to Ben as he leaves for the airport. Pat and I depart the next day for San Juan Del Sur, Nicaragua to take a week of spanish language school. After the classes we took off for La Ceiba in northern Honduras. Our adventure here is about to begin and we couldnt be more excited.

Very quickly here is a tenative list we have created for ourselves:

Honduran Exploration
Canyaking in Belize
Guatemala Creekboating

Alright pictures of the Patria as soon as I find a computer that works!

Viva Panama!

2008-01-22T16:13:00.000-07:00

So after deciding that the Rio Patria wasn´t going to happen due to rain, and recalling our lack of excitement for class IV shole boating, we decide that Panama sounds cool. We all agreed that our previous research led us away from panama, because the season is Sept. - Nov., but we decided it would be a refreshing adventure, and we might find a gem or two that flowed during the dry season. So, we went for it and found our selves in Boquete Panama two days later. The cool misty mountain weather was a very welcoming break from the hot sticky buses and sweltering heat of the lowlands. We spent 4 days in Boquete enjoying the refreshing water, and relaxing feel of the Caldera river that flowed though town. The stretch that we did twice was constant, exciting, and refreshing, and a perfect amount of action for grins all day. The excitment level was perfect, not scary, just fun! The other fellows thought that it was a little low, and it was, but definately my favorite so far. The town was full of fun and exciting people such as our hyped up hostel owner, and our rather BROsive new friends from Moab! We had a good time to say the least, dancing and hooten´and hollerin´till all hours of the morning. A relaxing day at the hotsprings topped off our stay in Boquete. I´m defiantly going to return!

So after aquiring info we headed toward the Rio Chiriqui Viejo, the river that borders Costa Rica and Panama. We ran about 50 mile of great class IV-V in 3 days, two nights. There was a good mix of everything, IV+ bump and grind, Class V pool drop within a tight gorge, boulder gardens, sholes, and of course a wroudy fun slide that flew into the river from one of the tributary´s.

Once back at the border town we decide that it´s surfin´time. We walk our boat to the boarder in the sweltering hot sun, then grab a cab to Pavones, Costa Rica which is a small surf village at the end of the road. At that moment in the cab, with a Cerveza in hand, boats on top, and my buddy´s all around me it clicked! This is what vacation is all about, Paradise found right here in this moment. That feeling didn´t last long, about an hour later I´m throwing up in the alley way after just meeting Casey´s buddy Chris from Alaska. It´s quite a horrible feeling to get the BUG!, but a few days worth of stuff coming out of both ends is a small price to pay for paradise. At this point in the trip I was the last to get the bug, the other´s had already been through it! Pavones was a perfect place to nurse my self back to health, as I slowly came too and hoped on board for some daily sunrise and sunset surf sessions. What a place to be a surf bum, I can definatley see how people flock to the lifestyle of surfing, just as we have to the rivers! We bid Casey farewell from Pavones, and glanced towards the falling sun across the ocean to ponder our next part of the adventure.

How to get spanked when it´s FLOODING!

2008-01-22T15:28:00.000-07:00

It´s been a while since our last update, and I apologize for our slacking. New Years day we hopped on our newly aquainted Canandian Buddy´s styley kayak rig with personal driver. We hitched a ride to La Virgne, Costa Rica to try our luck at the Toro, Poza Azul, and then hopefully get on the Rio Patria. We enjoyed some class IV on the Toro, and then it started to RAIN! Oh man, we wanted to get our flood stage boating ON, and we did!! We headed towards the Poza Azul, a waterfall run that has one park and huck, and then a not commonly run upper section with two more 25´ footers, and a few gorges that connect the run. We got the down low that it´s a bad idea to get into those gorges when there flooding, so we check the flow from the bottom. Trees were fly´n, so we´re definately only going to the lower park and huck. Or at least we thought sooo. Our lack of spanish got our driver very confused, so he asked around and soon we were headed to the river. We found a drop, about 25, and it was juicing, but it all flushed. The lead in was certainly class V. Bradford went first, and with some skill, and a stroke of luck launched off the drop about 30 feet from his intended take off, but he styled it! Oh man, my turn, I was a little concerned about how Bradford got to his launch pad, and didn´t think I could duplicate his line. I went for my original line, because I boat best when I rely on intution. Well, here goes, crankin´around the corner, on line, driving hard, I see the crux, almost there, Wham!!! Before I know it my face is dragging on the rock, and the sky gave me one last glimps before I plummit over the lip of the fall backwards and upside down. Oh boy, I´m in for a ride! I went deep, waited, nothing, still nothing, then all of a sudden, oh´ there´s the curtain, definatley getting pounded, but oddly enough my head is bobbing up towards it. I´m getting pummled but I´m not moving, at this point I would expected at least a few cartwheels, maybe a powershade, space godzilla, underchunder, at least something. I pondered my stange predicament for moment, then Oh, I´m goin deep again, hold the breath, then darkness, it´s oddly quiet. Oh, I´m siffting, that´s a good thing, at least the river wants to put me somewhere away from that scary ass curtain. The next thing I notice is Casey standing in front of me with a WHOLEY SHIT kind of look on his face, yep I´m ridin´low with my skirt fully imploded, yet still in my boat, I paddle towards the eddy in proper stern stall fashion, and dismount my craft once I feel the rocks on the bottom tapping my boat. I gave the okay symbol to my paddling amigos, and hop onto shore. After the excitement disipated I pondered my strange descent, and realize that my skirt imploded imediately and caused these strange forces of nature.
After my wonderful display of carnage we decide to boogie on back to town and perhaps try the drop some other day when it´s not flooding. So, a quick little jont to the confluence on class II, and were back to town, right. We soon discovered that our class II was a strong IV, IV+, and then we came to a canyon with some seriously meaty drops that ended in perfect boat assisted swims! Glad we pulled out and looked! After discussion we decided to hike out, becaue it was clear that we were still in the upper part of then run, and we wanted nothing to do with flooding class V canyons. Three hours later after slogging through knee deep mud, and descending a rather hypothesised marsh area we arrived at a farm were the angry looking bulls quickly escorted us towards the sarapiqui river. We hoped on, and zoomed into town where we told tales, drank cervezas, and relazed in a wood fired sauna in true rainforest fashion!

Happy New Year!

2007-12-31T19:16:00.000-07:00

Hey everyone, Ben here! Happy New Year, Feliz ano nuevo! So, after some time spent in quepos, which was slightly unenjoyable, we went up to Turrialba. There we found hospitable people and good water to run. Our first day in the Turri was spent on the Upper Orosi, where we found some mank and some good boofs.... I talk about all of this in the video, so hopefully it will work and it'll be sweet! So, check out the video post and enjoy some tropical land pictures! We'll be posting up again after we go to La Virgen. Once again, Happy New Year, and we Miss all you folks back home and in Montana!

P.S. - we have a sweet satalite tracker device that Bradford brought. It locates us whenever we use it down to a 'T' on Google Earth. It sends whoever wants it an email notifying them of the cooridinates with a link to Google Earth. So, if you're interested, send us your email in an comment at the bottom of the post, and we'll get you on the email list so you can see where in the world we've been boating! We hope you enjoy this new feature and feel free to post comments, questions, or anything other nonsense. We want to hear from you guys, whoever you are! SWEET! Adios!

The Greatest Adventure Is What Lies Ahead

2007-12-27T19:33:00.000-07:00

After our source to sea Pacuare adventure, Bradford and I decided that Ben and Pat would want to adventure back to Turrialba, so we would move on and return later. We headed to San Isidro de General to check out what that place had going on.

After a sweet excursion in San Jose involving a very bonita tica girl name Veronica, (you may have talked to her if you called Scotiabank for customer service. She is required to say that her name is Amy Sanchez, and she prentends to be from the US.) we found ourselves in a sweet hotel in San Isidro. Veronica´s grandmother hung up on us when we tried to call her, so we had an uneventful night.

The next morning, we were off to rio Chirripo Pacifico. We thought the intense class V and VI section would suit us so we put in. The technical difficulty wasn´t surprising, but the arduous, sugarcane hacking scouts with other multiple hazards made us want to run rapids that were not suitable for running. A while later, we were back on the road pulling wasps out of our hair... All of our hair! We hitched a ride with Rodger to the lower put in and bumped down a couple miles of junky read and run Class IV which brought us to the 1 mile hike back to the main road where we scored another free ride back to San Isidro.

Early the next morning which happened to be christmas, we woke up and got a ride to the town of Savegre Abaho which was high, and near the source of Rio Division. Low water made it a little chunky, but we found several miles of class IV boulder drops of the highest quality. We made it down the Division to the Savegre to within about 6 miles of the ocean that night. It was a good way to spend Christmas.

The next morning, we made the trip to the mighty Pacific Ocean, where we planned to make the 8 hour paddle to Quepos to save some money. After getting thrashed in multiple overhead waves trying to get past the surf, we were a bit discouraged and we only made it a couple hours before I got seasick and needed to call it a night. We were nearly out of water when I remembered being sold pipas at the beach last year. we got out the machete and went in search of some young coconuts!

This morning, we woke up after a very wet rainy night and got on the ocean bright and early. Several hours later, I was very seasick and we finally made it to Manuel Antonio beach where Bradford and I spent the next 3 hours trying to hitch a ride to Quepos because we were sick of the ocean. After an incredible lack of success, we turned down an 8 dollar taxi ride, and paddled two hours on the ocean to Quepos.

Once in Quepos, we found that our meeting point hostel for Ben and Pat had no vacancy. Bradford sat with the boats while I checked prices on hotels. When I returned, I had had a huge double take when I saw a Giant Red Rocket of a boat and Ben sitting with Bradford on the side of the street. After the great reunion, we set out to the hotel, and here we are. We plan to run the Naranjo with our new friend we met on the beach named Kanutto tomorrow. Hasta Lluego for now!!

-Casey

Rio Pacuare

2007-12-22T19:11:00.000-07:00

We flew into San Jose 2:35 on the 18th. Once the bus dropped us off in San Jose from the airport we realized our Turriabla bus was 20 blocks away. Since our funds are limited we started walking. A good while after dark us and our 80 plus pound boats finally reached the station, and away to Turrialba we went. Once there it took four tries to find a suitable hostel as our barganing skills are not so hot yet. Next morning we wake up exchange some money buy some bags of beans and off we go to the source of the Pacuare. Still keeping our funds in mind we have decided to link the pacuare into a multiday trip, saving expensive shuttle costs. Also keeping the funds in mind we decided to go with human power to get our boats from the furthest point a truck could make and on to the river. Unfortunatly this means traveling over an extremely steep and muddy mountain pass. We had heard two hours via horse along with someone saying only 45 minutes of steeps. We stared at 1pm, and again it was not until dark did we finally arrive at the river. We quickly ate our rations of food that were not even close to filling set up the hammocks and went to bed. Sleeping in a healthy amount after the not so restful, but lesson filled first night in the jungle we put on late the next morning. The late start was not helped either when my largest dry bag split along the seam. After lots of rearranging and a random local kid happy to have a nice new bag we finally set off on our first tropical river.

Here is a short update brought to you from the heart of the Upper pacuare gorge just after blood hydrolica day two of four:

Our camp sites for the evenings have been everywhere from relaxing and senic to a constant soaking and bug infested. We float by a spot that looks inviting and beach our boats. There is not much time before it gets dark so we set up the tarp and hammocks fast. Even so we still have time for the constant repair of gear, or the eternal search for exotic and delisious tropical fruits. It rains every night, but thankfully we keep mostly dry. For a little bit a least.
This morning we woke up to our last day on the Pacuare. Took off around twelve and spent the next few hours getting to Turriabla for some food, and dry bed. Tomorrow we head out for San Isildo where we will try and run the Charripo Pacifico and possibly Naranjillo section of the Naranjo.

We are almost there

2007-12-11T21:01:00.000-07:00

Casey and I leave for Costa Rica in less than a week and will start boating immediately. Ben and Pat meet us there ten days later. For the next 3 weeks we will boat together as much as possible. Running everything from the local stretches to 3 and 4 multi day expeditions. Mid January Pat and I say goodbye to Ben and Casey as we take off on the next leg of the adventure. I actually do not know where we will be going when goodbyes are said but one of these three locations will more than likely be it.

Chiapas/Northern Guatemala
Northern Honduras
Maya Mts. of south central Belize

For the next month and a half we plan on scouring maps and local beta with the intent upon finding remote and unexplored drainages. Lastly we hope to end up in Nicaragua's western coast for a bit of spanish school and surfing. Pat then leaves in time for the annual Cataract trip and Stillwater organizational time. I stay behind and continue learning spanish till April. When we finally are all reunited again it will be just in time for Montana's steep and deep spring runoff!

There it is. So keep The Shuttle Rig as your start up page, because very frequent updates are about to start flowing in!

Out With A Bang

2007-10-09T23:17:00.000-07:00

3:45AM - The cell phone alarm startled us after a less than rejuvenating night's sleep. Hot water for coffee, some donuts for breakfast, and we headed off from our base camp for the 2 hour drive to the put-in.

6:30AM – We were all dressed and very conspicuous looking when Ben saw headlights coming. The four of us shouldered our boats and scrambled down the trail in the ambient light to hide just over the hill from the parking lot. Tensions were high, and we couldn't be seen, we couldn't be stopped. Not this early, not without at least a taste of this fine river. We watched with relief as the headlights passed. The girls came down to bid us farewell and take a group put-in photo before driving off to play for the day.

We made our way cautiously down the dark, muddy slope to the river where we put on as the morning became barely light enough for us to see each other.

7:15AM - “It looks runnable, but I think a portage is the best option” said Pat from shore after scouting the first major rapid we had come to. Ben thought otherwise and decided to run the BIG boof over a deceptively sticky hole. The book had spoken of kayakers catching a “free rodeo lesson, in the pre-dawn light.” Ben very nicely illustrated this when to all of our amazement, his 92 gallon mega-rocker was cartwheeling and doing all kinds of rodeo moves in the hole with Ben. After his extensive beatdown and swim, Bradford, Pat, and I decided to portage.

7:35AM – The sun was rising, Ben's boat was recovered, everyone was surprisingly warm, and although tensions were still running high, so were spirits, and excitement.

8:45AM – Some flatwater, a fun boof, and a boulder garden behind us, a big rapid with a sheer wall on the left and some nasty sieves on the right faced us. Just downstream was a footbridge over the canyon, at which each of us took turns casting nervous glances, hoping no one would be hiking on such a cold, October day. We decided that it was definitely class V but we were up for the challenge. Bradford went first, got squirted and flipped in his suboptimal craft, and headed straight for the sieve. Luckily Pat sprinted down to help pull his skirt and recover his boat. I'm pretty sure his paddle and pogies are still in the sieve. Needless to say, the rest of us decided to portage, Pat had a spare paddle for Bradford to use, and we passed under the bridge over a 8 foot ledge drop, and around the corner.

10:40AM – The second gorge petered off after numerous fun rapids, 2 of which we scouted, and another we should have (Pat was the only one who remembered the line). Our hands were cold, but our spirits were still warm and ready for more action. We were passed our creek landmark and soon found ourselves deep within the mysterious third gorge.

12:25 PM – Lots of scouting, rapid running, and one drop portaged by everyone led our crew to the conclusion that the third gorge had been the best so far. We were too cold at this point to step up to all of the challenges this amazing stretch had to offer. We came out of the canyon somewhat regretful that we had portaged such quality drops, but happy to be there and glad to escape it's clutches with no carnage. There now remained a lot of flatwater, another footbridge, and 2 more class V canyons in the run.

2:10PM – The flatwater was over, we still had yet to see a soul, and the fourth, California style gorge was among us. Bradford and Pat were too cold from the flatwater to hold their paddles, so they began hiking. Ben and I stuck to the water and with one portage, we enjoyed the few other rapids before beaching at the falls where we met up with the other two.

2:50PM – The falls portage and flatwater between canyons was over. An excited Ben grudgingly agreed with the group consensus of portaging the first three crux rapids of the fifth and final gorge. The portage in the afternoon sun warmed us up and we enjoyed the miles of very fun class III and IV which led us down toward our hiding spot.

4:10PM – After randomly coming across a trickle of warm water dribbling into the river, I hiked up to find a moderately disgusting, waist deep, hot spring pool in the weeds in which we huddled together and tried to stay warm in our wait for dark.

7:15PM – A shared pot of black bean ramen noodle soup, bagels dipped in refried beans, some chalky coffee, and a short hike had kept us warm enough so far, but we were all restless and it was finally starting to get dark enough to continue down to the takeout. We called the girls and gave them the one hour heads up. We were headed to the most exposed and potentially consequential part of the river.

8:00PM – We made it successfully through town, under the bridge, and were on our way to freedom. It was pitch black, but we didn't care at this point. We boogied on down through the darkness, bumping off unseen rocks and noticing that class II is kind of challenging when you can see absolutely nothing.

8:40PM – Headlights and warm hugs greeted us after what had seemed like an eternity (it pretty much was) since we had left the girls smiling faces at the put-in a whopping 14 hours earlier. We had done it. We are all now proud members of the YLA and can't wait to return. What a great way to finish out an awesome season.

Right Side of Mesa...Its pretty friggin' stupid.

2007-09-12T21:23:00.000-07:00

For those of you who don't know Mesa Falls is a waterfall on the Henry's Fork of the Snake River near Island Park ID. Lower Mesa Falls is a magnificent display of power. It is hard to stand next to it and not awe in the beauty of the cascading waters. I personally revere it for its breath-taking riverscape. Lower Mesa Falls, like its name hints, is the product of the Snake River's decent from a high mesa in central Idaho, in two spectacular displays of nature's power. The Upper Falls is unrunnable, but worth a look, as it will get you pumped for what lies merely 3/4 of a mile downstream. The lower falls is a a two tiered drop on the left and a one shotter with a big bounce on the right. The falls crash down into an almost perfectly vertical canyon, with lush grass and towering butresses giving it the feel of Middle Earth rather than middle Idaho. In essence, Mesa is a huckers paradise.
Three weeks ago our crew of boaters made the 2 1/2 hour journey to Mesa Falls for Wes's birthday celebration. It was a beautiful sunny day, and the water levels were perfect. The left side line, which consists of a 15 footer shortly followed by a 30 footer, was prime and just pleading with us to huck. The huck fest was started in fine form by Pat, who hopped in his boat for the first shot at the drop. After his flawless line the rest of the crew followed eagerly into the sweet bubbly bliss.
After many minutes of deliberation Bradford and I decided that the right side was perfect for dropping on this particular day. With safety set and hearts pounding Bradford and I scouted, rescouted, and scouted again. We went step by step through the strokes up to the drop, the boof, the tuck, and the impact. As go time came nearer I could see the determination in Bradford's eyes...mixed with a healthy dosage of trepidation.
Bradford waited in the eddy above the drop veiled by an outcropping of bushes. I anxiously awaited his pealout on the shore just 30 feet away. I feared for my friend. I thought about the shear rock wall just 10 feet to the right of his drop zone. I pondered what would happen if he was off line by a mere 3-5 feet on his left and dropped into the deep seam that disappeared into a thundering abyss 65 feet below. What if he hit the boulder and went over vertical? What if he pitoned? Would he hit his line? Was he ready for this? Before I could think more on these questions I saw Bradford's boat patiently waiting at the edge of the eddy 30 feet above the lip. A few more moments of contemplation, and Bradford pealed out of the eddy heading for the largest drop of his kayaking career. The lip approached, and Bradford was on line. He took one last late boof stroke and plummeted to the rock "bounce" 20 feet below.

He sprung from the rock with impressive force and fell the remaining 45 feet to the chunder below. Without even a seconds falter he was up and paddling away from the drop unscathed. Pat and Jake erupted in triumph from the safety rock below the falls. I could see the exhalation in his face from my perch. His smile beamed ear to ear, and I knew he had laced his line. I bellowed my response to his sick line down to him over the deafening roar. But for me it was not time for celebration. I was up next.
As I got into my boat I remembered how this drop had been my dream since I first laid eyes on it some 3 years ago. How it had kept me up at night thinking about the most significant boof I might potentially ever make. Three years ago I was not ready for the right side of Mesa, but sitting in that eddy starring over my shoulder at the largest horizon line I'd ever contemplated, I knew I was finally ready to give 'er. As I pealed out of the eddy I felt as if the water were slowing down, as if I had a keener sense of things about me. I could hear the roar of the falls, but it somehow felt surreal. Each stroke felt like it was perfect, like the water was controlling the blades, not me. 15 feet from the lip I made contact with my one reference point, a small wave, and mentally smiled; I was on line. 10 feet, I watched the mist approach, and heard only the cacophonous waters. 5 feet, I took my last stroke on my right side and prepared for a left side boof hopefully placing me perfectly on the bounce rock sending me into a pencil in the pool below. As the lip rolled away from my boat I pulled on my left blade, grabbing the rock slightly, boofing the 65 foot waterfall. I had a moment of panic, as I thought I was oververtical, and would piton on the boulder 20 feet below, but instead I felt the watery recoil hit the hull of my boat and the then...darkness. An instant later I felt powerful impact that stunned me momentarily. I rolled up and was at the bottom of the falls. My face was pounding with pain, and my vision was blurry, but I could only feel satisfaction. For lack of a better word I was STOKED. Pat and Jake greeted me with cheering and high fives as I rolled into the eddy. As my adrenaline flowed out of me I began to smile, and then laugh. I had done it, I had dropped the "Right Side". My dream of sailing off the right side was finally realized. It was an indescribable feeling, like none I have had before.
The reunion between Bradford and I back at the top of the left side was awesome. I could see the excitement in his eyes, and I felt it in my own as well. We had bothed nailed our lines, and celebrated together. As we spoke, Bradford told me "...this drop has changed how I am going to paddle. I feel like I can harness my fear now, channel it down into something I can use."
Bradford's words ring truer than ever. I now feel like we've made a leap forward in our paddling. No, hucking your meat doesn't make you a good paddler, and if you are not ready it appears to mean quite the opposite. This drop represented our drive to push ourselves mentally and control our wits. I now look forward to the next challenge that lies ahead.
As we drove off that day I felt more satisfied than I had in a long time. I'm not going to run that drop again. I don't think I'll ever run that drop again, and I don't think I'm ready to, but I anxiously await the next kid stupid enough to think he is.

The New Sensation Sweeping The Nation!

2007-09-12T17:59:00.000-07:00

Marginal Mondays

It's the new mostly legal hazing ritual for for anyone hoping to call them self a Bozeman paddler. With ample low water, rocks, and debauchery for all the greater Bozeman area has never been so fired up to boat the Gallatin late in the cold evening as we are now. With two successful descents so far we are now gathering fliers and stickers to spread the good news throughout town. Our goal is thirty strong, though our last turnout of eleven is by far an unprecedented number for a fall run. Boaters of all levels; and I do mean all, convene at the rally point in the mall parking lot and head to the river. We arrive dancing to the good music and begin the hair run. Once on the river everything goes: crashing your buddy out of a wave, skirt pulling, rescuing you neighbor from a swim, boofing on people, forced swims, guiding a first D'er down. It will all be done in the name of good river fun. It is always dark at the take out when we arrive. The conversations are always planning what will be paddled that next weekend, who wants to go again the next few days and everything of the sort. We will most defiantly report future marginalness to come. please hold no fear.

River Snake....No...Snake River!

2007-09-09T21:01:00.000-07:00

Labor Day weekend came and went this year with a slight diversion from years past. The past few years we spent the three day weekend hucking it on the Kootenai, but this year was different. The kayak scene in Bozeman was stronger than I had ever seen it in the fall, and people were coming out of the woodwork to try their hand at boating. With the monday previous to the trip being a huge success on the Gallatin with "Marginal Mondays" it only seemed appropriate to skip on the gnar and stick with the groovy. With the horde formed, and Luke at the helm, we convoyed to Jackson Hole for epic play, ferocious drinking, and lots of debachery.
The weekend festivities went down without a hitch... aside from the cops being roused twice for the rave that went down on friday night at the campgrounds, or Casey's face being burnt in a splendid game we lovingly call "Fire Facing", or even the paddle Luke broke when he got a little extra cheese on his taco when he had an extended stay in the Burrito hole. Despite the fact that the river was at a in between level, there was no shortage on fun. The sun was shining, the booze were flowing, and the bigginess was all too present. Needless to say the trip was a perfect way to start the dreaded school year in appropriate river rat fashion.
And how could I forget to mention the female kayaking posse that somehow manifested in Bozeman like a SPD in math class? These ladies were throwing down in style. With a group of girls all in kayaks on the Snake, it was no wonder Bradford couldn't keep his pants on! I salute you ladies for gettin' out there and keepin' it real. Surfin', swimmin', and looking drop dead sexy in neoprene! OW OW!!!

Check out the blog soon for our post on the right side of Mesa Falls!

Check ya later Honkies!

Catalyst Trailer

2007-09-06T15:09:00.000-07:00

Over the past summer Pat, Bradford, Casey and I have been filming our adventures with waterproof handheld cameras. Without high quality camera equipment, crew, and camera knowledge we have created this trailer for our movie that will come out Spring 08. Sit back and enjoy... and look forward to the real deal this spring!

Summer Lovin'

2007-08-03T10:37:00.000-07:00

Howdy Partners! The summer is coming to a close and most of the rivers are dry. It is now time to fill you all in on what's going on out here in Montucky. Pat and I started up our summer with a somewhat successful roadtrip through CO for some boating. With poor weather conditions and Pat's need of a truck our trip was cut short. Upon my arrival back in Bozeman on a more than regular Gallatin run I slipped and fell on a rock, breaking my hand, and putting myself out of the game for 8 long a grueling weeks. The creek boat season drifted by as I fell more and more into depression. But don't fear! Pat kept the flame lit by hucking his meat continually on the greater Bozeman's creek scene.
The first ever Big Timber race went down in June, with Pat placing 5th and #1 from the Americans, proving that the young guns and rip it up with the good ol' boys.
With my hand starting to heal we decided to check out the Kootenai at a high flow of 17 grand. Needless to say, it was a wild wild time, with massive surf sessions, big waterfalls, and epic river running through a scenic gorge in Northwest Montana. The Kootenai river offers (in my opinion) the best playboating in the state, with blunts, backstabs, and airscrews being the norm on the big bouncy surf. The wonderful thing about the Kootenai is that it is always GOOD. While some rivers are prime at only certain flows, the Kootenai is prime no matter what level you hit it at. So, it really doesn't matter when you're there... it's gonna be sick. At low flows it turns into big holes with good looping spots and endless surf sessions. At higher flows it turns into massive wave trains and rowdy waterfall hucks culminating with surf sessions that get ended when you swallow too much water and puke in the eddy. If you get the chance, go to Libby Montana and marvel at the "Montana's Zambezi".

Oh yeah, one more thing. Pat and I decided that school would have to wait till spring sememster because Africa is calling... and we're going to answer.

Granite Creek!

2007-06-06T20:06:00.000-07:00

Whammy!!! That's right, the feeling that you get after finishing a two day exploratory project in Northwest Montana. First D?, Second D?, 100th D? Who knows, or for that matter, who cares. A winter's worth of research, several day's of driving, hours spent bush whacking through the woods, getting’ bit by mosquitoes, slipping through soggy, snowy, rainy, and muddy forests, having thorns ooze blood out of your skin, without gettin' wet, it wears on you! Once you take that first stroke in the crystal clear waters of a beautiful backcountry creek you know it's all worth it. The water may be clear, but the outcome of an untested drop is cloudier than Billy Bob's vision after sippin' some montucky moonshine.

Northwest Montana is littered with hundreds of creeks anywhere from rippling brooks to bone crushing mank, all backed by some of the lushest mountain ranges in all the Rocky Mountains. We had spent several day's working our way North from Bozeman, exploring run's that were new to our crew, as well as hitting up classic such as the Kootenai. We had spent the first few day's driving around on a wild goose chase for boatable creeks, they were either too low, too manky, or heinously wood infested. Our crew was breaking down from the lack of actual boating; we started getting at each others nerves, until I dragged everyone up the trail for one last chance to explore. Things were looking mediocre from the trail head, but we had hope. That's right! We had heard rumor of a waterfall 2 1/2 miles up the trail that squeaked through two giant boulders, and plummeted into a deep pool below. We made our way up the trail, poking our heads in and out of the creek bed to scan for drop's and potential hazards. Our pace steadily began to increase until there was a steady pounding amongst the trail. My pulse began to race, my mind drastically started zooming past my body with imagination.
Desperate eagerness clung to our smelly tattered clothes as we screamed around each corner, the creek transformed into this incredibly clean, oh so boofable haven with drop’s stacking up one after another. We quickly came to a halt and all agreed that rushing back to the truck’s to grab our gear would be the only way to satisfy four lonely dudes. We haven’t gotten any action in a while, and this was definitely going to satisfy our H2O addiction.

Trip Report:

Coming Soon!

Carnage Fest

2007-04-30T20:51:00.000-07:00

Trip Report:

April 27th we arrived at the Lochsa river in central Idaho around 7:30 pm. We immeadiately headed for "Pipeline", a retentive wave that holds true to its name. After an hour of surfing the sun began to melt beneath the horizon and it seemed our surf session was coming to a close. It was at this time that Jay had an exquisite idea to shine his car's fog lights down onto the wave.
With this beautiful idea we were able to surf the wave well into the night until our stomachs won us over and sent us back to the "Ghetto Gateway" campground.
The scene at the campground was ludicrous. There were close to a hundred people making their home at the usually empty campsite adjacent to the river. It resembled a festival more than a campsite. After a solid night of partying saturday morning was spent prepping 4 rafts and near 20 kayakers. It was quite an impressive sight to see our posse streched from one bend in the river to the next with no significant break. As the temperatures began to approach 80 the river began to swell, and the raft carnage became imminent. The highlight of the day was Lochsa Falls, where 3 out of the 4 of our rafts were flipped (spectacularly I might add). As for the kayakers there seemed to be an unlimited amount of surf waves to be caught and laughs to be had.
After a second run down the 9 mile non-stop wave train/big water lower section of the Lochsa we victoriously returned to our campsite to celebrate Blake's 21st Birthday. Everyone in our group (30+ people) enjoyed stories of raft carnage and big moves and sweet lines in kayaks.
Sunday was a similar scene as we got back on the river for another rowdy fun day. The water continued to rise and it was apparent as the waves became huge and rowdy surf sessions on Lochsa Falls were had by a few piss and vinegar paddlers.
In the end the weekend was a huge success, with our entire group leaving the river with thoughts of summer drifting through their heads. It was a great feeling to spark the summer flame at such a unique and fun place as the Lochsa for so many people who would otherwise have spent their weekends drinking in the bars in Bozeman. The weekend was spent soaking up the rays, cheering as rafts flipped, hooting as a kayaker surfed a gnarly wave, and laughing as someone did a booty beer. It truly was a weekend for the history books.

The Easter Keg Hunt!

2007-04-10T10:48:00.000-07:00

What does kayaking and keg's of PBR have in common? A three day weekend at the Lochsa with 20 boaters, Chainsaws, Shotguns, surfin', and boofin' in the beatiful backyard of Idaho's epic boating scene, that's what. We set on a mission to the Lochsa area a little weiry, the weather was cold and drizzly in Bozeman, and the Lochsa was low. We were clinging on to the hope of the weather channel actually being correct. The forcast called for weather in the 70's, and a warming trend throughout the weekend. We decided to give it a whirl, and eventually conjured up a crew of 16 boaters from Bozeman to rally up there Friday morning. The afternoon was spent surfing the dozens of catch on the fly waves that the Lochsa has to offer at low flows. I truely love that feeling of good old fashion surfing with a huge grin on my face. I felt like the Lochsa isn't about trying to prove who can do the best freestyle manuevers, it's all about good times with friends, sunshine beaming down on us, and one of the most beaufiful roadside runs anywhere.

Saturday was a day full of adventure! a group of 6 paddlers went over to the S. Fork of the Clearwater for a day of great IV-V river running. We started the morning with a flat tire on one of the Subies, and eventually got it fixed in the town of Kooskia ID. While we were waiting we decided to entertain our selves at was by far the most interesting attraction of this small podunk town in the middle of nowhere, We went Garage Saleing! We ended up with a few goofy hat's, some old Johnny Cash Records, and a semi flat volleyball. We quickly got extreme with our volleyball, and made ourselves a court in the middle of a gas station parking lot, it was a good time, Oh yeah! The Clearwater was great, we finally put-in at around 3pm, and ran ten miles of classic bump and grind river running. Ben sacked up and made Coyote Falls look like class III, which in fact is a chunky piece of v+ that started up the run just right. The rest of the run was perfect read and run action that didn't really let up for the whole 10 miles. Their were two scouts on the run, which were solid V's, but were very forgiving at these flows. The level was great, it opened up new lines, and a boched line wouldn't really get you in trouble. When the day was done we had one swimmer, and a crew full of satistied paddlers, Whoa, I love that run. Super stoked to know that it's still a riot even at lower flows.

Saturday night was spent back at the Lochsa with a keg of beer, and 20 stoked paddlers ready to get down! The whole group quickly became very silly, and before we knew it 4am rolled around, and the keg was finally emptied. The next morning we woke up slowly, sipped coffee, surfed pipeline, and soaked in Jerry Johnson Hot Springs before we made our journey back to the real world. What a way to spend Easter!

How we play in MANtana

2007-04-06T00:19:00.000-07:00

March 31st. After the most epic party this side of the mississippi, still drunk and for the most part lost, we (Jay, Pat, Jordan, and I) set out to find some rarely run creeks in the Northern Crazy Mountains. We were quickly scrubbed on acount of snowy roads. We then turned out attention towards the Absorka Mountains and the Boulder river. The Boulder was only running at 250 cfs, but when Pat, Joe Booth and I ran it last summer at 3000 cfs we portaged a class VI that was huge and manky.
Our mission on this warm sunny day in March was to find a boatable section of the manky class VI that we could have fun with. Along the way we got into some Montana style shennanigans. Rock trundling, Heavy machinery, and hang-over curing beers were all in order.
After our fun was had off the river we decided to scout out the gnarly section of the Hells Canyon of the Boulder. It was amazing how different the run looked at low flows. It was a different river. We quickly found the class VI portage and were stoked to find that there was a beautiful 10 footer nestled in the chunky boulder fields with a notch landing that had to be boofed just right.
For a few hours we sessioned the drop, trying out new boofing techniques and continuing with the shennanigans theme of the day. Jordan and Jay (Jay's first big boof) both did awesome, lacing their lines and making it look like easy mac with some hot sauce on top. All in all it was a fun day in Montana, with plenty of boofin', rocks being pushed down hills, and logging equipment being driven.

Kootenai Creek

2007-03-26T14:04:00.000-07:00

March 24th. Our first trip of the year north to Missoula, MT. Our plan was hit up Kootenai Creek, Alberton Gorge, Brennan's wave, and possibly Bear Creek. The flows were low, but we were all itching to get out there. Saturday the weather was gorgeous and the water pretty low, which was actually a blessing in disguise. We had some first time creekers who did great stomping down the class IV Kootenai Creek. With some more flow this run turns into a great season warm-up with some good boofs and decent rapids. Its a beautiful creek in the Bitterroot range just outside of Missoula with a hiking trail that runs parallel to the entire run. The run consists of about a 1/4 mile of class IV action culminating with a fun little slidy thinger. All in all it was a fun start to the Montana boating season with many more adventures to come!
Oh yeah, and saturday night we slept in a boxcar...it was sweet.

Over and out.

Cataract Canyon Raft Trip

2007-03-21T22:01:00.000-07:00

Spring Break. The phrase incites feelings of ridiculous shenanigans and classic good times. This spring break just so happened to be one of those times. After deliberating for some time Pat and I decided to go kayaking for break rather than the normal, and expensive, skiing option.
With some thought Pat found Cataract Canyon. Cataract Canyon is on the Colorado river in Utah near Moab, nestled in the heart of Canyon Lands National Park. With beta flowing in at a steady pace we sold the idea to as many people as we could. By the time the trip was set to launch we had 17 people, 5 rafts, 4 kayaks, $1000 in food, and $450 in booze ready to rock Cataract Canyon.
The energy was high the day we put on, with all 17 of us milling about getting the rafts geared up. 15 minutes after the trip was underway the first beers were cracked (luckily it was two days of flat water). The first two days were spent meandering through the canyons enjoying the sunshine and each others company. By the time we got to the rapids the group had begun to embrace the "river-hippie" attitude. Farting, burping, nudity, and copious amounts of alcohol were all encouraged (safely of course). With our riverness kicking in the fun level sky-rocketed. Campfire stories, rough-housing, and general shenanigans were not in short supply. Drrrrr....ok, pause the story for a moment, I'm exhausted. We'll continue this exhilerating epic at a later date. As a closing thought I will leave you with some pictures to ponder.
Ben-

Trip Report
The Colorado River from Potash to Dirty Devil boat ramp is a great early season multiday raft and kayak trip. The weather is usually in the 60's and 70's during March, which makes for a great jump start into the boating season. The trip is a total of 96 miles, and can be done in 5-7 days easily at low flows, and much quicker during peak, which is usually early June or late May. The first 48 miles of scenic flatwater can be done in two long days, and is well worth it in order to spend more days in the rapids. Lathrop canyon makes for a great camp the first night at mile 24, and Spanish Bottoms is a great camp for night two. The Doll House area is a great hike! Once below Spanish Bottoms boat 5 miles of whitewater down to rapid #10. Keeping track of the rapids is easy at low flows, they are distinct pool drops. Camp 10's beach is literally a stones throw from the Brown Town, which offers some of the best surfing in Utah. There is a large eddie on river right, and is hard to miss. The dynamic breaking wave/hole offers endless surf sessions. You'll want to plan at least 2 days to session the wave, it's really that good! After Camp #10 there are about 9 more miles of rapids. Scout when even you feel necessary, About 6.5 miles below Brown Town a rapid named Big drop #3(class IV) has a small line for rafts, scout river left. Most of the other rapids are big frothy class III+/IV's that make for great fun in both rafts and kayaks. Float to Gypsum Canyon or farther, to make an easy day's float to the take out the following day. With current low reservoir conditions on Lake Powell the last 28 miles is now moving quickly, and a motor boat shuttle is no longer necessary.
Pat-

Playin' with the boys

2007-02-07T20:57:00.000-07:00

That's right. Neoprene, 90 degree wood paddles, and of course Dry Tops are for Pansies!

¨¨It´s ok, we´re on vacation!¨¨

2007-01-13T17:38:00.000-07:00

Hello friends, once again reporting to you live from Ecaudor. We are now rokkin it out in Banos (and yes, its the same word as bathroom)greatly anticipating our last run of the trip; Rio Topo.
Well, let´s see, what´s been going on since we last updated ya´ll. Pat and I ran the Hollin, which was an overnighter filled with fun.
The first day started with a 40 something foot waterfall followed by some awesome rapids, one of which went through a cave. After a failed waterfall attempt in a raft (not the 40ft one)and a 2 hour long raft pinning incident we had to push hard to get to our intended sandy beach of a campsite. As we came around a corner we were amazed to find a virtual resort left deserted. This place was exactly what you think of when you picture Gilligan´s Isle mixed with Tarzan complete with thatched roofs, multiple rooms and bedrooms, and a view from the front porch to kill for. With a decent nights sleep in our hammocks behind us we set out for the second day. The second day was hardly as entertaining as the first, but it was a beautiful canyon and anytime we became bored with the whitewater all we had to do was look up.
There are many more stories to be told, and in due time they will all be unraveled, but for now I must be going. The streets of Banos are calling us!

Keep on Rokkin
-Ben

Grab life by the pollo

2007-01-08T16:40:00.000-07:00

Hey everyone, so there´s a lot that´s gone on since our last post. Let me fill you in. First off, we boated the Upper Jondachi, which was an epic run. Pat caught a bug and was vomitting at the put in, which made things interesting for the rest of the run. The entire run had easily over 100 rapids in 6 miles. It was non stop IV+/V the entire way down. For the most part we boat scouted rapids, but sometimes it was necessary to hop out and take a look. On one rapid where we happened to do neither I had one of the scariest experiences of my life. Pat dropped in first and gave me the ¨¨mediocre¨¨ sign from the bottom. I dropped in and quickly realized that this was a rapid we should have scouted. I made it about 1/4 of the way down when I got flipped by a rock/cross current. As I rolled up I hit a rock with my back and head, quickly realizing that it was a rock wall. The stern of my boat began to submerge under the rock and before I knew it I was being rapidly pulled into and undercut. With all my strenght I pushed back using one arm and my back to keep from sliding under anymore. At this point I thought to myself, ¨¨Oh crap, I have to get out of here now or else I´m done¨¨. With that mentality I gave it one last push with all I had...It freed me and flipped me over at the same time. After a few more rocks to the dome and some water in my lungs I must have decided I was ready to be out of my boat. Luckily I swam the rapid that was above the biggest pool on the entire run and Pat was able to retrieve my boat. After the incident there was little time to think about what had happened, we had to keep moving.
Once the run was completed we were both exhausted and ready for bed. It took us 6 1/2 hours to go 6 miles and there was a million boofs and holes the whole way down. I will never forget this run and its amazing whitewater, dense and beautiful rain forests, and arduous scouts. ¡Vive el Jondachi!

Today was an entirely different kind of boating. We set out to paddle the Anzu, which was a good 2 hour drive from Tena. We had beta that told us it would be a river, but with a ¨¨creeky¨¨ feel. With this in mind and the put in Pat noticed that the flow of the river was brown and moving quite quickly. As we pondered this a local, one of many that gathered to watch, told me ¨¨Ten Ciudado, este rio esta mas alta, quiere morir?¨¨ The rough translation being, be careful this river is very high, do you want to die? After hearing this and beta from the locals saying that it had rained heavily the night before, Pat and I were sure that the Anzu was flooding. Regardless, we decided to put on well above the recommeded flow. The run started off slow, but began to manifest itself as a burly full on BIG WATER run as Pat and I both blindly dropped off an 8-10 foot boof/waterfall. Once the rapids began to pick up and the river more that tripled in size from confluences with other rivers the run began to really turn it up a notch. We began to boat scout the biggest pushiest whitewater I have ever been on. In one rapid there were a series of three holes that were at least 10 ft tall with the capability to destroy a full sized creek boat. After a few free rodeo lessons and wide eyed decents of sick whitewater Pat and I had had a full on big water day on a run that was supposed to be small and creeky. Needless to say it was one of the best days we´ve had in this country and I will never forget the size and strength of that river! WOOP WOOP!

Hola!

2007-01-05T17:46:00.000-07:00

The last five days have been spent in Baeza, which is a small sleepy town on the eastern side of the Andes. So far we have boated six different runs in the area, We had a few class IV warm ups on El Chaco canyon, which was very scenic, and had some good waves and holes to bounce around in. Our first Creek was the Consanga, which was also very scenic, and had some great rapids full of boofs and quick manuevering. So far the highlight of our trip has been the Quijos river on the Cheese House section, and the Bridge to bridge section. Our first attempt at the Cheese house section was going well, until It ended in a class V swim out of a huge hole, and then accompionied by the ecuadorian mile run to chase the boat. My M3 is well, quite dead and hopefully I´ll be able to sell it for a few hundred dollars. The next day we got another boat, and conquered both the Cheese House and the Bridge to Bridge. Both section were a riot with big holes boofs, boulder gardens and wave trains.These runs had it all, and the action did not let up for the whole six miles from the put in to take out.
We just arrived in Tena about 2 hours ago after a short bus ride through the Andes. We gettin ready for some more jungle Action, and will keep you posted, Ciao!
Pat-

Ecaudor esta LOCO!

2006-12-31T20:54:00.000-07:00

Hey everyone, Pat and I are in Quito Ecaudor on New Years eve! So far its been crazy, Cross dresers, beggin children, strange foods, and lots of cervezas! Getting to the hotel was muy loco! The cabbies didn´t want to put Pat´s boat up on top, but finally we got some old guy to stick it in the back of his taxi. It was quite nerve racking getting to the hotel with cross dressers attacking our car in a foreign language. Finally we got to Crossroads Hostel and set up shop. Right now I´m in an internet cafe in downtown Quito with some blairing Ecaudorin giberish in the backround. Tomorrow we´re off to Baeza to get me a boat and get some sicky gnar Ecaudor style! Talk to you all soon!

Ecuador!!!!

2006-12-26T17:46:00.000-07:00

The time is near, tropical jungles, warm water, boofin', and of course South American women. As Ben and I prepare for our first ever international kayaking adventure the question pops up, What the hell should I bring? We will be boating around the country for 17 days, and traveling via bus and Taxi. We plan on staying in local hostals within the towns of Baeza, Tena, and Banos. Packing for our trip is quite a process. This is what we've come up with so far.

Paddling Gear
- Paddle
- Break down paddle
- Creek boat
- Astral rescue PFD
- Helmet
- Skirt
- Shoes(Teva Gamma)
- Shorty Semi Drytop
- Long Sleeve Hydroskin
- Board Shorts
- Elbow Pads
- Float Bag
- River Knife
- Pin Kit
- Throw Bag(stern of boat)
- Throw Bag(PFD or waist)

Clothing
- T-Shirts(2)
- Shorts
- Pants
- underwear(2)
- Socks(2)
- Rain Jackets
- Fleece Light Top

Gear Bags
- WaterShed Duffel(Chattooga)
- IR Creek Bag(Mesh Backpack)
- AquaPack 820(Passport Pouch)
- Salamader Boat Bag

Medical
- immunization Medications
- diarrhea Relief Pills
- Iodine Tablets
- First Aid Kit
- Insect Block
- Sun Block
- Pepto Bismol

Other Stuff
- Kayakers Guide To Ecuador Book
- Cam Straps 9'(2)
- Camera w/ Otter Box
- Sunglasses
- Headlamp
- Toilet Paper
- Tooth Brush & Paste(small tube)
- Dr. Bronners Soap
- Spanish phrase book & Dictionary
- Travel Sheet(Take a bed sheet and sew it in half)

Group Gear
- Cable Lock
- Paddle Wax!
- Salamander Paddle Bag(Fits 4 Paddles)

Documents
- Passport(w/ multiple copies)
- Immunization Card
- US Drivers licenses
- Credit Card & Check Card
- $800 Cash (mostly small bills)

2006-12-16T23:35:00.000-07:00

Hey y'all, its been a while... School's been crazy, just got done with finals, and to celebrate we finished our first lil movie. Its a short on the Little WHite and White Salmon in Hood River OR. (WARNING: The sound is extremely messed up, bare with us, we're still figuring this whole movie thing out.)Also, if anyone has a good video web hosting place, please let us know. We've been trying Youtube, and various others, but nothing really takes over 100MB videos. Well, without further deliberation, I give you our lil flick.

http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=680890539042151242

Little White

2006-11-05T23:15:00.000-07:00

This is a little fun flick from this past summer down in Tenn. Brandon is the one with the fog horn, Kevin and Jay are the unsuspecting victims.

Not to worry friends, we'll be posting some legit kayaking shortly... We're still figuring this whole thing out, but let us know what you think as we go, your input is what's gonna make this thing!
And a big shout out to the RAPID RENEGADES! Till the next sick adventure!

-Ben

2006-11-05T22:34:00.001-07:00

2006-11-04T17:44:00.000-07:00

Sup honkies! Ben here. So, last weekend was pretty gnarly. On a normal trip to Quake Lake with Jay and Bradford so serious carnage went down. So, while we scouted S-turn, the hardest part of the run, we came across something interesting. Jay and Bradford had found a potential Seal Launch. This was no ordinary seal launch, but a steep, jagged, angry 100 yard monster. To tell you the truth, it looked like it would make a better ski run with a little snow, but with a little encouragement and amping, I was ready to drop it.
The launch began with a 15 ft long chute. This is what initially scared me the most, that, and the rock about 100 ft down the slope that could really mess my day up. I distinctly remember saying to Bradford, "I think as long as I stay away from that rock I should be good". Needless to say, I hit the rock. The first 150 ft of the run went really smooth, but once it opened up I indeed hit the rock, which by the way, destroyed my boat, and sent me sliding sideways around 30-35mph. Despite my efforts to correct my angle I crashed full on sideways into the water where I got launched into the air and smashed back down upside down. Once I rolled up in the rapids I realized that I couldn't breathe and had knocked the wind out of myself. (In the video I make some really messed up noises) I then paddled really hard with no air in my lungs and got to shore. I got out of my boat dazed and confused with my back in some serious pain and gave Jay and Bradford the "ok" and promptly sat down and looked back up and what I had just dropped with a shocked grin on my face. Gosh that was intense! WOOP WOOP!

2006-11-03T00:11:00.000-07:00

May 6th Pat 1:00pm

Our trip is go for launch, and we probably forgot something due to a rather interesting night. After a disgruntled morning trying to jam all of our shit, which bye the way we have way to much stuff and not a enough money. We’re heading to the lochsa for some sicko surf on the pipeline wave, and plan on staying around the lochsa until we get bored, and then move north.

May 6th Ben 11:00pm

We’re at camp now. We checked out pipeline this afternoon and it was washed out, but fortuneatly the wave behind it was in, kinda. It was pretty fun, there were a few decent bounces to be had, but primarly a catching of the wave would evoke a “whoop!” from the other boaters.
I’m going to sporadically change the subject (something that I’ll do a lot) and talk about how things are flowing. As I said, we’re sitting around the fire now talking shit up, you know the usual. Everyone’s telling there biggest horror stories about that “intensely huge hole” or that “undercut sieve” that almost took you down. As I listen to the incesent ego tripping that is used to create order in a newly formed paddling group (and I know I sound so wonderfully altruistic), which by the way I am one of the biggest partakers, I notice the fires across the river. Seeing the small fires glimmering across the Lochsa River makes me think of small tribes of Indians passing through the Idaho countryside. With the mellow rolling featurettes of the canyon and its lush fauna, it is easy to get lost in the sentiment. I see other bands of paddlers with their allegences and tendencies, by which only their tribe obey, as the same goes with our team of boaters. Everyone has their team that they rely on when they’re creeking. Everyone trusts those people with their lives, just like the tribes would have done of their members. There is a deep interconnectedness that oozes from the walls of this canyon.
Bed time. Goodnight.

May 8th Pat 8:00pm

Tonight we rest in a beautiful timber lined cannon overlooking an amazing sunset cast upon a snowy talus. Our location is about ten miles north of Sandpoint Idaho. Today was a relaxed day full of travel and logistics for our adventure into the panhandle. Yesterday was the first day that our newly formed crew had on a full on creek, in a high exposure situation. Our crew for the next few days was tagged together in the last few days of planning. Ben and I are planning on setting sail for a little over a month, and Jake and Andy will be running with us for about a week before they have to so sadly return back to reality. Speaking of reality, Holy shit! Yesterday was a day never to be forgotten in my paddling career. Our crew started the day slow and low, our moral was rather down trodden when we barricaded ourselves beneath our warm dry sleeping bags to shelter our selves from the freezing bone soaking rain. We finally got on Lolo creek at about 1:30 in the afternoon after some sketchy put in directions and hiking, but we were still amped about a new adventure and the beautiful gorge that awaited. We ran about two miles of boat scouting and a few quick exits to peer over horizon lines and give directions with hand signals. Everything was going smoothly, and our crew was operating like a well oiled machine. I eddy hoped down a few drops in front of the crew and was examining a drop while I noticed a rather peculiar looking log flow through the twisting drop, “Oh shit, that’s my paddle, I quickly yelled up stream and gave quick directions to the line in order for my teammates to quickly jolt down stream and recover my paddle. Andy and Ben shot past the drop and began pursuit while cautiously trying to keep themselves out of harms way. They scurried up the bank with bad news, and the situation suddenly became serious. Ben neglected to put his breakdown in the back of the boat in pursuit of a quick and light warm up on some fairly moderate class III-V. We began formulating plans and backup plans, and guesses about the best hiking route out and towards safety away from dense forested steep canyons that bear find so keen. After a swim to the other side of the stream, I was left with my boat, a small survival first aid and a very sketchy plan for escape. I decided to leave my boat in hopes of a quicker route out of this steep canyon. My plan was to get on the rim, and keep the river within view and head towards the takeout. After a very steep and nerve racking climb that’s when I realized I was the only person in a five mile radius as my teammates fade into the distance in hopes of reaching the takeout before dark. This was a very disheartening and scary feeling. After about an hour I stumbled upon what appeared to be the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. It was a faded logging road, and I was going to follow it to the end, no matter which direction it took me, because I realized humans had actually been here. Another hour or so was spent on winding faded trails until I decided to make rock piles in order to find my way back to my boat. I finally found a significant road that lead to a fish hatchery, after about three hours I found the salvation of human life. The next four hours was spent retrieving my boat and hiking up the steepest canyon with a forty pound kayak strapped to my back. That was by far the most strenuous task I had under took since my days as a varsity wrestler and football player. Every step was pure physical and psychological pain and anguish. As I returned back to the fishery just before dark a truck appeared in the previously vacant parking spot. The very friendly fisherman offered me a ride about fifteen miles to the takeout. I arrived with much relief, and waited with a grin and a warm change of clothes for the rest of the crew to arrive just as the sun faded behind the hills and into darkness. What a day!

May 9th Pat 7:30pm

So our “kayaking” trip has been a little different than expected. Today we practiced dragging our boats through the woods and sliding down snow banks on our butts in search of what we thought was going to be a gnarly run deep in the panhandle. We’re just training for the actual kayaking with our strength and conditioning regiment. In all actuality we found a few fun low volume drops and slides after hours of what seemed like a labor intensive day hiking through the snow. Tomorrow should prove to be a better day, because we think there will actually be water.

May 12th Pat 6:30pm

I just wanted to add a few thoughts about the smith creek expedition that turned into a rather epic learning experience once again. I felt like yesterday was one of the best days I’ve had in a kayak. It was long, tiring, low, dark, and Ben’s pin situation placed a serious tone on the magnitude of this run. That vibe was exactly what I loved about this run. We had to work hard, and exercise our judgment in order to get out of this full on intense run that required every ounce of our attention for all eleven hours. The few drops that were in the thick of things were some of the better fun and technical drops that I’ve done in a kayak. Our team had a serious issue that was handled very well in terms of execution and outcome, besides a rather pricy replacement cost for Ben’s boat. We were well prepared with z drag kits and loaded with the knowledge to free a pinned boat in a very real life situation. The day grew long, and I was on a mission to get our team out all in one piece. Everyone had their ups and downs in terms wanting to be done with this run, and off the river. I knew the only way we were going to get out of their was to keep trucking full speed down this rather crazy maze of portages and judgment calls in order to get it done. Just like anything else, especially school work I do my best work under pressure, and really like to cut it close. We did just that and emerged from the forested canyon just as darkness was cast upon this corner of the earth at about nine o’clock at night.

May 15th Ben 7:30 pm

Once again adding some stuff to the blog here as an after thought. Two days ago on Saturday we had an amazing day. We started out on Icicle creek outside of Levenworth WA, which by the way is a crazy town! Levenworth must have some crazy building code that requires all buildings to be built in a Dutch/German/Swedish style. We even went to a farmer’s market with music (we danced). Back to Icicle: We put in at around 10:30 on the lower section with a few random guys who knew the area and had a blast. I scraped up my knuckles a lil bit (I’m going to blame it on my first day in a new boat) which wasn’t too big of a deal, and we came back around for a second go at it. After the second lap we ate lunch and put on the upper section. The mountainside was craggy and sun drenched the entire day. It was not very technical, but it was a blast to boof around all those winding drops. After a good solid day on Icicle we went down to the Wenatche with the guys we met on Icicle. There was a sick hole/wave called “granny’s” that was stompin. There were herds of boaters that would stop on the shore and wait their turn to give it a go. Some small blunts were possible and high speed flat spins. All in all it was a sick day. We paddled from 10 in the morning till 6 at night we sun on our faces the whole time. It was one of the best days we’ve had on the water yet!

Then we come to today, Monday. We heard some sick beta about the “Top Tye” which was somewhat close to where we were (Icicle Creek/Levenworth), so we decided to check it out. We did the bottom section in the morning, and that was exactly what we were looking for, good clean fun! So, after poring over beta and maps and bush wacking through the woods for hours we feel pretty good about the run. But something doesn’t quite feel right. Some of the features and rocks mention in the description of the run aren’t there… We decided to take one last look at Monkey Cage and The Spout, two of the biggest drops on the run, wherein we came across some local boaters. The first thing one of them said to us was, “Hey! You them Illinois boaters?”, of course with a big mocking grin on his face. The plates on the suburban have Illinois plates, which is not an extremely good plate to have if you want to give off the vibe that you’re legit class V boaters. Anyways, as we discussed the run they mentioned that it was SUPER HIGH! They said it is optimal at 200 cfs and we were looking at it at 1200 cfs. This jaw dropping revelation screwed our plans for tomorrow, but we are looking at a possible first decent on Deception creek (if things go smoothly). Tomorrow we plan to head down to the Little White Salmon and my Uncle Bob’s house. Should be an interesting next few days. From here on out we are ethier going to nail the right flows or we’re going to bust big time. Cross your fingers for us!

May 16th Ben 6:00 pm

Today was sweet! It started out with a bad taste. We thought we weren’t going to get anything done seeing as we got shot down for the Tye. We thought it would be spent driving and searching for some sort of mediocre play run to mildly amuse us. But instead of a mild run we found two “park and huck” spots that were just sick. In the morning we found Rapid River. Rapid River apparently only goes off when the water is very high, which at this time, it is. So, instead of going to a smaller creek where everything would be deadly, we found one rapid with two drops that was juicin’. The water was pushy, but the two tiered drop containing a 6 footer into an 8 footer was quite impressive. With the run in being so hectic there wasn’t much time to make your moves, Pat nailed his first line making it look easy. I, on the other hand was not as graceful. My line wasn’t terrible, but I didn’t lace it quite like Pat did. We both ran it twice making for a good morning class V warm up.
The next piece of water we hit was a big mistake. We were on our way down to Seattle when Pat eyed a HUGE piece of water. The Skykomish was going off! With the huge heat wave that hit the Northwest we had a lot of water on our hands, and the Sky was not different. It was at 12,000 cfs and the drop we were about to run was Eagle Falls. Usually Eagle falls is two actually waterfalls with a small hole at the bottom (all this in a 150 yard stretch), but today it was a monster. There were no more waterfalls, but massive Zambezi style holes. Holes that a Volkswagen could easily get lost in. So, needless to say we were stoked. We had to run it. I was up first, and I was a little nervous when I was putting in. I was pretty sure the holes flushed, but I couldn’t be quite sure. Not knowing if I was going to get caught in one of the biggest holes I’d ever seen and held there terminally was a intimidating thought. With this in mind I decided to hit the whole rapid down the gut, right through the meat of the holes. Needless to say what ensued was one of the most incredible beatings of my life. I went through the meat of the first hole and immediately got smashed with what felt like a building falling ontop of me. I don’t recall much except being swirled around everywhich way barely holding onto my paddle. After about 20 seconds of this the water went relatively calm and I rolled up half way to find that the second hole loomed no more than 10 feet away. I caught half a breath of air before getting hammered by the second, which surprisingly was far more intense than the first one. I was under water for longer with a more severe beating. I rolled up with plenty of time to try and catch the wave/hole that was massive at the bottom on the run. I caught the feature in the steep crease and got immeaditely air blunted to the meat of the hole where I took another few rodeo lessons and washed out. All in all I’d say I was underwater for a good minute. It was by far the longest submersion I had ever gone through, but at the end of it I had a big smile on my face… and I ran it again 15 minutes later. Pat had a much smoother line down the drop, not even flipping on the second hole, although he had a sweet unintentional air screw on the first hold, and the third hole gave him the fastest window shadding I have ever seen. Later that day at the Seattle gear shop the owner told us that Eagle Falls was a V+ and that noone runs it at that level, especially in their play boats (play boats make big water way more fun, by the way). It was an epic day to say the least.

May 17th Pat 10:45pm

Man, am I sore! Today was another day that started out with a disappointment due to the level of water in our chosen creek that was once again mapped out. We drove last night till midnight in order to be ready to rock on canyon creek Washington. We awoke this morning to find that this time we had too little water in the creek. It turns out that the further south you go the water source changes from snow melt to rain, it was not raining. We flipped though our handy guidebooks and maps to try and find something to fill our day before it got too late. We got some info from a random guy at the gas station about the East fork of the Lewis, which according to our calculations should have been dry as a bone. He assured us that his friend was hucking waterfalls just two days ago. We took the short journey over the hill about 15 miles away, and discovered only a semi dry creek. The run was clearly lacking, but the few “tourist” waterfalls had enough water due to the bedrock/lava trail formed river bed. We drove until we found a waterfall that was sufficient enough to cure our whitewater itch. This 12 foot falls was not only set in a beautiful background, but it was a perfect plop and drop falls. We started to get progressive, and our waterfall huck became a freestyle session. Before no time we were throwing no paddled pistolflips and wavewheels. We definitely got our fair share of backwards and upside down landing that is currently making my body ache, to say the least we had another sick day!

May 19th Ben 6:19 pm

Yesterday we arrived in Hood River Oregon, a small quaint town just over the boarder of WA. Despite its size Hood River is anything but sleepy. There is a thriving outdoor/”extreme” culture here! Kite-boarders, Wind surfers, kayakers, not to mention friendly people… this place is awesome! Along with the amazing scene Hood River is the epicenter for Northwest creek boating. Located smack dab in the middle of two massive glaciers, there are a multitude of creek runs in a very small radius. So, after getting some good beta about the ragin’ flows from the local paddle shop, we decided to hit up the local play feature. It was “RattleSnake” and it was juicin’. RattleSnake is a steep fast and narrow wave. With a big pile and fast corners it was pretty crazy to hop on. Every once in a while we’d get a blunt in there or a backstab, but for the most part it was more work than it was worth. To turn it up a notch Pat and I worked on the “loop” wave entry move. After a solid session we set up camp and called it a night.
The next day (today) we paddled “the farmlands” stretch of the White Salmon. We put on and didn’t know what were in for. The water ran through a v- shaped canyon carved out of basalt by the receding glaciers at the end of the last ice age. With large flows this usally creek-style river was a full on ragin torrent with big waves, big holes and powerful drops. We stomped through the first section cleanin up pretty good until we hit some turbulence. We scouted a rapid and determined it was good to go, despite the fact that we spotted a horizon line that appeared to go into a big ass hole. And of course, there was indeed a big ass hole waiting for us around the corner. Because we thought there was a difficult limbo strainer we went right into the meat. It was a powerful 4-6ft drop with a monster hole. Both Pat and I got a good ol’ workin’ in there. Both of us came out a little shook up, but no worse for wear. The highlight of the run was Pat’s huck of the meaty 14ft “Lava Falls”. There must have been at least 950 cfs surging over this 30ft wide channel exploding at the bottom into giant holes with a whole bunch of recirculating water. Pat nailed his line and just made it out of the meat in time. I took the sneak route for fear that if I ran the huge center line and I didn’t clear the big hole I’d get pulled behind the curtain and be in big trouble, and with Pat getting flushed far out of view amidst the towering shear canyon walls, there would be no way for him to know if I had been trapped. The rest of the run was filled big fast hole punching that was a blast! The last big drop was a fast lead into a 12ft drop. Pat and I both nailed our lines and romped through the rest of the run with big grins across our faces. Needless to say its been a fun day here in Hood Oregon.

May 21st Pat 12:00pm

The Little White Salmon! Some consider it to be the best creek boating run in the Northwest, or ever the lower forty eight. We awoke to a drizzling rain, and a slow start due to the not so pleasant weather. After waiting for the weather we put on at 11am with a rather skeptical level according to the gage at the bridge. Many people recommended a medium flow for the first trip down this intense run chalked full of consequences. It was at the high side of good. The first half mile was a nonstop boulder maze that ended with boulder sluice, an eight foot slanting ledge that lead right into a very large boulder. A missed line would not be pretty, and Ben scared the shit out of me when he flew past the eddy right above the drop. Luckily we had scouted it earlier from upstream, and he nailed the preferred line away from the boulder. The next few miles were spent trying to recognize the two caves that have frequent visitors; these caves were set at the base of various ledges with dangerously close lines that definitely tested our nerve. S turn falls marked the beginning of the waterfall section, it was a perfect 10ft boof into a snaking boulder maze. Next was wishbone falls a two channeled 20fter that was hucked on the left after a very difficult scout and a scary cliff slide that landed me right on my ass at the lip of the falls, ouch that hurt my rump. I ran it first, and set up video at the base of this very beautiful waterfall scene that landed us in a basalt chamber. We exited into “the gorge” that contained several difficult rapids. Ben and I both got ringers in horseshoe. The guide book warned us that if this drop was taken anywhere but far right a swim would result. We were forced to make a difficult fairy directly above the drop on shallow bedrock. Our paddles both hit the rock and peeled us sideways into the hole. I was almost positive that one of was going for a swim. Ben took the beating for the longest and stuck out this crazy keeper ledge and by some stroke of luck or creative skill he was able to battle his way right out of the meat after a solid minute of washing machine cycles. I slid over the ledge sideways just as Ben did and proceeded to do some rodeo creekin’ luckily I didn’t find the direct center of this nasty ledge hole and after a few rocks to the head was let go by the torrent current. After gaining our composure we had a few more rapids and ledges that lead us into spirit falls. Words can’t describe this 33ft waterfall. This was the most amazing drop I’ve ever seen. In terms of height Both Ben and I had been on falls that plummeted similar distance, but not in this fashion. The drop was more of a spigot with the perfect waterfall arch into crystal clear basalt chamber with carved out walls and mist spraying in every direction. The boil was my biggest concern, because it was huge, but obviously didn’t recirculate. Ben stepped up and stomped it with confidence, and followed right behind him with the biggest grin and loudest hootin’ and hollern’ yet. It was awesome, a perfect launch into a vertical plug, what a feeling. We finished the run with a few more drops and before we knew it the ducks were above us and the fish below us in Drano lake. Both Ben and I agree that no creek paddled as of yet rivals the Little White Salmon.

May 22nd Ben 9:22 pm

The past two days have been interesting to say the least. After our awesome time in Hood River we decided to head to the coast. We arrived in Pacific City and took a delightful little tour of the Tillamook Cheese Company where we got free cheese and some delectable ice cream. After our short detour we sought out the sea. The beach allowed vehicles on it, but with our big weighted down Suburban we had quite a bit of trouble. We got quite stuck and had to dig ourselves out. We tried in vain to get out at the legal spot but ended up having to do the sneaky sneaky illegal move to the boat ramp a mile down the coast. It was pretty funny flying by beach goers in our loaded down Suburban waving the shaka at em.
Once we got over our vehicle issues we plopped in the ocean and surfed it up! The breaks were fun but not too large. Some decent blunts were had and a whole lot of salt water in every orifice. That night we searched desperately to find a place that wasn’t outrageously priced camping. Finding nothing we decided to sneak onto the beach with our bags and pads and nothing else. The wind was relentless, eventually bringing rain our way, causing us to flee to the car and sleep all cramped up on the loft. After a lazy disgruntled morning we found some more bigger surf farther south on the coast in Lincoln City. The breaks were bigger and rowdier. We both got trashed a few times in the relentless surf. Just to catch one good wave we had to paddle our butts off for a good ten minutes fighting through crashing waves and high winds, but once we caught ‘em they were amazing! Some of the waves were at least 9 footers with steep breaking faces. When we timed it right huge aerial moves were had. The hard part was landing the moves, because right when we would land the wave would still be there breaking on top of us. Obviously there were some tossings that ensued. All in all it was a fun and exhausting day. It was a rare treat to surf the ocean and see the beautiful Oregon coast for two days.

Northwestward Ho!

2006-11-02T23:38:00.000-07:00

That's right, a new boating frontier. This is a tale of two guy's on an roadtrip across the northwestern US with one goal in mind, kayak as much as possible. Join us for a trip of a lifetime that is just the beginning. This journal was our first go around, so its a bit sparse in spots, not to worry though... We're gonna keep it rokkin from here out. Enjoy this look into the Eppy Gnar Gnar crew at play! Boop bwoop (cop car noise)!