The white water has been a little slow this year. With so little snow last winter and a near drought this spring, the rivers are low, and floating has become mundane. One still exciting place to ride for me has been Six Mile Creek. My uncle, Louie tried to discourage me from running this as he lost a couple of friends there years ago. This charming stream does have a reputation of trapping the unaware, but is regularly run by kayakers and a few rafters, and with newer style equipment it's not as dangerous as it once was. ...I have to keep telling myself this or I'll loose my nerve.
Having run this stream only a few times, I consider it to be fairly new territory for me. I do recognize the major obstacles as I see them and I have identified the proper method of attack for my cataraft with most of them, but I am far from an expert on this delightfully surprising creek.
Well, last Saturday I rolled the whole thing over. No one was hurt but I did loose oars, paddles and pride. Fortunately there were other boats with us to "gather up the bodies and such." Somehow I climbed back on the upside down cat-boat and rode out the canyon, literally "up the creek with out a paddle," and a class V creek at that.
This whole event was not my fault! Well... OK, maybe a little. Nova Riverunners got a rafts stuck on a rock at the top of Suck Hole, and partially blocked the narrow chute on the right where it should be ran. I slowed my descent to give them time to move, but I could not stop and was left with no choice but to run to the left; a big no-no at this drop. This of course gave all Nova's customers a great view, and reminded them why they were paying for professionals.
At the bottom of the drop my left pontoon climbed a rock, we lost momentum, the suck part of the hole pulled us in and the cascading water buried the right pontoon. It was over in seconds. No time to think of high siding. In fact I don't remember thinking at all. I must have caught a rock with my head because my helmet was askew and my glasses broken. (I'm typing this now with one lens. It's all so confusing.)
Ken Mattson and Craig Hyder managed to make it to other rafts. Phillip Lindeke was recirculated a couple of times before he popped up down stream where a kayaker snagged him. I quickly climbed back on the cat and sat on a Pontoon while my head cleared. It probably cleared faster that I thought as it took me a minute to realize the true cause for my blurred vision, whereupon I pulled Kim Eklund on up with me.
We then proceeded in the only direction available. Someone in another boat threw us a rope and tried to pull us to the side, but had to give that up as we approached Merry-Go-Round. They went left while we were doomed to a straight on dive for the bottom. As we dropped over I heard a large pop and then a crunch as the first oar was sacrificed to the river gods. Somewhere before Jaws I contributed another. But it would require an additional payment of two paddles, one dry bag and other assorted pieces before being released from the river's grip.
The really good thing was, it was all on video. I mean, if you're gonna do this in public, you should at least be able to re-live your horror in the comfort of your own living room. And watching it does feel better than doing it. The camera lady said that this was the best "roll footage" she had taped. She was very grateful. I'm so glad she's happy.
That makes two good flips in the four years I've been in this sport. More than average I suppose, but not as good as some of you. Fortunately Nova was there both times to rescue me. Handy people to have around. The one down side to all this is the difficulty in finding new passengers. Some of the old ones don't want to play with me any more. How about you? Want to take a turn down Six Mile? I've got some shiny new oars.
