The Selway River: Paddling from Paradise to Selway Falls at Low Water

Who:  16 Current and Former Hoofers
What:  Kayaking (+ 1 Oar Rig) the Selway River
When:  7/18/14 - 7/27/14
Where:  Selway-Bitterroot Wilderness in central Idaho (2nd largest wilderness in the lower 48)
Gauge Info:  Ranged from 2400-1800cfs on the USGS Lowell Gauge - more water than usual for this time of year, but a small percentage of the standard spring/early summer flows
Why:  Super-Awesome Boating

Sixteen folks from five different states converged on Missoula, MT toward the end of July.  We had traveled countless hours to come and run one of the most tightly permitted Wild and Scenic Rivers in the states:  the Selway.  Dan Y., our trip leader, had astounding river lottery luck, winning both the Selway and the Grand Canyon in the same year.

Loading up at the put-in

I was in the first car to arrive; as one of two cars coming from Wisconsin, we had driven straight through the night and were desperately hoping to find a site along the Blackfoot River.  No dice.  The weekenders were out in hordes, and we ended up in a KOA in the middle of Missoula's suburbs.  (And I ended up hammocking in someone else's postage-stamp of a tent site - thank you, very nice Ohio people.)

Over the next couple days, our group filtered in (and we relocated to the Blackfoot campsites).  We enjoyed a couple paddles through the Class II run adjacent to our site, some awesome cocktails at Montgomery Distillery in Missoula, tasty pizza, quality beer, and pre-backcountry ice cream.  We had a few days to sift and winnow through our gear.  I knew that I could fit everything in my club creekboat, but it was nice to find that I wouldn't need to bring a bug net for my hammock!  Some folks tried cramming their boats with rocks/water as a trial run, but I waited until the Selway to figure out just how raft-like my kayak had become.

Ladle Rapid

The day we were slotted to put on, we headed south from Missoula, west into the National Forest, and then along windy gravel roads until we hit Paradise (yep, it's actually the proper name of the put-in).  We ran into a hiker who had scored the old ranger cabin - still stocked with everything you could ask for, and reservable for a pretty modest sum.  He seemed pretty jealous of our impending river trip.  We didn't put on til 3 (I forget which time zone), but we had plenty of daylight to get us to the first campsite - 7 miles downstream.

The first day's paddle wasn't too much of a challenge.  The river at the put-in seemed shockingly low-volume, but low water was only an issue twice for our raft (and never for us wee little hard-shells).  There was some continuous I/II boogie water, and a couple of tougher II+ (supposedly III) rapids (think puzzle rather than pummel).  I knew that I would likely be the weak link of our group, and while the first day largely set me at ease, I did manage to pin myself in the middle of a boulder garden called Galloping Gertie by focusing on charging through a little hole instead of what was downstream of said hole.  One of the folks in my group came back, gave me a shove, and I made it through the rest only slightly shaken.

My favorite camp - Day 4

The first night we were camped on a narrow beach next to a trail bridge, across from a trail crew (who had seen 9 rattle snakes in 5 days!), and surrounded by huckleberries and thimbleberries.  Dinner was couscous with mole, which was rich, salty, and generally amazing.  We got to hang out, chat, swim, and munch on berries well into the evening; the sun didn't set til quite late.  I decided to put my tarp up thanks to some beta from one of the current hoofers, and while the stars were great at bedtime, rain did end up chasing others under the bridge and into pre-arranged tents.

Day two was supposed to be a step up in terms of rapid classifications.  There was one supposed IV ("Ham") on the menu, but the low water turned it into a straightforward series of little holes.  I continued happily following a conservative ex-hoofer downstream, and enjoying the easy II/III water.  We all knew that the next day would be the toughest, even though our biggest rapid wouldn't show up until Day 4.  The hills surrounding us were beautiful, but it was really tough to tear my eyes off the crystal clear water.  Though the rapids and boulder gardens were pretty continuous, there were plenty of eddies.  Bigger rapids tended to have emerald green pools after them; I would look down and see house-sized boulders below me.  Several small streams were feeding into the river, bringing the volume up.  We passed a remote air strip and fishing lodge, and surprisingly, ran into another group on the river!  The permits are set up to allow only one launch per day, but the forest service was running a half dozen oar rigs down to deal with invasive species.  The oar men and their passengers were volunteers who received a un-permitted trip down river and a small per diem.  The ranger in charge was great, and they made sure not to take our choice campsites the rest of the week.

Jake

Our second campsite was at the accurately named Rattlesnake Bar.  Within a half hour of landing, some of the former Hoofers had located Jake, our very own Western Diamondback.  We vacated his area, and got our tarps up as some dark clouds started rolling past a mountain just upstream of us.  I wasn't thrilled with my tarp/hammock set-up, and spent much of the evening tweaking things (and retying them as the wind picked up).  Thai coconut shrimp soup was on the menu; without soy sauce, it would have been perfect.  We pulled out a Cosmopolitan that one of the guys had brought along, and tucked underneath our shelters as the rain started to spit.  The wind was howling by this point, and the trees on the fire-ravaged (far) side of the river started toppling over and sliding down to the banks of the river.  The forest service crew (downstream by now) was almost hit by a tree while they were paddling along.  The weather calmed before everyone went to sleep, and we woke rested for the longest, toughest day.

We swapped our groups around for day four.  (To manage such a large group, we split into two groups each day.)  Our day was supposed to contain several class IVs (Double Drop, Ladle, Little Niagra, and Puzzle Creek), but at our water levels, the rapids were manageable IIIs.  While I managed to take some, ahem, interesting lines down several of the rapids, Day 4 was certifiably my favorite river day.  I got confused about what I was going through on Double Drop (we didn't scout, but had people downstream directing us), and dropped into a monster hole without having a clue about what I was headed into.  I flipped, carped (a poor-technique roll where you try to get air and have no chance of getting rightside up), and would have rolled up on a second attempt, except a would-be rescuer knocked me back into the water.  That was my first swim of the trip, and it left me less than certain about my abilities.  (To be fair, my abilities are not that awesome to begin with.)
Ladle and Little Niagra had some meaty holes, but weren't too bad.  Wa-Poots, a class III rapid, had this amazing, giant standing wave in the middle of the current, and it was, by far, my favorite rapid.  I cut the corner at the end of the rapid, went over a pour-over sideways, but managed to brace my way out of any trouble.

Lunch stop

The other two swims of the trip (one for me and one for Dan P.) were at a shouldn't-have-been-that-difficult rapid near the end of the day.  The river curved left, the water pushed right, and the bottom of the rapid held a meaty hole complete with recirculating room-of-doom (a really strong eddy that traps you against an  escarpment).  I stopped to scout, figured I should ferry left, and then watched as several others had tough-looking lines downstream.  Dan P. didn't ferry, and he ended up flipping early and scraping over a ton of rocks.  I couldn't see him clear the bottom of the rapid, and when our safety boaters grabbed their ropes, I was afraid he was getting recirc'ed in the hole.  Like the calm and collected person I am, I told the third safety boater that came down "Dan flipped, swam, hit a bunch of rocks, and I haven't seen him since."  Of course, the safety boater tore off downstream, managed to get his boat into the room of doom where Dan P. was stuck (banged up, but otherwise ok), and rescued Dan & his gear.  After watching all of this and trying to calm another member of our group (who had a great like), I made most of the necessary ferry, tried desperately to avoid the hole, got surfed, and swam the moment I was upside down.  If I hadn't been so tired and so nervous, I would have been able to roll after about 5 seconds.

Top of Wolf Creek

The rapids continued that day, meaty III after technical III, and we were all looking forward to the highly-endorsed campsite at the end of our long day.  When we got there, a bunch of rafts were already parked there, enjoying a zero day.  The next campsite was also occupied (complete with one very drunk Pope offering the sacrament of Crown Royal).  After miles of tough paddling, we collapsed into my favorite camp of the entire week:  the river curved around this stunning white, sandy beach that slowly gave way to a thin band of rocks before transforming into a pine-laden open sort of woods.  Plenty of tent (and hammock!) space with soft beds of needles.  After two long days of paddling, I was ready for my fancy tortellini and Oreo Jello No-Bake (seriously, No-Bakes are the best thing known to campers).  We had an evening fire, and a chilly, crystal clear night.

Tee-Kem Falls

Thanks to our very long paddle the day before, we only had three miles to make on the fifth day.  Just downstream of our campsite was Wolf Creek rapid, the only actual class IV at our water levels.  Following my spectacular performance the day before, I decided to walk the rapid rather than risk getting my boat pinned.  There was a middle sneak I'm 85% sure that I could have made, but I didn't want to run the hole-filled right line, and I didn't want to get blown into a really, really technical rockfest on the left.  There were only minor rapids until our campsite at Tee-Kem Falls (which apparently can also be a IV at some levels).  Tee-Kem was pretty fun to punch through, especially since I had been taking as many sneaks as possible.  The campsite had another nice beach, with a bunch of boulders perfect for spectating along the rapid.

We were in camp by noon, so we had a perfect day of swimming, fishing, cramming 5-8 people in a double duck, cliff jumping, and generally goofing off.  I swam early off of the duck, possibly knocking everyone else out, after my shoulder gave out mid-stroke.  Though I then got run over by the massive inflatable, the duck's carnage run was 100% worth the scrapes.  Dinner was Mango Chicken Curry with Lentils, which claimed the favorite-meal slot.  Desserts, various snacks, and cut-throat trout were passed around as everybody tried to finish off their excess food.  We had another campfire, another chilly night, and the Milky Way was blazingly bright when I woke up around 3am.

Impending Doom

The last day was bittersweet.  I needed a couple more days to really switch into wilderness mode, but the trip had been spectacular.  We drove out of the forest, said our goodbyes to the group in Missoula, and set out on our long drive home.

The view from my hammock the last night

Though I spent a lot of time on this trip trying to figure out if I should continue kayaking (or give up my forever-rookie attempts and switch over to paddle rafting with Ali), I couldn't have asked for a trip along a better stretch of river, and I can't imagine going on a river with better companions.

Our Flotilla

For more pictures and a second opinion, check out 1000daysbetween.com.  That Hoofer has also come out with a book that you can find on Amazon.

Rafting the Beautiful Wolf River + Wausau

Every summer, I try to make it up to the Wolf to go rafting.  Section IV meanders through Menominee tribal land which means (a) the forest is spectacular and (b) any yahoo can hop in an unguided raft and float through class III-IV rapids.  Said yahoos don't typically understand the importance of PFDs and helmets, and many of the rafters are often 100% fueled by booze.  Needless to say, there have been some pretty major accidents on this stretch of river.

For the past couple of summers, I've tried to turn my annual rafting fun run into a Hoofers How-to-Guide trip.  (This is at least partly inspired by the miserable approach to rafting I see most people take on Wolf IV.)  This year, the stars aligned, and we had a group of eight for the river.  Getting out of Madison turned into quite the debacle, but once we threaded our way through a bunch of delays and a ton of deer, the northwoods were ready for us.

We woke to stunning weather Saturday morning - highs in the mid 70s, sun, and only the occasional light headwind.  The wildflower carpet that was around over Memorial Day had disappeared from the banks of the river, but some more brightly-colored flowers were coming in (including one lady slipper - the first I've seen in Wisconsin).  There weren't too many other patrons down at Shotgun Eddy's (one of two rafting companies that operate on Wolf IV), and nobody was fall-down drunk (yet).  We got on-river pretty quickly, and the other Hoofers picked up the basics of steering in no time.

Wolf IV is a pool-drop run (meaning there are nice calm spots between each of the big rapids), so we were able to scout almost everything.  We had one flip at the bottom of a less-substantial rapid (1/2 of the crew was hiding in the bottom of the boat instead of paddling and none of the crew high-sided when the raft got surfed), but nobody botched any of the big drops on the river.  By the end of the river, we even had a couple people that were starting to look and sound like commercial guides!

Ali guided us through a darned-near perfect line on Big Smokey Falls this year.  I still have yet to guide a good run on that rapid.  In fact, whenever I'm steering, we usually end up running the drop backwards.  (Maybe I just hate being dry at the end of the day.)

Sunday, three of us headed to the Wausau Whitewater Course, a really awesome dam diversion channel turned slalom/freestyle paddling park.  The first time I went to Wausau, I was pretty nervous and couldn't get into any of the surf waves (mind you, I didn't really want to be in any of the surf waves, which tends to make surfing difficult).  This time, I had a giant boat (which I'll be taking to Idaho) and a much, much more trusted roll.  Ali and I ran the course a couple of times and tried surfing in several holes near the bottom of the course (the easier ones).  While neither of us are very good at freestyle kayaking, both of us were improving by leaps and bounds.  (Just to give you an idea, this is surfing/freestyle kayaking at it's best and this is about the best that I can do.)

Just one more month (and one more planned boating trip) before the Selway!

It's Summer!!!

My posts have been pretty sparse during this long, cold spring.  After the Birkie, Ali and I had several more weekends of XC skiing and one local downhill ski trip.  The snow started melting in mid-late March; we had several weeks of rain in April; and the ice cleared off the lakes in early May if I remember correctly.  (Lake Superior is still chock-full of ice, and the Porkies still have patches of thigh-deep snow.)

During the melt and rain, we mostly stayed huddled in the apartment, but every now and then we'd get a good weekend for a hike/bike.  Thankfully, the past couple weeks have been stunningly warm and sunny.  We've been getting our (newly acquired - thanks Mom!) hammocks out, and as of Memorial Day, Lake Mendota is finally warm enough to take Hoofers' gear out (55F water temps).

Over the holiday weekend, we were up on the Pike, Peshtigo, Wolf and Red rivers for the annual Hoofers trip.  I think both Ali & I were feeling a bit rusty, but we both still managed to level up in the Hoofers rating system.  (Our rolls have vastly improved, but we both made some pretty rookie mistakes over the weekend.)

This year's trip included my first kayak descent of Wolf Section IV, and the water level was just about perfect.  There were a few sticky hydraulics, but the rocks were all covered, and the lines through the rapids were clear cut.  Granted, I still managed to swim above the last falls of the run, but I swam to the river bank before getting into any trouble.

Also for the first time in a while, the Hoofers trip ran perfectly.  Everybody got up and ready in a timely fashion; dinner got a head start every evening; and the groups were kept running pretty tightly on-river.

I'll have to try to get a few more good boating trips in before I head to Idaho later this summer; probably another Wolf IV trip, and if my schedule can handle it, maybe even a trip down to the Ocoee.

Pics are here: 
https://www.flickr.com/photos/60732531@N00/sets/72157644470122770/

Wausau Whitewater Course + WW Fall Colors

Surfing Tandem Kayak

The past two weekends have been full of pretty good weather and pretty good whitewater (for early autumn).  Sept 21-22 was the final recreational release at the Wausau Whitewater course a few hours north of Madison.  Wausau has over a dozen features (i.e. play waves, holes, etc) that were constructed in a diversion channel just off the Wisconsin River.  It was designed with slalom in mind, and while they do host plenty of slalom training and a few races every year, the recreational releases have to attract the largest number of kayakers (who want to playboat) out of all of their events.  There were hundreds of boaters at Wausau for the final release and that was even after GauleyFest had pulled a bunch of the regulars away.  Who woulda thunk so many whitewater boaters exist in the upper midwest?

Surfing (Pic stolen from a fellow Hoofer)

I've been hoping to get over to Wausau for a few years now, and since my roll is finally where I want it to be, I decided I was ready.  (The main problem with a place like Wausau is that if you swim, you tend to swim the entire course.  While it's a really safe place to swim - lots of fellow boaters, super-clean drops, easy road access - it's not very fun  knocking 15 people off of their waves on the way down.  Anyhow, after a few warm-up rolls, I pulled into the current, and spent the next several hours failing to get into waves very well.  When I shied away, the waves pushed me downstream, and when I went charging in, I got pushed out by the hole in short order.  Not that it's much of a surprise, but I am a really shoddy surfer.  I hope to work on that next season.

Big Drop

Though the morning was brisk, the sun came out around lunch time, and everybody got much more comfy.  We ran a few laps down the length of the course, and while that was spectacularly fun, I got dehydrated and tired pretty quickly.  Next time I'm up there, I'm definitely going to play the eddies around Big Drop (super, super fun) and Little Drop (super, super good for loops and flipping people) more.

Misicot Falls

This past weekend, Ali and I went up with the Hoofers to Piers Gorge on the Menominee River and the Red River near Gresham, WI.  There were enough people (25!), that we ended up splitting into two groups.  The beginner boaters checked out Quiver Falls on the Menominee the first day and the Red on the second.  Advanced boaters got their pick between Piers Gorge on one day or Wolf IV on the other. 
I went up to Piers Gorge last year; it's another park-and-huck section with three rapids within a half mile of river: Misicot Falls, the Two Sisters, and Terminal Surfer.  In the past, I've avoided Misicot.  The 6-10' drop itself is rowdy-looking, but not really that tough.  Just downstream of the drop, the current pushes straight into a nasty, undercut boulder named Volkswagon.  If you flip at the hole in the bottom of the falls, you have one chance to roll and then you're going to slam into the rock.  If you're too slow getting into an eddy, you're going to slam into the rock.  This trip up, I was determined that I would not slam into the rock.
We put on pretty late, thanks to some typical hoofer logistics, and I followed one of the better paddlers down to the lip of the rapid.  The notch we had to hit was pretty easy to find, but I was so focused on avoiding the rock downstream, I let myself get spun around before hitting the big hole below the drop.  I paddled into it pointy-end first (and backwards), surfed out of it, got my bearings, and eddied out on river right before the rock.  Though the ideal line was to catch the eddy on river left, I was still pretty pleased with my run.

Monastery on the Red (Pic from another Hoofer)

Unfortunately, I had zero focus just past Volkswagon and got to practice my roll.  From there, the meaty line of the Two Sisters was great, and Terminal Surfer was easily avoided.
We ran the "gorge" two more times.  I skipped Misicot the remaining few times to save on the hike, and I had a prime seat for a bit of not-as-bad-as-it-could-have-been Volkswagon carnage.  The water levels were rising for (I assume) peak electricity production as the afternoon progressed toward evening.  Volkswagon got padded out, but the Second Sister (which I was having a blast charging through) certainly got stickier.
A bunch of rain moved in just as we headed back to camp, and though we got back at dusk, the other group was MIA, and they had the bulk of our food.  We chopped some stuff and boiled some water, and an hour later, the other group arrived.  We all gorged ourselves on tons of pasta, birthday cake, and anything else lying around unclaimed, and right when dinner was done, the rain tapered off.  We hung out by the fire for a few hours, and a couple of brave souls shuffled the boats and gear for the next day.

Didn't have to do too much of this.  (Pic from another Hoofer)

Sunday, we got on the river late (again), but we divided into groups of 4-5 to speed things up on the river.  Turns out, that's an awesome way to get downstream.  The people who wanted to play got a bit of play, and the people who don't like surfing didn't have to sit in an eddy for hours.  This set-up also helped us get people (like me) leading.  Ali and I were in safety-boating/leading for our group, and it was a ton of fun. 
Though the dam started releasing more water right when we pulled up, flow was still on the low side.  That did make the rapids more approachable for our novice boaters, but somebody with a chainsaw needs to get out and clean up some of the strainers.  First drop was simple, if sticky for surfing.  Second drop was practically non-existant; and Double drop became a really forgiving surf.  The two big rapids of the day, Monastery and Ziemers, were pretty friendly too.

Ali on Monastery (Pic from another Hoofer)

Ali got to go down the entirety of Monastery for the first time, and she even got some surfs and (intentional) combat roll practice at the bottom.  Up to this point, nobody in our group had swum, and the one person who flipped got righted from an eskimo rescue in no time.  Ziemers always has a few swimmers though, and this trip was no different.  The last beginner of my group to head downstream broached on a rock and leaned the wrong way early in the rapid.  We got her safely into an eddy just before the last chute, even if the rescue was a little overzealous on my part.  There was one more swim for us downstream, complements of a narrow chute and an overhanging branch.  Even with those swims, everybody had a safe, fun, and quick end to the weekend.

Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore

Lover's Leap

Four months after the fact, we finally headed up nort' for Ali's bday adventure in Pictured Rocks.  Famous as the setting for The Song of Hiawatha and similar to much of the U.P., Pictured Rocks National Lakeshore is glorious.  There are 300+ foot rocks stained by all sorts of minerals (black from manganese, red-orange from iron, green from copper, and white from calcium to name a few), and since the cliffs are largely sandstone, the beaches are pristine and the formations are impressive.

Bridal Veil Falls (from kayaking)

Though we started the 6-ish hour drive from Madison as soon as we could Friday evening, we were stuck in an epic campsite-hunt that kept us up almost to 4am.  There are three nearby forest service campgrounds that take reservations (one of which is on an island only accessible by a 9-5 ferry), but we were hoping for one of the first-come park service sites within the actual Lakeshore property.  All the sites were claimed when we arrived at midnight, and all of the sites at the adjacent state forest were taken, too.  We drove for what seemed like forever to get back to the west side of the park, where we went for a last ditch attempt at a "dispersed" forest service campground.  The road down to the Hovey Lake sites was in miserable shape (at least for our little rental car), and all three sites were claimed.  We drove through again and were headed for the boat ramp to sleep in the car when we remembered reading that Hovey Lake was supposed to have four available campsites.  Lo and behold, 10 meters down the boat ramp drive, there was a parking spot and a picnic table!  We had found our basecamp for a few days!!

Pictured rocks, upholstered rocks...  same difference, right?

Saturday morning, we were up with the chickens (and said chickens are on eastern time in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan) to get into town, get our tires re-inflated, get our backpacking permits for Sunday/Monday, and get to the meeting point for our sea kayaking tour.  Oh, and we also had to find a good spot to pull out our alcohol stove and make breakfast since we were trying to maximize our 3 hours of sleep.  Thank goodness for gas station coffee. 

Kissing Rocks

Once we managed to complete all of our morning errands, we just had to get outfitted and going.  Since we were going through a guide service (waves + stark cliffs + just two not-super-experienced sea kayakers didn't sound good), we ended up with big ol' tandem kayaks and nylon skirts (easier to escape from than neoprene...  also, much more leaky) and ~100 other folks.  They divided us into groups of 5-8 kayaks, but we effectively ruined any group separation there was supposed to be.  Though the morning started out grey and choppy, the sun burned through just in time for our turn-around and lunch.

Mosquito Beach

We got to see some really cool sea caves, "kissing" rocks, baby waterfalls,  and the ever-popular Lover's Leap arch.  Just before Lover's Leap, we were also treated to some crazy teens launching themselves off the cliffs next to this one pock-marked cliff where Ojibwe tribes would supposedly leave enemy chiefs to die in particularly nasty ways. 

Cliff Divers (at the bottom)

Lunch at Mosquito Beach was beautiful and, thankfully, lacking in the beach's namesake critters.  The lake settled in the afternoon, so we got to get really close to the cliffs on the way back.  We had a pretty great swim at the end of the paddle, a good hike around the campground, and a really easy time getting to sleep Saturday night (no thanks to the idiots with some kind of automatic weapon just beyond forest land).

Spray Falls

Sunday, we were up before the sun and were headed to the far side of the park to spot our car for the hike.  We got ourselves together just barely in time for the shuttle, but we managed to get on the trail before 9:00.  The first day, we planned on a rambling 13 miles from the Chapel Rock parking lot, back over to Mosquito Beach, and ending at Pine Bluff (backcountry) campground.  I'm pretty certain that the number of backcountry sites in the park rival the number of frontcountry sites; heck, they may even beat the number of car-camping sites.  We were expecting rain and thunder, and the weather didn't disappoint.  We started off in a super gloom with mild rain.  The canopy sheltered us from the worst of the first storm (out of three, if I remember correctly).  We walked out to Superior along the aptly-named Mosquito River.  Our rain shells helped to shield us from the Minnesota state bird, but lots of DEET and frequent re-applications were still necessary.

Accurate.

There were some nice, miniature falls on the creek we followed, but the best miles were out along the cliffs.  We joined the North Country Trail (a thus unfinished national scenic trail that goes through some of the most bug-ridden parts of WI) out at the actual lake shore.  From there, we got to see Lover's Leap from the east side, Chapel Rock (a really nifty carved out rock that has 3-4 columns and what looks like an altar on top of a pedestal of rock - these columns hold up another platform that's topped by a tree), Grand Portal (a spectacular arch on which we had lunch), Spray Falls (well fed by Beaver Creek), and hundreds of unnamed arches and caves and painted cliffs. 

View from our lunch spot

In addition to the awesome scenery, there were also blueberry shrubs lining the trail - and the berries were at their peak!  We were pretty tuckered out by the time we reached 12-mile beach, but the blueberries were looking even more droopy.  We did our best to ease the bushes' burden all while fueling our last few miles of the day.

 

 

The rain had finally quit by the time we got to camp, but the wind had picked up considerably.  I got our tent set up and kept an eye on our couscous curry while Ali went and bravely flung herself (and our water reservoirs) into the crashing waves of Lake Superior.  Dinner was spectacular, and Tiramisu-Jello (designed by Ali) was a great way to end the evening.  As soon as our food was in the bear locker and our still-sodden clothes were tucked under the fly, we were soundly asleep.

Wind whipping up the waves

Monday's 10-mile hike back to the car was gusty, grey, cool, and much, much faster than Sunday's stroll.  We were in and out of the pine and deciduous patches of woods, hovering by the beach and even more (!!) blueberries than the previous day.  A bit beyond halfway, my ankle started complaining, and an unfortunately chilly lunch made it all the more stiff and uncooperative.  Our trekking poles came to the rescue, and  I hobbled past the first two road crossings without too much trouble. 

Grand Portal from the less-grand side

There was a really cool section of birch forest just past Hurricane Creek.  Though the section of Pictured Rocks we saw was sheltered by Grand Island and largely in a bay, the trees here were as gnarled as some of the woods on less-sheltered Superior coastline.  Unlike certain trees near the Porcupine Mountains' shore, these had an odd sort of majesty.

Falls on the Mosquito River

The terrain was unkind to my weary ankle in the twists and turns near Hurricane Creek, but one more road crossing, and we were back to the beach and our car.  Just as we were packing up, a ranger stopped by to make sure we weren't heading out in such brutal winds.  Hopefully, the hikers we passed mid-trail made it out without incident.

Chapel Rock

A root as big as many trunks connects the tree to the rest of the cliff

Hoofers Go West 2013

The previous five posts document a trip taken by 12 reasonably-to-well experienced Hoofer Outing Club members out in Colorado ("R3s" and up).  The trip was divided pretty evenly between great and not-so-great paddlers, and it was intended to help bring us not-so-great folks up a notch.  (If anything, I might have had a bit more humility pounded into me.  Some of the IIIs that may not have even been IIIs were tougher than the IV-s I've paddled previously!)

You can find info on the rivers we ran at americanwhitewater.org (a great resource for the whitewater community) and info about the club at hooferouting.org.

If you're looking for more/better photos of the trip, try the links below:
Photos from the Trip Leader
Helmet Cam Video
Another Hoofer's Blog

Cache la Poudre (Upper Rustic and Lower Mishiwaka)

Our group made it into the Poudre Gorge around 10pm Thursday evening.  Following a debacle involving a sketchy campground host (who was either senile or running a scam, my  money's on the latter), cars arriving at different times, no cell service, and a delayed food car, we may have set up camp and started cooking by midnight. 

We camped right by the Narrows of the river (some class IV/V+ mank), and we seemed to be right at the top of the old burn line.  Unlike the Royal Gorge area, it was very clear that a fire had impacted the area.  Forest Service personnel have apparently been dumping hay from helicopters and taking on several other rehabilitation projects in an attempt to minimize further damage to the area.

Friday morning, we woke up with the plan to get on the Upper Rustic section of the river (class III/IV).  Looking back at the American Whitewater page, the section was below "runnable" flow by about 130cfs.  We had a slow morning and a tough time finding a non-private stretch of river to use as a put-in, but eventually, we slid into a rocky, strainer-filled river.  The water was dark, and there were clouds overhead, but most of my attention was on getting through the maze of partially-submerged rocks.

At some point, we realized our group of 12 was just too big to navigate such a scrappy river, and we broke into two groups.  Not long after, I experienced yet another bout of poor judgement that resulted in a swim.  I was sandwiched between two great paddlers with a bunch of other people about my skill level, and instead of reading the river for myself, I decided to happily follow the group of people in front of me.  The one problem:  I saw where they were currently floating on the river, but I had been catching an eddy instead of watching how they got down the river.  I blithely followed them river-right of a boulder, into a narrow, shallow passage that I did not successfully navigate.  (Everyone else had gone for the much wider and deeper slot on river left.)  I flipped leaning back, and while I managed to protect my face, my knuckles took a bunch of scrapes.

Mind you, this accident was maybe a half mile into the run.  I decided to pull off since my judgement and abilities were clearly not as good as they should be (and my hand was hurting pretty badly), the leaders shortly encouraged other folks off the river, and after a bit of a scout, nobody wanted to finish the run.  We practiced some more rope team to get the boats up to the road and headed off to Ft. Collins for some choice beverages.

It was not to be.  The rain that started while we were roping boats washed a ton of mud and some really large boulders into the road between our campsite and town.  We returned to camp and ended up hiking and playing cards until dinner.  (It was still a pretty nice, albeit wet, afternoon.) 

On our last day in Colorado, we went down to an easier 3-mile section of the Poudre.  Crews had come through with bulldozers and cleared the road, but we wanted to be close to town and finished early in case the next line of forecasted storms closed the roads again.  After the previous week's bumps and scrapes, I was not half as confident in my paddling abilities.  Though the river was class II and horribly rocky at our level, I was gripping my paddle for dear life the whole run.  (Tightening up is a pretty rookie mistake; if you don't keep your waist and hips relaxed, you aren't able to accommodate the bumps the water throws at you.)

Thankfully, we made it down this stretch with no major problems.  We did break one of the cheap club paddles when it was used to brace a paddler, but the Lower Mishiwaka section was otherwise uneventful.