My alarm goes off at 5 AM, but it doesn’t matter. I’m not getting out of bed for at least another hour or so and I’ve been tossing and turning since 4.
We’re camped just above the first bit of white water of the trip, Winnie’s Rapid. It’s a short rapid that is mostly just the river slamming into a giant rock causing the current to flow around it. I was able to see the rapid the night prior as we did a short hike to Winnie’s Grotto. The line was obvious, but the one thing my brain has latched onto is that rock and the amount of water slamming into it. Rationally, I know the line will be easy to nail, but my subconscious is not being rational.
By the time I make an effort to get out of my bag, anxiety has taken over the situation. There isn’t much I can do. I could get in a big boat, but I don’t consider that option any more than hitting the SOS button and being extracted. Seeing that we are 4 or 5 miles downriver and I don’t even have a vehicle at the put-in, my only option is to button things up and paddle.
I make my morning coffee and boil some ramen for breakfast. This leaves me with nothing left to do but pack up my gear and help rig the big boats. Sometime around 9-9:30, we shove off. It hasn’t helped my anxiety that everyone seems a bit jittery.
Through the Portal
Put-in for this section is at the Lodore Ranger Station. From the boat ramp, the water is calm and serene. The river is wide and flat. Looking downriver, you can see the river entering the canyon. There are two prominant cliffs, one on each side, that appear to be guarding the entrance. I assume this is what Powell was referring to as the gates. The two stone walls are reminiscent of two pillars in a castle wall where the gate would be hung.
The vibe of the group is one of excitement and unwanted patience. Rigging boats is a process and there are two big ones on our trip. The packrafts are readied quickly and then we wait, helping out when we can with the big boats and essentially chomping at the bit to get on the water.
The put-in is the portal taking us from modern time to river time. We are coming from jobs, families, expectations, social media, from a world where an empty second of time is the rarest gem. The frenetic lives we lead come crashing into reality while we sit and wait on the boat ramp. That reality is that we can only move as fast as the river and our “normal” selves can do nothing other than submit to that condition. We sit and wait while we slowly transition to river time.
The River
The morning has a slight chill to it, just enough so that a puffy jacket feels like the right call. The sun is popping on the tops of the canyon walls as we put in. The water is cool but not cold. With the chill and what we assume is going to be a splashy day, I start out wearing Kenny’s dry suit. Mine is safely hanging in the closet at home where I left it when I failed to grab it as the last item on my packing list.
There are a couple of riffles before Winnie’s Rapid. There are a lot of us and we all fall into a duckling formation following Hairball. The riffles have little push and almost no splash. We come around the corner to see the rapid and the giant rock that causes it. The line is obvious and straightforward. The anxiety pushes me to over exert my strokes, but the line is easy. The water slamming into the rock is creating a pillow wave, I would have to try to hit the rock. A few strokes and the tongue pulls me down and through a few small waves and out the other side.
As my rational brain had assumed, it’s an easy rapid. My irrational subconscious is forced to concede the point and even admit that it was fun. It’s going to be a great day.
We paddle a few more Class IIs and a bunch of riffles. Some named and some not, but we all know the big ones that are coming up, Disaster Falls, Triplet and Hell’s Half Mile. The first two being Class IIIs and Hell’s Half Mile being a IV. We had all agreed during our safety meeting that we would scout anything anyone wanted to and that we would absolutely scout those three.
Disaster Falls has an upper and a lower section. The upper is a constriction that creates a pool. The majority of the water heads to the left and through a big wave train. To the right, water is flushed through a few large boulders, a place you would definitely not want to end up in your boat. Far left, there is water more or less calmly flitting through smaller boulders. The group is split. Half paddle the meat and the rest of us use the agility and size of the packrafts to easily skirt the danger on the far left. The big boats only have one option. Everyone makes it through without a problem. The lower stuff is just waves and rocks to avoid.
We have some more river with riffles and small rapids before we hit Triplet Falls. We were told that this one should be scouted and the guidebook claims that it is probably the most technical rapid. The rapid starts with some small waves and then turns, more waves and turns again. We scouted to this turn and everyone felt like it was a nothing burger. Big Dave, who had paddled this rapid a few times, informs us we need to go around one more turn. Yup, there it is. The current slams into the wall on river right and then into a house-sized rock. Between the rock and the wall is the Birth Canal. A channel of water that is wide enough for a person and maybe a packraft, but you would never choose to go there. From above, the water is chaos around this last turn. All the anxiety and stress bubbles right back up.
The Diggers had turned around before the last turn and when I get back to the boats, Shalena can tell that I’m scared. I explain the line, but I’m pretty sure my face was scarier than the scout.
We fall into our duckling line. I’m toward the back. The first turns are easy and I line up to river left to be sure to stay clear of the big fucking rock, but as I come around the last turn, I hear a whistle and see Heather’s boat upside down and she is in the water. I’m a few boaters back from her and I immediately start to digest how to help, but before I can, Cory gets to her and has her hold onto his boat. This puts him far right. I’m watching this happen and trying to navigate the line. He kicks it into four low and somehow, while dragging Heather, paddles from the right back to the left line and pulls her safely through the rapid. Her boat goes into the Birth Canal.
Once out of the rapid, Cory begins pulling her toward the eddy. I get close and try to snag her paddle to help ease the drag he is fighting against. He gets her to a point that she can swim to shore and she lets go. Her boat does not come down the river. It went halfway through the small channel and where there is a small break, the boat hung a left and is now stuck in an eddy behind a big rock. Hairball and Maggie are able to paddle back up to the rock. While Hairball steadies her boat, Maggie scrambles up the big rock and is able to shove the boat back into the main channel.
With Heather, her boat and paddle all reunited, we head toward Hell’s Half Mile.
Hell’s Half Mile is the only Class IV rapid on this section of the river. It was named by Powell during his first expedition. After losing a boat in Disaster Falls (another one named by him), they chose to line their boats down this rapid. A process of tying the boat and slowly lowering it through the fall empty, portaging all their supplies downriver below the rapid and then reloading everything once past the obstacle. The rapid is only about a 1/4 of a mile, but if you were spending your time lowering a boat through that constriction, you’d probably exaggerate its distance as well.
The rapid starts with a giant rock in the middle of the flow creating an eddy. The calm water behind the initial rock is protected by a smaller rock that pushes water to the left before dropping off the fall. This is where things get a little sticky as the best line is definitely right of the big rock in the middle of the first drop. After that drop, there is another one shortly after with a rock dubbed Lucifer sitting dead center. There are lines around both sides of that rock, but you have to make an effort to hit either. In a small packraft, you definitely want to be on Lucifer’s left.
I can see the line and with how the day’s been going have a small level of confidence that I could make it happen. As I am contemplating my life’s decisions, Big Dave picks up his boat and starts to walk around the rapid. He says something along the lines of the downside to me walking this isn’t near as bad as the downside to swimming that rapid. His words put my brain into a rational state. I look at the line, consider my skills and put it at 75% chance that I screw something up and end up swimming off one of those drops. I stand staring at the rapid vacillating on whether it’s worth trying it or not. Then I pick up my boat and follow Dave.
Only five of the packrafters gave the rapid a go. All five nailed the line. Coming past the first big rock, they caught the eddy just behind it to line up for the first drop putting them in a few stroke’s distance of the line to the left of Lucifer. We all regrouped just below the falls and then put back on to finish out the rapid. Once through Hell’s Half Mile, there was a group decompression. Everyone was stoked. We had a swimmer, but Cory made sure everyone was safe and it was an amazing day on the river.
The next couple of days were spent giggling through splashy riffles, hunting holes in less than pushy rapids and just being on the river. The big stuff was behind us and now we had plenty of time to relax and play. We hiked to water falls, drank wine and played cornhole.
Back through the Portal
Our last day on the Green River had two distinct parts. The day started with flat water. A long defined bend in the river took us about a mile from our camp and then turned us back putting us almost right back where we started. The morning was nice and we just floated along. A beaver made an appearance and swam alongside us for close to a mile. After a few hours of meandering river, we made it to Rainbow Park signifying the start of part two.
We stopped for snacks at the boat ramp and there were a couple of commercial day trips putting on. The next section is a splashy, exciting run through the canyon to the takeout. We knew there were a couple of Class IIIs in there, but the Ballers had previously paddled this section and we all planned to just read and run whatever came unless someone felt otherwise.
The afternoon was warm and the splashy water felt nice even without a dry suit. There was a lot of hole hunting happening and the river kept us all plenty engaged for the rest of the day.
The canyon abruptly ends somewhat like it started. The giant walls split to reveal an open beach and it’s like we were passing back through the gates. Then we find ourselves at the takeout. The cement ramp leading to asphalt is the portal back to what we refer to as “real” life. Without the river to dictate our speed and progress, we are all in a rush. The commercial trips are there derigging and we do the same. River Time, which held us for most of five days, is terminated. Big Dave and I have a 7-hour drive, dinner plans are being sorted, the group is splitting up and people are saying goodbyes, there’s a rush to pack the big boats, shared gear is divvied back out to its owners.
And then we jump into our cars and are back to work by 8 the next morning.
Seek Discomfort. Embrace Chaos.
