BANKS!- Part Two

There lies a spirit and a character to every river. The North Fork of the Payette moves in soul of all who have paddled it and it's rumbling presence echos in the memory of all who have been touched by it's waters. Surrounding this river is a community of paddlers united by admiration, respect, and exhilaration found amongst it's violent gnashings.

Myself and Drew drove Northward up Hwy 55 which follows the entire length of the North Fork. We stopped to scout "Crunch" and "Juicer". I tried to imprint the lines in my memory, but knew that once at river level it would be difficult to put together what I was viewing now. I quieted my mind deciding to let go and take each drop as they came. I put aside all preoccupations on lines and focused on maintaining good paddling technique, while following Drew's instruction.

We geared up while the sun was just beginning to create the midday heat. I slowly gearing up and plodded down to the riverside. Drew sat ready with a smile. I took a quick glance at "Hounds Tooth" and jumped into my boat and snugged myself in. The run would begin immediately as we pealed out and I was about to experience my first baptism by the North Fork of the Payette. Within 50 ft we snuck between boulders and I laid the first boof of the day. I landed satisfactorily in a small calm pool. We ferried out into the meat and began the journey.

It began as busy Class IV with waves crashing abound and minor holes with their grip fleeting. Even then, I kept my guard and my paddling focused. Gradually, it appeared that the river increased it's intensity. On a large breaking wave I misplaced a stroke and was reminded that little error was tolerated. I was overturned, but instantaneously found myself rolled and upright. The water's then calmed for minute before we reached Otter Slide.

I had been camping along side this stretch of river and was well familiar with it and felt comfortable as Drew and I rounded the left bend with a few instructions on the line relayed to me. Hugging tight to the river right shore we punched through the a couple awkwardly angled holes before regaining speed. Drew caught a tight right eddy, but I found myself in no way able to enter it and continued onward. A head of me, I felt calm and picked my way through a run-out of fun class IV whitewater.

We paddled onward and the river migrated closer the the roadway signaling the oncoming onslaught. Ahead lay "Juicer" and I knew the North Fork was about to give me the first real test. We eddied on the river left and went over the line again. I took some deep breaths and Drew asked, "You ready?" I mustered an inexpressive, "Yep", and we ferried out. Ahead on the horizon line I could see water erupting into the sky and dancing in the air....... and then it began.

The world began to warp as the acceleration took hold and the river constricted. The waters reflected off the walls unpredictably and yet ahead the line Drew had explained began to unfold before me. Following a raging ramp of water, bordered by two looming laterals, I worked from river left to right. As the ramp closed in on me quickly and punched river right temporarily blinded as I was blasted by the force of the lateral. The world continued to accelerate and strokes became instinctual and the battle became primal in nature. Another lateral came on my left and forced me further right and I fought it off. Ahead on the right  I caught a glimpse of large wall of holes ahead of me on the river right. I began working furiously to the left. But the river offered no mercy. Desperately fighting left, I found the the meat of the crashing holes still loomed in my path. I resigned to the river and stopped fighting. I turned my boat into a less vulnerable position... and faced my licking head on. A large blast of water beat against my chest brutally and a white blindness enveloped me as I braced. When I could see again I found that I had been typewriter-ed back on line and was nearer to the river left. Ahead a final large hole lay ahead and I turned and lined up. Another blast of blindness and then I emerged into busy class IV. I was relieved and felt the tremor of adrenaline about me. I found Drew smiling in a nearby eddy and I let out a "whoop" of both catharsis and excitement.

We paddled on, and only one last challenge remained. A short ways downriver we again sat in a small eddy above "Crunch". We peeled out with after a simple conversation of the line. We ferried to the river left and immediately found myself instinctively boofing a large irregular hole near the river right bank, meanwhile Drew sat in a eddy grinning as I blew by it. I was on my own to find the lines. I followed the water ahead and fought back to the river left charging through a few large and blinding holes. Atop the peaking waves, I surveyed my line an continued along the left bank. Multiple sets of holes blasted my vision and slowed my momentum as I fought on. The river eased and I began to feel the elation pulse through me. The worst was behind me. The waters of the North and South fork converged as we took to the shore and dismounted are boats. A tremor lay in my hands and knees as the adrenaline persisted in my blood and fueled a wide smile.

For the remainder of the afternoon I took it easy cooling myself from the summer heat with dual playboat runs on the main with companions. I slept that night soundly dreaming of days ahead. Banks quieted over the next days. Yet I found another paddler to run the Canyon of the South Fork of the Payette. The next morning I met up with Drew and again ran the Lower Five for the second time. My nerves calmed and I began to relax on the lower five and began to feel the rhythm of the river.

The day after, I rested  myself waking late in the morning and attending to my usual cholesterol laden breakfast. My new friend Brian Ward sat down at my table and I looked up to see Eric Boomer sit down beside him. Inhaling my breakfast, I chatted with Boomer for a bit outside the cafe as I had nothing but time and he awaited a ride Northward to McCall. It was refreshing to chat with a professional paddler whom I had only seen in magazines, and yet found him to be humble, down to earth, and devoid of egotism.

By the time the Friday prior to labor day rolled in, Banks was getting busy. Paddlers from all over the nation flocked to the Payettes for their vacation. In the Cafe I ran into Emily and we hit the Staircase section and Main Payette before retiring to spectating the local crew running the entire North Fork.

I ran the Lower Five one last time before the crowds of paddlers clogged the Banks parking lots. With the few days remaining I decided my time amongst the Payettes had come to a close. I reluctantly said goodbye to new friends and on my last eve we sat by the light of headlamps, and I sung a few playful songs accompanied by my ukelele amongst the night's star filled sky.

The next morning I drove slowly home and within a few hours from Banks found myself lonesome for the rivers and friends I had turned from. But the days of my vacation wained and the woe of work hung heavy upon me. I made a last stop in Sun Valley to visit a friend and made the long drive home to Montana.

My journey to the Payette drainage still hangs still vivid in my memory. The spirit of the Payettes still tugs at strings of my soul. Meanwhile, to the community of people who feast in the bounty of the Payettes: I am ever thankful for welcoming kindness.

BANKS! - Chapter One

 The headlights dimly shown on the winding road, while outside, the mountains’ silhouettes rose as blackened shadows in the night. The moon’s fractured reflection lit the river, who had etched its path through the mountains, and the road obediently followed beside it. There stood no sign to mark my arrival in Banks Idaho, only the confluence of rivers now shining in the darkness. Weary from my long drive, I parked the truck, crawled into the topper, and descended into slumber.

Having recently moved into my new home of Billings Montana, I found myself in the thralls of my medical residency. Which meant I was thrust into 70 hr work weeks amidst overwhelming challenges of learning the art of medicine. My life became singularly absorbed, meanwhile the other facets of my soul thirsted for time on the water. When my vacation was forced to be taken in the final days of August, my eyes unquestioningly turned towards the Payette drainage of Idaho.  And so in my slumber, I washed away my responsibility and for 10 days to come I would be unreachable by the outside world.

The morning light tugged at my eye lids and they slowly opened to the greet the beginning of my 10 day freedom. Beside me ran the Main Payette River gently rolling by. Following it upstream, I came upon the Banks cafe. In search of fellow paddlers, I stepped into its welcoming doors, sat down at the counter, and ordered a hearty breakfast. Across from me a small group of friendly folk made preparations to paddle. Within one sentence of asking where they were to paddle, I found an invitation for a day’s worth of paddling and new found friends.

I found myself in the good company of Brian and Emily as we slipped into the waters of the South Fork of the Payette river and began paddling what is known as the canyon section. Reaching from from the rivers edge abruptly rose the mountains and their slopes were thickly laden with conifers. As we made or way through the class III and IV whitewater, I sat mesmerized with the clarity of the water and paddled backwards transfixed by the racing river bottom. The cold river waters where met by the steaming of several hot springs along the way. My comfort on the water grew steadily throughout the day. By late afternoon we put on the Main Payette river for yet more moderate whitewater, and from my play boat I enjoyed the rapids offered smiling in the cool waters amongst blue skies and great company.

South Fork of the Payette

As the sun was falling into the western horizon,  Emily, Brian, and I skidded down the raft ramp and playfully launched for a late run on the "staircase section" of the South Fork of the payette. In the shadows of the mountains and the waning daylight we made our way through more beautiful whitewater and soon only the white of the water and whites of our smiles seemed visible amongst the newly risen moon's light. We quietly glided into the confluence of the of the Payettes. Trailing the tail lights of my companions vehicle, I followed them to camp a wooded camp. With hunger quenched and my clothes smelling of campfire, I lay my head to sleep. In my dwindling consciousness, I could hear the roarings of the North Fork of the Payette. Yet even now, I had not witnessed it's gnashings and had only heard the lore of it's infamy. In my dreams the river whispered to me.

I awoke to a quiet morning, the camp empty, as my friends had departed in the first rays of the morn. I stretched the sleep from my body and slowly drove down to Banks Cafe.

 

 Banks Cafe

After eating what become my usual cholesterol endowed breakfast, I came to find Banks rather devoid of paddlers as the weekend had passed. By noon I had scraped up a group to paddle down the Main for my singular run of the day. By the time I had left the river,  Drew Beezly from Durango invited me to run the Lower Five of the North Fork of the Payette in the coming morning. I was reluctant at first, as I was planning a more gradual progression for myself. But I finally concluding I could wait no longer and accepted the invitation. I spent the remaining hours of sunlight along along the banks of the The North Fork, scouting and planting the lines in my head. My analysis was only halted by looming darkness. My headlights lit my dusty place of rest for night as the "Otter Slide" of the North Fork lay below me. After dinner warmed my stomach, I wandered down the twinkling firelight on small island amongst the waters of the North Fork, I exchanged introductions and laughter amongst good company. There we sat awaiting the arrival of a mutual friend. Andy McMurray was the first paddler I had ever met amidst surfing the waves of Minnesota's Lake Superior, and in the Northwoods we both grew from our paddling infancy. A honk of the horn in the night signaled his arrival, and the night was spent in good cheer amongst old and new friends.

I didn't sleep well that night, along the shores North Fork. The river's song kept me awake both in excitement and in apprehension. I awoke to my usually routine of two pancakes, bacon, an a side of has browns, but on this morning, couldn't finish my breakfast as my stomach had other things on it's mind. At the Bank Cafe found a well wishes on my first run of the North Fork as Emily whisked in and out the cafe in route to the other Forks of the Payette. Later I sat down with Andy and Liz Powers for a bit of catching up, before I stepped into the blinding light as the sun baked the dusty parking lot. I found Drew eagerly awaiting. I readied for battle with  for my first introduction to the North Fork... (to be continued)