Westward Waters: Day 1

The impending end to the Spring was weighing in my thoughts. Reliance on rains for temporary flooding on the local creeks was fading from possibility. Yet I had two weeks of vacation from medical school banked for an adventure. During weekend outings to the St. Louis River I probed my kayak compatriots for a paddling partner to head Westward for the spring runoff. It'd didn't take long before my friend John delved into the possibility.

The next question became where should we go. The possibilities were narrowed to the legendary waters of Idaho or the classic runs of Colorado. Given the logistics and distance we decided that Colorado would give us the most bang for our buck given the short amount of time we had available. So we researched the and made our tick list. John having paddled Colorado previously had a much better idea of what and where to paddle... alas I remained fair fluid in my expectations and was trusting of going where-ever.

We awoke in the darkness at 4 am and began driving south. The time passed with little effort and the miles seemed to pass quickly. As we approached the front range of the Rocky Mountains we check the trusty iPhone for the river levels. The levels had been steadily rising throughout the week, but now the level had risen to what seemed significantly high levels. Given our naivety we figured that we had nicely timed are trip with the peak of the spring runoff. Anxious to get on the river we headed towards Denver knowing that Clear Creek was the closest, best quality, and most reasonable run to start off with.

So after 15 hours of driving I found myself putting on my dry suit and looking at the river ahead. It was clear to me that the type of water I was about to encounter was beyond my realm of experience thus far. With a touch of Beta from the local we pushed off to run Upper Clear Creek. It was said to be a class IV/IV+ run and we were more than comfortable with that level of paddling, but had a degree of apprehension due to the river level being very high.

Picture this with twice as much water... Clear Creek

Pushing ahead we took turns who would boat scout and run the major rapids. The character of the water surprised me immediately. It was voluminous whitewater flowing through fairly narrow and constricted river beds laden with boulders weaving amongst the Mountains. Unlike the Midwest, it was rare if the hull of boat even brushed a rock. The speed of the water was new to me, given the amount of water, it continually charged along at a pace I was not used to. There was little need for forward propulsion and more need for maneuvering. The moves were more oriented towards punching through crashing waves and holes while generally avoiding nastiness.

My eyes had not been accustomed to reading this form of whitewater and my eyes widened in viewing the first Class IV drop. And yet sailing through each rapid it became apparent that the looks were deceiving and were more reasonable than my eye had viewed them. As we neared the end I became impressed with my fatigue, the whitewater proved to have few moments of rest due to it's continuous nature and small washed out eddies to recover. If you were forced to swim there was a high likelihood you may never see you kayak again as it washed downstream. We finished the run with little incident and I emerged smiling from my first baptism in the water's of Colorado. We retreated to a friend and paddler's place in Denver and set about deciding for the days ahead or future rivers.

While devouring dinner we were informed of the river conditions. We knew that the water levels were extremely high, but had come to find that they were some of the highest levels that portions of Colorado had seen in over a decade. Heat had come to Colorado incredibly early as the week had held multiple days of temperatures in the 90's. River's that were once relatively tame raged with a vengeance. As I went to sleep that night it became clear to me that the waters of Colorado were not going to be a gentle initiation, but an onslaught.... a trial by fire!

The Kettle River and Surfing Lake Superior

Carving it up at the end of a good ride on Lake Superior

Having a three day weekend away from medical school, I decided to take full advantage in reclaiming my former state of being. I was dead set on finding somewhere to paddle whitewater this weekend and dusting off my kayak. My initial plans to travel to Canada for whitewater fell through and made way for even better plans.

A group of us decided to check out the Kettle river to see if it was worthy of some play. When we got there, things looked very good. Before long we were sliding down the icy road to the put in. After the first hour of paddling I began to feel comfortable again with the water. It was relaxing to get back on a few river waves and surf/spin again. We also hucked off a minor 3 ft falls in an inadequate attempt to satisfy a hunger for some river running. After three hours of river play happily exhausted we packed it up and drove home.

Bursting out onto the face of a descent size wave

The next morning the wind was howling and the surf on Lake Superior was up. Sleepily, I slowly awoke over the next 3 hours, and headed out to the lake around noon. When I arrived at Lester river there were cars park everywhere and wet suited surfers abound. Over the next three hours I battled the wind and caught beautiful 4-7 ft waves. It was great to be back bouncing down the face of a good wave, catching long rides, and carving on some curlers. What was a gloomy sleet ridden and blustery day for others, was a gorgeous day of paddling for myself and fellow paddlers/surfers.

Playing on the green water after this one crashed down on me

It was a fulfilling weekend that put me back in touch with the world that I enjoy so much. It is good to be reminded again, as sometimes I slowly forget in the bustle of med school what it is I cherish. I was given a bit of a boost, maybe even a lightness of step, but not to be overlooked.... a smile for the week ahead.

Fall Floods and Surf

It was not convenient, that as I began medical school, the sky poured forth and the rain began to fall again. It rained almost daily and created flood stage conditions that could not be left aside by any kayaker. As the storms of October first came in the blew steady winds to the shores of Duluth. The waves swelled and there was surf to be had. I first learned to kayak and roll in big surf, and was almost a comfortable homecoming to be back in it . I got out on park point first where 5 footers where rolling in with. I was intent upon working past the break line and hitting the big rogue waves. My afternoon was highlighted by a 9 ft wave that warranted a whoop as I bounced violently down it's face, and carved into it's curl. I spun out giving it a go backwards and forwards as it took me for a 150 yard ride. That was all I needed one gorgeous ride for the night. I went again a week later to Stoney Point where I was able to hit some more wave filled goodness. I paddled until darkness and lightening from the oncoming storming forced me to make land-fall.

That same week it was time to run some creeks. Most people have creek boats ...made for the task of... creeks. However having put my financial backings into a playboat this year, I put the ever reliable Big EZ up to the task. The six of us boaters decided to warm up on the Knife River. This being my 4 or 5th run of the Knife this year I was pretty familiar with it and had a good time.

A nice little drop on the Knife photo courtesy of Nora

We then decided to step it up a notch and run the Fench River. I had never run the French before, but found it to be a great run. It was a gorgeous river and had many class III slides that made for a good ride. After a run on the French we then decided for a go at Steward River, another unknown river for me. In retrospect, I would have to say that it ranks among my favorite rivers at this point. It is a river with big drops that are just on the edge of my ability level, but alas I feared too much to handle for the Big EZ. They were the kind of drops you portaged around and looked back as you paddled away with the thought just burning inside your brain... "I could have done that drop". Sometimes it's good to leave a challenge for yourself, just waiting for you the next season. We paddled out into Lake Superior in darkness just after twilight and made landfall. It was along and fulfilling day, that ended with a hearty meal and a diet of laughter with friends.

The next morning myself and friend woke up early and hit up the upper St. Louis River at 14, 000 cfs... which is considered BIG WATER. It was incredible, features changed and morphed in unimagineable ways compared to the familiar features I was used to. Often you would have to plan your route through the rapids while on top of a giant roller while losing site of what's ahead while in it's trough at such high water levels. It was better than any roller coaster could offer at the grandest of theme parks. We stopped at a feature entitle "Upstream-Downstream" that at this level created a big surf wave. I jumped in my buddies playboat and went to town. It was a killer run, that kept me hungry for more whitewater

The next weekend I had the burning desire to run the Stoney river. It had a class IV drop, that I had portaged earlier in the season and I was gunning to run it. The Stoney starts up with class III+ right out of the blocks, and after a few drops I was feeling good. We eventually made it to the "Box Drop" which plunged through a narrowed slot to the river 15 feet below. I came over the top of it seeing the horizon line and paddled aggressively knowing there was a descent size hole waiting for me. As ploughed through a rooster tail, my weight was thrown backward as I was blinded by a bursting of water. When I could see again I was on my way for the hole, I dug in deep and attempted to get weight forward as I into it. It turns out that I was thrown sky high into a stern ender, that managed to spit me clear of the hole (which didn't seem dangerously sticky). I quickly rolled up, and raised a fist triumphantly. The rest of the river was more of the same quality river running. It was another great run for the fall season.

The last run of the season; me and Roger surfing 1st Wave

The last day of kayaking for the season was on November 4th, and was a a classic run down the Upper Louie...just to have one more go at it. It was a killer season of paddling, and I await the thaw for continuation of my paddling adventures.

The Summer of Paddling

Time lapse photo of myself "looping"...photo credit: Nora Whitmore

Paddling this summer I would describe as an evolution. So in July I was able to run the St. Louis river down to the swinging bridge which is always exciting endeavor, but had become more and more familiar to me. By mid July the drought had fully set in, the weather was hot with lot's of sunshine but some water needed to fall from the sky.... desperately. The paddling thereby literally dried up except.... during a Wausau Whitewater Park release. So it came to be that I drove Wausau and got to work on some playboating.


Wausau improved my boating dramatically, by giving an opportunity working on a lot of the fundamentals of paddling that playboating demands. Most memorable was the Midwest Freestyle Championships. My intention was to just gets some paddling in and to avoid any competition. But after some encouragement, and a good sunny day in the park with a awesome borrowed Jackson All star boat under me (courtesy of the Schroeter family!), I caved and signed up for the competition. I awoke the next day to a cold dreary day. Before long I was up to paddle in the competition. To all non-paddlers, the way a freestyle comp works is that you get a set amount of time to jump in the play feature and throw down your sickest moves in your bag of tricks...(which isn't all the big for me). So there I am trying hard to not look like a fool, and would maybe pull off a spin before getting flushed. So with 9 sec left on the clock I jump in the hole to go big with the only respectable trick I can really attempt...a loop (AKA front flip). So I dive the bow, whip my weight forwards.... there's a moment of disorientation, but seconds later I find myself upright with some noise from the crowd....apparently I pulled it off!

kudos to Nora Whitmore for this shot of me looping this summer

The remainder of the day I had a smile as I shivered all day in the 55 degree temps and constant drizzle in wet paddling clothes and watched the rest of the comp. That night after an evening with friends, to my shock... I learned I had made the final round of competition and would have to be up early in the morning to go through another round. In the comp I pulled off another loop.... it was good to see some consistency in boating. I ended up buying the Jackson All Star a week later, I guess it got me hooked.



Aside from Wausau there was also water to be flowing in Canada. So myself, Roger Peka, and John went up to Thunder Bay to hit up Crooked Rapids and some wave play action. It was my first experience on a bigger river wave...check out the You-tube video (I'll be providing better quaility soon). We also met a local named Peter who nice enough to bring us to the scenery of the Falls on the Dog river and later took us down for a run on the Kam.

Falls on the Dog River

The summer built my experience and changed my paddling... I miss the the days of feeling so tired I can only sit, stare into a fire, and fall asleep to the sound of a river!

Back at Home: St. Louis River

The day was bright and the sun was high in the sky. The weather had decided that the last 4 days of rest and healing on my part (after my adventures in Wyoming) were to come to a abrupt end. There was no question that I had to get outside. Fortunately I had received a phone invitation to run the lower St. Louis. In a blink of an eye, I was out the font door jumped into friend's awaiting vehicle.


We arrived at river and saw the river was low and exposing rocks and ledges that had previously been underwater. However, the river's level was still inviting to whitewater kayaks. As we geared up, another arrived to join us. The first order of business was "the slot machine", normally a class V narly drop, but in low water was a fun class III slide down a 15 ft waterfall. I made my way into the mini-gorge that preceded it, got into my boat and ran it cleanly. Then we tackled the "ton" drop followed by the 210 drop (Class III) which managed to flip my boat, but I easily rolled upright again. We then paddle a mile through easy rapids and swept through the "First and Second Sisters" without a hitch.

The "First Sister"

At last we reached the "Octopus". It was characterized by first, a nasty class V hole (possibility of injury), then through a couple explosions of class III finally finishing with a cascade over a 15 water fall into a class IV hole with a nasty rock jutting from it's center. So my first order of business was to gather speed and launch myself over and down a water devoid slide to avoid the first and hungry hole. It was then a difficult eddie-ing out into the main flow, which threatened to push you against a rock wall. Having barely avoiding this obstacle I shot through a narrow channel and tangled with the first of the class III explosions, which threatened to swallow my stern and "ender" me (which would end in me being capsized). Then plunged over the cascade hitting my line and avoiding the nasty rocks.

a portion of The "Octopus"

I emerged with more confidence with the experience of tackling some more technical and burly whitewater. It was another joyful day well spent. We walked home talking and wondering what does the rest of the world does for fun....oblivious to our own departure from the ordinary.

Whitewater Kayaking the Knife River

I awoke disoriented at 8:30, with my body asking, "asking why are you awake"?. I sat in confusion for a moment until my mind answered, "Oh, yeah...we're suppose to go kayaking". I quickly got ready, putting on multiple layers of polypro and neoprene. I ran out the door and packed my kayak and paddle into my buddy's awaiting car. Our plan was to surf Lake Superior in our kayaks.

Looking out the window, the dull grey weather accompanied with the bitter cold 20-30 mph winds and scattered rain would ordinarily seem pretty dreary. However, today I sat nervously excited at the prospect of the morning's adventure. As we drove up the north shore it was clear that the waves were breaking and the ice chunks were dissipating from the shoreline.

When we arrived at Stoney Point things didn't look that great...mushy mediocre waves, very cold winds. So we decided to drive up the shore to check out the knife river and see if it was open and run-able. We were pleasantly surprised at the conditions and decided to give it a run.

I got out of the suburban and setup on the grassy shoreline of the river. I nervously got into my boat and slid into the flowing water. I was well experienced at getting knocked about in surf on the big lake, but rivers were a knew thing to me at this point. So I carefully practiced my technique getting in and out of eddies (calm pools usually behind boulders, trees, ice blocks). As we traveled down river I became more and more comfortable paddling through the swells, waves, and "gnarly" class III rapids. It's like a roller coaster ride: cresting over waves, water rushing up and exploding onto and around you, meanwhile passing boulders and ice chunks.

A small drop on the knife river
(picture courtesy of the Lake Superior Stealhead Assoc.)

During our run, I ran into an unexpectedly hungry hole, that gnashed it's teeth and managed to roll my boat. I stayed calm and attempted to roll... the first attempt..... I missed it, my face never reaching the surface. I set up underwater for another attempt to roll up... a rock hit my helmet'd head.....and....... I rolled up! My buddy congratulated me on my roll and me not popping my skirt and aborting from my kayak (a cold and problematic proposition). We merrily continued down the river without snags, managing to surf a river wave or two.

I carried my boat up out of the river and crossed under the highway bridge grinning to myself as I reached our vehicle. It was another day, another adventure, another reason to love the world I live in!

Tommorrow...the waves will still be crashing, the rivers still rushing... and me still smiling.