With the floodwaters of two weeks ago still running down New England rivers, especially dam-controlled ones, I was looking for one last time on the river before winter. I hooked up with the Contoocook group again, minus Ron, who was unfortunately out of commission for kayaking after hurting his shoulder on the beginner reunion trip, in addition to already being out of commission for hiking due to knee and ankle problems. Poor guy.
Anyway, the trip was the Piscataquog, just outside of Manchester, NH. It was a 2.5 mile trip, starting at 10 AM. I had to be in Waltham at 2 PM for a meeting for a group project for school, but with the short trip not too far away, I thought I could squeeze in one last whitewater fix.
Well, the plans didn't work out too well for numerous reasons. Daylight savings ended the night prior, so I decided to stay up for the extra hour. It ended up being a little more than an extra hour, so I was a little tired the next morning. Also, it took a little longer to get there than I expected, so it was 10:45 by the time we finished the shuttle and got going.
I didn't waste any time flipping, getting swamped surfing a wave in sight of the put-in. I rolled, but overdid trying to "save" it, doing a full 360 back into the water.
There were a few more tough rapids, including one ledge that extended from river left to the center where there was a nasty looking hydraulic. We pulled out on river left just before this, and I decided to ferry out to the other side, avoiding the ledge completely and getting to the other side of the hydraulic. I flipped on the ferry and ended up swimming, but I was relieved and surprised when I made it through to the right of everything. I also managed to flip turning into an eddy, which was a first,--I guess I was just tired--but rolled that time.
We got to a bridge a little past halfway and it was about 12:40. Unfortunately, I had to get out and hitch to the takeout to make it to my meeting. After about ten cars went by, I gave up holding my thumb out and was just jogging when an old boater picked me up.
I made it back by 2, but the meeting had been canceled and I had not received the email saying so. It was kind of a frustrating end to a subpar trip. Next year I'll use the extra hour for sleeping.
10/30/2005
10/16/2005
W. Branch Farmington
The W. Branch of the Farmington River in the southern Berkshires of Massachusetts runs for two weekends in mid-October at the drawdown of a reservoir on a tributary. The drawdown release is 250 cfs and the normal run at that level is quite scratchy and technical. Well, this year, it rained for about two weeks straight prior to the drawdown. The weekend before I went, it was running 8000 cfs, flood stage. It went down early in the week, but still was well above 250 and started going up again Thursday and Friday when it started to pour once again. On Saturday, it was at 1750 cfs, seven times the normal level, and it was quite an adventure.
Because of the high level, we were able to put in high above the normal put-in and also above where the drawdown water from the tributary comes in. The rapids in this section were not terribly difficult, but the paddling was interesting. First we went through flooded out marshes, with the occasional easy drop. Then the river narrowed to no more than 30 feet across and entered the woods. It was obvious that it was way over its normal banks because it felt like we were going through the woods on a wide aquatic trail. There were no carved banks apparent, just the pine-needled forest floor on the sides. There was one interesting s-turn rapid in this stretch, with a pretty good gradient.
Pretty soon, the river opened up, and we were at the normal put-in. We went around a couple of easy bends and were told by our leader, Harland, an open boater, (the only one who had done this section) that there was a tricky spot coming up and to follow him. I was second in line behind Harland but did not do a good job of following him for myself and the three people behind me. At the aforementioned spot, he went to the river right side but I was a little too far towards the center. By the time I realized my mistake, it was way to late to avoid a huge hole. I tried to punch it, and made it about halfway up the foam pile before I started to slide back. The next thing I knew, my bow was on top of me as it flipped me bow-over-stern. I set up to roll, but I was in the middle of a wave, so my hands were still in the water, so I wet exited. (A side note: this is also how I ended up swimming on the West, panicking because I tried to set up in the middle of a wave and wet exiting instead of waiting to get out of the wave to roll. I need to work on this.)
I had a long, tumultuous swim. I banged into several rocks, escaping with only minor bruises. Also, the current ripped off one of my neoprene socks and I stupidly let go of my paddle. Artemis, a kayaker behind me who also flipped in the hole but rolled, chased after my boat and in the course of catching up to it, saw my paddle close by and grabbed it out of the water, for which I am eternally grateful. (The paddle cost 35% the price of the boat--not cheap at all). The sock was a lost cause.
After about a quarter of a mile of swimming, I finally made it to shore, where I learned that Artemis and another had rolled and another had swum as well thanks to my poor following job.
Nothing remarkable happened the rest of the way to the takeout, just more class II rapids with beautiful fall colors on both sides. Our takeout was just above a slalom course, which marks the beginning of the class III-IV section.
We headed back to our campsite at the end of this section to eat lunch before continuing from there where the river mellows back out to a II-III. On the way, we stopped at one of the roadside rapids, Decoration Rock, a 4-foot drop between a rock and the right bank. We witnessed an open boater flip right before the drop, then quickly grab a rock on the bank as his canoe went over the fall. It was a pretty impressive save and a microcosm of how the III-IV section was running.
At lunch, I said I was content to skip the afternoon run, provided we would do that section on Sunday, hoping to take a nap not having slept well the night before due to a cold. Others were pretty worn out from the morning run as well and because of that fact and the reports we were hearing about lost boats and people from the III-IV section, so we decided not to paddle that afternoon.
Instead, we recovered some boats and people. The canoe we witnessed going over Decoration Rock without its adroit paddler had lodged on a rock several miles below Decoration Rock, one of its ends having smashed on another rock. We set up a belay system so that someone could walk out to it carefully and hook it to a rope to bring it back to shore and recover the spare paddle and dry bags in it. We also retrieved a kayak that had run aground on a midriver island nearby, a more tricky operation because there was more current between it and the shore than there was with the canoe. During this time, we saw a group of kayakers go through and we decided to beat them down to the last rapid on the section, Bear Trap, aka Bear's Den and Bear Claw, a class III at normal levels.
It was a IV that day with all the extra water. It was cool to watch them maneuver through the channels, catch air off the huge waves and see one of them throw a clutch roll just before the final drop.
I did get a nap in before the buffet dinner at the nearby ski area. Topics of conversation at dinner included the carnage of the III-IV section, the (un)runnability of Decoration Rock in an open boat and how it was believed that someone got lost just below the slalom course. It certainly was an incredible day.
Sunday, we put in at the normal spot, quickly coming to the site of my big swim. The level was down to 1250 cfs (only five times the normal level!), but I stayed far enough to the right to avoid the hole. Artemis did go through it though, and made it upright after a brief struggle.
After lunch, we ran the forgone section of the day before, though most of the group stopped before Bear Trap. This section started right at our campsite with a pretty good-sized rapid, for which I had had sometime to study and come up with a line. I wanted to go right to left, avoiding some rocks and holes on river right, then move back to center to avoid a big hole on river left just before a bend to the left. It didn't work. It was pretty pushy, so I ended up staying to the right the whole way, which required punching several holes in quick succession. I made it through, but it was the toughest line possible, maybe a class III route through a class II rapid. After some more fast rapids, the run and the trip was over. It was an incredible time, well worth the 50-miles of bumper-to-bumper on the Mass Pike on the way out (when is it ever jammed solid past Sturbridge?) The Farmington runs every fall, but I feel quite lucky to have been able to run it at that level in my first year of paddling.
Because of the high level, we were able to put in high above the normal put-in and also above where the drawdown water from the tributary comes in. The rapids in this section were not terribly difficult, but the paddling was interesting. First we went through flooded out marshes, with the occasional easy drop. Then the river narrowed to no more than 30 feet across and entered the woods. It was obvious that it was way over its normal banks because it felt like we were going through the woods on a wide aquatic trail. There were no carved banks apparent, just the pine-needled forest floor on the sides. There was one interesting s-turn rapid in this stretch, with a pretty good gradient.
Pretty soon, the river opened up, and we were at the normal put-in. We went around a couple of easy bends and were told by our leader, Harland, an open boater, (the only one who had done this section) that there was a tricky spot coming up and to follow him. I was second in line behind Harland but did not do a good job of following him for myself and the three people behind me. At the aforementioned spot, he went to the river right side but I was a little too far towards the center. By the time I realized my mistake, it was way to late to avoid a huge hole. I tried to punch it, and made it about halfway up the foam pile before I started to slide back. The next thing I knew, my bow was on top of me as it flipped me bow-over-stern. I set up to roll, but I was in the middle of a wave, so my hands were still in the water, so I wet exited. (A side note: this is also how I ended up swimming on the West, panicking because I tried to set up in the middle of a wave and wet exiting instead of waiting to get out of the wave to roll. I need to work on this.)
I had a long, tumultuous swim. I banged into several rocks, escaping with only minor bruises. Also, the current ripped off one of my neoprene socks and I stupidly let go of my paddle. Artemis, a kayaker behind me who also flipped in the hole but rolled, chased after my boat and in the course of catching up to it, saw my paddle close by and grabbed it out of the water, for which I am eternally grateful. (The paddle cost 35% the price of the boat--not cheap at all). The sock was a lost cause.
After about a quarter of a mile of swimming, I finally made it to shore, where I learned that Artemis and another had rolled and another had swum as well thanks to my poor following job.
Nothing remarkable happened the rest of the way to the takeout, just more class II rapids with beautiful fall colors on both sides. Our takeout was just above a slalom course, which marks the beginning of the class III-IV section.
We headed back to our campsite at the end of this section to eat lunch before continuing from there where the river mellows back out to a II-III. On the way, we stopped at one of the roadside rapids, Decoration Rock, a 4-foot drop between a rock and the right bank. We witnessed an open boater flip right before the drop, then quickly grab a rock on the bank as his canoe went over the fall. It was a pretty impressive save and a microcosm of how the III-IV section was running.
At lunch, I said I was content to skip the afternoon run, provided we would do that section on Sunday, hoping to take a nap not having slept well the night before due to a cold. Others were pretty worn out from the morning run as well and because of that fact and the reports we were hearing about lost boats and people from the III-IV section, so we decided not to paddle that afternoon.
Instead, we recovered some boats and people. The canoe we witnessed going over Decoration Rock without its adroit paddler had lodged on a rock several miles below Decoration Rock, one of its ends having smashed on another rock. We set up a belay system so that someone could walk out to it carefully and hook it to a rope to bring it back to shore and recover the spare paddle and dry bags in it. We also retrieved a kayak that had run aground on a midriver island nearby, a more tricky operation because there was more current between it and the shore than there was with the canoe. During this time, we saw a group of kayakers go through and we decided to beat them down to the last rapid on the section, Bear Trap, aka Bear's Den and Bear Claw, a class III at normal levels.
It was a IV that day with all the extra water. It was cool to watch them maneuver through the channels, catch air off the huge waves and see one of them throw a clutch roll just before the final drop.
I did get a nap in before the buffet dinner at the nearby ski area. Topics of conversation at dinner included the carnage of the III-IV section, the (un)runnability of Decoration Rock in an open boat and how it was believed that someone got lost just below the slalom course. It certainly was an incredible day.
Sunday, we put in at the normal spot, quickly coming to the site of my big swim. The level was down to 1250 cfs (only five times the normal level!), but I stayed far enough to the right to avoid the hole. Artemis did go through it though, and made it upright after a brief struggle.
After lunch, we ran the forgone section of the day before, though most of the group stopped before Bear Trap. This section started right at our campsite with a pretty good-sized rapid, for which I had had sometime to study and come up with a line. I wanted to go right to left, avoiding some rocks and holes on river right, then move back to center to avoid a big hole on river left just before a bend to the left. It didn't work. It was pretty pushy, so I ended up staying to the right the whole way, which required punching several holes in quick succession. I made it through, but it was the toughest line possible, maybe a class III route through a class II rapid. After some more fast rapids, the run and the trip was over. It was an incredible time, well worth the 50-miles of bumper-to-bumper on the Mass Pike on the way out (when is it ever jammed solid past Sturbridge?) The Farmington runs every fall, but I feel quite lucky to have been able to run it at that level in my first year of paddling.
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