Rob McKibbin did a first descent of Pinnacle rapid on that run, according to JP’s post on Professor Paddle it was a lot harder than it looks in the video.  I talked with Rob the other day and he said it was not as hard as running Landslide rapid on Robe Canyon at 5’9″, which he did last week for the second time – Landslide being a much longer rapid that for most mortal beings is a portage, especially at that level.

I don’t know everyone in this video but definitely saw Fish, Ellie Wheat, Dave Moroles, Rob McKibbin, and it looked like Joe Howard.  I give Ellie thumbs up for doing this in a small Burn, it’s what I have and we’ve both been checking out creekboat volumes recently – the small is only 63 gallons, that’s 11 gallons less than the medium Burn and it makes a big difference when you’re running beefy drops.

Dave Moroles testing out Lunch Hole on the Skykomish

Scott Henderson posted a really poignant account a while ago on Professor Paddle about how he nearly didn’t make it out of a hole on the Middle Middle run on the Snoqualmie – a mostly Class III run with a pretty easy IV section that most of us Seattle area paddlers are used to bombing after work without too much thought beforehand.

It’s really worth reading the thread – linked to here – not only because he shares a story that is not the easiest to share, but also because of the responses and advice that follows from other paddlers.  Here are some take-homes that I got from it:

Staying and Getting Out of Holes:

Based on this and some other stories I’ve heard, some of the closest calls you might run into could be on “easy”, Class III type water, and/or on a run that you’re really familiar with.  So don’t let your guard down.

If you’re stuck in a hole, balling up and letting yourself go deep instead of fighting the water should help you flush out.

From Scott’s post and one of the responses, it appears that if things go badly enough that you go limp you also have a better chance of flushing out.  (Let’s not kid ourselves, this option really sucks.)

Kyle Kovalik posted something that I’ve heard is also helpful:  “If you can get flat… swim accross the eddy line into the downstream current, rolling your body as you do (from a breast stroke to a back stroke or vice versa). This works best in flattish pourover style holes.”

Practicing swimming in whitewater is a great idea.  Not fun (I personally suck at it and tend to swim 5 times farther than anyone else, not on purpose) but definitely useful.

This isn’t meant to be an exhaustive explanation of how to get out of holes, but I’ve also heard (and kind of experienced when my sprayskirt blew on Lunch Hole on the Sky a couple days ago) that if you’re still in your boat, pulling your skirt and letting your boat fill with water is another way to possibly get out of a hydraulic.

Getting Back in the Game

Anyway, the main thing I got out of Scott’s post and the ensuing thread was not so much how to get out of holes (although that is useful), but more about the mentality of how to approach kayaking in general.  It’s such an intense sport, and when we’re into it we tend to fall in love with it and go full bore.  But, it’s also dangerous enough that we need to always be aware of the risks in order to last in it long term.  The flip side is, if we focus on those too much we’d seriously just stay home – it’s kind of like reading statistics about every innocent soul who pulled out of their driveway and got T-boned by some dummy going 110 miles per hour on a residential street, and then deciding to never drive again.

The reality is there – yes, it could happen (and getting caught in a vicious hole or pinned on some rock is probably way more likely than becoming a cautionary tale in suburbia) – but if you’re going to boat you kind of have to just take that as part of the deal.

Reading the Professor Paddle thread and from conversations with other boaters, it seems that nearly everyone has had a close call at some point and either had to deal with what is pretty much post traumatic fear, or even take some time off of boating to get their head back in the game.  Some of it is pure psychological conditioning (abject terror = very bad, do not repeat), so I thought the advice that John (doggievacation on PP) gave was good even though I overlooked it the first time I read it.  He said:

“… boat when you feel ready and stick to nice, familiar runs.  Make sure you have fun EVERY TIME you boat and steer clear of any drop that makes you feel panicky.  If you can do that, I think you’ll find the worm will fade on its own, but go with your gut and take your time.”

It usually takes time to get over traumatic experiences, and just like acquiring muscle memory for the roll, part of that psychological conditioning involves pure repetition – in this case, of something good.

Anyway, it’s really helpful to be reminded of how easy it is for any of us to become complacent on a run, or accustomed to getting out of hairy situations without too much carnage.  The fact is, the wrong hole at the wrong level, at the exact wrong angle that puts us in the wrong spot could happen to anyone, at any time, so I really appreciate Scott sharing his story.  It applies to all kayakers at any level, and it’s especially helpful coming from the viewpoint of someone who has had a lot of experience on whitewater.

That being said, paddling scared isn’t exactly a huge help either and there’s no way we can foresee everything on the river, so the best attitude is probably a good blend of realistic caution and a healthy dose of  ”Oh, what the heck.”  (I know I tend to focus on the latter because it requires less technical skill.)  Speaking of which, I’ve started dropping into Lunch Hole, a la Dave Moroles and Rob McKibbin.  If these blog posts end unexplainedly, that might be why.

Here’s one of Blair’s videos that shows what a workout a big hydraulic like Lunch Hole can provide, about two thirds of the way through it – it is a super sticky hole in the mid-3,000 cfs range.

Icicle Creek Kayaking - Leavenworth Wa from Skipow Visuals on Vimeo.

This video is mostly Marco Colella and Rob McKibbin (I guess they’re OK boaters ), plus some others including Darren Albright, Dave Moroles, Adrian Wigston, and Dan Patrinellis setting safety.  It’s also a good reminder of how awesome the Leavenworth area is in general, especially in the spring and summer.  When it’s 72 degrees in Seattle and you’re feeling a little bitter because on a sunny day you still feel like you need to take along a sweater for when the breeze kicks up, in Leavenworth you step out of the car into 80 degree weather and a warm, dry wind – not to mention, it’s gorgeous out there.

Last Wednesday when the weather forecasters were calling for a torrential dumping of lowland snow around Seattle I was happy to hear that Dave Moroles was still game for trekking out to the Skykomish for a run – and Rob McKibbin said if we showed up he would have to go, of course.  It turned out to be a great paddle, with not as much snow as forecast but still around a foot at the put-in and around 34 degrees the whole time.

I have to say the gear we have access to these days is just incredible – with six layers stuffed into a Goretex dry suit, a skull cap underneath my helmet and some Glacier Gloves (my absolute favorite), I actually rolled early on just to cool off, and my hands stayed warm the whole time.  I would have a hard time believing that was possible if I didn’t actually experience it.

Anyway, I got a kick out of these pictures of Dave and Rob – pretty classic.  As usual I was reminded of why this is such an incredible area to whitewater kayak in, not just because of the rivers but also because of the amazingly good boaters like these guys who are a blast to paddle with and always encouraging, even if you do completely miss your boof and nosedive directly into Ned’s Needle and then miss your first roll, in a creekboat, for heaven’s sakes, like I did a few days before this.

Speaking of which, Samson Kim, I followed your advice about keeping the blade in the water as you approach the lip of the drop and actually got a decent boof this time around, so thanks!

Thanks to Matt Kurle for posting the video on his YouTube page, I think he took the video too.  I don’t know everyone in there but I definitely recognize Dave Moroles, Joe Howard, and I think Rob McKibbin.  One of the things I like about this is that you get to see seven people in a row do the same drop – it’s interesting to see the differences.

Matt has a lot of good videos on his YouTube channel, which my friend Blair is constantly emailing me that I should check out.  In the interests of full disclosure I should point out that this is Blair…

… so follow his video recommendations with caution, obviously.

The funny part about this day is that the point was for me, Dave Moroles and Charles Graves to run Upper Icicle down to Ricochet or the Sieve with Rob and Sam, and then somehow we decided that after watching these guys run the Wall we would run the in-between sections of Tumwater first (skipping Chaos and POW), kind of as an afterthought.

Note to self:  Running anything in Tumwater at 4900 cfs is not in the ‘afterthought’ category, at least not for me.   It’s a good example of how sometimes things just escalate.

Anyway, not long after this video was taken Dave, Charles and I were putting in below the Dam.  Rob, Sam and Darren were a few minutes ahead of us, and Dave was looking a bit grim, understandably – he was in a playboat, and the highest I’ve done Tumwater is 1850 cfs.  Not surprisingly, about 7 seconds after getting on the water (and maybe 12 seconds after telling Dave in a chirpy little voice, ‘Everything’s going to be fine!’), I was upside down in Dam rapid taking what felt like mallet hits to my helmet.  I think I could have rolled up anyway because I’ve rolled up after some pretty massive hits before, but suddenly my paddle hit a rock and the next thing I know it was in two pieces in my hands.  It was a bit like, ‘Hmmm, never done this before’.

I didn’t try rolling up with half a paddle (although I realize now that’s a great thing to practice), so I got to swim pretty much all of Dam rapid – not recommended!  I was really fortunate to walk away with just some major leg bruises because the water is really fast and super shallow at the top – it turns out Darren had flipped there too and taken some major clonks before rolling up.

Anyway, once all the excitement was over (thanks to Dave for retrieving my boat, and Charles for making a solo run down part of Tumwater looking for my paddle that he didn’t know was broken) we ran Icicle from RV down to Ricochet (I walked Limbo, being pretty much topped out on adrenaline for the day) and Charles got this cool video of me, Sam, Dave and Rob running Roadside Attraction rapid.

Thanks to Charles Graves for filming this!  (Due to having to skip the paddle after tweaking his back out getting stuck in a hole for 30 seconds on Tumwater that morning looking for my paddle that broke in half and resulted in my swim through Dam rapid – ouch! But that’s another blog post….)

Anyway, Sam’s in the lead, I’m in the blue and white boat that flips (huge surprise) followed by Rob in the red playboat and then Dave.  Notice how I completely don’t paddle going into that drop that flips me, and then you can hardly see it but after I roll up I do the next drop backwards.  Which surprisingly often works out pretty well – I’ve done it enough times that I’m telling Rob my goal is to eventually do all of Tumwater backwards.  And now maybe Icicle too.   Anyway, first time on Icicle and it was definitely a stretch for my skill level but it was a blast and I would love to do it again, as scary as it was.  (If you haven’t done it yet, it’s definitely a lesson in the ‘it’s bigger than it looks from the road’ department.)

P.S. I should mention that we put in at RV and I walked Limbo and took out at Ricochet.  Then Sam broke HIS paddle on Son of Ricochet.  It was just one of those days when things break, I guess!  Also, Icicle was 875 cfs on the Professor Paddle virtual Icicle gauge.

I’ll take the opportunity here to also give Dave credit for being an all-around great guy to boat with - super-competent kayaker, and “We’re in no hurry here” is the typical response to me scrabbling around last minute in my gear bag for gloves or dog food when a lot of people are getting into their boats and getting ready to paddle.

Ouch, ouch, and ouch.

So is it foolish to kayak on Friday the 13th?  I’m not superstitious, but as I was heading out to boat that morning I remember thinking how ironic it would be if there ended up being river carnage that day.  As it turns out, I was front and center in the carnage department, but at the same time it was relatively minor, so I’m seriously grateful to have been able to learn a lesson without totally sidelining myself for months.

Anyway, here are some thoughts I’ve had about what happened:

It’s easy to get used to getting away with things.

What happened is that I ended up breaking 3 ribs when I got T-boned by the bow of someone’s kayak while they were surfing and I was coming down a wave train.  It flipped me over and I remember thinking, ‘Holy smokes, I think I really got hurt this time’, but fortunately I was able to roll up and get over to an eddy.  Now apparently (as I’ve heard since then) there’s a river rule that says the upstream kayaker has right of way, but let’s be real - there also has to be an unwritten rule that says the upstream kayaker should avoid acting like a bonehead, and I know I had enough time to get out of this person’s way - I just was being a little lax about paddling hard.  Usually you get away with that stuff with some flips and apologies, this time I didn’t.

Snow billows through Index as we put in.

Little mistakes can have big consequences.

I think for most kayakers it’s a lot easier to consider getting hurt and dealing with pain than it is to think about the amount of time they’ll have to take off of paddling.  They told me six weeks and I’m hoping it’s four, but poor Fish Waidelich, who’s an amazing kayaker, dislocated his shoulder recently and is out for months – recently he was on Professor Paddle begging people to take him down river in a raft, and (paddlers being the people they are) he got lots of offers right away.  But seriously – from what I hear, he got hurt on a class III section, and he’s a class V paddler.  So I guess it’s worth keeping that kind of thing in mind.  Although at the same time, if you think too much about what can go wrong you’ll never leave the house.  (Martha Stewart reruns, anyone? )

Your paddle group is your lifeline.

I was fortunate to be paddling with a great group of people who did everything they could to make things safer and easier.  Everyone took the time to figure out what was going on, Brett Barton carried both his and my boat off the river and through the woods for half an hour up to the road, the guys from Peak 7 happened to come along and give us a ride up to Index, JP and Dave Morales drove me back to my house, and Dave didn’t make me feel bad about committing his afternoon to taking me to the hospital when it turned out  I couldn’t drive.  You seriously want to paddle with people like this.

We are blessed with amazing capacity to heal.

I know most people know that, but I have to emphasize – I am completely mind-boggled at how much better I feel just over a week later.  When I got to the hospital on Friday I could barely walk, and on Sunday I couldn’t clear my throat, even on Percocet.  By Wednesday, however, I was off of painkillers and actually tried a slow jog (then got walloped on Facebook by my clear-thinking friends.)  Today is nine days later and I can breathe in just fine – sneezing is not agonizing, I can run (although I’m not) and I’m just watching out for my left arm and shoulder blade, which I can tell will take longer.  If you had told me last Sunday that I’d feel like this today, I would have snorted in disbelief – and then toppled over in agony.  It’s truly amazing.

So in the end…

I’m not trying to sound like Polyanna.  It’s not fun to have broken ribs (other than the outpouring of sympathy, including fellow paddler Marilyn Ridings showing up on Sunday with a full grocery list and flowers – thanks Marilyn!)  But who are we kidding – any time you get the opportunity to learn a potentially life-saving lesson without losing a bunch of teeth or rupturing a shoulder (the point being, obviously, that you’d be off the river for a long time with those injuries ) there’s not that much to complain about, right?  I’m calling it good, and hoping to be smarter and better when I get back out there.

Clear skies and fresh snow on the way back.