Creeking 101

For those of you who don't know any better (including myself before this weekend) most of the runs I've been doing have been playboating runs. Creeking is another sport entirely. Which I really had no concept of -- amazing, considering the PHAT is one of the best creekboats ever made.

It is also IMHO -- much, much more difficult in several ways.

This weekend I had my first creeking session, affectionately known as "Eddie in Up to Her Eyeballs: Creekin' 101" What did I tell you about that question, "hey Eddie, have you ever..." and the trouble it gets me in?

The Classroom: Lower Coffee Creek to the Trinity Confluence - XMas in the Scott Mountains and the boating was going OFF!
Level: Class 3 (which rapidly became a 4ish due to rain, wood and some pretty tricky maneuvering)
Today's lecture will be lead by: T (aka Mama Duck), Megel (aka Daddy Duck) and "Big Uncle" Heron

What follows is my undereducated comparison of creeking and playboating.
(If I promise this will not turn out like an English 1A compare and contrast essay will you keep reading?)

Playboating is: long stretches of river between waves, rapids and other features. Sometimes you go out just to hang in a particular wave all day and practice your moves. This is known as "park-n-play" boating. Very popular in states like Colorado, where they actually have man made waves to play in.

Creeking is: Fast and narrow, count your stars if you find an eddy big enough to hold your boat, nevermind a wave to play in. Creeking is continual action, high stakes, often shallow water on steep grades. You are much more likely to encounter wood (aka, strainers or "death to boaters"), big rocks and ugly holes and turns.

Someone out there will have run a creekrun with play and or a playboating run that slammed them like a creek. Thank god this isn't algebra -- there are no hard and fast rules. I'm also not going to talk about seasons or length of run -- every body of water is her own woman and will do things her own way, goddamnit. Like it or not.

However, from my perspective there are two really good creeking times: after big rain or in the spring for snowmelt. We had option #1 -- big rains left the Creek 10 minutes from the cabin pumping. We drove to the rumored start of a class 3ish run below a tricker 4-5 run. After some deliberating (boys were aching for some big creekin, Eddie wanted to die another day) we put in down river.

From moment 1 I knew this was going to be a whole different kind of party. Here's what I learned:

First lesson: Keep your eyes on the creek and your paddle in the water at all times. Within the first half hour my arms were aching. And I'm not just talking a good forward paddle. Creekin requires your on button to be jammed in because the consequences can be pretty harsh. There are no flatwater stretches for one to look up at the sky and the trees, marvel over the birds.

Second lesson: Brace to save your face. Bracing was not just something to do if you happen to remember before you roll. Tipping in a creek means you are far more likely to get your brains bashed out on a rock.

Third lesson: Portage can be your best friend. I portaged only once (on the real class 4 doozy) when T went to scout and signed back with the "walking fingers". Portaging a rapid that's really dangerous or above your level is sometimes the most gutsy thing to do (especially when you're with a bunch of gung-ho boys) however, having the kind of REALLY BAD DAY that happens when you try to tough it out and something goes wrong -- yeah well that just sucks.

Fourth lesson: Don't forget to have fun. The best part of the whole equation is this - at the end of the day you're out on a gorgeous stretch of wild water with a group of people you literally trust with your life and adrenaline surging through your veins. Smile. You ARE having fun.

So I love the playboating runs -- big intense rapids followed by long stretches of flatwater giddy time and waves to play in -- but I have to say, this creekin stuff can grow on a girl. The continual intensity is like a gauntlet thrown down, a challenge to rise to the occasion and a classroom where the stakes may be higher but the opportunity to learn and grow as a boater are definitely worth it.

Most importantly: be safe. When it doubt, scout. And when at all possible, go with someone who knows what's up.

Oh yeah, have a bloody good time. I know I sure did.

More NOFO shots

So we put in about 12...Two hours later than we were supposed to. Why? Bloody kayakers and their girlfriends of course. We arrived at the put in, two hours late, with 12 people piled into two 4Runners, loaded with kayaks and gear. You could see the rafters rolling their eyes. After arriving it was a mad hustle to get the late rafters (us) into the boats so we could make the 4-4.5 hour run before dark. We left the kayakers to catch up.

We made it in about 3.5 which is bloody lucky cause it was damn cold on the Smith. Yours truly swam once when bounced out of the raft and had a nice swim down a class four. Yikes.



Why do we call it the "junk show?" Well with four rafts and six kayakers, all clad in the most outrageously bright colored drysuits, helmets and pfds we stuck out on the gorgeous Smith river -- well, like so much flotsam. The goal today: have fun, be safe, leave only footprints and paddle strokes.




The Lee boys ham it up for the camera. Check out the cutie on the right, ladies. He's smart, fun and single...Any takers?







Our "safety kayakers" (T, Quin and Megel) who managed to be a mile up river and playing in a wave when I made my now famous class 4 swimming effort. These guys have been paddling together since they were all high school rejects (just kidding boys) and are still going strong...




Michelle, Malia and D Lee. Rescue raft crew extraordinare. I might be still swimming the Smith if not for these fine folks.







This guy...Oh I have no idea who HE is. Kidding, just kidding. The man who put the whole thing together so his dad and I could see the most beautiful run in Northern Cali. In his brand new beautiful red baby.

T sees this picture of himself at the end of the day and laughs.
"I look pretty mischievous," he said.
"Yes," I grinned. "Yes, you are."

Can't get enough of you, Mr T. -- thanks for the trip :-)

North Fork Smith Sunday

Affectionately known as the "junk show" this trip included 4 rafts (one of which paddled by yours truly) 6 yakers and a whole lotta rigmarole. The NOFO is gorgeous, and an oddessy of epic proportions. I know now why T held out on me for this long. Trip report to follow. Pics for now!

12/4 CFS: 8,000
You do NOT want to make this run at low water because it:
A. Will take you years
B. Has a short, winter/spring season and you do not want to be paddling the last 4-5 miles in the dark. Cold, dark.







Rebecca in the meat! Go girl!










One of the MANY waterfalls that feed into the Smith. There was snow on the ground on the ride to the put in and it was COLD.











One of the few places where pitcher plants grow naturally alongside the waterfalls. They look so exotic for such a chilly place.

Bad News

Echo's broken toe is not healing (poor dog has been in a spoon splint for 6 weeks) The vet says the toe has to go...

Poor Echo.

I have no idea how much a canine toe amputation is going to cost -- but judging by how much the weekly bandage changes ran me its a good thing he's the best shuttle guard dog on the planet. And the cutest one. Even if he doesn't like to swim without his pfd.

On a selfish note, poor me. Guess I'm not getting my Pyranha by Thanksgiving after all :-(

Show on the road

No big runs this weekend. T got a Wavesport ZG for a STEAL on Ebay (see what I mean about taking advantage of a good bargain) so we cruised down to Sacramento to do a pickup. Turns out this boat is in better condition than most showroom boats. We giddily strapped it to the Runner next to Betty and sped out of El Dorado Hills giggling to ourselves about what a great deal he got.

Also, made a quick drop in to the Sacramento (actually Rancho Cordova) version California Canoe and Kayak for T to talk shop with the locals and find out what was running. That store is killer -- got to drool on lots of brand new boats and try on the IR J-Lo women's skirt. Of course the one thing I needed (pogies) they didn't have -- just my luck. Still, T got an overthruster for the ZG and was giddy as a schoolboy. Too cute. We didn't time so we skipped Chili Bar and ran a quiet stretch of class II on the south fork of the American near Coloma. Just enough time for T to nail the flatwater loop in the ZG. It's a match made in heaven.

"Which way is North?" moment: T hitchhiking back to the put in for the Runner.
As he gets in the nice Dodge that pulled over it occurs to me that the put in is UPRIVER and he just caught a ride headed DOWNRIVER. This theory is confirmed 15 minutes later when I see him cruise the opposite (and correct) direction in a Nissan pickup. No harm, no foul, but a good laugh loading boats...