There is a basic undisputed truth about canoeing on the river, eventually, at some point if you are a regularly Runner, you are going to crash your canoe and take a dip in the waters. I myself have had two real crashes, both of which I ended up in the water. For one of them I was still sitting in the canoe when the canoe sank and the other I was kind of poured out of the canoe as she listed heavily to the left.
The first time I crashed was on the 1998 trip, Duckie's first year. This was the one and only time I had three people in my canoe. I had my friend Wayne Stebe and a buddy if his, Adam...I don't know his last name anymore. I found out on the first day of the trip that Stebe, the navigator, was color blind. His disability made it hard for him to see the rocks in the water, even they were causing a swirl or ripple because of the swift current. About the only way his goofy eyes could discern an obstacle was if it was sticking out of the water six inches or more or if they was a collection of white foam spewing from the other side. However, once we would get into to some white water, all bets were off because then he couldn't tell what or where shit was laying in our path. Having some skill in the pilot seat, I was able to get us through Rice and Highway One with only one little hang up, a bad choice on my part. I was also able to get us through the first set of the Doons. Nevertheless, it was on the last set of the Doons that we had the accident.
When we set out that morning I wasn't happy with the way the canoe was handling, she seemed to be listing to the right. I think a lot of it came from Adam. His uncoordinated ass couldn't keep himself centered, no matter what he did I always felt like I was compensating his weight with mine. Well we were coming up to the island that splits the Doon. The left side has the big water and rocks, but the best flow and most options for picking a chute to run. The right side is shallower, narrower and really only has one option for going down. Now if the Bigfork is running good, the right is a choice one can take and make; I have done it many times in my life. To be honest, the left side of the island scared the hell out of me, still does to this day, but I conquer that fear once a year.
Well I chose the right that day; figuring we had enough of a flow to make it. Well, the river was lower than I though, add to that Stebe's inability to locate and point our rocks, it was a choice for disaster. We were closet to the end when Stebe told me to go right when I should have went left. I had more room to the left from what I saw, and plenty of space before the island. We hit a rock and it instantly turned us sideways, so I was closest tot he island. This would not have been so bad if Adam and Stebe would have shifted their weight to the left, instead they leaned to the right, which was up-stream. It took about 1.4 seconds for the running water of the Bigfork to fill the canoe and wrap it around the rock we had hit.
After losing my mind for roughly fifteen minutes; during which I threw shit, yelled, pissed, moaned, and cursed everyone and everything on the Earth...I had some anger issues, we realized the canoe had to be unloaded and then pulled from the river. We did this and found that we could repair it enough to complete the trip; although she really pulled to the left after that. Oh, and we plugged a hole with red hanker chef.
The second time I crashed my canoe was on the Highway One rapids. This was the year of the fire. Well, one of the big problems of that trip was the booze. We were drinking before we had gotten on the water that day, which happened to be 9:00 AM. We polished off a good deal of Jag within the first five or six miles. Toss in there a shit-load of brewskis on top of that.
When the fire started, well I kept drinking. I was on a good drunk and wasn't about to lose if just because of some silly old fire. I knew we were fucked one way or another so I just kept on sipping the beers. If you have read that story you will know we got back on the river with our canoe's not packed the best. Sure things were tied in, but the packing was in a hurry and things were not centered the way they are supposed to be.
We planned on making it to the Busti site to camp that evening. We were doing alright until we got to the Highway One rapids. Once there we took turns, as we always do, shooting the rapids. When it came to our turn we got a little too close to the right side as Em and I approached the bridge. We came up on this rock that was slanted to the left. We ran up on it, and my tip, drunk ass was poured right out of the canoe, as was Em, and into the super cool water's of the Bigfork.
Once again this incident was followed by a big blow-out by me. I can be such and ass in times of strife. I hope I'm getting better. I don't want to be know for as being an ass. Anyway, those are the only two times I have taken a swim in the river while going down rapids in the canoe. I hope it is a long time until I repeat the process, but I will always take whatever the River has to offer me.
Highway One has always been the Bitch of the rapids. Of all the ones that we shoot, I have felt they are the worst, even more bad-ass than the Doons. The Doons may look more intimidatimg, but they always have good chutes...to the left...than Highway One. I know Digger and Dishman had trouble on Highway One, well they had problems at every set we hit. For some reason, Dishman couldn't figure out that you can't go down rapids sideways. It just doesn't work. I think Digger and Dishman hold the record for the most crashes in a year or by a couple. However, they do not hold the honor of the best crash ever in the history of the River Runners. That honor is bestowed upon the only father/son combination we have had on the trip.
I think we were doing the Bigfork to the North Busti road run, the same we are doing this year. Grandpa and Ladies Man were in a borrowed canoe. A red rubber Coleman canoe with mesh seats and two cross-bars in the middle for stability. They had made it thought the Rice rapids without incident. However, Highway One was a different story. Like man a canoeists before them, they succumbed to the dangers of the water.
Now I first want to say that I did not see this happen first hand, however, I do have Em as an eye witness of the event. I had turned around for some reason, but she watched the entire event unfold.
We came around the bend in the river and the General and his partner, Dishman, went through first; next came Grandpa and Ladies Man. Em and I were behind them, Mule and Mini-Hulk were behind us...and so was Ducky and Shawn. Em and I were going to take the same route that Grandpa and Ladies Man took, however, during those few minutes that I looked back to say something to someone, they hit a rock. Now I must remind you that they were in a rubber canoe with mesh seats, this is an important aspect to the crash.
They entered the rapids with some speed, which is what you want so you have more control over the canoe and the direction she takes, steering with speed is easier than without. They came upon this rock and hit it head on with a lot of fucking force. They hit so hard that the entire canoe buckled but didn't break. Instead the canoe snapped back to her original shape, thus turning the mesh seats into catapults. Grandpa was launched out one side of the canoe and Ladies Man the other side.
Em flipped out the moment it happened...I can't blame her because that was her Dad and bro being launched from their canoe like on ejector seats. It didn't take us long to get up on them because the current was strong that year. She was screaming for me to stop and I was yelling that we couldn't. Once committed to the rapids they only two ways you stop is if you crash or get hung up and the river the too high for us to get hung up. When all was said and done they didn't get a drop of water in the canoe, except for what dripped in after they got back into their seats.
I wished I could have that crash on tape. Ten grand baby from AFV, but oh well, maybe some other time.
Until next time I will remain...Crazy Joe.
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