Andy Hugs a Rock

Although the Highway One rapids have given us some of the best crashes, well, at least looking back now those were some spectacular crashes, at the time they sucked monkey shit. Still, one can not leave out the Doons. Not as many crashes have happened there, but some really good ones have. Now for some reason I have really missed seeing some of the best crashes first hand, I always seem to come into the picture just moments late to witness the aftermath.

Like the time Digger came on the trip for the first time. Her and Dishman were right behind Em and myself coming though the first set of the Doons. We both shot the through the chute with ease, like masters of the water we came through, however, this is were experience came in for me and hesitation doomed them. After the chute there had to be a choice made as to where to go because of some rocks and brush in the water. If you went left there was also a smidgen of an tiny island sticking out, it was do-able, but a little tricky. The right was more clear, but then you had to dodge back to the left a little bit so you didn't over shoot the landing for the canoes. Well I took the left side, flow looked faster which would be perfect to glide right into the landing.

When we shot through, I wanted to watch Digger and Dishman come through, see at the time I didn't know he was as close as he was, so I did a quick maneuver and went back up the river so we were facing backwards and I could watch. I glided us up to the shore so all I had to do was take a couple strokes on the left and push the nose back into he current which would drag it down stream, pointing us the right way to slip onto the landing. Well because of this maneuver, Dishman hesitated and thought I had missed the landing, or was in a different spot than he though it was, in any case, about the time we got turned around and I was able to take a gander at Digger and Dishman bobbing up from the water in front of their tipped canoe. Seems Dishman was going to go right, however, when I went right after going left, he altered their course a little too late and caught that rocky snag just right and tipped them over. While funny to talk about around the warm campfire later that evening, it was kind of a pisser at the time. Still, both Digger and Dishman were in good spirits and held grins as they paddled their thrice soaked canoe to the landing. But that wasn't the funniest one I caught second hand.

I believe it was Rev and his buddy Andy that had the best, well, Andy anyway. Rev was the pilot that year while Andy was acting as a navigator. I can't remember if that was one of the first times he had canoed or not, he didn't seem all that adept to the balancing of the canoe.

Well that year we didn't have any major incidents until we hit the Doons. The General went through first, as usual and spun around to get some pictures. The Rev and Andy we the next to come through. I think Ducky and the Mule were next, but I'm not sure. All I know is that I was in the last canoe, with Em I think, but then again I'm not too sure of that either. What I do know is that when we came through the first set, running the shoot like every year, on a nice sized rock sticking of of the water to my right was Andy, giving it a big old bear hug. His finders were locked so tight onto the granite that I think he left claw marks. The Rev and the canoe were nowhere to be found, well they were; they were at the landing already. Poor Andy was stranded! As Em and I cruised by I quickly grabbed my boat cushion and gave it a toss over to him as the fucking idiot wasn't wearing a life vest. Our rules, which were in place at the time but are strickily enforced since, jackets always go on before going through any rough water. It wouldn't take much to get tossed out and smack a rock into la la land. The toss was perfect, but idiot-boy was too attached to his rock to reach out and grab it. I did pick it up as I let it float up to us.

As we pulled into the landing, the General was laughing his ass off, something I would be doing soon as I heard the tale.

Andy and the Rev came flying though the Doons, through the chute, but angled too deeply towards the right. When they came though, with a lot of momentum, they slammed directly into the rock and launched Andy out of the canoe to where he only had one foot left in the canoe. Well the moving current quickly took hold of the canoe and pushed it on down the Bigfork, forcing Andy to pull his foot out of canoe because he had no chance of getting back in. So Andy get intimate with the rock and the Rev floats on down tot he landing. I believe the General has some pics of it, so I will have to get them and put them up.

When we all go to the land and out of our canoes, we had to form a human chain from the shore to get Andy back to land. Without a life jacket and the strong current, it wasn't a good idea for him to just try to swim it. I also think he couldn't swim very well. It was a great trip that couldn't have had a sour taste, but turned out alright.

Until next time I will remain...Crazy Joe.

That's The Way We Crash

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.