Last Saturday we ran the Upper Blackwater in West Virginia. The river is very serious, and very beautiful. Four hours of drops between boulders - each jump takes you three to five feet down (not counting "serious" parts, where the drops are taller). The eddies are small, they take two-three boats at most. Half of the drops are blind. Today everything is sore, my paddle is cracked, my knuckle is skinned, and I'm pretty much as happy as it gets. It was running 240 cfs - a perfect level for the Upper B. Take a look at the description here: www.americanwhitewater.org/rivers/id/2334
There were seven of us - Stu Koster, Angie White, Dave Broer, Dave Duke, Paul Lang, Brent Laubaugh and myself - Boris Glick. I was the only Upper B first-timer in the group, but Stu haven't done it in several years, so he didn't remember much either.
My memory of the overall descent is vague at best, but here are some episodes:
First impression: I'm climbing down the hillside between the pines, something is roaring down below. Dragging my boat on my shoulder. The pines grow sparse, and I get a view of the first rapid. Doesn't seem all that horrible: A boulder garden with five-foot drops in between. There's an unpleasant tree above the first drop, but if you run it with some speed heading right, it shouldn't present a problem. I can see the three drops of the rapid, but not the pool below. I start walking downstream to see all of it. Soon I see that the rapid has four drops rather than three. I climb a boulder and see that there are six of them, not four. And no sign of the end. (As I learned later, the end of the rapid is several miles downstream from the takeout).
We pass another group of kayakers, Paul and Kelly set up video cameras, and we start. I try to catch an eddy after the first drop, but the eddy line is stronger than I anticipated, so I get thrown back into the center. Run the second drop on the right, next to the undercut, stabilize the boat and run the third drop. There's supposed to be a sticky hole. My boat backenders, but clears it. I turn around and look up. The water alternates between cascading down and hiding between rocks. Very pretty. Stu runs sweep, and punches the hole - backwards. I look downstream. Two vertical walls of the banks and the horizon line of the next drop. Gulp. We go on...
We're sitting in a good-sized eddy, it fits three boats comfortably. The line goes down a straight crack two to three feet wide between two boulders, both of them somewhat undercut. There's a broken-off tree branch on the left looking upstream, armpit level. When you pass it, you have to lift the paddle to clear the boulder, so the armpit will be wide open. Stu wants me to look at the breathtaking cliffs on the right bank, but I'm already concentrating for the run, so my reply is somewhat brief. I enter the drop, pass the dreaded tree branch, and immediately flip. Try to roll, but my paddle gets stuck to the bottom. Holding on to the paddle, I try to wiggle it sideways - it won't let go. The current turns the boat somewhere to the side, but I can see light, which means I passed the undercut. I let go with one hand and stick my head out - seems there's no immediate danger. The boat has pivoted around the stuck blade and the bow is in a side channel, the stern blocking the main line. I go back under to grip the paddle with both hands and wiggle it up and down. It finally lets go, so I roll up and tap on my helmet, sending "I'm okay" signal. Brent shouts at me from below to get out of the side crack. I try to backpaddle, but there's too much current. So I go further into the crack where it opens up a bit, turn around - thank you Stubby for being so short! - and attain back to the main line. Soon I catch an eddy next to Brent. It's all right, we go on...
We're running a drop that seems simple. Paul and Angie are downstream, they are signaling to run it down the center with a left angle. I jump, and everything seems normal, except there's strong right current, that goes towards... A large stuck tree! There's no pillow, the stream goes right under it. I try to miss it and almost make it, but get broached on the roots. The current is strong and I can feel the boat flexing. Take a couple of power strokes and the boat slides free. It's all right, we go on...
We land into another eddy, and behind it is something like a rock dam. In the crack between the rocks I can see the outflow - a good twenty feet below. The main drop is on the left, with a vertical wall of the left bank not far behind. Paul goes down and disappears. Half a minute later, we can see him through the crack. He signals "all clear". I wait for my turn, accelerate, and launch. Get some air, land clean, and catch an eddy. Stu comes out last. He says he pitoned pretty hard, jarring his knees. It's all right, we go on...
We're running another slot between two boulders that opens up into a five-foot drop. The right boulder is undercut, with a strong current pulling under it. I get a running start and run it cleanly. Dave Duke is running sweep. His boat gets snagged and starts to get sucked under the rock. He tries to hold to the rock with his hands, and the current literally peels the boat off him. Dave gets out of the water onto the right shore, grabs his boat and climbs back upstream to give it another try. His second run is picture-perfect. It's all right, we go on...
The rapid closer to the end of the run is called "My nerves are shot, I can't take it anymore." Very appropriate...
They say, there's supposed to be four slides. The first one is straight, with the line down the center. The second one is split, with the left half dropping off earlier than the right half. The line is, to run right-of-center just past the point where the left half drops off, and jump there. We run the first two slides, and they look just like I envisioned them. The third slide is supposed to pile up on the river-right bank, forming a pillow. The move is to brace into the pillow. When I get on the crest of the drop, I see that the pillow is deep under a rock overhang, in the semi-darkness. It surprises me, and I turn off way too early, barely missing a large hole. Paul says, in umpteenths time, "that was close". I say "Close don't count". It's all right, we go on...
Soon we can see the tributary on the right - the North Fork. This is the end of the run, but there's still the last drop. I see Paul behind the drop, he's standing on the shore. There are two split boulders between us, forming three slots. There's a good five foot drop. Paul is signaling to run right, Brent is shouting to run the left slot, with the right angle. The left slot looks slightly better, and I go left. I get into a sort of rock nest, with a narrow exit downstream. Because I didn't get enough speed, I can't clear the exit on the first try. The second try works - thanks to the short boat. Again. I climb onto the bank. We're done.
Actually, not quite done. We still have to climb about a quarter of a mile up the hill, and then walk a good mile down the trail. The hillside is steep and slippery, and the boat is slowly gaining weight. The legs aren't walking, the arms aren't carrying. I'm walking by a beautiful cascading waterfall, but don't have any energy to look. Finally, I can see our cars. Now we really are done.
See you on the river!
Boris
May 2003