This is probably the earliest I've run the Tieton, though only by a day, and it's definitely the earliest I've run it at a good flow (1379 cfs). After figuring out the access situation (bridge construction has made things messy) we did a one-shot run and had a great time. It was hot and sunny, but still worth wearing a drysuit in the IK.
The situation with the Tieton is interesting. There are several tributaries that supply water to the Lower Yakima, which is used for irrigation. For most of the year, the Lower Yakima gets additional water from the Upper Yakima and Cle Elum rivers. In early September, the salmon and steelhead run up these rivers to spawn. The additional water means that the fish would end up laying their eggs in places that will be dry when the Lower Yakima no longer needs the additional water. So, in order to accomodate the fish spawning, the releases on the Upper Yakima and Cle Elum rivers are turned down, and the Tieton is used to fill the Lower Yakima. This is called "the flip-flop". It generally starts the last few days of August and continues until mid-October, with the peak in mid-September. Commercial raft companies flock to the Tieton while there are water and customers, and private boaters come out in droves for the two weekends around the peak. The more hardcore private boaters are there every weekend until either the flow drops too low or the fall rainstorms come in and start filling up the rivers closer to home. There have been years when I've done this run into mid-October, and years where late September storms have allowed me to boat closer to home.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Saturday, August 29, 2009
52 - 8/29/09 - Cle Elum/Yakima
It was looking like another dry weekend when some people decided to try out the Cle Elum and Yakima. Several people backed out because of the bad weather that was in the forecast, which turned out to be their loss. It was a clear, warm summer day with a nice breeze to keep us cool. We took 3 IKs down from just below the Cle Elum dam to the fishing access about a mile above the Teanaway River confluence.
The Cle Elum below the dam is fast, but it only has a few rapids, all of which are easy. The biggest problem on this stretch of river is logjams, but these come and go. This year, the run was clean. We had lunch about 2 miles above the confluence with the Yakima. When the Yakima comes in, the gradient drops and the river slows down a bit. This time of year, the Yakima is a lot lower than the Cle Elum, so it only added a little water to the flow.
Just after we got onto the Yakima, a couple of guys paddled past us in a canoe. A couple more miles down the river, we ran into them again. As we turned a corner, we saw one of them standing in the water, then the other, and then their overturned boat. We pulled over above them and walked down to see how we could help. Their boat was on its side pinned on some tree branches. One of our group used his line to help lever the boat off the trees while the other two of us went downstream to catch the boat when it was pulled off. I was able to right the boat, and the other person was able to get the line and pull the boat - still full of water - to an island. We then emptied the boat and waited for the paddlers to walk down. We used throwbags to help get them to the island and we lent them a paddle since they had lost all but one of theirs.
Afterwards, we camped near the put-in at a nice little clearing in the woods. We had a delicious dinner and watched the stars.
The Cle Elum below the dam is fast, but it only has a few rapids, all of which are easy. The biggest problem on this stretch of river is logjams, but these come and go. This year, the run was clean. We had lunch about 2 miles above the confluence with the Yakima. When the Yakima comes in, the gradient drops and the river slows down a bit. This time of year, the Yakima is a lot lower than the Cle Elum, so it only added a little water to the flow.
Just after we got onto the Yakima, a couple of guys paddled past us in a canoe. A couple more miles down the river, we ran into them again. As we turned a corner, we saw one of them standing in the water, then the other, and then their overturned boat. We pulled over above them and walked down to see how we could help. Their boat was on its side pinned on some tree branches. One of our group used his line to help lever the boat off the trees while the other two of us went downstream to catch the boat when it was pulled off. I was able to right the boat, and the other person was able to get the line and pull the boat - still full of water - to an island. We then emptied the boat and waited for the paddlers to walk down. We used throwbags to help get them to the island and we lent them a paddle since they had lost all but one of theirs.
Afterwards, we camped near the put-in at a nice little clearing in the woods. We had a delicious dinner and watched the stars.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
By the Numbers
Ever since I started whitewater boating, I've kept track of my runs. At first, I kept detailed records and wrote long stories, but after a few years I got behind and just wrote enough to remember the run. At some point, I lost all of the details, but I had a sheet of paper with yearly counts on it, so I started over with that to keep a count.
To date, my total number of river days is 640, which averages out to 32 days a year for 20 years. Prior to 2004, my best ever year was 1992 with 50 days. In 2001, I boated 3 days because I spent most of that year with tendinitis and it wasn't a great water year. By 2003, I had 207 days, with an average of under 14 days a year.
The years since 2004 have been much better. I've averaged around 75 days a year. My best ever year was 2006, when I hit 90 days. The biggest contributing factor to the increase is getting a drysuit. You simply can't IK very much in Washington without a drysuit.
My next boating day will bring me to 52 days, which is only significant in that it averages to 1 day per week. Unless I get injured, I expect to reach 75 days again this year.
It would be fun to try to reach 100 days. I know a number of people who do this, but most of them are retired and the others are just crazy...
To date, my total number of river days is 640, which averages out to 32 days a year for 20 years. Prior to 2004, my best ever year was 1992 with 50 days. In 2001, I boated 3 days because I spent most of that year with tendinitis and it wasn't a great water year. By 2003, I had 207 days, with an average of under 14 days a year.
The years since 2004 have been much better. I've averaged around 75 days a year. My best ever year was 2006, when I hit 90 days. The biggest contributing factor to the increase is getting a drysuit. You simply can't IK very much in Washington without a drysuit.
My next boating day will bring me to 52 days, which is only significant in that it averages to 1 day per week. Unless I get injured, I expect to reach 75 days again this year.
It would be fun to try to reach 100 days. I know a number of people who do this, but most of them are retired and the others are just crazy...
Saturday, August 8, 2009
51 - 8/8/09 - Upper Skagit
Every August, WRRR puts on the Carey Berger Memorial Poker Run (Carey was an early club member who died before I was in the club). This event involves people going down the river and adding cards to their "poker hands" (technically, since you can't draw new cards or bluff, this is really just an interesting way of doing a raffle, so it's not gambling). Since I was running one of the card stations, I had to start down the river early and I was one of the last people off the river.
The Upper Skagit is not too much of a whitewater run. It does have some class III whitewater, but it's concentrated in a small area. The other nice thing about this run is that it runs reliably in August, when pretty much everything else is too low.
The Upper Skagit is not too much of a whitewater run. It does have some class III whitewater, but it's concentrated in a small area. The other nice thing about this run is that it runs reliably in August, when pretty much everything else is too low.
Friday, August 7, 2009
50 - 8/7/09 - Lower Lower Sauk and Lower Lower Skagit
Continuing the trip, we got up and left camp at around 8:30AM. The current was still reasonably fast, and there were no problem logs in the river. As we approached the confluence with the Skagit, the channels got more and more braided, and we had to choose carefully.
Once on the Skagit, the current picked up and we moved pretty quickly. The confluence of the Sauk and Skagit is below the town of Rockport, so we had to use a fishing access downstream. We chose to use one about 4-5 miles down, which had a nice beach that we could drive onto to load the boats.
As we got near the takeout, we noticed some houses next to the river. There were PVC pipes sticking out of the bank, and at first we thought they might have been drainage pipes or pipes for pumping water out of the river, though they were quite a way up the bank. Looking at the aerial view of the houses on Google Maps, it appears that the houses used to be quite a bit further from the river. These pipes were in the back yards, possibly part of a sprinkler system, and were uncovered when high water eroded the bank.
All in all, I'd say it was a fun overnighter on a nice section of river. I hope to do it again sometime with a larger group of people.
Once on the Skagit, the current picked up and we moved pretty quickly. The confluence of the Sauk and Skagit is below the town of Rockport, so we had to use a fishing access downstream. We chose to use one about 4-5 miles down, which had a nice beach that we could drive onto to load the boats.
As we got near the takeout, we noticed some houses next to the river. There were PVC pipes sticking out of the bank, and at first we thought they might have been drainage pipes or pipes for pumping water out of the river, though they were quite a way up the bank. Looking at the aerial view of the houses on Google Maps, it appears that the houses used to be quite a bit further from the river. These pipes were in the back yards, possibly part of a sprinkler system, and were uncovered when high water eroded the bank.
All in all, I'd say it was a fun overnighter on a nice section of river. I hope to do it again sometime with a larger group of people.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Solo Whitewater Boating
Let me start by saying that you should never boat alone. Even going with just one other boat is potentially dangerous.
While it's not something I commonly do, I have kayaked alone quite a few times. Most of my solo trips have been on a class II+ run near my home. For this run, I can go to my house and ride my bicycle back up to get my vehicle at the put-in. I did once have some trouble when I dropped my paddle and couldn't get back to it for a while. I learned on that trip that it's worth taking a spare paddle even on an easy trip you know well.
My longest solo run was on a long stretch of water in Northern California, on the Trinity River. This one was quite an adventure. I was traveling alone, and I couldn't find anyone else in the area who was running the river that day, so I decided to solo IK a stretch of class II (with a couple of easy class III rapids) that I had run a few times before with friends. I began by leaving my gear with the campground host. I then drove 25 miles to the takeout and started hitch-hiking. I wore my wetsuit in hopes that the people driving by would realize that I was boating and know I only wanted a short ride. I had a couple of offers from rafting companies, but they weren't going far enough upstream. The one thing I didn't want to do was to get 10 miles up the road and have to walk 15 miles back to the campground. I figured that if nobody picked me up after a couple of hours, I would drive upstream a few miles and try again. Luckily, within 30 minutes I caught a ride back to the campground. I carried my gear down to the river and was on my way. The water level was medium-low, so I figured I needed to paddle a little. At the same time, I didn't want to get off the river too early, as it was very hot at the campground. As it was, the trip only took me about 6 hours, which was 2 hours less than I had hoped.
My hardest solo run was not an intentional solo run. I was running a fast and continuous class III run with some friends and I decided to put in below where they did (I didn't like the look of one rapid). When they got to where I was, they didn't see me, but I didn't know this. I still had 5 minutes of preparation, so when I got into the river, I was surprised to find that they were gone. For 3 miles, they thought I was downstream of them, so they had no reason to slow down. Luckily, they pulled over at a bridge to look for me and I was able to catch up. That was one of the most exhilarating situations I've been in. I knew that if I screwed up, I might have to chase my boat down the river, so I had to really be on my game.
While it's not something I commonly do, I have kayaked alone quite a few times. Most of my solo trips have been on a class II+ run near my home. For this run, I can go to my house and ride my bicycle back up to get my vehicle at the put-in. I did once have some trouble when I dropped my paddle and couldn't get back to it for a while. I learned on that trip that it's worth taking a spare paddle even on an easy trip you know well.
My longest solo run was on a long stretch of water in Northern California, on the Trinity River. This one was quite an adventure. I was traveling alone, and I couldn't find anyone else in the area who was running the river that day, so I decided to solo IK a stretch of class II (with a couple of easy class III rapids) that I had run a few times before with friends. I began by leaving my gear with the campground host. I then drove 25 miles to the takeout and started hitch-hiking. I wore my wetsuit in hopes that the people driving by would realize that I was boating and know I only wanted a short ride. I had a couple of offers from rafting companies, but they weren't going far enough upstream. The one thing I didn't want to do was to get 10 miles up the road and have to walk 15 miles back to the campground. I figured that if nobody picked me up after a couple of hours, I would drive upstream a few miles and try again. Luckily, within 30 minutes I caught a ride back to the campground. I carried my gear down to the river and was on my way. The water level was medium-low, so I figured I needed to paddle a little. At the same time, I didn't want to get off the river too early, as it was very hot at the campground. As it was, the trip only took me about 6 hours, which was 2 hours less than I had hoped.
My hardest solo run was not an intentional solo run. I was running a fast and continuous class III run with some friends and I decided to put in below where they did (I didn't like the look of one rapid). When they got to where I was, they didn't see me, but I didn't know this. I still had 5 minutes of preparation, so when I got into the river, I was surprised to find that they were gone. For 3 miles, they thought I was downstream of them, so they had no reason to slow down. Luckily, they pulled over at a bridge to look for me and I was able to catch up. That was one of the most exhilarating situations I've been in. I knew that if I screwed up, I might have to chase my boat down the river, so I had to really be on my game.
49 - 8/6/09 - Lower Lower Sauk
I had been curious as to what the Sauk was like below the Suiattle. When people would talk about running the Lower Sauk, I was always disappointed to find that they were talking about the section above the Suiattle. Finally, I got a chance to do this run, and I did it as an overnighter.
We originally expected to have 7 or 8 people on this trip, but in the end it was just 2. It was a good thing I brought my cataraft, since I don't think we would have been able to carry everything we planned in just 2 IKs.
This is not a whitewater run. There is only one rapid that could be called class II+, and there are maybe 10 class I-II rapids. However, the run is not flatwater - there is enough of a gradient that the river moves along, even at the minimal flow we had (the Sauk at Sauk was running around 2000 cfs). The scenery has great potential, but it was pretty cloudy for us. We camped on a big sandy island within the view of some nice mountains. We were near a road, but there was very little traffic and the trees on the island helped hide them.
We originally expected to have 7 or 8 people on this trip, but in the end it was just 2. It was a good thing I brought my cataraft, since I don't think we would have been able to carry everything we planned in just 2 IKs.
This is not a whitewater run. There is only one rapid that could be called class II+, and there are maybe 10 class I-II rapids. However, the run is not flatwater - there is enough of a gradient that the river moves along, even at the minimal flow we had (the Sauk at Sauk was running around 2000 cfs). The scenery has great potential, but it was pretty cloudy for us. We camped on a big sandy island within the view of some nice mountains. We were near a road, but there was very little traffic and the trees on the island helped hide them.
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