Run A Wild River by Larry Pynn
It’s a ledge! Twenty years later, those three words still define my first whitewater paddling trip.
In the summer of 1989, I drove north to Prince George with a five-metre rented canoe and watched a Bill mason how-to video on whitewater canoeing with my 19 year old nephew, Brian. The next day we drove the edge of Supersize Plateau Wilderness Provincial Park in northwest British Columbia , and we took another day to lug the canoe and our gear along a five kilometre portage trail to the Supersize River’s headwaters. Then, without a drop of whitewater paddling experience, we launched into a week long expedition through the park to the Strikine River and on to our take-out at Highway 37.
thus began the most exhilarating and ill prepared wilderness adventure of my life-an experience so fuelled with adrenaline and intoxicated by naivety that it forever instilled in me an appreciation for wild rivers and those who run them.
The spatsizi starts slow and shallow and builds gradually with each new tributary, allowing paddlers to practice their skills in forgiving conditions. The rhythm of the river, pooling as it does after the whitewater stretches, provides a chance for recovery should paddlers flip. We never did. But by time we reached the river’s confluence with the Strikine, the “great river” to the coastal Tlingit people, we were under no illusion about our skill level
Despite mason’s training video, we were a couple of one-trick ponies relying exclusively on our power stroke. which is okay for straight-forward stretches but of little use inside a fluid pinball machine. And just 15 Kilometres downstream lay the Jewel Rapids.
“This section can be extremely hazardous,” The BC Parks description advised, “…with ratings from Grade 111 to 1V depending on the water level.” (Grade 1 is easy moving water, and Grade V1 is effectively impassable). “There are many large boulders scattered through the channel that you pick a route through. These rapids should be scouted from shore before attempting to run them.”
Not the Pynn boys, not on this trip.
We paddled straight into the slobbering jaws of those rapids. Most of the experience is a blur now, except for the memory of one forbidding monolith directly in our path. The canoe took it straight on its fiberglass beak. For a moment I thought we were doomed. But instead of wrapping itself around the boulder, the canoe bounced off the rack and kept going, upright and undamaged.
Luck was on our side, and we found we had learned a few things from Mason. Most of the time, we could read the flow of the current and the shape of the white water to anticipate challenges ahead. But some features proved difficult to spot, or came up faster than expected. Once, we survived a 90-degree turn that slammed us sideways against a rock face. And in our most harrowing moment, we discouvered too late one of the most dreaded obstacles in canoeing.
It’s a ledge!” my nephew screamed as the bottom fell out of the river. It was an involuntary exclamation at a situation over which we had no control, but more than that, it was a rallying cry for an adventure of a lifetime.
We made it through. We completed the journey, and I was hooked.I went on to buy my own canoe and kayak. I took the whitewater paddling courses I should have taken at the outset and learned critical safety techniques I have used ever since.
Being more in control has not diminished the excitement. while I have undertaken many long distance wilderness hikes in the last two decades, they are no substitute for the relentless thrill of running a wild river. and consider the practical side. My nephew and I paddled some 200 Killometres on Spatsizi-Stikine trip; to traverse that wilderness on foot in a week would be impossible. And we did it without twisting an ankle or knee, stumbling over a root, or lugging 30Kilogram packs on our backs.
There are other benefits to wilderness paddling. I can’t count the number of divine campsites I’ve enjoyed on shorelines or gravel bard, with flat ground, plenty of firewood, and sweeping vistas. on the Spatsizi, those views included mountain goats flecked against fiery slopes stained with iron oxide.
With age I have come to appreciate the canoe’s ability to carry a few luxuries one could never justify in a backpack” a little wine or beer, a Frisbee, plastic tarps and water jugs. lawn chairs for comfort around the campfire. Real food, too-not that packaged glop that tastes like melted Visa cards.
Paddling B.C’s great rivers connects the canoeist with history, with the voyageurs and First Nations who preceded them. And it can provide real solitude.
Once we launched on theSpatsizzi, we never encountered another paddler. I suspect those running the rive today would experience much the same.
Even closer to civilization, I am amazed how few paddlers I’ve met on B.C rivers, including trips in recent years down the North Thompson near Kamloops: the Pine River, east of Chetwynd and Murray River near Fort St. James. My impression is that B.C’ers are more comfortable with flat-water paddling on lakes or the ocean, and turn to commercial rafting companies for whitewater thrills.
For me, the greater thrill is finding within myself the ability to meet the challenges of a wild river. This kind of canoeing adventure does carry its risks, but these can be managed through instruction and practice, and by tackling only the rivers within your capability.
That trip in 1989 would be my nephew’s high-water mark. He never canoed white water again, but our experiences on the Spatsizi and Stikine rivers have never left him. Today, the 39 year old father of two and vice-resident of an investment firm views the vagaries of life as twists and turns in the river, the obstacles in his path as rapids to be navigate.
They’re all ledges of varying heights, Brian quips. “Splash down and keep on paddling”
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