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As a wilderness tripper I don't look at rapids as some place to play and get an adrenaline rush but as an obstacle to getting down the river. I enjoy those feelings as much as any paddler, but any accident that causes damage to either a boat or a person when you are 200 miles from the nearest road can be serious. We usually line the boats or portage whenever there is the slightest sign that we might have a problem. An example of this mind set was early in the morning when we came to an easy class one rapid. It was a straight run with no turns but some big waves at the bottom of the run. It would be an exciting run, but it was forty degrees, and you could see that the bow person would get wet and, even more importantly, some water might splash on the stern paddler. Not wanting to get wet and be cold for two hours while we dried out, I elected to line the boat through on the left side of the river. It took only a couple of minutes, and then we were paddling down the river dry.
We do run some rapids when we can't line the boats or when the portage is extremely tough. It was late in the day and we were tired when we got to a very long rapid. It was easily a class two and later on when we found a guide book published after we took the trip where it was listed as a three. You could see the current snaking through the rocks turning to the shoreline and then heading out through the middle of the river. It was really hard to scout the bottom of the rapid because of the distance, but it did look clear. Dana decided to take his solo to the left side of the river and maneuver through some of the slower current. He had decided the water was too big for his solo. I had learned by this time that we couldn't maneuver our duck hunter with the finesse that Dana could his little boat, so I opted the follow the path on the right side.
There was a chute cutting through the center of a ledge, so we back paddled slowing the boat to almost a stand still so we could hit it straight on. It was barely wide enough for us to get through, and as current of the river caught, I was amazed once again at the sheer power of the river. There was a series of rocks straight ahead, but the main current was turning right. I did a quick pry and felt the boat turn, and we were heading toward a high bank of the river. The current made a u-turn as the bank jutted out in the river. I absolutely hate this scenario. I did a series of draws trying to keep the back of the boat from hitting the bank. We cleared it. When I saw just under water a large rock on our right, I leaned into the rock, and the boat just slide around it like a ball hitting the rail on a pool table. The current then ran straight down the center of the river. We took a couple of back strokes to slow down the boat so we could line up the last chute, but with no luck. The current had us and we were speeding forward, caught in the power of the Bloodvein.
Then I became aware of something we had not seen when scouting the rapid. It was a small whirlpool. We were able to slip the boat sideways to miss it, but that brought close a large boulder where there was a large pillow of water. When we hit, the bow of the boat left the water at about a
45-degree angle. It seemed as if time stood still. I could see my bow partner high in the air doing a perfect stroke, the sun light reflecting off the water dropping from the blade of her paddle. As I glanced down, I saw my paddle enter the water just at the edge of the whirlpool. The canoe came down with water splashing over both of us, and then once again, I felt the power of a huge eddy grab the boat. We did an eddy turn, and I sat there, my heart bounding with excitement, breaths coming in huge gasps, and let out a loud primordial yell, basking in the glory that we had actually made it.
There are things I will remember forever.
The first car I owned.
That very special paint horse.
The pass that I intercepted in the football game that ended an opponent's drive in a championship foot ball game.
My first girl friend and
"THE PERFECT RUN."
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