A good friend called me a couple of months ago and asked if I might be interested in a whitewater rafting trip to West Virginia. He has been several times and said that he thought I might enjoy getting away. I had never been whitewater rafting and therefore without much hesitation I said that I thought it sounded like a good idea.
There were, of course, a few little things that my buddy failed to tell me. The first was that we were going to the upper Gauley river during a scheduled release of the Summersville dam. This would result in a flow of about 2,800 ft³/s. To get a perspective of that, it is like 2,800 basketballs passing a fixed point every second. That is a lot of fast moving water. He also failed to mention that the Gauley is considered one of the most advanced whitewater runs in the Eastern U.S and the company providing the guide for the trip required that you have previous whitewater experience before going out (reference my prior sentence about never having been). I did, however, do my research (albeit a little late) and with only a few days left before we set out I slowly began to realize what I had gotten myself into.
Accompanied by my friend and a co-worker of his we left for West Virginia on a Thursday night after work and arrived at the camp around 10:30 P.M. that night. We were going to be staying in a fixed tent at the camp site. Nothing fancy, just some sleeping bags to get us through the night to the beginning of our rafting adventure the next morning.
We were up at 5 A.M. and the sky was incredible. It has been a very long time since I was able to look up at a sky full of stars, unadulterated by electric lighting. To try to describe it would be futile and the iPhone's camera wasn't designed to take long exposure shots that would have caught the beauty of what I saw. Suffice it is to say that when I looked up that morning the first thing that came to mind was the quote from the movie 2001: A Space Odyssey, "My God! It's full of stars!"
It was 5:30 A.M. when we made it down to the main area to have breakfast. Dawn was just starting to creep over the mountains. Our breakfast at the camp restaurant was homemade offerings and good, but very overpriced.
At 6:00 A.M. we signed in and started collecting our gear: helmet, paddle, and PFD along with a rented wetsuit and splash jacket. The option to go with the wetsuit and splash jacket would later prove to be a good one as the water temperature was around 50 degrees and even though the daytime temperature would rise to the mid 80s the water temperature remained frigid.
We loaded up on buses and headed out to the Summersville Dam. The ride was about an hour as one of the guides gave an animated safety brief that wasn't quite the confidence builder. If I distilled it down, being out of the boat was a bad thing and should that happen you were responsible for your own safety and "aggressive self-rescue". Perfect.
At the dam everyone split into their boat crews. Some were only taking a single "marathon" ride which would take them from the upper Gauley with the largest rapids through the lower Gauley with Class IV and lower rapids. Our boat would be making a "double upper". We were taking on the upper Gauley with its Class V+ rapids twice in one day.
Our boat consisted of the three of us who had traveled together, a group from Texas, and our guide John. The Texans had prior whitewater experience and had even rafted in other countries which was pretty awesome, but this would be their first time down the Gauley.
After another quick safety brief and an equipment check we carried our boat to the river's edge and climbed aboard.
It is difficult to describe the entire experience and really what more can be said than the next several hours were filled with some pretty intense, extremely wet moments. We lost people overboard and recovered them successfully. We recovered other swimmers from other boats. We navigated the "big five" - the largest rapids on the Gauley - and successfully dropped through Sweet's Falls - a Class V rapid with a nice 14 foot drop.
At Sweet's Falls we stopped for lunch. The rafting company has a private deck area built along the canyon walls and they served a very nice meal that included pastas and grilled burgers. Although I moderated what I ate, I still ate too much. That would later come back to haunt me.
I can say that even with the breaks at the recovery pools between rapids, the experience was physically demanding. I consider myself to be in above-average shape, however the demands of the river had required engaging muscles that don't normally see that level of sustained abuse. It was during this time at lunch that I had the opportunity to talk with our Texan boat mates. Of all of the whitewater that they had done, I asked, how did the Gauley compare? They were unanimous in their declaration that without question the Gauley was the most challenging and most "technical" of the whitewater they had experienced. I joked that it might have been a mistake for me to have chosen this as my first experience as everything else would probably be lackluster. But as they say, "If you're going to go, go big."
We put back in the water and traveled another two or three miles downriver, through a few more minor rapids, to the extraction point just above where the lower Gualey begins. We pulled the boat out and boarded a bus that took us on another hour long ride back to the dam where we once again put back into the water. And so we began a second trek down the upper Gauley.
If the initial trip down the river had taken its toll physically, the second trip finished us all. A third of the way through and we were all near exhaustion. We lost more people overboard, struggled to keep in sync and paddle with any strength, and looked at each other with faces that clearly showed fatigue. That fatigue became evident when, at a rapid that did not seem all that challenging, one of the Texans went overboard and became trapped beneath the raft. The long seconds that followed were the most chilling as we searched for him and realized, almost immediately, that he was trapped. Fortunately he was able to free himself from under the boat and make it to the surface where we quickly pulled him back in.
After once again successfully navigating Sweet's Falls, we made our way past our initial extraction point and into the calmer waters of the lower Gauley. It was there that we came to a rapid that John called Swimmer's Rapid, where we were afforded an opportunity to voluntarily go overboard and experience swimming through a rapid. I decided that I would give it a go for the experience. I swallowed enough of the river water that I nearly vomited and I quickly discovered that trying to swim with the splash jacket (which very effectively hold in water as well as repelling it) and PFD was a feat that you do not want to try when you are physically drained. To say that becoming an active participant in your own "aggressive self-rescue" under those conditions is difficult is a drastic understatement.
Later as we moved down into the New River Gorge we came to Jump Rock. Guides steer the boat to the cliff's edge and allow individuals to climb to the top of a cliff where they can jump back from the cliff face into the river below; a height of about 25 feet. John explained that if you left the boat that you had to jump. "It's called "Jump Rock", not "Walk Up and Walk Back Down Rock"", he stated very matter-of-factly.
I will say that at this point I had no desire to jump off of a 25 foot high cliff into a river. My lunch was still weighing heavily on me and my experience through Swimmer's Rapid had zapped what little energy that I had left. But when the boat came alongside the cliff, my two partners immediately filed out of the boat along with one of the ladies from Texas. I would be damned (even at the cost of my own life - pride and ego are powerful things) if I were going to be one of the ones left sitting in the boat. So off I went up the cliff face.
I'll spare you the stream of consciousness that occurred on the climb and throughout the jump. It is enough to say that it was a long drop, a deep submergence, a long ascent to the surface, and a very long swim back to the boat.
We arrived back at the main camp around 5:30 or 6:00 P.M., turned in our gear, showered, and put on some dry clothes. We had decided to make the five and a half hour drive back home that same night and without much delay we were once again on the road. Thank god for Starbucks and the chocolaty caffeine goodness that is the triple venti mocha.
There was a general consensus that while the Gauley was an exciting adventure that probably one run at the upper would have been enough. And while we had a very good time, we also agreed that once a year (or bi-annually someone else had suggested) would be more than enough time spent traversing the rapids during the Army Corps' controlled release and Gauley Fest.
The time away was worth every amount of energy expended. Even though I had a waterproof bag, I opted to leave the smart phone in the car. The fact that I was completely unplugged for an entire day had merits all its own. And sleeping under the stars without the pollution of artificial light brought back a sense of peace that I had forgotten long ago. I had gone to experience the adventure of the Gauley but when I really consider the trip perhaps the very best part had nothing to do with the rapids.
There were, of course, a few little things that my buddy failed to tell me. The first was that we were going to the upper Gauley river during a scheduled release of the Summersville dam. This would result in a flow of about 2,800 ft³/s. To get a perspective of that, it is like 2,800 basketballs passing a fixed point every second. That is a lot of fast moving water. He also failed to mention that the Gauley is considered one of the most advanced whitewater runs in the Eastern U.S and the company providing the guide for the trip required that you have previous whitewater experience before going out (reference my prior sentence about never having been). I did, however, do my research (albeit a little late) and with only a few days left before we set out I slowly began to realize what I had gotten myself into.
 |
| All the comforts of home - not. |
We were up at 5 A.M. and the sky was incredible. It has been a very long time since I was able to look up at a sky full of stars, unadulterated by electric lighting. To try to describe it would be futile and the iPhone's camera wasn't designed to take long exposure shots that would have caught the beauty of what I saw. Suffice it is to say that when I looked up that morning the first thing that came to mind was the quote from the movie 2001: A Space Odyssey, "My God! It's full of stars!"
 |
| Dawn at the main camp. Camera still can not do it justice. |
At 6:00 A.M. we signed in and started collecting our gear: helmet, paddle, and PFD along with a rented wetsuit and splash jacket. The option to go with the wetsuit and splash jacket would later prove to be a good one as the water temperature was around 50 degrees and even though the daytime temperature would rise to the mid 80s the water temperature remained frigid.
We loaded up on buses and headed out to the Summersville Dam. The ride was about an hour as one of the guides gave an animated safety brief that wasn't quite the confidence builder. If I distilled it down, being out of the boat was a bad thing and should that happen you were responsible for your own safety and "aggressive self-rescue". Perfect.
At the dam everyone split into their boat crews. Some were only taking a single "marathon" ride which would take them from the upper Gauley with the largest rapids through the lower Gauley with Class IV and lower rapids. Our boat would be making a "double upper". We were taking on the upper Gauley with its Class V+ rapids twice in one day.
Our boat consisted of the three of us who had traveled together, a group from Texas, and our guide John. The Texans had prior whitewater experience and had even rafted in other countries which was pretty awesome, but this would be their first time down the Gauley.
After another quick safety brief and an equipment check we carried our boat to the river's edge and climbed aboard.
At Sweet's Falls we stopped for lunch. The rafting company has a private deck area built along the canyon walls and they served a very nice meal that included pastas and grilled burgers. Although I moderated what I ate, I still ate too much. That would later come back to haunt me.I can say that even with the breaks at the recovery pools between rapids, the experience was physically demanding. I consider myself to be in above-average shape, however the demands of the river had required engaging muscles that don't normally see that level of sustained abuse. It was during this time at lunch that I had the opportunity to talk with our Texan boat mates. Of all of the whitewater that they had done, I asked, how did the Gauley compare? They were unanimous in their declaration that without question the Gauley was the most challenging and most "technical" of the whitewater they had experienced. I joked that it might have been a mistake for me to have chosen this as my first experience as everything else would probably be lackluster. But as they say, "If you're going to go, go big."
We put back in the water and traveled another two or three miles downriver, through a few more minor rapids, to the extraction point just above where the lower Gualey begins. We pulled the boat out and boarded a bus that took us on another hour long ride back to the dam where we once again put back into the water. And so we began a second trek down the upper Gauley.
If the initial trip down the river had taken its toll physically, the second trip finished us all. A third of the way through and we were all near exhaustion. We lost more people overboard, struggled to keep in sync and paddle with any strength, and looked at each other with faces that clearly showed fatigue. That fatigue became evident when, at a rapid that did not seem all that challenging, one of the Texans went overboard and became trapped beneath the raft. The long seconds that followed were the most chilling as we searched for him and realized, almost immediately, that he was trapped. Fortunately he was able to free himself from under the boat and make it to the surface where we quickly pulled him back in.After once again successfully navigating Sweet's Falls, we made our way past our initial extraction point and into the calmer waters of the lower Gauley. It was there that we came to a rapid that John called Swimmer's Rapid, where we were afforded an opportunity to voluntarily go overboard and experience swimming through a rapid. I decided that I would give it a go for the experience. I swallowed enough of the river water that I nearly vomited and I quickly discovered that trying to swim with the splash jacket (which very effectively hold in water as well as repelling it) and PFD was a feat that you do not want to try when you are physically drained. To say that becoming an active participant in your own "aggressive self-rescue" under those conditions is difficult is a drastic understatement.
Later as we moved down into the New River Gorge we came to Jump Rock. Guides steer the boat to the cliff's edge and allow individuals to climb to the top of a cliff where they can jump back from the cliff face into the river below; a height of about 25 feet. John explained that if you left the boat that you had to jump. "It's called "Jump Rock", not "Walk Up and Walk Back Down Rock"", he stated very matter-of-factly.
I will say that at this point I had no desire to jump off of a 25 foot high cliff into a river. My lunch was still weighing heavily on me and my experience through Swimmer's Rapid had zapped what little energy that I had left. But when the boat came alongside the cliff, my two partners immediately filed out of the boat along with one of the ladies from Texas. I would be damned (even at the cost of my own life - pride and ego are powerful things) if I were going to be one of the ones left sitting in the boat. So off I went up the cliff face.
I'll spare you the stream of consciousness that occurred on the climb and throughout the jump. It is enough to say that it was a long drop, a deep submergence, a long ascent to the surface, and a very long swim back to the boat.
 |
| With my Texan boat mates. |
There was a general consensus that while the Gauley was an exciting adventure that probably one run at the upper would have been enough. And while we had a very good time, we also agreed that once a year (or bi-annually someone else had suggested) would be more than enough time spent traversing the rapids during the Army Corps' controlled release and Gauley Fest.
The time away was worth every amount of energy expended. Even though I had a waterproof bag, I opted to leave the smart phone in the car. The fact that I was completely unplugged for an entire day had merits all its own. And sleeping under the stars without the pollution of artificial light brought back a sense of peace that I had forgotten long ago. I had gone to experience the adventure of the Gauley but when I really consider the trip perhaps the very best part had nothing to do with the rapids.
