"Sometimes luck is with you, and sometimes not, but the important thing is to take the dare. Those who climb mountains or raft rivers understand this."
- David Brower
Mike "Big Willie" Scott and I kayaked the Virgin River Narrows from Chamberlain Ranch to the Temple of Sinawava in Zion’s National Park this past weekend. We drove down Friday night, camped outside the park and the next morning obtained a backcountry permit when they opened at 8AM and rented a dry suit for Mike. The plan was to kayak the narrows on Saturday and meet my wife and kids who where doing the "tourist thing" in the park that day at the takeout around 7:30PM, things did not go according to the plan.
We put in on the North Fork of the Virgin River a little before 11AM just as another group of hard shell kayakers showed up. The first 5-6 hours were spent mostly dragging the inflatable kayaks, portaging log jams, waterfalls and occasionally floating-paddling. It felt like runing a marathon dragging 50lbs. Finally at around 5PM we met up with the confluence with Deep Creek. I think whomever named the two water ways had a sick sense of humor because Deep Creek had at least six times the water of the Virgin "River". We strapped all the gear down tight and figured with all the new flow we could still make our planned takeout time.
Until about 6:30 things were going great, cruising fast down the river at what seemed like a sprinters pace with continuous class II rapids and an occasional III-. Then disaster struck. At the top of a curving rapid I hit a rock and was tossed from my kayak. I swam back to it and grabbed on, flipped it over and started struggling to crawl back in. The rapid took another curve and the current was taking me to the left of a big rock on river left and at the last second I saw the fallen tree that stretched from a rock on shore to the rock in the river and was about six inches above the water. I only had half my body back on the kayak so I quickly slipped off, I knew I had to try and duck under that tree so I would not get strained. I am not sure exactly what happened next but I ended up submerged under water with my right arm entangled on something at the elbow. In what seemed like a full minute (probably more like 10-15 seconds) With my left hand I tried to free my knife from my life jacket so I could cut at what ever was holding me. Soon I started to thrash around under water in a panic as I sucked in a lung full of water but then suddenly, I was released from the entanglement.
The other morning I noticed a huge bruise under my tricep on my right arm, I now believe that I must have become entangled by my kayaks tube on the upstream side and the log on the downstream side. When it shifted, and one tube went under the log was when I was likely released.
It took every drop of my remaining adrenalin to reach a rock near the left shore where I proceeded to throw up the water I had just ingested and convulsively shiver from the shock of what had just happened. I clung to the rock for at least a full minute, I could not muster the strength or courage to swim the remaining 5-6ft to the left bank, I was completely exhausted, mentally and physically. A soft voice started tickling around in the back of my brain, "get to shore, you have to get out of this freezing water, get to shore...the water is 39 degrees and you will die if you don’t get out" I tried to ignore it, I wanted to just hold onto that rock. The voice slowly started to rise in volume "Did You Forget What Happened To Mike Nelson?You Have To Let Go Of This Rock And Get To Shore While You Still Have Some Strength...COME ON SHANE! DONT YOU WANT TO LIVE! ARE YOU GOING TO HANG ONTO THIS ROCK UNTIL YOU MISS YOUR LAST CHANCE AND LOSE YOUR GRIP, THEN FLOAT AWAY TO YOUR DEATH!? DONT YOU WANT TO SEE YOUR FAMILY AGAIN?! THEY ARE PRAYING FOR YOU RIGHT NOW! YOU HAVE TO MOVE! DO IT NOW! SWIM TO THE SHORE! NOW! ITS RIGHT THERE! JUST A FEW FEET AWAY! YOU MUST DO IT, IT IS NOTHING COMPARED TO WHAT YOU JUST WENT THROUGH! NOW! GO NOW! THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE! NOW! NOW! NOW! DO IT NOW!
I did it, made it to the shore and crawled a few feet up the steep bank out of the water and collapsed. No thoughts were going through my brain, I was numb all over and felt disconnected from my body. Mike Scott was behind me and had not seen the flip, swim or pin but he did see my kayak strained against the log so he pulled into a small eddy on the right bank directly across from me. We were both at a loss for what to do next, he could not cross the river to where I was and he was nearly as exhausted and just as demoralized as I was. Finally, I was able to get back into action and decided that I had to try and free my kayak and gear from the log. The Rock on shore was steep and I inched my way down to the boat and tried to free it by kicking the log to break it, trying to lift up on it, swearing at it, everything I could think of to no avail. It was a small tree, only about eight inches around and 14ft long but it would not budge. Stretching out a hand and laying my body flat against the rock, praying I would not fall in again I started to deflate the kayaks tubes a little, hoping it would wash under and I could catch it in the area below where I made it to shore. Little by little it started to work it’s way under the log and then it popped free and caught the current before I had a chance to grab it. It was quickly caught in the rapids flow and it floated down the river with all of my emergency gear (Gortex jacket, Eureka EXO tent, med kit, emergency sleepign bag, 6x8 ground cloth, cloths, digital camera, wallet, and lots of food) dashing what remaining hope I had of floating out that night and setting up a terrible scenario of being stuck in the narrows in high water with nothing but what I was wearing.
Mike witnessed all this from the opposite bank and we both threw up our hands wondering what to do next. We could not hear each other over the sound of the rushing water so I despondently signaled him to just go on without me down the river and maybe if he could make it out he could initiate a possible rescue (slim chance in the Narrows). I could not see a way for him to get to the left bank and meet up with me and even if he did what good would it do? We both had NRS Bandit kayaks and they are not meant for two people, especially in these types of water conditions. On my side of the river it was sheer cliff walls and even if he made it to the left bank it would require me to swim down to him, something I did not think I could possibly do. He signaled back that he was going to try and ferry across to a large rock on the left bank downstream. Half a minute later I could hear him shouting for me to come down to him. I had to wade out into the current and once it passed my knees I was swept off my feet and around the rock, there was Mike on shore with a throw rope and he pulled me in. We sat there on shore pondering what to do next, going over every possible solution to our predicament while we shared half a cliff bar from Mike’s dwindling food supply. After about ten minutes we finally decided our only option was to shift things around in his kayak, get back on the river and try and paddle out together in his boat.
The Bandit is a great, tough, light inflatable kayak but like I said it’s no good for two people, weighted down with 400lbs it handles like a slug and does not drain water well. 10-15 minutes later, at about 7:15PM the channel split, we hit another log that was hanging out into the water and were both scraped from Mikes kayak. After a brief swim, I was on the upstream side struggling to hold onto the kayak with one arm and a big rock with my body and the other arm while Mike, out in the main current was clinging to the other side. “Don’t let go!” he yelled, as the boat pendulumed-straightened out, swung around and pushed him towards the island in the center of the river. “You have to let go now and get onto that island!” I screamed back “I can’t hold on much longer!” Just as my grip on the kayak was about to give out he let go and swam to the island, I crawled up onto the rock, still holding the kayak and we all made it onto the island.
The island was about 10ft wide and 20ft long and covered entirely in irregular shaped river smoothened rocks. Both of us were in the early stages of hypothermia and shivering uncontrollably as we jerkily tried to remove our dry suits. Mike dumped out the contents of his dry bag:
A pair of jeans
Sweat Pants
Sweat Shirt
Fleece sleeping bag
Fleece hat
Generously Mike offered me some of the booty and we were dry at last but were still shivering and not warming up at all. “Let’s see if we can build a fire,” I said. “Great idea!” replied Mike. We were in the middle of a rapid on a small rock island but there were some twigs, leaves and drift wood lying about which Mike, the fire master, used to slowly coax a fire to life. It was like that scene from Cast Away where Tom Hanks shouts out “Look what I've created. I have made FIRE!” It was amazing how quickly it changed our attitude and warmed both our bodies and spirits. With the light fading we started to try to dry out our sweat soaked thermals that we were wearing under the dry suits and warm our hands and feet. The only food we had left was about four ounces of jerky; for our water we eventually had to drink from the river. We were in for the longest night of our lives. I will spare the details but it was a night of heavy reflection spent trying to get some sleep on the rocks with the life jackets under us for padding and insulation. Time seemed to stand still, I would look at my watch thinking hours had passed and it would only have been thirty minutes. A jet would fly above and I would think it was a flash flood coming to sweep us off our tiny island. For the hundredth time I questioned not if I was going to die, we all do that, but whether I was going to live. Finally the black sky had a tint of gray and the morning slowly came.
We had to self-rescue, we didn’t know if or when help would come and we were less than two hours from making it out. The only way to recover us would have been to rappel down the sheer walls and pull us back up and out. With no food left and limited gear we pushed off at 8:15AM. Within twenty minutes we came to the nastiest rapid I have ever laid my eyes on and we pulled to shore to scout. People have different perspectives on rapid ratings but in our minds, in the state we were in with the equipment we had, this was without a doubt a serious class V and the worst rapid either of us has ever run. I would rather swim Big Drop 2 in Cataract Canyon (again, I did it accidentally once already in 2001) than run this rapid. The walls were straight up with no shore line so a portage was out of the question, after extensively discussing how to run it and thinking it was not possible and that we would likely swim and die we knew we had no choice but to go for it. In my minds eye I can still see the rapid and how we plotted and made the run, we had to go left and miss a boat flipping rock at the top, then go hard right to miss the house sized boulder on the left, then a hard left to get behind the boulder so we did not get sucked into the log jam on the right. After that the rapid quickly continued into another set of huge boulders that constricted the rivers current into a massive vortex just around the bend.
We could not see what was after that vortex but with our experience so far we imagined a dam of logs and we were right. We ran the first half exactly as planned and then set up our line and prepared to meet our fate in the vortex and unknown below. Just as we rounded the first boulder before the vortex I spotted a cheat route on the left and we gave every thing we had and tried to go for it. We didn’t make it, and the current ended up sucking us backwards into the vortex. Just as we had envisioned there was the huge logjam. Most of the current below the vortex was pushing right into it on the right side and going in backwards was the best possible thing that could have happened. Had we gone in face first our momentum would have took us right into it, as it worked out we were able paddle hard forward to get around the backside of the boulder and work our way around and away from the log jam and were then shot out a small channel next to the left bank.
High fives were exchanged multiple times along with screams of joy and for me at least a few tears of relief, my wife was not to be widowed and my young children left fatherless. Shortly after the rapid we passed under a small waterfall and we opened up our mouths to catch some of the liquid. Directly below, on the next bend was my kayak stuck in a log jam. It looked like everything was still in it and the tubes were still partially inflated. We stopped below and tried to figure out a way to extract it or any of the gear but it was not possible unless the water dropped quite a bit. We left it there and launched again, soon we saw Ordervill Canyon on the left shore and I knew we were almost out. At the end of the Narrows trail head we took out the boat at 10:30AM and packed up for the 1-2 mile hike to where the Temple of Sinawava shuttle bus comes in. My incredible, wonderful, beautiful wife had been holding a vigil at the small parking lot next to the river but somehow we missed her and jumped on the shuttle expecting to make contact at the lodge or visitors center. The shuttle driver figured out we were the “missing kayakers” and said that she would call on the radio and have a ranger relay to my wife to meet us at the visitor center.
When we got off the shuttle there were two rangers and a guy named Logan waiting, we were both a bit delirious from the whole experience and I only remember his name because it is the same as our middle child, I think Logan works for the Park Service in some capacity and had run the river before at different levels and was there acting as “translator” for the rangers to get a detailed account of our adventure. They were a great group of people and not angry or chastising at all. From other accounts I gathered, when the level is around 200-400 it is a class II-III run. It turns out that the river flow had gone from a decent and only slightly insane level of 424cfs when we checked in Saturday morning at the backcountry desk to 784cfs by the time we hit Deep Creek due to the weekend warm up and Logan agreed that sections become class IV+ when it gets up to that level. They had thought one or both of us stranded or possibly dead and a rescue-recovery was planned for 1PM if we had not been seen by then. Towards the end of our account to the officials my wife and children appeared beside me, words can not adequately describe the guilt, relief and love that I felt towards them as we embraced.
To sum up, rafting-kayaking-backcountry hiking are extreme hobbies-sports, small problems can become huge obstacles, and this trip went far beyond our comfort levels. Even after this experience I don’t think I could ever give my wilderness trips up though; its what I do, my passion, part of what makes me who I am and I couldn’t live a fulfilled life without them. I have always tried to be cautions and safe, was never an adrenalin junkie or big risk taker. We always have to remember that nature is the one in control and we can do our best to prepare for every conceivable eventuality to no avail. I feel I have been giving a renewed lease on life because things could have turned out disastrously, $1,600 dollars of lost gear; a freezing night spent on a tiny island in the middle of a rapid with no food and only river water to drink was a small price to pay for a refresher course on that lesson.
Shane Rasmsusen
April 24 2006
btw, Mike Scott has a few pictures from the trip that I will post when he develops them, my camera was lost so I have none...and Mike, I Love You Man, but your still not getting my Bud Light! :-)
Finally scanned and posted Mike's photos, they are located here. Unfortunately most of them are before hitting Deep Creek so you cant get a sense of how much water was pushing through the narrows. Taking photos was the last thing on our mind after the confluence :-)