Day 1: Willis
I am lying across the back deck of my
boat, my face is banging down the rocks of the rapid like a child's
ball bouncing down the stairs. "Must find my paddle and roll
up," "where is my paddle?", "my nose hurts,"
"this is giving me a corking headache" It is amazing how
quickly our twitchy brains can run on in what is really mere seconds
between dropping into a hole, capsizing, and running a rapid upside
down pinned on the back deck.
My typical river view
When my paddle parted company from my
hand, I finally did the smart thing which was get out, roll-over and
using my feet and legs as shock-absorbers bump down the rest of the
rapid into the pool below. I managed to grab my boat as it floated
by but the paddle was left for Wildey to scoop up. With help from
Doug, I swam to the side of the river and gave my head a shake.
Kangaroos near Willis
We are somewhere downstream of Willis
on the Snowy River before the planned November release has reached
this far down the river so the water level is, by Wildey's guess
around 0.8 metre. As it turns out, the gauge at McKillops bridge is
reading 0.78 metre, so John's estimate is a pretty accurate.
McKillops Bridge
This is our easy introduction day. It
has been at least 25 years since Doug and I have paddled whitewater.
In that time, the entire sport has changed from the days when we all
paddled long Dancer's and maneuvered cautiously down-river to the now
ubiquitous stubby nosed highly responsive short creekers that have
spawned a whole genre of new kayak moves - boofs, mystery moves, air screws and space godzillas - that make river running an increasingly
technical and athletic endeavor.
Wildey waiting to see if any pieces need picking up
Wildey has run this river so many times
at so many vastly differing water levels, sometimes solo, other times
with more or less competent paddlers that he is the perfect guide.
He knows all the rapids, can efficiently instruct beginners, and
somehow manages to convey a general air of competence that makes you
think this is a perfectly safe endeavor.
Wildey demonstrating standard paddle signals
My goal is simply to track him
down-river following his route through the rapids as near to
perfectly as I can. Sometimes I succeed but more often than not,
John quietly says "you could have been just a little more
left... or right ... or central..." - or even right side up -
"on that one." My memories, which are now hazy with the
dust of 25 years, are of being pushed around by the river and I tend
to hang too far back from the boats ahead to really follow as
diligently as I should. The other problem, of course, is that my
repertoire of strokes is pretty small, and my Prijon Creeker 225 is
way more boat than I am paddler.
More of my precision steering
But it is a fantastic trip. The first
day, is hot and sunny, and, apart from my nose banging flip, I manage
to stay in my boat through all the rapids which are easy at this
water level. Many grade 1 rock races and grade 2 drops. All the
rapids end in big pools so swims are non-threatening, and, unlike
Canadian rivers, there are no strainers and the water will not
immediately induce hypothermia.
River running
We cover 35 kilometres on the first
day, and there are plenty of rapids to refine my rudimentary paddle
skills in. Wildey gives me some helpful tips yet despite trying I
cannot master the quick break-outs that John and even Doug manage
into small eddies and mostly wash through everything to the slower
moving pools at the bottom.
The view from McKillops Bridge
The river is pretty with dry eucalpyt
hill-sides rising 700 metres above; there are sandy beaches, and
rocky gorges. Brightly coloured water dragons plop into the water as
we pass and we see many eagles in the trees lining the river. Late
in the day we reach McKillops Bridge and walk up onto the bridge to
admire the river valley from above. We run another couple of rapids
and then make camp on a grassy bench above a small beach. A steady
north wind is blowing and I have a throbbing headache from my head
pounding so I rest on the grass for a while after swimming in the
river.
Looking down on Dead Horse Camp
Before dusk, as the day cools down, I
walk up the steep but open hill-side above camp and encounter a large
rotting dead horse. As the sun sets, the wind dies and soon our
entire camp is saturated with the sickening smell of rotting carrion.
We call this spot "dead horse camp."
Soft evening light on the Snowy River
Day 2: Loch Ard Gorge:
Overnight the water from the dam
release reaches us and the river is almost twice the height of the
day before. I have some trepidation starting out at higher water,
expecting pushier rapids, but Wildey has assured me that I can
portage anything I don't want to paddle.
Warm-up rapids
Below us is the most popular section of
the river, with the highest concentration of grade 3 rapids where the
river runs through the scenic Loch Ard Gorge. The A Frame rapid
marks the start of the gorge and Little Annie the end. In between
are George's Mistake and the Washing Machine, as well as a plethora
of other rapids.
Water that looks big to me
We are glad to leave Dead Horse camp
behind and paddle downstream to fresher air. The rapids come quickly
and are engaging. My favourite is the Boulder Garden, a roughly
three kilometre section of river which requires some maneuvering around the rocks as the river winds around Campbell Knob.
The Creeker in bigger water
In the last rapid before the
Compressor, I stall in a hole and flip again. No nose bumping this
time, as the water is deep and forgiving, but I blow my two attempts
at a roll, the first by rushing, the second as the blade orientation
is wrong. By the time I bail, I've got so disoriented that I think
Doug and John are trying to shepherd me back upstream.
Wildey below the Compressor
The next rapid is the Compressor, big
water right now, but straight-forward if you paddle the right line.
My confidence has been damaged, however, and I opt to walk around
while Doug runs it twice, a second time in my boat, saving me a
boulder strewn portage.
Doug running the Compressor
Soon we are running the final rapid
above the A Frame where we break out into a small eddy on river
right. I am a bit nervous of this rapid as the usual route, to river
left involves running a narrow shoot and a rapid right turn. It
would be easy to get pushed against the small cliff river left or
miss the right turn and impact the rocks at the bottom.
The Creeker pointed correctly for a change
Doug and John take the left hand route
while I manage to sneak down a similarly narrow chute - the chicken
chute - to river right. In lower water this would be non-navigable
as only a small amount of river flow runs down this side and I do
have to bump over a boulder in the middle of the channel.
Wildey lining up for Georges Mistake
Soon we reach George's Mistake, a two
stage rapid of two larger drops with various rocks and holes in the
rapid. It is easy to land river left and clamber over big boulders
to inspect it. Apparently, if you blow the first rapid there is
insufficient time to recover before the second rapid. I am a bit
intimidated by the volume of water and the size of the holes so
portaging is a no-brainer for me. Wildey expertly runs both drops
while Doug portages the top and runs the bottom.
Doug just visible above Wildey
and buried in whitewater
The portage is safe but hard work as
the loaded boats have to be lifted over big boulders and through
thick blackberry which wraps spiny tendrils around our legs.
Portaging takes a long time and the day
is lengthening when we reach the Washing Machine. One more big rapid
(Gentle Annie) after this and we will have paddled Loch Ard Gorge.
The forecast for the next day is for heavy rain so we want to get
through the gorge before the rain starts. Trying to portage wet
slippery rocks in heavy rain will be no fun.
Wildey in his element
We pull into a small eddy above the
Washing Machine. I am last in and nervous of being washed out and
don't quite understand John's instructions on how to run this rapid.
He says something about "boofing" off a rock in the middle
of the rapid, but I am not sure which rock I am supposed to boof off
and really what is boofing anyway?
Experts always make everything look easy
But, I have such faith in this crazy
Wilde by name Wilde by nature guy that when he takes off and sails
down the Washing Machine and holds his paddle up for me to follow I
do so without thinking. Of course, I am too far right and hit the
biggest hole on the rapid. My entire boat sinks, apparently this is
a mystery move. It's a mystery to me, as the next thing I remember
is a strange sensation of air flying by my face as the boat backflips
from bow to stern - a reverse loop according to Wildey. It would be
impressive had I done any of this deliberately. I have a brief but
violent tumble in the Washing Machine before getting washed out the
bottom. This time I am too disoriented to attempt a roll and bail
out for a long swim to shore. Doug boofs down calmly behind me.
Wildey getting some air time
Finally, we reach Gentle Annie, the
last big rapid that marks the end of Loch Ard Gorge. It has been a
fun, wild, scenic ride, and, despite two swims, I have enjoyed it
immensely. Gentle Annie is a large powerful rocky rapid with big
holes and nasty spots for beginners to get trashed so while Wildey
runs it confidently, Doug and I portage around on river right.
Wildey running Gentle Annie
Just as we finish our portage, the cold
front arrives with strong winds and clouds scudding across the sky
rapidly coalescing into a solid grey ceiling. About 500 metres
downstream is a good campsite by Mountain Creek with clear fresh
water draining out of the hills and protected grassy camping.
View up river from camp
As the rain starts, we quickly unpack,
make camp, get out of soaking clothes and into dry ones and dive into
our tents for the night. We have now paddled almost 70 kilometres
down river and I have lost count of all the rapids we have run.
View from camp
Day 3: Buchan River
The mist lying over the river gorge is
pretty in the morning and the sky looks to be brightening a little.
However, as we take the tent down, the rain begins and continues
heavily, with thunder and lightening for the next several hours.
There are still lots of rapids to paddle and the river remains high.
There are only two or three bigger rapids however where we need to be
careful to avoid smashing into rock walls or being engulfed by wave
trains.
Running rapids in heavy rain
My goal for the day is to avoid
swimming which I manage, but towards the end of the day I think only
just. The longer we sit in the teeming rain, the colder and stiffer
I get and lining up to hit the rapids right behind Wildey seems to
get harder and harder. There are a couple of bigger rapids with long
wave trains which are fun, but when the rain is really heavy it is
hard to see well enough to avoid rocks and I bump more than a few.
Gorge scenery along the river
This section of the river is really
scenic as we paddle under the huge New Guinea cliff and through yet
another rocky gorge. At times however, the rain is so heavy it is
hard to see. At Jacksons Ford we pull out for a short break and then
continue down river. The side creeks are all running now and we
paddle up a short distance up Basin Creek to see the falls.
Doug and Wildey paddling past New Guinea
As we paddle down river the rapids get
more widely spaced and the slower moving pools more prominent.
Beyond the narrow gorge we start to catch glimpses of farmland above.
Wildey deliberately facing upstream,
Me, more inadvertant
Just after a sharp bend in the river,
John turns abruptly to river right and disappears. We have reached
the confluence with the Buchan River and the great Snowy River trip
is over.
Wildey giving us a wave after
expertly running Gentle Annie
This trip would not have been possible
without the expert guidance and fulsome encouragement of John Wilde.
Wildey, I owe you an entire cellar of Green Ginger Wine.
