Background: This was a 4 day raft trip through Lodore Canyon, which is one of the most spectacular canyons you'll ever see. Bob Horntvedt drew the permit after some hassle, and he invited our family, the Michelson family, Steve&Peary, and his uncle Gary and nephew Brenden. The canyon, as mentioned, is incredible--it's got huge red cliffs on each side. The canyon rises out of the middle of a fairly flat area, earning in the name "The Gates of Lodore." As of now, I've only done it twice. The first time I went through was when I was in 6th grade. I went with my dad, and we were caught napping in Triplet Falls, and that was where I flipped for the first and only time in a raft. The water is big enough to be more than a bit interesting--Devon Horntvedt end-oed a ducky in Triplet this trip, and ol' Steve pinned his boat on a rock (we had to hook a rope up, and it took 5 of us to drag him off). Anyway, this trip was also only my second trip as solo oarsman, but it went completely smoothly.
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| Here are Bob, Colleen (5 years old, cute and smart-alecky as can be) | And Jessi at the oars. |
Brenden, Uncle Gary. This was their first time rafting, and to everyone's
utter astonishment, they failed (despite their best efforts) to kill themselves.
In fact, not only didn't they kill themselves, they were the unintentional vehicles
of Devon Horntvedt's dramatic self-rescue in Triplet.
Devon is a good friend of mine, and we have shared many a raft trip. Every raft trip has a story, and Devon's was the story for this trip. Triplet, as I said above, is the only rapid ever to flip a raft with me in it. The culprit was a slanted rock conveniently placed at the bottom of the rapid where a mess of boulders jut out from a rock wall on river right. This is not, in fact, what got Devon. What got Devon was a huge hole that was somehow completely hidden in the mess of whitewater a little left of center, half-way down. I was behind Devon, and I hit the same thing, and in an 18' raft, it knocked me out of my seat at the helm. For the poor Ducky, bobbing cork though it is, this was just too much. The wavelength was greater than the length of the Ducky, and so the front just got slapped right back over the tail. I was fairly distracted, since I was running a raft, but I do remember seeing the Ducky upside down, and Devon climbing onto it. He did get on, and I saw him trying to paddle, and then the same hole that got him got me, so I couldn't see him after that. When I looked up again, the ducky was right-side up, and bouncing off the rocks at the bottom that had flipped me once upon a time. Devon was nowhere to be found. I know Devon's very competent, so I wasn't too worried, but nonetheless, I was a little on edge. It took me a few minutes (interrupted by my intense interest in preventing a replay of my first trip) to locate Dev. He was in the SOAR with Brendan and Gary. I was confused...