After 3 consecutive summers packrafting some of the most glorious granite playgrounds the high sierras has to offer, the lack of melting snow finally forced team duckybuddies to search for wetter pastures.
Quickly honing in on BC and Washington as the logical plan B,
the Northern Cascades checked all the boxes for a
worthy destination with a plethora of options and relatively simple logistics. If
this crew excels at one thing it is drawing lines on maps and discussing
the potential of connecting a few of them together into a single trip. Slowly a
route took shape, and the result felt not only unique and worthy of a week’s
vacation, but managed to link up some of the best scenery and wilderness
paddling the Cascades has to offer.
 |
| Reverend Thurber on Bridge Creek |
Per usual, our schedules were a bit scattered. Jeff and I arrived a week early and decided to warm up on the PNW classic Cascade Creek. We finished the run with big grins, and our flows of 1600 seemed to bode well for levels in nearby creeks. Will had suggested exploring Swift Creek, an obscure watershed draining the east side of Mt Baker that looked interesting on imagery. We scoured the web for beta and couldn’t find any info from a previous descent, but we both preferred to spend a day exploring something new vs another lap on a section we had already seen. After a few miles of hiking we crossed Rainbow creek and flows looked meager. Another mile of hiking brought us to the second fork, which we hoped would have enough water to make fording the river difficult. Our ankles barely got wet. At this point a reasonable person would cut their losses and head back for another lap on Cascade, or just retreat to the car and enjoy a rest day at the lake drinking some lukewarm Rainiers. But Jeff insisted on hiking further to the upper gorge to get a visual. In for a penny, in for a pound. Upon reaching the upper end of the gorge we realize that a 200 ft vertical rappel was required to reach the river far below. Our throw ropes won’t cut it here. The few glimpses of clean channelized drops below give just enough incentive to continue.
 |
| Upper Swift Creek |
Yet another heat bubble was causing near record temps across the region, rapidly melting any glaciers and remaining snowpack above us. The creek started to rise. 20 minutes of downstream progress and we were able to run our first rapid. Two more portages and suddenly we had enough water to call this paddling. The stream bed was continuous boulder gardens all day long, and with an average gradient of 350 fpm below the gorge the drops were demanding but manageable. We spent all afternoon working downstream a few miles, taking turns scouting and routing the other through some great rapids on beta. This was turning out to be a hell of a day!
 |
| Jeff entering a memorable sequence |
Only two wood portages over the span of the
entire day and every rapid was runnable for us. Flows doubled at the Shuksan confluence,
changing the nature to a big water feel. The soft evening light and the
completion of most of the river left us content with our gamble to come and
explore, but we weren’t finished yet. After running a few more pushy drops we found
ourselves staring into the ominous entrance of the lower gorge. Looking at satellite
imagery the gorge was so narrow that we could barely see anything going on
inside, and the vertical walls made it apparent there was no hiking out midway
through. Our car was parked next to the river, a short 2 miles downstream. If
we could make it through the gorge quickly we could reach the car by dark. The
alternative was a long dark bushwhack through the forest up and around the
gorge. Having already seen the last of the sun for the day, it was clear that
there simply wasn’t enough time or light to get an idea of what we would be in
for if we pushed downstream. Discretion is the better part of valor; conditions
warranted a transition to backpack. Our bear spray had fallen out of my pocket
earlier in the morning and been lost, and as we were deflating the boats a fat bear
waddled towards our beach, reminding us that a night bushwhack might be the
most exciting part of the day! While I wouldn’t say we discovered the next Ldub,
it felt like a first-rate type 2 adventure. If anyone has
paddled the lower gorge of swift creek I would love to hear in the comments
what we missed in there (or didn't).
Soon Dan and Will arrived and we were ready to begin
our 6 day route. The first segment was down Bridge Creek into the Stehekin River
and the class V Tumwater gorge. Realizing that many kayak crews portage the
gorge, we had muted expectations of attempting Tumwater in packrafts at all,
but going at lower flows left it as a remote possibility. As such, 1900 cfs
felt like a good compromise. A last-minute family emergency forced me to start
a day after the rest of the crew, and upon reaching our pre-planned confluence camp
at dusk there were no packrafters to be found. Right around
dark the boys showed up from their second Bridge lap of the day! We baked a
pizza and had a big round of White Russians to celebrate the wilderness reunion
and the fact that the band was back together.
 |
| Pic by Jeff Creamer |
 |
| Lower Agnes Creek |
With some sections of the canyon completely inescapable we split up
and spent hours getting eyes on the creek from the rim. The scout is encouraging but with limited daylight we opt to return tomorrow to increase our margin of safety. Despite a long day ‘on the river’
we had paddled very few rapids, so with 2 hours of daylight remaining we rally another lap on Bridge creek rather than sit around camp
resting. One of my highlights of the trip was Blue Angeling down lower Bridge,
racing back to camp against the oncoming darkness and running everything blind
or on verbal. Back at camp more cocktails and calories. Spending 3 nights at
the same campsite meant not only paddling empty boats for the hardest
whitewater, but eating like kings.
Day 4 - Routing down to the Tumwater entrance led to a quick check-in at the last eddy. Motivation and a solemn nod from each member of the crew. We drop in.
 |
| Agnes Gorge |
Hitting the confluence with the Stehekin put us on the road for an easy hike back upstream. Agnes had gone off without a hitch, leaving plenty of daylight remaining. With a clear team consensus to finish the bottom of Tumwater, Jeff found a way down to the river and we put back in 400 ft downstream of where we had exited 5 hours earlier. The 4 remaining rapids were perhaps not worthy of the extra effort in and of itself, but everyone was still glad that we went to the trouble of lowering back into the canyon to finish the run. An enchanting gorge, and one worth returning for.
 |
| Tumwater Gorge |
It should be obvious by now, the benefit of packraft vs
kayak on trips like this. We ended up walking ~3 drops that we would have
ran in a kayak, but in exchange we got 3 laps on Bridge Creek, two on Stehekin
(one on Tumwater), and one on Agnes. That is not something you can really do
with a kayak unless you are of Stookesberry or Corbullic ilk. For us mere
mortals, shaving 30+ lbs of weight opens up new options and allows you to get
deeper into the wilderness faster, with fewer overall limitations. I still
spend more days in a hardshell every year than my packraft, but if you are
writing off these inflatable boats without giving them a shot then you are
missing out.
A typical Bridge Stehekin run ends with a long ferry ride
followed by a big shuttle. Like each of our previous trips, we decided to add a
twist to the normal itinerary before making it back to civilization. Day 5
always loomed as the day we would earn it as we exited the Stehekin drainage
with a 17 mile hike and 4400 ft climb up and over Park Creek Pass to enter
the Thunder drainage. Will upped the ante by waking up at 4 am and summiting
some peaks near the pass. The more senior members of the team declined his pre-dawn
invite in favor of a few extra hours of rest. The hucks were prime for the
picking and subsequently we made terrible time on the climb, stuffing
our faces with the sweet purple berries every few dozen feet.
When Jeff and Dan suggested Will join this trip, my first
thought was of the added group risk to bring a 2 year paddler on something this
remote and difficult. Most years I am only able to dedicate a single week for
one big trip, and adding additional risk to the only trip of the year was hard
to accept. But I’m thankful for their suggestion. Will brought energy and a
great attitude, plus ample wilderness experience (having won the Bob Open
multiple times), but it was his team mindset that most impressed me. As the 3 of
us crested the pass around noon we found Will had been patiently waiting
hours, having bailed on summiting a few extra peaks out of fear that he would
delay the rest of the crew. Anyone with only two years of paddling experience clearly has plenty left to learn, but it’s refreshing to see someone so
hungry to improve that they are willing to drop into any feature and take a
beating to progress more quickly. Hopefully we were able to provide a bit of
mentoring in return, as this aspect seems nearly absent from the packrafting
world. The Tingeys, Dials, and McCartheys, the Mehls and Curiaks et al.
have got us to where we are today in this nascent sport. It will be the younger
generation like Will who continue the progression. What will that progress look
like? Bigger rapids? Certainly. More advanced boat designs and materials, and
packraft specific techniques? More remote, complex linkups? Multisport trips
combining class V with boats full of climbing, skiing, or paragliding gear? I’ve got
my popcorn ready.
Lunch break at the pass was short lived and we began our
descent into Thunder drainage. The lacking combination of reasonable gradient
and navigable flows compelled us to cover the final 7 miles and 4500 ft descent
from the pass on foot rather than boat. Upon reaching the navigable section of river a brief float to exit the park landed us at camp on a perfect gravel bar,
complete with views of Boston Glacier towering above us in the distance. One of
those rare evenings where you find yourself completely content with a trip that
has gone nearly perfectly to plan. The realist in me knows that these trips are
numbered. Perhaps we will keep it up for another decade or more if the stars align, but
eventually obligations, fading interest, or simply old age will be too much to overcome. In
the end, I realize this will be yet another passing moment gone and try to
savor these brief episodes of real (to me) adventure.
Sunday dawned bright and still. Day 6 - takeout day. Flows in the creek next to camp remained stubbornly high. A major crux of this trip was a narrow window to have runnable flows in multiple drainages. The Stehekin gauge confirmed that we would have ideal flows for the first few days and we got lucky that Agnes was at a good level, but the Thunder gauge was well above our ideal flows for the class V run as we entered the wilderness. With the heat wave dissipating and the snow nearly gone, we had been counting on Thunder dropping considerably during the 5 days it would take us to reach that creek. So as we suited up on a sunny morning in early August, were the flows still too high you ask? Unbeknownst to us at the time, a group of partially sponsored kayakers had hiked into Thunder this same weekend as our descent. They subsequently reasoned in a blog post that they must be the first crew to run Thunder this year on account of the flows being too high for anyone to get in there any earlier. I wouldn’t know if that is true or not, nor does it matter. I only share it to give some context of the flows from a perspective other than my own.
Ultimately the 950 cfs was pretty spicey in packrafts, but it made for an
incredible finale. Thousands of combined days on the water has honed the team’s
judgement on when to carry vs drop in. But all the experience in the world
doesn’t guarantee a risk-free journey, as hazards are not reserved solely for
the unprepared.
Within 30 seconds of launching from camp I hit a barely
submerged branch and flipped, bouncing off a log jam harmlessly into the
current before rolling up. In 5 days of paddling class IV/V whitewater this was
my only flip of the trip, which occurred in dangerous class I. An embarrassing and perhaps cliche reminder
to always stay focused while on the river. Soon after as the creek meandered through a flat
section of gravel bars Dan rounded a corner in the lead and was charged by a mother bear
with cub. Luckily she stopped short of attacking and we worked our way
through a log jam on the far side of the river to give the bears a wide berth.
Downstream below the standard Thunder put in, Trial Falls is the first major - and most intimidating - rapid of the run. Given our close calls early in the
morning most of the crew was quick to dismiss this drop, but Jeff had the slightest
grin peaking out from under his beard as he set to scouting. Safety was set but none needed - Jeff had a
beautiful line.
 |
| Jeff cleaning Trial Falls |
We continued through the gorges, portaging twice and
keeping our hair dry on everything we chose to run. Flows were on the juicy side
for our first lap down the run and sans guide, but we never felt in over our
heads at any point. As we made it through a sheer-walled gorge, someone hopped
out for a brief scout and relayed even briefer beta to the team. We all had
wide eyes as we rounded the corner and found the ‘small hole’ to be a bit more
substantial, but unknowingly getting routed into Triple Threat ended up being one
of the moments from the trip that I still grin about the most.
 |
| Pic by Jeff Creamer |
Greasy cheeseburgers and ice cream consumed. Beers, hugs, and goodbyes shared. The countdown for next summer’s big mission starting fresh. The trips may only last a week or two, but the anticipation runs all year long.
Crew: Dan Thurber, Jeff Creamer, Will Blum, John Baker. Aug
2-7, 2022.
Boats: Alpacka Valkyrie Gen 1 (blue) and Gen 2 (red).
Thunder Video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GRCpX-C2Gz0
Thank you. So awesome. You all continue to keep me happy with your sharp and frosty adventures full of style and grace.
ReplyDelete