PSG-1
Well-known member
Last weekend, we took a trip to Columbia, SC, and kayaked the Lower Saluda River between Lake Murray Dam and Columbia. Unlike most people who kayak this type of river, we were not in the 'eskimo' kayaks, we used our sit-on-top kayaks.
The purpose of the trip was to have a little fun, but it was also for me to do some studying on the behavior of a river with rocks and rapids, as I've had this urge to take my jetboat into some rivers like this. Well, I can say the urge is now gone!
The first 5 or 6 miles from Saluda Shoals park was flat water with a few riffles, and I was even saying "hey, this doesn't look bad, I would run my jetboat in this any time" There were a few rocks, but you could read the water and see where they were.
Then we got below I-26, where the rapids start. On the very first rapid, known by locals as "Oh Brother Rapids" I saw a johnboat about halfway down, and could tell by the sound of the engine it was an outboard jet. They were slowly making their way to the lateral step at the beginning of the rapids, once they got to the top, he was on the throttle, but they weren't going anywhere. Then I saw them back down, and drop anchor. My guess is that he may have been swept over that lateral step, and couldn't make it back up, due to cavitating in aerated water, and worrying about hitting a rock.
I got to thinking "that could happen to me" which made the thought of bringing my jetboat up there quickly seem like a bad idea.
Another thing I noticed is that you don't always see a downstream rock, until you're right on top of it. A few times, it was like the rocks were bobbing in and out of the water like buoys (I'm guessing that's caused by the force of water rushing against them) One minute you didn't see it, then all of a sudden, there it was, and in an actual boat, it would be too late to maneuver around it. Some of the rocks you wouldn't see until you were right on top of them, then you'd see the ripple on the downstream side of them. I ran across several like that, which would throw my kayak off balance. I managed to stay on, at least until I made a major blunder.
We arrived at the area known as Mill Race Rapids, just up from Riverbanks Zoo. This was the site of a coffer dam that was dynamited twice, and there are jagged rocks and re-bar in that area. Under normal flows, it's a class 2-3 rapid. At high flow, it can be a class 5. When we left the house for the trip, I checked the river forecast, and it said it was in the blue range, meaning, less than 2000 CFS. But when we were on the river, I saw the water level was up to the yellow range on the poles, meaning it was much higher than it was supposed to be. I checked the forecast when we got home, it was 3500 CFS, nearly triple the amount we expected.
As we approached Mill Race, you could hear the rushing water several hundred yards before getting to it. My girlfriend did the smart thing, she paddled to the hill. We portaged her kayak around that dangerous stretch, a wise decision on her part. But not this idiot. As I walked back to my kayak, I kept looking at the rapid, thinking "I really ought to portage around this" but ignored that gut instinct, and decided to try it anyway.
Well, I made it about halfway down, and I made the mistake of stopping my paddle strokes, trying to guage where to go next. Out I went, into 62 degree water, in a class 3 rapid. My feet hit bottom, and I felt rocks with moss all over them. My first thought was the re-bar. My second thought was my leg getting stuck in a rock crevice, and having either a broken leg, or being pinned down by the current and drowning. Yes, I had on a vest, as well as a surfboard leash that secured the kayak to my leg to keep it from getting away, but I don't think that would help much if my leg got trapped. So, I tucked my legs up under me like a cannon ball, flipped my kayak back over, and scrambled on, and rode the rapid the rest of the way down, hanging on.
Now, I've been whitewater rafting 25 years ago on the Nantahala River in NC, and even fell out in some rapids, but that was on an actual raft made for the purpose, and with people in the raft close enough to pull me out of the water. Not this time. There was no one in the water to get me out, except me. Needless to say, it was terrifying, and I've been on the water 30 years.
From there to Columbia, there were a few more small rapids, but nothing like Mill Race. Still, it seemed like I found every rock in that river, then every other rock from the confluence of the Broad and Saluda, to the bridge at Columbia. In this short stretch of the Congaree River, a lot of the rocks were covered up, just enough that they weren't visible, but still shallow enough to be problematic. Every time I hit one, it took everything I had to not flip over. Near the Hampton Street bridge, I looked back, and my girlfriend found one of those rocks, and had gotten stuck on top of it. I know she was cussing the rock, the river, and me, I was just a little too far to hear it! (She started getting pissed off right after Mill Race, I guess seeing me in that rapid scared her more than it did me) I started paddling back against the current to assist her, but she managed to free her kayak without incident.
Finally, we arrived at the Gervais Street Bridge haul-out. Never been so glad to see a boat landing as I was that afternoon. Some valuable lessons learned from that trip. I already have a respect for the water, but going through something like this will give you a new-found respect, that's for sure! After seeing what it's all about, any urge I may have had to take my jetboat into a river like that is DEFINITELY gone! Flipping or grounding a kayak is one thing, but a 1200 pound aluminum boat is another.
We definitely picked one serious river for our first river kayaking trip, as it is rated as whitewater, much more swift than any river we could possibly encounter in our local area. But, if we're able to run that, I think we can run anything in a kayak. Our next trip, we plan to run from Blewitt Falls Dam near Rockingham, NC, to Cheraw, SC. That's another stretch of river I had once considered jet boating. So, we're going to kayak it, that way, I can learn another lesson about a river where my boat has no business being.
With that said, I also have a new respect for the guys that are brave enough to take their boats onto these types of rivers. Y'all have a lot more guts than I do! :mrgreen:
The purpose of the trip was to have a little fun, but it was also for me to do some studying on the behavior of a river with rocks and rapids, as I've had this urge to take my jetboat into some rivers like this. Well, I can say the urge is now gone!
The first 5 or 6 miles from Saluda Shoals park was flat water with a few riffles, and I was even saying "hey, this doesn't look bad, I would run my jetboat in this any time" There were a few rocks, but you could read the water and see where they were.
Then we got below I-26, where the rapids start. On the very first rapid, known by locals as "Oh Brother Rapids" I saw a johnboat about halfway down, and could tell by the sound of the engine it was an outboard jet. They were slowly making their way to the lateral step at the beginning of the rapids, once they got to the top, he was on the throttle, but they weren't going anywhere. Then I saw them back down, and drop anchor. My guess is that he may have been swept over that lateral step, and couldn't make it back up, due to cavitating in aerated water, and worrying about hitting a rock.
I got to thinking "that could happen to me" which made the thought of bringing my jetboat up there quickly seem like a bad idea.
Another thing I noticed is that you don't always see a downstream rock, until you're right on top of it. A few times, it was like the rocks were bobbing in and out of the water like buoys (I'm guessing that's caused by the force of water rushing against them) One minute you didn't see it, then all of a sudden, there it was, and in an actual boat, it would be too late to maneuver around it. Some of the rocks you wouldn't see until you were right on top of them, then you'd see the ripple on the downstream side of them. I ran across several like that, which would throw my kayak off balance. I managed to stay on, at least until I made a major blunder.
We arrived at the area known as Mill Race Rapids, just up from Riverbanks Zoo. This was the site of a coffer dam that was dynamited twice, and there are jagged rocks and re-bar in that area. Under normal flows, it's a class 2-3 rapid. At high flow, it can be a class 5. When we left the house for the trip, I checked the river forecast, and it said it was in the blue range, meaning, less than 2000 CFS. But when we were on the river, I saw the water level was up to the yellow range on the poles, meaning it was much higher than it was supposed to be. I checked the forecast when we got home, it was 3500 CFS, nearly triple the amount we expected.
As we approached Mill Race, you could hear the rushing water several hundred yards before getting to it. My girlfriend did the smart thing, she paddled to the hill. We portaged her kayak around that dangerous stretch, a wise decision on her part. But not this idiot. As I walked back to my kayak, I kept looking at the rapid, thinking "I really ought to portage around this" but ignored that gut instinct, and decided to try it anyway.
Well, I made it about halfway down, and I made the mistake of stopping my paddle strokes, trying to guage where to go next. Out I went, into 62 degree water, in a class 3 rapid. My feet hit bottom, and I felt rocks with moss all over them. My first thought was the re-bar. My second thought was my leg getting stuck in a rock crevice, and having either a broken leg, or being pinned down by the current and drowning. Yes, I had on a vest, as well as a surfboard leash that secured the kayak to my leg to keep it from getting away, but I don't think that would help much if my leg got trapped. So, I tucked my legs up under me like a cannon ball, flipped my kayak back over, and scrambled on, and rode the rapid the rest of the way down, hanging on.
Now, I've been whitewater rafting 25 years ago on the Nantahala River in NC, and even fell out in some rapids, but that was on an actual raft made for the purpose, and with people in the raft close enough to pull me out of the water. Not this time. There was no one in the water to get me out, except me. Needless to say, it was terrifying, and I've been on the water 30 years.
From there to Columbia, there were a few more small rapids, but nothing like Mill Race. Still, it seemed like I found every rock in that river, then every other rock from the confluence of the Broad and Saluda, to the bridge at Columbia. In this short stretch of the Congaree River, a lot of the rocks were covered up, just enough that they weren't visible, but still shallow enough to be problematic. Every time I hit one, it took everything I had to not flip over. Near the Hampton Street bridge, I looked back, and my girlfriend found one of those rocks, and had gotten stuck on top of it. I know she was cussing the rock, the river, and me, I was just a little too far to hear it! (She started getting pissed off right after Mill Race, I guess seeing me in that rapid scared her more than it did me) I started paddling back against the current to assist her, but she managed to free her kayak without incident.
Finally, we arrived at the Gervais Street Bridge haul-out. Never been so glad to see a boat landing as I was that afternoon. Some valuable lessons learned from that trip. I already have a respect for the water, but going through something like this will give you a new-found respect, that's for sure! After seeing what it's all about, any urge I may have had to take my jetboat into a river like that is DEFINITELY gone! Flipping or grounding a kayak is one thing, but a 1200 pound aluminum boat is another.
We definitely picked one serious river for our first river kayaking trip, as it is rated as whitewater, much more swift than any river we could possibly encounter in our local area. But, if we're able to run that, I think we can run anything in a kayak. Our next trip, we plan to run from Blewitt Falls Dam near Rockingham, NC, to Cheraw, SC. That's another stretch of river I had once considered jet boating. So, we're going to kayak it, that way, I can learn another lesson about a river where my boat has no business being.
With that said, I also have a new respect for the guys that are brave enough to take their boats onto these types of rivers. Y'all have a lot more guts than I do! :mrgreen: