#i got home from a three day river rafting trip yesterday | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dknuth · 6 years

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Chilko River Rafting

August 26

This was the first day of the Chilko River rafting trip. Yesterday was travel from home to Vancouver. We had been reading about the fires in British Columbia and last week Vancouver had so much smoke that the air quality was the worst of any city in the world. But by the time I got there it was cloudy and raining. So cool and damp, but that’s better than fire and smoke.

The outfitter for this trip is R.O.A.M. who ran the Tatshenshini river trip I was on a few years ago. This morning we met at the Sea Air Terminal on the Fraiser River to take a float plane to Chilko Lake for the start of the river trip. But the cloud cover was too heavy for the float planes to get over the mountains, so after a number of phone calls, Brian found a charter plane with enough space going to Anahim, a few hours away by car from our destination and got us seats on it.

So after the flights and several hours of bad roads we arrived at Bear Camp about 1:00 in the afternoon.

Bear camp is located on the shore of Chilko Lake, which is huge at 65km long.

The camp has a main building /kitchen / lounge / dining room. The rooms are safari tents on a platform about 10 feet off the ground.

Apparently this gets them away from the bears. Why don’t bears go up on the platforms?

Three of us did a several hour hike along the lake. It had a pleasant amount of up and down along the way. By the time we got back to camp at 6 the sky was clearing a bit and we had some sunshine.

August 27

We stayed at Bear Camp another day which was very nice. The facilities were very nice, especially the safari tents and the meals. We woke to fog on the lake,

but since the sky had been clear overnight it burned off pretty quickly. To pass the time we did a hike up Mt. Tullin. It was 3,000 feet up and back down again, so a pretty good hike. From the top we could see far down Chilko Lake, the start of the Chilko River and the Coastal Range off to the west.

August 28

It was a clear morning, a good sign, and we were up early and fitted for wetsuits, PFDs and such before loading up in an old school bus for the trip to the put-in.

Since the Chilko is fed from a large lake the water was very clear. The salmon run had started and there were eagles everywhere! I think there were at least 4 eagles visible at all times.

The Chilko is also fast with lots of rapids. Lava Canyon has the longest whitewater run in North America at over 18 continuous miles. There were lots of other rapids outside the canyon too. We did a total of over 40 miles in one day! That’s a lot of river.

Unfortunately for photography a full day of whitewater means no photos. You have your paddle in your hands at all times and are frequently paddling, so no time to get a camera out. A GoPro would do the trick, but I’ve never bought one.

At one rapid as we came out we found a grizzly snorkeling in the eddy, swimming face down looking for salmon. He was as surprised to see us as we were to see him. He quickly swam to shore and ran off into the brush leaving us to consider the results of falling out of a raft, swimming into the eddy and coming face to face with a swimming grizzly!

#Rafting #chilko #british columbia #canada

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chevasvandel · 4 years

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Firm Ground

COVID-19 has fucked up what I would have considered my usual artistic routine. Before the pandemic, I had it down to a system. A checklist is what it was actually. A checklist of about 10 items that I would make sure I would get done every single day and the result of completing these items would be my own satisfaction as an artist and as a person. Having the rug swept out from under me during this time has left me fighting against my own mind in an effort to produce the same satisfaction. Having been left to my own devices, my art no longer exists as a place to run to in order to escape the realities of my life. Now my tools all lay in front of me everyday like a question beginning to be answered: what the hell are you going to do with this time Chevas?

The past week has been much more adventurous than I think would have been imaginable. I went camping and for the first time in a long time felt camaraderie amongst a group of men. Like on some friendship shit not on some gay shit. But I think as a gay man (at least in my adult years) I haven’t really felt welcomed or accepted in a circle of straight or straight presenting men since maybe when me and my cousins were younger and used to play football or tag or whatever it is we used to play. During the camping trip I got to hold a pocket knife which is just some coolshit in general and I got to hold a gun for the first time. Oh yeah… and I took a shit in the woods which believe it or not felt exhilarating. Toilet paper in hand, I scouted for the best spot and just let it go. I know this is disgusting, but its important for me to recount this particular event because it is a part of this summer experience 2020. Who knows, the world might end soon and I might not get the chance in my old age to sit on my porch and reminisce about the time I shitted my brains out in the open wilderness.

A couple of days ago I went rafting down a river for my friend E’s birthday. Of course we got drunk and high and someone almost died. When I took a shit on the camping trip I felt somewhat dejected by the other men on the trip, because none of them had dared to do what I did. (Why am I always the trendsetter for better or worse) So from that moment on, even though I didn’t regret it I was like, “Well, I’m never defecating or relieving myself out in the open again.” So while we were in the middle of rafting I was like, “Okay we gotta pull over somewhere so I can pee” because in my mind that was the right thing to do and not pissing myself in the middle of the river. I don’t know if that makes sense, but it made sense to my drunk ass at that time. So what I imagined to be like pulling off the highway to stop at a gas station turned into my friends essentially fighting for their lives. We reached a ledge and grabbed on to a tree, but immediately as we tried to stop the current flipped our raft over and there we were: seven people looking like one collective boo boo the fool. Like a megazord from Power Ranger’s except only united by one dumb ass decision and not powerful mechanical robots. Everyone is screaming, but no one can really hear each other. My friend D is essentially holding on to her raft for dear life while the bottom half of the current tries to pull her in the other direction. In front of me is E who is also screaming, but all I can hear is “don’t let go”. In hindsight, I should have just pissed myself…

So eventually we all let go of the raft. Five of us are able to maintain grip of our raft, but J and D (who are practically engaged) are left behind holding on to the branches we were just hilariously flipped over at. As the current pulls the five of us father and father away we see the two of them link and silently wonder, “Is that the last time we’ll ever see them?” Almost immediately E calls 911 and lets them know we have two friends who went overboard. Moments pass and the dispatcher lets us know our friends have been found and that they are safe. E cries. Internally I blame myself and my bladder for the chaos that had ensued. All seven of us, however, feel the pain of the alcohol and weed that was lost once the raft flipped over.

So we all get home and now it's three days later and I have slept the past three days away almost entirely. I sit here on my bed, listening to pop music, and wondering just how my life has gotten here. It feels like yesterday I was fifteen years old living in Arkansas and the past eleven years have all buzzed by in a whirlwind. So much of who I thought I was was wrapped up in this routine I had. Gym, work, school, drawing, painting, music, shower, sleep… I was in a never ending circle that pivoted closer and closer towards success each revolution. Now I stand somewhat motionless. Searching for land where I can build a creative career upon. The most practical thing I can do is build a new daily routine for myself; one that attempts to adapt and maneuvers around the pandemic. But my fear is, what happens when the world changes again and I (yet again) have to adapt. Why can’t I ever have stable ground to walk upon. Why does my life seem to be built upon an ever changing current? I seek firm ground.

#creativewriting #writers on tumblr #poets on tumblr #my writing #journal #journal entry #writing #writers #writer #chevasvandel

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lucianb · 7 years

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California and Alaska

Friday June 23rd

Today is day 7 of our trip, and it is the first time I have worked up enough energy to write. I have been physically and mentally exhausted up until this point, but I feel like I need to play whirlwind catchup to record our adventure so far before I can get to my current thoughts. I am writing this from the deck of Denali Brewing Company in Talkeetna Alaska. Everyone around us has a southern accent and we have a view onto the one road that leads through town (there is a lot of “one road” in Alaska). This place is packed with people from off the train on their way up from one cruise or another, an industry which keeps this town alive. After miles of nothing, being surrounded by people is a little jarring.

Saturday June 24th

I am writing this the next morning on the porch of our cabin, after being greeted enthusiastically by a brace of golden retrievers. The sun is at the same level it has been at practically our whole time here, which hasn’t been as much of an issue as I was expecting. I guess my new habit of taking naps has conditioned me for sleeping in the sunlight.

I feel like my brain is running processes that are eating up all of my RAM, and despite not doing a ton of strenuous stuff, the system updates are slowing me down. At the conscious level, I feel like nothing has changed. I talk about my plans, leaving my job, my new program, but it feels abstract, like it is happening to someone else. I suspect my brain is protecting me from too much at once, but I would appreciate it letting a bit more slip through so I could more quickly come to terms with how much my life will be changing.

Let me back up a bit. My final few weeks at work I was counting down the days until I was done. Time seemed to crawl. I would go sit at my desk, with work the last thing on my mind. Both at work and at home, anything mildly mentally strenuous seemed like more than I was equipped to handle. I was incapable of planning of any kind. Stuck looking towards the future but unwilling to do anything about it. I took solace in the cat, bad tv, and time with friends. Time alone seemed to yawn ahead of me endlessly. Then, abruptly, we left. I said my goodbyes at work and shuffled off into the sunset with my hiking bag.

When we landed, we headed to Alameda, going through familiar territory on our way to Chris and Maria’s. I have been back to California since we left in 2013, and returning felt like I was just jumping back into my old life. Laura on the other hand, experienced the same shock that I did my first time back; descending into that uncanny valley of the same but slightly different.

Sonoma was a blast. Mallory joined us for a day of Lagunitas and catching up in the hot sun, and Emily stayed with us in a tiny, hot KOA cabin for two nights, canoeing down the Russian River in 105 degree weather. We passed an endless stream of families cooling off during our paddle, and we navigated as best we could through the bodies and the whirlpools. After, we went to Russian River brewing and partook in style, drinking sours and bringing enough bottles back to last us the rest of the trip.

In Santa Cruz, we visited all of our old haunts. The bookshop, the sock shop, verve coffee, Henry Cowell and the redwoods… I even climbed in my old climbing gym, which feels smaller every time I go back. I struck up a few conversations with climbers there, climbed worse than I expected, and met Laura back on the beach. Our bodies sporting weird sunburns after falling asleep on the beach, we would have low key nights in our airbnbs.

We have now spent three nights in Alaska, but it barely feels like we have done anything. Our first night we got in after 11 PM, and Joey took us in his converted taxi to Cook Inlet to see the midnight sun. The next day, we explored Anchorage, met Greg and Moira at the Bubbly Mermaid for champagne and oysters, and then went with Joey to a bar and back to his place for games. Yesterday we explored Talkeetna and went for a 4 mile walk around the Talkeetna lakes. We are going rafting today, which I will write about soon.

Sunday June 25th

I am writing this from our campsite in Denali. On our way up from Talkeetna we picked up supplies, and we are enjoying our homemade pita pizzas just like we made when we were campers…

Monday June 26th

Funny how I start an entry and then get too tired to continue. I could write about our writing trip like I promised, or about our hike around horseshoe lake (easy but stunning), but right now I am buzzing after our discovery hike today. This is what I have been looking forward to more than anything in the whole trip, and it didn’t disappoint. So the way this works is, up to 11 lucky people sign up for a hike with a ranger who has done some scouting. They don’t know the exact route or terrain, but generally have some idea. You hop off the bus somewhere along the one road that runs through Denali (only buses and bikes allowed), and just walk into the wilderness. No trails, no nothing.

Because the spots are so limited, when we got to Denali we jetted for the visitor center worried we wouldn’t get on the trips over the next two days. When we got there, we found out that only 4 people had signed up. It seems that most people who visit Denali stay on the bus, and those that don’t go much deeper into the wilderness, backpacking without a ranger.

After a very chilly night in our tent, we woke up, left the comfort of our tent, and made sandwiches while we tried to get our bodies to stop shivering. An hour and a half bus ride down the one road in the park, and our small group got off and left all trails behind. We climbed up areas no people have been this season, our only company a trio of curious sheep. It was gorgeous when we reached our first windy vista, with untouched landscape in all directions. Denali is vast, about the same size as the state of Massachusetts, and it is hard to get a sense of the scale of the place without actually visiting.

After lunch, we made it down a steep scree slope, up another ridge, and were slapped in the face with an amazing view of Denali’s peaks. The day ended with some bushwacking and creek crossings, and a nice nap on the way back. Last night, I got anxious about my impending trip to Norway. 14 days hiking, 17 days traveling alone… Why was I doing this? Back on the trail, I remembered how much I love being out in the wild. I reach this state of being I can’t find anywhere else. There may be discomfort, but that discomfort is the reason I have the trail to myself or with a small group of like-minded people, instead of spotting animals from the bus.

In our time in Denali, we have seen moose of all sizes, birds, sheep, and tons of ground squirrels. It would be nice to see bears or wolves, but not during our hike tomorrow please! Sitting here, drinking a beer, I am so thankful that I have this time in Alaska with Laura. I had grown skeptical in Anchorage and Talkeetna, but I am well and truly sold. Now I am wishing we had more time up here!

June 30th

I am writing this in Girdwood five days after I last wrote. I really need to step up my game. The second discovery hike was deeper into the park, but was much mellower. Our ranger was an old-timer from Tennessee who encouraged us young folks to just go wandering into the park by ourselves. He had had many run-ins with bears during his time working in Denali, and was much less worried about running into one than our first ranger. Our walk was shorter, less pretty, but we saw a ton of wildlife. We saw a massive herd of caribou, grizzly bears, and an alpha wolf, running across the tundra at an alarming speed. It was a reminder of just how wild Denali is, and how much more there is to see there. The mountain itself calls to me, and the park is the best reason I can think of to come back to Alaska.

We left Denali wanting more, and did the long drive down to Seward. It rained our whole time there, but it wasn’t a total wash. We ate fantastic seafood chowder, and did the Harding Icefield Trail that I had been looking forward to. It was 9 miles with 3,000 feet of elevation gain. We passed through forest, above the treeline, through the snow, and eventually above the glacier itself. I was a little sore at the end, but I feel even more confident about my trip to Norway. The hike was covered with curious marmots, running across the snow, or chomping on flowers. Hiking through the Alps, seeing a marmot was a big deal, and they kept their distance. These marmots seemed pretty used to humans, and went about their adorable business.

We then headed for Girdwood for the beginning of wedding stuff, which was surprisingly stressful I have been away from the real world for a while, and it was a reminder that life is still going on outside of our vacation and I still have responsibilities that I will have to reckon with. Greg is doing really well, and I am super happy for him. This will be my first Catholic wedding that I am in the wedding party, so I am going to do my best not to mess anything up. It is great to have the gang back together again, probably for the last time until the next wedding. I am loving the mini-reunion, but after recovering over the past few weeks and feeling more like myself, these late nights are tiring me out again.

July 5th

10:15 PM our last full day in Alaska and I am feeling really antsy. I am tired, but sleep seems like the worst idea. Transitions have always been hard for me, as I have said over and over again in these pages.

So. The wedding. The whole thing just felt so surreal. The whole catholic wedding with a wedding coordinator thing means much less responsibility for the bridal party. We walked in, stood where we needed to, sat where we needed to, and took some pictures. There were also 8 of us on each side which changed the feel significantly. Being in the church, large parts felt so different from what I have come to think of as a wedding. The catholic rites and rules are just so intense, with call and response, pomp and circumstance, and the flesh and blood of Christ.

The reception was fun, and we drank more after the wedding when we were asked to take a keg back with us after the reception. The next day, we took a train to a nearby glacier, got lost on an adventure, and then hung out with the bride and groom later that night.

July 11th

It is Tuesday, we left Alaska on Friday. My sleep schedule is still all out of whack, staying up late and waking up late like I haven’t since I was a teen. It is about 2 PM and I just left the house. I still haven’t eaten.

I could write about Homer and kayaking, otters, puffins, eagles, and beautiful bays, but let’s leave it at saying check out the pictures we took and add Homer to the list of places people should go when they go to Alaska. What has been on my mind is the return of my drive, and my desire to keep moving forward. Being in Alaska was a great break from all of the stress that I put myself through. I was able to live in the moment for most of the trip, despite what I have written here, and I really enjoyed where I was. I wasn’t making lists, asking myself what I should be doing instead of whatever I was doing at the moment, unlike now. Even writing this entry is me scratching something off of my to-do list. I am energized by doing. I get a feeling from completing tasks that I can’t get from anything else, but the PhD is this monolithic thing looming over me that I can’t start working on. This will be the longest and most difficult endeavor I have ever undertaken, and I have no idea what I am getting myself into.

That said, I have seen some of the bios of the people that will be in my doctoral cohort. They are an intimidating group, but Laura reminded me how lucky I am to have these people as my peers. I will of course be worried about keeping up, but that is the kind of environment I do best in. Give me more than I can handle. Trust me to grow, to fill the role. I sure ain’t perfect, but I work until I literally can’t any more. I may be nervous about the future, but I got this. Well, I’ve got this after I grab some lunch.

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