With my time in Cali having come to a close, eyes were set back on Oregon, Washington and Idaho.
Chris and I had made a date with Galen Volckhausen, Hunt Jennings and Jordan Poffenberger. We were on the road North and had a few hours to meet the boys at the car park for Sahalie and Koosah Falls in Oregon. We only had moments to reflect upon the summer sun of California. Once crossing the border into Oregon the window wipers were cranking trying to clear the snow from the wind shield. The notion of turning around and driving straight back to the sun was voiced more than once, but we had had a change of mind set, and were both getting way too excited about stage two of the trip. Waterfalls. Coming from New Zealand, waterfalls are a very rare opportunity for myself and I was amping on the thought of freefall. Upon arrival in the Sahalie car park, Chris and I quickly changed into all of the warm and waterproof clothes we had. The snow was now pumping down, and the banks of the river were glistening white.
Galen was quick to gear up, and before we knew it, we were at the lip of Sahalie.. I was nervous. Real nervous. Trying to minimise the time standing in the snow, I opted to set safety down the bottom to get things going. Somewhat put off by Galen’s over the bars auto eject and loss of paddle, we all rallied downstream to check out Koosah. This was more my cup of tea. Hunt was here last year, and took a savage hit at the base of the falls causing him to lose memory of his last two weeks in Cali! He was keen for redemption, and chose to go first. I was second, and stoked to be rolling into my first big waterfall since Ram Falls almost a year earlier. Both of us had good lines, despite my skirt imploding on impact.
Jordan, Galen and Chris all fired up behind us with sweet lines. Back up at Sahalie, Galen fired off a second lap and lost a second paddle followed by Jordan styling it to set a new C1 waterfall world record.
I’m going to skip over the Ldub and Upper Lewis segment of my trip.We all know those places are awesome, and have been written about many times.
Grave’s Creek on the Olympic Peninsula was first D’d last year by a team from PNW, and hadn’t seen any descents since. Myself, Todd Wells and Eric Parker rallied from White Salmon and spent half a day walking our gear in and scoping as much as we could in the deep committing gorge. This place is unreal! Lush green ferns line every corridor in every direction, and saturate you every time you brush past.
Lowering our kayaks into the gorge at the lip of a 50 footer we were all nervous about what were committing to.
Following Todd into the first waterfall, I realised just how small this crack in the earth really was.
I rolled up stoked, and looked around to confirm that there was in fact no way out of this gorge except downstream. Parker followed, snapped his paddle and got snagged up on a tree in the pool which I quickly had to pull him off. One drop down and we already had the first break down paddle assembled and in use.
Paddling through the next deep gorge, we encountered a rapid with no way through, and what appeared to be no way around! With Parker waiting upstream for Todd and I to make a call on whether we could carry on or not, we undertook a technical and super committing climbing manoeuvre to scoot around the gorge wall.
This was the first of many throw and goes we were faced with deep in the canyon. This really felt like good solid expedition kayaking, and it was taking it’s toll on us all. After almost 6.5 hours of kayaking, we came to a twisting, funnelling 30 footer. Todd won rock, paper scissors again and fired up first. Waiting patiently at the top, I heard nothing… Deciding I needed to chase after him I rolled into the drop and tucked into the funnel. Launching out of the bottom, I was thrown into an unintentional kickflip and landed upright without any sign of Todd. I quickly paddled to the lip of the 20 footer directly below and saw Todd emptying his kayak tucked into the bank holding a snapped paddle. He was sweet, but we were now onto our second and last split paddle. By this stage of the run, we knew we weren’t far from the takeout, and quickly rallied down the river bombing as fast as we could racing the dusk. On arrival at the takeout we were exhausted. We had been on the river for almost 8.5 hours and were mentally and physically shattered. Stoked to be back at the car, we cracked some beers and praised Jah for letting us through unharmed.
Cali was good, but Graves was next level!
Moving on with the Olympic Peninsula tour we thought we should go check out Hamma Hamma Falls. Arriving at the bridge, the three of us jumped out of the car and ran to the bridge like excited school boys about to have our first sexual experience! The flow was good. Throwing on our wet gear we formulated a plan. Todd and I would run the first drop while Eric shot film and photos from the bridge.
We then waited in the pool between the waterfalls for Parker to drop in and join us at the lip of the 60 footer. Smiles were massive and pretty soon I was dropping over the horizon.
Foolishly throwing my paddle, I would never see it again. Even worse, a deck implosion meant that I was now in the water struggling to hold the bank while waiting for the boys to heave me a rope.
Before we got back on the road to White Salmon, the three of us crushed our booty beers (straight spirits in this instance) and said farewell to a very special place that is Olympic Peninsula.