Stick around. More to come.
The following is a work in progress, intended to give actual trip info when there is a leader and date. Also it includes rivers that have been run in the given month, and are waiting for people to take them on this year. For now Eric is administrator of this site. He will very happily allow another member to claim this pleasure.
JANUARY
?
FEBRUARY
17-19, Eel River, Eric Rasmussen, (510)910-0411, ericsrasmussen@yahoo.com
Navarro?
MARCH
2 or 9, Elkhorn Slough, Eileen Nolan, p_e_nolan@sbcglobal.net
Navarro
APRIL
Russian River, Jan Dooley, jandooley@hotmail.com, date TBD
Navarro, Gualala
MAY
Gualala
Memorial Day Eel
JUNE
Gualala
Jeremy Peacock suggestions: Noyo & Carson – jakkindustries@gmail.com
JULY
AUGUST
SEPTEMBER
Trinity, Eric Rasmussen (510)910-0411. ericsrasmussen@yahoo.com
OCTOBER
Stanislaus/Tuolumne, Bob & Joan
NOVEMBER
Jeremy: Consumes
Send a quick comment to let me know someone is reading this, otherwise I am going to shut it down.
Kit
So, if anyone out there has a contribution to make to the POST blog please send it to me at my kihkew@gmail.com address.
Kit
By Eric R. trip leader
Trip was on 1/19/19
posted to POSTCANOECLUB very late on 03-13-2019
This weekend was the first nature outing since the prospect was discussed at the POST Christmas party. Looking at wildlife is a feature of all our trips; and birds as bald eagles and great blue herons are common sights, so what would be different about a “nature trip?”
One thing would be the pace. Instead of needing to get off the river by dark, and consequently to paddle steadily except when somebody flipped, nature trips would be leisurely. We would slowly meander, taking all the time it took to spot and enjoy the wild things that intrigued us. To facilitate this, such outings would be nearer to home, not five hours distant. And the rivers would be gentle, so our attention could go to observing the lives of other creatures, not just to saving our own.
To get a better idea how to have a good adventure without taking the usual risks, I signed Jane and I up for an REI kayak birding class. With the week preceding the trip being the wettest of the season, we had some concern. Would there even be an outing? Would we care?
But Saturday, January 19, was dry, and we made it to the parking lot of the Consumnes River Preserve by 9:30, a half hour early. We parked beside the trailer with the ten expedition kayaks, and introduced ourselves to Ryan Wells, who we later learned not only leads trips for the co-op, but teaches at a Grass Valley charter school that features outdoor learning.
Another student, Michael, joined in. He was in knee high rubber boots, which, combined with his generous disposition, quickly rendered him our MVP (Most Valuable Paddler). He got started by helping me get our tandem Blue Hole off the Sienna. Then he stood on the cement path at the bottom of the grassy slope beside the van and caught the sliding boat. I’d been warned by a friend who’s birded here before that the path to the launch is long, so I brought along the set of boat wheels I bought some decades ago at a POST yard sale. Those wheels weren’t needed.
When Michael caught our boat he was standing on the cement path, in about a foot of water. So he easily spun it so Jane and I could board without getting our own feet wet. Soon all 6 of us were paddling above the path, passing pathside signs and a dog poop bag dispenser. A generous amount of the wet from last week was still in the Consumnes, and we were grateful. It was much easier to float above the long ribbon of cement than to carry a boat along it.
But the high water wasn’t so good for bird-watching. As Ryan explained, after we’d made our way past the path and on through the woodsy, mossy slough, without seeing a single bird, the now deeper river had no shallows. And many migratory birds are not ducks, but waders that need to keep their feet on the bottom.
Later on we did see a flying duck or two that looked to me like the resident Mergansers we often see on the wild rivers we frequent.
As it turned out, while we saw few birds, a couple of those few were uncharacteristically obliging. At the end of the second slough we explored, atop a telephone pole, was a large black bird. We all kept paddling toward it, and staring. Before long we saw its red head. One of the paddlers, Heather, during introductions told us she especially enjoyed watching Turkey Vultures soar. This one seemed happy watching us paddle.
Before we left the parking lot Ryan confided to Jane and I (he could tell by our battered boat and faded PFD’s that we were old salts) that he wasn’t sure how far our group would venture.
“This high water will create strong eddy lines in the main river, and sometimes participants on these wildlife trips have little to no kayak experience and I have to give them considerable instruction.” This won’t be a POST problem.
Michael has visited this preserve many times and had his own kayak. Heather and Peggy, our other member, used REI boats with enough skill and strength to also go against the current and cover the quarter mile from our entry slough to that second one where we saw the vulture.
In trying to anticipate how to best enjoy nature from a boat, I’d imagined several people at a time pausing to enjoy the special sights. That happened for all of us under the Turkey Vulture.
But when we were on the main Consumnes paddling either against or with the current to travel to the other quiet slough, we neither paid much attention to the shore, nor could have stopped if we wanted to. Instead of quiet eddies, there were strainers, which Ryan wisely cautioned us to avoid. And we did.
So easy group nature viewing requires easy water. Otherwise the paddlers are too preoccupied avoiding injury, as well as too strung out (as in a long line) to all enjoy a single sight. Not that everybody has to see the same things at the same time, but it is fun.
The second thing we all got to see on Saturday was another large bird that usually takes to the air before it’s even spotted. But this Great Blue Heron remained on its riverside perch until all six of us passed very close by, near enough to see its jaw tendons twitching, and its beak open wide, as if yawning. Maybe it was trying to threaten us away. Finally it did flap its huge wings and fly off between the trees.
Shortly after seeing this big bird we came back to our flooded entry trail and began packing up. In the parking lot Ryan told me of some other places he thought we’d enjoy: the Yuba and Lake Clementine, a reservoir above Auburn, that has paddle-in camping from May to September. He also thought we’d like to camp on Tomales Bay at its paddle-in sites.
While this trip did not yield the vast number of bird sightings that are common in this migratory area, nor muskrats or otters, we’re glad we took it. We got way out of Dodge (spent the night in Galt), and being on top of more water than expected was largely a benefit. Paddling in a flooded winter woodland (many of the trees over us were Oaks!) was eerily wonderful.
So we’re hoping that others of you will join us on future easy paddles, and contribute to growing our store of possible destinations. Especially if we get some responses to this report, I’ll aim to get a few trips for this year on the POST schedule by the end of March. And if you’re a spontaneous sport, let me know and I’ll put you on a quick call roster for short-notice outings.
email to kihkew@gmailcom
Let’s Beat the Wind
by Eric Rassmussen
No matter how deep into the wilderness we paddle, we immediately try to civilize the place. Alan and Kate did this our night at Basin Creek. The hit of this site is the waterfall, and immediately after we got there Sunday afternoon, kids were jumping from its top into the pool. Neither Kate nor Alan leapt in; they sat in the shade below to watch and cheer the kids. Then, a little later, they brought up their tent and provisions and set up housekeeping a few feet from the pool edge.
As they’d served breakfast Sunday morning, I walked to their poolside site during the Monday breakfast, when we were on our own and I needed whitener for my black tea. The main kitchen was on the beach beside the Eel, so to get to Kate and Alan’s, it was a trek across sand and big gravel to the narrow cleft the creek cuts after its fall, then a few steps up to the compact tent. Between it and the pool Kate and Alan sat comfortably, in chairs, and on the table by them was the quart of Half and Half I sought. They generously shared it.
On this trip a dream came true for me. My son, Krag, and his children, Collin, 13, and Delaney, 12, paddled with us – their first POST experience. I assured Delaney this would be “Better than Disneyland.” The kids were in Kiwi Kayaks thanks to Eileen, and Krag was bow in my venerable Blue Hole that Kit and Charlie gifted Jane and I for our 2002 Oregon wedding. Jane and I paddled that boat away from our Alsea River nuptials.
Since then it’s been on many POST runs. Originally it was used in a recreation program at UCSF, where it was effusively fitted with D-rings, making it perfect for canoe camping trips like this.
Krag and I tested the rings a mile or so before our first campground. I let the heavily laden boat get pushed up against a rock, but remembered to “Kiss the Rock” and so returned the boat to a dry level. Krag is new to canoeing, but a powerful athlete and had provided great strength in moving our freighter along the river. He, too, saw the rock, and just after I kissed it, he did the instinctive thing and leaned away from it. The bags of gear were already listing to the same side, so we flipped right over. We were in no rocky rapid, and soon walked our craft to the opposite shore and righted it.
Thanks to those aforementioned attachments, our bags and chairs were still snuggly secured. I began bailing the hundreds of gallons of river out with my half a bleach bottle. With a snort, Krag went to the high end of the boat and rolled it. The river inside immediately flowed home. So we soon got back in, kept paddling, and talked about kissing rocks.
There were seven kids on this trip and as soon as we all got to that first campsite beside the mountain of a rock, they, likely following Arvid, immediately ran to the top of the steep, sandy slope above the big eddy, then tore down it and leaped into the pool. Since first putting in, we wise elders had been concentrating on staying dry. Had we missed the point?
Soon the kids divided themselves into teams and scrambled all over the rocks to capture the flag. And when they finally tired, they went, or were called, to the rocky beach point where the kitchen was in full operation and hot pasta and sauces, thanks especially to Roy and Sally, were ready for scooping.
The rocky point was a good site. It was close to the boats, so no long cooler carries, and it was surrounded by rocks and water, substances that did not get into our eyes or mouths when the wind came up. And it did. It was still blowing after we got into our tents, and slapped fabric sides. In between its slaps we heard the crickets.
In the morning we were reminded by Roy that the wind would likely come up again on our way to the takeout, so we would paddle beyond Basin Creek this day, after a brief play stop there.
Journal, Sunday, 5/27, In tent, 10pm
Tonight there’s no wind. Some crickets, but mostly falling water sounds. Not pre-recorded or virtual. Totally live. From the cascade about 50’ away.
I’m happy. This is by the waterfall ledge I sought whenever POST used to stay on this side, years ago. I always wanted my family to experience it too, and now they are.
It wasn’t leader Roy’s plan to spend the night here, though others of us, as John Garvey, also cherish this place. But Roy wants to keep us from the nightmare wind that often wreaks havoc on the paddle to the McCann take-out in the morning, so he planned to stay farther downriver. But first we’d stop here.
Immediately, Collin leaped off the ledge by the fall. Delaney soon scrambled up to the same spot and stood ready at edge of the ledge. After a couple of minutes she scratched her side. Five of so minutes later she said, to no one in particular, “I really want to jump, but I’m scared.” Then took a couple of steps back and sat down. Soon she was back at the ledge. She made this circuit a half dozen times, convincing we several adult fans that she was almost as determined as scared.
I knew the feeling. Some forty years ago I went through the same motions and agony about twenty feet above a Santa Barbara pond. For a half hour, before finally jumping.
Then I got a grandfather’s idea.
“Delaney, how about jumping from that spot over there?”
The ledge I pointed to was about half as high. She went to it and jumped. Then got out of the water, climbed to the top, and leapt. We were all delighted, and clapped and cheered loudly.
You’d think after such adventures this girl would exclaim how great the trip was, but about two o’clock on Monday, our last day, she said, loudly and clearly, “Papa, this ISN”T better than Disneyland.”
Laney does notice when things aren’t going well, and there had been a couple of imperfections that anybody would regret. Though she’s a star athlete, and often travels far to competitions, she didn’t find paddling the Kiwi compelling. The primary problem wasn’t the boat, but the paddle, which when lifted, as it must be every stoke, let water run down and onto her, soaking her clothes. Her paddle happened to be missing a washer that usually keeps the water from running down the shaft. She didn’t complain every stroke, but had reason to.
Collin had gotten a complete paddle that didn’t drip, and perhaps because of his greater size, and recent wrestler conditioning, was easily able to keep in the middle of the canoe pack.
Despite her strength, and prowess in track, basketball and soccer, paddling tired Delaney, and probably bored her. Late Saturday her Dad and I attempted to give her some relief and started towing her, she still in the kayak. This went well for a long time, and I began to let go of my nagging misgivings.
Then Krag and I careened into a small boulder. We both kissed it and went quickly past. Delaney’s small craft slipped behind the boulder, then caught in a wedge between two rocks just ahead. Our Blue Hole jerked to an abrupt stop, and we swiveled to see Laney swimming. We’d swamped her. Our mission to keep her dry was suddenly all wet.
Maybe because she had gotten a couple of hours of relief, she took the swim in stride, and wasn’t upset. But she probably stowed it in her random memory.
The real win for Disneyland came, as all knew it might, on the day after we stayed at the Falls. Thank you, Roy, for letting us do that! Not long after lunch on that fateful Monday the lazy holiday ended, and not so very far from the take-out, the wind came up.
Normally paddling a canoe on a river is optional. It helps us avoid obstacles, and makes us feel we’re being useful. The real power is the current, as is found whenever you turn around and try to go up-river.
On Monday at one-thirty another power arrived. At that moment Laney happened to be my bow paddler. Krag had given her a break by trading seats with her, so he was in her Kiwi. She was kneeling in my bow on the other side of the hundred or so pounds of gear that rose in a broad mound a couple of feet above the body of our boat. In this suddenly significant mountain were the tents, chairs and sleeping bags for the whole family.
The wind began to play with our oh so heavy boat. Whatever combination of strokes I used, the canoe went broadside, and upriver. Something had to be done.
Greg, from the Seychelles, pulled near and Delaney got into the front of his inflatable canoe. For him bow weight was a need. For me it was bow power. I was useless in the stern, but soloing in the front of the boat, paddling harder and faster than ever before, I was able to keep the ship straight, and make, if very slow, progress.
But every time gravel appeared on the shore, I jumped onto it and began towing canoe and cargo toward our distant destination. “Going canoeing” was once again becoming memorable by out of boat experiences.
Meanwhile Greg and Laney moved steadily; everybody else, including Collin and Krag, did too.
We had had wind until tent time our first day. We knew there’d be no relief until we got to the cars. So we slogged on. And on.
And made it. But celebrate we didn’t. Putting a seventy pound sail on the top of a car in a 50 mph gust isn’t child’s play.
When an empty, beached boat was caught by a gust and whipped back into the river, a kid quickly chased and caught it. But this bit of play didn’t change Delaney’s mind. And we were all relieved to leave.
4th of July on the Klamath 2018
by Jan Dooley
POST hosted a small group of class III paddlers for four days on the Klamath River June 30-July 4th. Our group consisted of John M, and Bob L in inflatable kayaks, plus Ruth V and Jan D in open solo canoes. Curly Jack campground in Happy Camp proved quite pleasant with spacious, shady spots. With town close by, we could get ice cream, gas and supplies anytime. The daytime highs started in the low hundreds the first two days, and then dropped to the low 90s.
The North West Rafters also camped at Curly Jack and we combined groups the first day. We paddled the Savage Ledge run with 4 canoes, 3 inflatable kayaks and one cataraft. Cecil lead in his canoe. His wife Mary Ann paddled her canoe. Many of you may remember Cecil from when he taught with CCK and Red Cross in Sacramento. Since this was Ruth’s first class III run, I guided her down the rapids with Bob sweeping behind her. Greg in the cataraft picked up any pieces at the back. John M joined us the second day. We scouted Savage Ledge on the drive and found the class II+ route on the right. The two miles between Savage Ledge and Fort Gough Falls contained several fun class II and III rapids. Savage Ledge started with a long lead in with no landmarks. Once you saw the slot, it was straight forward, but you want to be in the right spot. The narrow rock slot below the ledge created large, powerful boils. Cecil found out that turning your back on them to check on the rest of the group caused an out of boat experience. At Lower Savage, the water converged from several angles into a large wave. You could aim for the flat spot on the right that pushed you toward a rock wall, or try your luck on the shoulder of the wave. The shoulder worked best the first day. The flat worked better the next day. Ruth paddled directly over the wave the first day for a spectacular ride with a gunnel grab, but she ended upright and mostly dry. Cecil, a right handed paddler, chose the flat spot and discovered that you need a place to put your paddle in order to maintain control. The flow dropped a bit the second day and made it a little easier. Otter’s Play Pen contains a hidden narrow slot you must go through. A sweeping left, then right, turn creates a wave train that you have to cross as you approach the slot. An eddy above and to the right of the slot catches you if you are not alert. Scary, but the water goes through the slot. The trick is to end up aligned with the flow. Just below Otter’s Play Pen lies Fort Gough Falls, a river-wide wave with big boils beyond it. The easiest route runs on the right edge, but a hole was there the first day. Bob L made it over the wave, but the boil just beyond stopped his boat as he continued downstream. Greg picked up Bob and had a long chase to reconnect him with his boat. We took out at Seattle Creek the first day. The second day, with just canoes and IKs, we shortened the run by taking out at the primitive take-out at Tim’s Creek.
Monday found us on the Ferry Point Run. Jan led based on her distant memories of running it previously. The first rapid called Ferry Point lies just around the corner from the put in. We failed to find a good place to scout it. We heard a raft guide yell something to his group about which route to take, but could not clearly hear the instructions. Jan started down the left based on the road scout and an old memory. As she came over the lip, she realized she had no idea where to go. She prayed that she was not leading her daughter in to another “but I don’t want to die” experience. (A long story involving Blind Falls on the Grande Ronde River. We weren’t close to dying either time, but tell that to a scared, young paddler pushing her limits). Gratefully, Jan recognized a landmark and saw a sneak route on the far left. Ruth paddled nimbly and made it look easy. It turned out that the easier route was on the right. The rapids came at a relaxed pace after that. The flow kept us moving quickly, assisted by a downstream wind. How often does that happen? Independence Rapid was scouted from the road. We went left using canoe sneak routes, but right was probably easier. This run is known for the class IV Dragon’s Tooth rapid. The water piles into a large boulder in the middle with rocky channels on either side. One look was all it took to know that the relatively easy portage was the best choice for our group. The boats we watched run it included river guides in hard shell kayaks and rafts. They all played pinball with the rocks but managed to stay upright. The remaining rapids presented a series of fun, challenging rapids. I mostly remember big grey rocks and beautiful water with glass tongues intermixed with whitewater and waves. An option on this trip is to beach your boats above Ukonom Creek and hike up the very cold stream to a spectacular waterfall. The air temperature and our already earned pleasure combined to encourage us to keep on going.
Tuesday saw John and Bob packing up camp in order to leave after driving 60 miles to the Tree of Heaven run. This lovely run was lovely once again. Ruth and Bob took turns leading. Dutch Creek was easier than usual and could have been paddled down the center, and on the far right. We took the usual route on the left and choose different slots to paddle through. At the Schoolhouse wave, we found a swimmer enjoying the hole on his river board. We wanted to run the left side of the island at Honolulu, but could not see the entire run. We decided to take our chance on the lower half, also known as “Lulu”. This rapid continues to get rockier. Jan and Ruth chose to hit one of the rocks padded by a pillow broadside with our sterns so it would turn the canoes back downstream. John and Bob bounce along just fine in the IKs.
One of the best things about POST trips is the opportunity to hang out together at camp. Sharing risks and relying on each on the river builds for rapid trust. The long hours spent in camp builds friendships. Sharing campsites, meals and chores encourages long exchanges of stories, dilemmas and hopes. I treasure these times with my river “family”. I especially want to thank Bob and John for supporting Ruth in her first class III runs. And thank you POST for creating trips like this.
Lower American River, Sailor Bar to River Bend Park and Watt Avenue Bridge. June 16, 2018
Participants: Alan/Kate, Ray, Vince/Shauna
The June 16-17 Cache Creek Wilderness run was replaced, as the Cache Creek area had reportedly been seriously scorched in several fires of September 2017. An increase in wood debris and other fire-related impacts caused the trip to be moved to the American River.
The day was sunny, the wind calm. The Lower American water release at Nimbus Dam was around 3,500 CFS, which provided more than enough release for a swift water experience. Three canoes were on the water at Sailor Bar on the Lower American River at 10:30 a.m. on Saturday, June 16th, for a one-day paddle to Watt Avenue bridge. Numerous fishermen lined the riverbanks, and the summer raft rentals provided obstacle course practice. After some eddy-exit-practice (S.A.I.L.S.) above Sunrise Blvd. bridge, reaching San Juan Rapid the group had lunch on river left overlooking San Juan Rapid. The big waves and spill-overs did provide some large standing waves for anyone willing to venture forth. Our group marveled while eating lunch at the one solo Kayaker in top form in the largest of the waves, Rafts were also splashing through. We continued on, proceeding along channels on river right to Serra Court and Riverbend Park, where several of the group decided to disembark. Kate and Alan continued on to Watt Avenue bridge, through Arden Rapid, and through some new channels below Arden Rapid which now bring a larger amount of water into the ponds at Hoffman Park. Taking the right channel around Bill’s Island below Grist Mill/Harrington’s river access provided some protection from increased headwinds, and the breathtaking serenity of paddling the lower American River. We reached the Watt Avenue Bridge river access at 4:00 p.m.
The members of the intrepid party reconvened at Burt’s Ice Cream, and all’s well that ends’ well, updating each other on the details of the trip.
Alan
From John Marold, Trip Leader,
On Saturday morning, 11 paddlers met at the Geysers Road exit from 101, north of Cloverdale at 10 AM: Don and Karen, Kate and Alan, Eric and Julie, Jan and Ruth, Keith, Ray, and John.
After looking at the weather forecast a week in advance, we changed the trip to be a Saturday-only trip instead of a full weekend. We got it right on two counts: the weather on Saturday was beautiful, sunny and in the 70s, some wind in the afternoon, but nothing too hard to deal with. (Sunday was much cooler with rain in the afternoon.) And Jan and Ruth were already planning to head towards the bay area on Saturday.
It was great to see Ray – he hasn’t been on one of our trips in a long time. Special thanks to Linda for bringing Ray and for being shuttle bunny. (I hope she is not offended by that term.)
The Russian River had plenty of water. The flow at Cloverdale was about 650 CFS and in Healdsburg was about 1200 CFS – 50% more than Alan and Kate had for their trip two weeks earlier.
After looking at the river, Eric and Julie thought it was too high and were going to give up for the day. We suggested they meet us at Cloverdale River Park which is just past the area with the narrowest/fastest stretches.
After shuttling, we got on the river about 11:40 and headed down through a great narrow class 2 stretch with 4 solo canoes, 2 tandem canoes, and one kayak (Ray). This is such a beautiful run – isolated from the nearby roads and houses.
When we arrived at Cloverdale River Park, we found Eric and Julie already in their boats ( a C1 and a K1) on the water and practicing. They had already eaten lunch, so they got a lot of practice while the rest of paused to eat.
After lunch, we headed downriver to Geyserville. From our put-in at Geysers Rd. this is about a 13 mile run. It took us 6 hours including our lunch stop and several knee breaks. 6 hours on such a beautiful river makes the long drive worth it for a day trip. Along the way we passed the Crocker St. bridge and the location of the summer bridge at Asti.
We also had some entertainment from 4 OBEs (out of boat experiences). At one point we thought that a paddle had been lost – caught in brush upstream of where the group congregated. But the paddle managed to free itself and come down to us. One hat was lost – permanently, I believe. And a sponge was lost a couple of times and found both times.
The river flattens out after Asti and the wind became more of an issue. If we want a shorter trip in the future, we might want to explore taking out at Asti – shortening the trip by about 5 miles.
After reaching our takeout at 5:40, there was much negotiation about a location for dinner. The decision was for El Farolito in Windsor. Ray and Linda headed home, but the rest of us stayed for a good dinner. Definitely a place to keep in mind for the future.
Thanks to a great group of paddlers for a wonderful day on the river.
-John
POST Canoe Club 