Cali Update #4 – Upper Cherry Creek

Part I: The Obsession

The process of running Upper Cherry started weeks before I ever saw the crystal clear water of that deep, beautiful gorge.  Monitoring several different proxy gauges, following snow melt trends and patterns, and tracking weather and temperature fluctuation was just the beginning.  The puzzle gets really complicated when you superimpose all those data points with first hand reports of those who’ve gone in, and their own interpretations of “medium” or “high”.

For weeks, my crew and I checked flows several times a day, and had plan A through Z ready sketched out and ready to employ at a moments notice.  When I first rolled into Cali, 8  weeks ago, locals thought it would be running in the next 2 weeks.  6 weeks later, it was still reportedly too high.  Thus began the 2013 wait…

Part II: The Waiting Game

I was fortunate to have plenty of whitewater still running and accessible to fill my time while awaiting Upper Cherry. Once the last of the natural flow had melted though, it was down to Cherry Creek Proper, and other creative adventures.  Luckily I became part of a traveling band of southeastern fellows, Gareth Tate, Paul Stamillio, Ben Blake, and Will Rudisill.  We decided to take only one car on these mini-adventures, so we loaded up Ben’s Sprinter Van and hit the road.

Part III: Mini-Meantime Adventures

After getting in some Cherry Creek laps, we started our multi-sport adventures with a mounting biking trip to Truckee.  We woke up everyday, ready to pull the trigger and head to Upper Cherry, but ended up spending 3 days shredding downhill, pump-tracks, hanging out on Donner Lake docks, and lifestyling the hell out of Truckee.

Living with 4 dudes in a van gets interesting…

We then migrated to Santa Cruz for a few days of surfing some classic breaks.  Although surfing was super fun, I decided that I don’t like surfers.  They yelled at me a number of times.

The suspense of Upper Cherry was getting worse and worse, but with goals of running Cherry Bomb, we knew that waiting till the water had for sure dropped, was key.  Deciding to wait a few more days, we headed to Yosemite for a few day hikes.

Hetch Hetchy Reservoir

After two false starts of starting to run shuttle then getting word that it was STILL to high, we finally decided to pull the trigger at 3:30 pm on a Thursday afternoon.  Due to weekend travel plans, work schedules, and a lack of cell service in Yosemite, our once 9-pack had dwindled down to three.  I embarked on one of the coolest trips of my life with Ben Blake and Will Rudisill.

Part IV: Upper Cherry Creek…FINALLY

The hike in to Upper Cherry is absolutely part of the whole-picture adventure.  I consider myself a relatively strong athlete, and in pretty good shape, but that 11 mile hike with a 90 pound loaded kayak on my back BROKE ME DOWN.  I cried.  Literally.  I have not cried from physical exertion or pain since I had to run sprints as an elementary school soccer player.  I tried to focus on my music, the nice scenery, and the fact that at least there weren’t mosquitoes attacking at every corner, but I just couldn’t.  It was f-ing miserable.

Sure when I got to the river the next morning I was filled with a sense of accomplishment, and satisfaction for doing a burly hike in under 7 hours (with a night of sleep built in there)…but mostly I was just super happy for it to be over with.

There are few words to describe the magic and incredible quality of whitewater in Upper Cherry Creek.  Slide after slide, drop after drop, it doesn’t let up, and never ceased to plot me in a pool with  a huge grin on my face.

Ben Blake at the put in slide crux

first taste of UCC whitewater – put in slide!

never ending goods

On our second morning, we woke up ready to run the most famous section of whitewater in California, Cherry Bomb Gorge.  After a nearly 2 hour scout of the entire gorge the night prior, we awoke with nerves and fire, stoked to run the bomb at a low (aka relatively chill…for Class V at least) level.

finally seeing into Cherry Bomb Gorge was like meeting a celebrity crush

no for real…you should scout…left left middle right middle left

Dropping into Cherry Bomb is equated in my mind with running Gorilla on the Green River Narrows for the first time.  Filled with incredible nerves, and unsure about the plethora of unknowns, possibilities, and consequences that awaited below, I had to force myself to return to my practice of relaxing and visualizing.

When I landed, upright, NOT in the pothole, at the bottom of Cherry Bomb Falls, I had a glimpse of accomplishment, but knew my work was far from over and I could not let up my gripped demeanor.  Below Cherry Bomb Falls lies the Weir Hole, and a series of 6 significant drops.  Left, left, middle, right, middle, left…the sequence of the gorge, had been resonating in my head for weeks.  It was certainly intense in there, as the river is squeezed down to a mere 10 feet wide lined with 500 foot granite walls in both sides.  Landing the last drop was when I finally relaxed my grip and cried out in joy and fist-pumps, shocked at the landmark feat myself and my crew had just CRUSHED!

dropping into Cherry Bomb…no words for this moment.

The rest of the journey was a spectacular array of wateralls, boofs, and slides, all in the glorious California sunshine!

boofing into Waterfall Alley

booftastic!

the boys routing into the teacups

Will Rudisill using the force on the Jedi Slide

granite domeland never gets old

ben blake getting his Jedi on

All was good until we reached the confluence with West Cherry Creek, in which we were expecting to double our flow.  Sadly, the West Cherry tributary offered us a meager trickle, comperable to the flow of my a bathroom sink.  We ended up having to essentially portage the Red Rock Gorge at water level,  which was a royal pain, but still an adventure.

In the end, after all the hype, waiting, guessing, and fear that goes into Upper Cherry, it was 100% worth it, and one of the most unique and powerful places I’ve ever been.  Unparalleled whitewater, classic Cali scenery, and a true “earn your turns” style adventure made UCC one of the most profound experiences I’ve ever had in a kayak, and a place I will definitely return.

Check out Gareth Tate’s video highlighting expedition kayaking safety tips, featuring Upper Cherry!  It’s the best UCC video out there!  https://vimeo.com/33187111

And thus concludes my California season…OFF TO WASHINGTON!!!

Cali Update #3 – West Cherry Misadventure: A True Story

Once upon a time, a group of ambitious, motivated kayakers were stuck. Upper Cherry, the classic river they’d been waiting for, was still too high, while just about everything else in the state had dropped out. After spending a day on Cherry Creek proper, a dam release run, they drove their dirty, river scented selves in their home-away-from-home Sprinter van to the nearest town, Groveland, California.

Groveland is somewhat of a technological black hole. Getting reception is rare, and even sending out text messages is hit or miss. The team of kayakers poached some WiFi outside a closed coffee shop, desperately trying to figure out their next move. With the magic of modern internet, they checked flows, made some internet phone calls, and came to a conclusion. They were off to West Cherry Creek.

West Cherry is known as the gnarlier big brother to Upper Cherry. With it’s steep, narrow character, countless slides, waterfalls, and big drops, West Cherry will make even the burliest of kayakers nervous at each unknown horizon line. These southeasterners were itching for some Cali goods, and were ready for whatever West Cherry had in store. Or so they thought…

As night fell, the crew was still driving along dirt roads to the takeout on the East side of Cherry Lake. With part one of shuttle done, they tried to get a good night of sleep, but were awoken by bouts of rain pounding down of the vehicle’s metal roof. Rain is a rare occurrence in Sierra country – an oddity that quickly delved into the psyche of the group.

As morning arose, momentum continued with an efficient pack-up, eager to go kayaking. One of the team’s stalwart leaders, Paul, remembered snapshots from his trip to West Cherry, albeit 5 years ago. With some valuable time spent one-on-one with a Gazateer, Paul was confident he could navigate the maze of forest service roads to the putin trailhead.

“I’m going on gut” Paul made clear driving up random dirt roads, “but this feels right.”

After about an hour, and countless turns, they were lost with no clue where the trailhead truly was. The logical, and level headed female of the group suggested a brilliant plan.

“Why don’t we just turn around, drive back to that ranger station on the lake, and ask to see a map of all these forest roads.” And so plan B was set.

The rangers turned out to be marginally helpful. When we spoke the words “West Cherry” their brows furrowed in confusion. Em and Paul, the two representatives chosen to gather directions could tell the ranger’s internal wheels were turning wondering “where the hell is West Cherry, and who the hell goes there?” Nevertheless, their kind hearts printed out a map of the forest roads to give the lost, desperate kayakers a slightly better sense of their destination.

3N01 was the forest service road they were to travel on until it reached a dead end in a bog. Strange enough, as they followed the map to this spot, they found themselves going exactly where Paul’s gut had taken them hours earlier. The dead end and trailhead was only minutes past where they had previously turned around.

In the bog, they were instantly swarmed by mosquitoes. Four hours behind their desired schedule, the combination of bug hell and time pressure made for a super fast gear up, and off they went on the vague trail Ben and Paul “thought they saw”. They had heard the hike was 45 minutes to the river, and hoped to finish within an hour.

It is unclear how many times these 4 expert outdoors(wo)man found, lost, refound, and relost the “trail”. Beta from distant sources told them vague landmarks, none of which ever truly revealed themselves. Blocked by ridge after ridge, trying to head East to the river, group morale was getting low. Hours kept passing by. Trudging through manzanita, up and over granite domes, across bogs and streams, they knew night was falling. They had been on the trail for 5 hours, carrying 90-100 pound boats on one shoulder at a time. Their backs ached, feet were sore, and shoulders were getting raw.

As Will “Young Gun” and Ben “Papa Bear” were slowing down, Paul “Italian Stallion” kept charging, trying to motive up and over yet another granite dome.

“C’mon Y’all, this is some John Muir shit!” Paul exclaimed, as a last ditch effort to push on. They opted to hike till 7:30, giving them one hour before dark to set up camp and make dinner. Paul immediately went on a scouting mission, and came back saying he found a route to the river, which could have the group kayaking in 90 minutes the next morning.

A little disheartned while cooking dinner after hiking for 5 hours, still not at the river…

The team fell asleep, with wishful dreams of kayaking the next day.

The latest weather report they saw read a 0% chance of rain, which is typical May, California weather. This report was not a surprise, but the sudden drops of rain pounding on their open, down sleeping bags at 2 am was.

“FUUUUUUCK” they yelled in a unanimous fit of frustration.

“This is some next level bull-shit” explained Paul.

“Quick, I’m under some pine trees, it’s gotta be a little better under here” Em said to the boys who were all perched on the top of a granite slab. They huddled together under the trees, using whatever they had to shelter themselves. It was inevitable though, all of their clothing and gear, was going to be soaked by morning.

Luckily, Em was a master fire maker, and was able to start a rip-roaring fire with wet wood and drizzling skies early in the morning to begin the arduous process of drying crucial items of clothing and sleeping bags.  When the group members expressed their disdain for the situation, Paul’s deep seeded charging nature responded with,

“Whatever, this just shows how hard we are!!!”

While the air was still wet, they were able to get things dry enough to pack up and hit the trail again. Despite Paul’s motivational attempts, the trip was already feeling like a misadventure fiasco.

Two hours later, they were finally at banks of West Cherry Creek. With bodies still tired from the total 7 hours of boat shouldering and bushwhacking, they were re-energized by the crisp, clear water of the river. They put on, and ran down a long, California style slide, dodging holes, curlers, and whiteouts for a good 75 yards.

Paul entering the put in slide

Will in the thick of the put in slide

Em navigating the put in slide

“WHOA, that was rowdier than it looked!” shouted Em and she landed in the eddy next to Paul who also had a surprised look expressing the same “Holy shit” sentiment on his face.

They progressed down the river, shocked at the burliness and high volume on what they expected to be the low to low-side-of-good.

Paul running the 20 footer everybody else walked

Paul looking steazy on the second drop of the sequence

“This is fucking high” Paul said “WAY higher than we ran it 5 years ago.”

They considered camping after the first mandatory portage, and waiting it out to see if the river would drop the next day. Pessimistic that it would drop significantly, they pushed on for several more hours. Huge pushy slides spit them out time after time, while terrified looks transformed to ear to ear grins at the bottom. Amidst the fun, long slides, and occasional runnable vertical drop, they portaged time after time, walking around rapids that looked to be incredibly fun with less water.

Em looking down into a pit of death on one of the portages

West Cherry holds the same scenery as Upper Cherry, which is known for huge granite open domes, graced with pine trees scattering the rocks. The immense landscape is unique to the high Sierras, and makes you feel like a small creature on the surface of the moon. The misadventure felt well worth it once the crew settled into a classic Cherry campside, perched on a granite bald deep in a gorge, with the river sounding nearby and sun baking them from above.

The next day held a similar fate of a little bit of kayaking in big pushy rapids, and a lot of portaging. They reached the confluence where West meets Upper Cherry, and the river volume doubles, creating an even stouter and scarier stretch of whitewater. While some kayaked more than others, they all found themselves safely back at the Cherry Lake takeout. Exhausted, hot, hungry, and thirsty, they shared a round of beers and high fives, glad to have made it through such an exhausting yet memorable journey.

A Note From Em: California kayaking can be hard to time properly, and is unpredicable by nature. While there are trends and patterns to follow based on snow melting, odd snow packs and weather fluctuation make timing a trip like West Cherry very difficult. Despite the label “misadventure”, this West Cherry trip was one of the coolest three days of my time in California. In the end, adventure is what we’re all truly seeking. The unknown, tough decisions, physical challenge, intense camaraderie, and mind-blowing scenery are almost sidenotes to the whitewater itself, and truly gives meaning to what this journey is about. Expedition kayaking is never easy. Lack of beta and the unpredictable nature of Sierra California rivers are what sets us up to have the most incredible adventures. Amidst the remoteness, wilderness, and pristine scenery, lies the fact that we run these risks to go places only class V kayakers can go. It’s a special gift, and with such great reward, comes the occasional stint of misfortune. Nevertheless, it reminds me of how special and unique kayaking High Sierra Class V truly is.

Thanks to Paul Stamilio, Ben Blake, Will Rudisill and West Cherry Creek for an unforgettable mission.

All photos from Ben Blake