Life is about doing things that your other friends haven’t done. Everyone likes to hear stories of adventure, especially if you sprinkle a bit of the dramatic on top. The word “canyon” elicits a sense of uncertainty and often times, danger. Stories are passed on, and noticeable features are named for events or people that helped shape the folklore. Time passes and the water gets bigger, rapids more intense, and eventually even the maps change.
Johnson Village we were told would add 6 miles to the top, while Big Bend would add a few more miles on the back end. Perfect, I’ll take the double double and do it all.
Streamers were the game, and we blasted them on every bank from start to finish. Fish were persistent, over the course of the day we must have had well over 100 follows and more fish to hand than we cared to count.
The six miles above the canyon were the best advice we received the entire trip. Fish were on it, the float was lonely and reminiscent of a freestone water in Montana.
As dusk began to stretch through the canyon and fatigue was setting in we passed Hecla Junction and were suddenly the last boat on the river. We pulled over to see what we had in front of us and to finish off the beer.
A couple more bumps and runs and we were back in open country. The last several miles proved to be a continuous boulder field that tested the physical limits of the crew. As we pulled the boat into the takeout we watched the sun disappear and leave us to the 4.37 million mosquitos that inhabit every square acre of land around the river.
Enjoy we did
Now that you have that run all mapped out in your head, it would seem there is no reason to make me row.
We know how that turns out anyway.
Yeah buddy, it’s all dialed in