The Tale of the Ocho Rios-Finding the Verde

Squeezing thorough the tight streets in yet another small Mexican town (photo by Boyd)

Day 5 The Rio Verde. The Rio Verde is hard to find. The Gringo’s Guide to Mexican Whitewater doesn’t do the logistics justice. It’s just a plain old clusterfuck trying to find this river. After four hours and lots of miss-turns we finally find what is the takeout Puerte del Salto “Entrance of the Waterfall”, a beautiful 35ish footer with a tricky entrance and a kicker spout that sets you on that perfect 45 degree entry angle. The only reason we know we have found the right spot is because we see Tom McEwan and the Liquid Adventures van stopping there. They are headed to run the falls then do downstream section but in order to run the second canyon of the Verde and get out before dark we decide to go upstream to find access which proves daunting to say the least. We finally find a suitable spot though it isn’t as it is described in the Gringo’s guide but a nice fella lets us in through some barb wire fencing and we walk down through some fields and find the river. After putting on we find some great class three drops that could have used at least 3-4 more inches of water. We get out at one of the bigger ones, which also could have used some more water, where you would have had a boof into the froth then paddled out under a big over hanging ledge. The boof lip looked anything but suitable at this level though so we walk it. From there it’s small class III and flat pools till we reach a spot where the basalt reaches clear across the river with a couple good drops separated by a big pool. Boyd fires up the first one and we all run the second. We had been on a constant vigil for what we had heard described as a BIG WATERFALL, two-thirds of the way into the run. As we approach one horizon line we think we have found it only to find it’s a run through narrow boat width basalt slots 10 feet high. Pretty cool but a little disconcerting as we still haven’t found this “BIG WATERFALL” and its getting late. Finally we reach a spot where it obvious the bottom drops out and there is Kim. We had made it through the gorge in around two hours and had not seen anything that didn’t go or at least wouldn’t go with more water. All we could conclude was that Puerte del Salto was the big one. We all begin to eye it and take a bit of time making up our minds on lines. So long in fact that by the time Boyd drops in to probe it’s getting near dark. He has a good line and makes it look easy. Adam is up next and has a sweet line as well but doesn’t quite get tucked enough and has his paddle pop him subsequently busting a tooth through his bottom lip. Drew and I are resigned to the fact that it’s getting dark and we still have to haul boats and bodies out of the area below the drop so we opt out. It pains me greatly but I hope we can make it back to the area soon. It just looked like so much fun.

Stay tuned for more!

Joey

Stopping for directions (again) on our way to the Verde. (photo by Boyd)

Ah the sights of Mexico! (photos by Boyd)

The tricky entrance to Puerte del Salto. (photo by Adam)

Boyd lining it up on Puerte del Salto
(photos by Adam)

Adam doing the same. (photos by Kim)

The Tale of the Ocho Rios-The Double Header

Day four is to be Boyd and Drew’s warm up day so we go for a El Salto/Micos double header. After breakfast I begin to feel a little ill though don’t think much of it. We put on the quick moving water of the Salto and boogie down to La Luminosa. Once there Boyd, Drew, and Kim get out to take a look while Adam runs it to set up the camera followed by myself to do the same with the video camera. My line isn’t too great though as I get a little sideways and slap my face on the water knocking my nose plugs off. Everyone else has stylish lines as well and Kim even plugs it without a blown skirt. The rest of the river goes quick. When we get to the spout drop Adam leads the way but a bit further left than he had previously. We all follow suit and find ourselves off the boof flake and in the fold. I go deep and get my noseplugs ripped off giving me a nice sinus douche of good ol’ Mexican water. By the time we reach the takeout and carry up to the car I am feeling anything but good. We head to the Cascadas Micos and I am now tossing and turning in the backseat. We go ahead and drop the other three boys at the put-in so they could get a lap in and Kim and I head to the campsite where I am in Mucho need of a Banjio. I had thought I would join them on lap two but started to have my doubts. Once they paddled up to the campsite though I had changed my mind. That lap on those cascadas did a whole lot for my stomach and my head which had been pounding ever since the salto when I got my sinuses cleaned out. Once we headed to dinner though something grabbed me again and after only a few bites of my food I had to go out to the truck to lay down where I slept till everyone else finished their dinner. Back at the campsite I head straight to my tent and have a very fitful sleep, never really sleeping till just before morning. However I wake up feeling a good bit better and ready to embark on what came to be our greatest adventure in Mexico yet, finding the Rio Verde. Why do I say finding the Rio Verde? You will see.

Stay Tuned for More

Joey

A look downstream off of La Luminosa (photo by Boyd)

















Adam getting ready to run La Luminosa. You can see El Nemo just upstream. (photo by Boyd)























Drew with the de-watered section of the Salto behind him. (photo by Boyd)
























Yours Truely over rotating a bit in the air just before landing on my face (photo by Adam)

















Boyd greasing his line off of La Luminosa (photo by Adam)

Drew off the lip at La Luminosa (photo by Boyd)

Drew on the first drop of the Micos with the 70 footer looming in the background (photo by Boyd)

The Tale of the Ocho Rios- Ojo Frio es Caliente

Day three and we go to check out Rio Frio. However it is Mexican Independence Day and we soon find ourselves in the midst of a parade in every small town we come to. As the crow flies the Ojo Frio is not that far due west of our Micos area base camp but with the really rough roads and parades it takes us nearly two hours to reach it.
However you can't really beat the little kids dressed up for the occasion with bandoliers, guns, and moustaches.

Once there we are also greeted with what has to be the worst shuttle thus far of the trip through muddy cane fields and rutted out main roads. As I have been a slacker I get the grand honor of taking the Night Shadow, our trusty shuttle bicycle, on the ride of a life time. After nearly jarring myself over the handlebars and riding through peddle deep mud holes we put on and find a nice little class III run over travertine in the thick of the Mexican countryside. Towards the end of the run we come across some bigger fun drops but still all quite manageable though we also see one group of boaters many of whom are climbing up and over one of the bigger ones. The sketchiest moment of the day, aside from my ride aboard ol’ Night Shadow, comes at the end of the run where there is an irrigation pipe hanging at guillotine level across the entire creek. We all manage to duck it though with only Kim skimming it a bit with her helmet. We head back to Valles for food and mas cerveza which really hits the spot. Sometime that evening around midnight Drew and Boyd roll in from Tampico. We never hear them come in due to said mucho cerveza.

More to come

Joey

A typical "bigger" drop on the Frio

Some folks from another group dropping in on the biggest one.

The Tale of the Ocho Rios-Waterfalls Goooood

The next day we are up late after some much needed rest and grab some oatmeal before heading to the El Salto section about an hour away. What an hour too. Miles of small towns and lots of sugar cane. Lots of crazy dogs in the road too and even some cows!

The salto, I soon find, is well worth it. Let me just go ahead and say too that there aren't many runs in these parts that do not require a bit of driving. But it's all relative. Once at the river we put in the man made flow from the powerhouse after checking out the dewatered section upstream. Very cheoah like with a big stomping hole at the end. This one gets a big piece of Kim and sucks her back in for some trouncing. The next drop el nemo has some boogie in a channel made where you have to drive left to avoid the hole that ends this man made section and drops you in just above La Luminosa, a real purty waterfall that is just too much fun. Adam styles El Nemo and I soon join him and Kim in the hole above the big twenty five footer. We each roll off with Kim going first and deep which causes her skirt to implode. After several valiant roll attempts she is forced to slide out and swim for it. Adam goes next getting up on the boof flake and making it look easy and I follow his line. The rest of the river blurs as we run drop after drop of small travertine and paddle pool after pool in between. We get to the end of the section and still have the fifteen foot spout to contend with. Adam and Kim run it well. However when I drop off I am about two feet right of where I need to be, my stern clips the rock I should have had my butt on, and I spiral right dangerously close to a rock in the landing. I compose myself though and we head on down to the last drop an eight footer where Kim and I clip a rock in the landing. Adam and I once again decide to hit it one more time and Kim drives shuttle for us. This time we blaze thru the big hole above el nemo and thru nemo proper. I nearly run La Luminosa direct but fight the urge and join Adam in the eddy. We both line it up though and have some sweet lines off the lip with a group of seven boaters from Colorado watching us from above the big hole to below the falls. In one of the next few drops I flip and learn how unforgiving travertine can be on your hands. The rest of the run blurs again and soon we run the spout styling it and are at the takeout. On the ride back we check out Minas Viajas a definite second d possibility though quite low. But more on that later

Joey
All photos courtesy of Adam unless noted



















Down the Barrel at El Nemo





















Kim off the lip, La Luminosa





























Adam stylish as always



















Yours Truely

















Making the spout look ugly. I should be a foot and a half to the right.

















Clipping the flake rock. Check out the rock in the landing zone where my bow is pointed.

















Just missed that rock. Wheww



















Off the last one of the day
















Kim on the same





















Adam eyeballing El Meco the biiig one at the takeout

The Tale of the Ocho Rios-The Beginning

It’s 9:45am on day 1 of the trip. We are finally loaded at Shannon’s and headed out. Twenty seven hours of driving through detours around Lafayette LA, customs headaches, mis-directions on Mexican backroads. Long drive for sure. We switch off the driving responsibilities ever six hours or so and man does it feel good to crawl into the backseat and rest after staring at what seems like endless highway. I have one last real bite to eat is in Oxford Miss. Throughout the eve I have some ice cream and that’s about it.

We roll into Brownsville TX at four am and head to Wal-Mart for some last minute things. We make our approach to the border bridge around six only to discover that it’s closed. I few more turns and we are at another bridge a short ways away. Customs takes a bit and it suddenly dawns on us that the bank doesn’t open till nine and we need to change money out. We decide to take our chances and plan to stop at the airport in Victoria however as it turns out there are lots of ATMs in Matamoras, the border town across from Brownsville. The sun is just rising as we get out of Matamoras.

We arrive at Agua Azul around noonish on day Sunday and set out the gear so that we can head ASAP to the cascada section of the Micos. Twenty eight hours after leaving Alabama we are sitting at the base of the big seventy footer and ready to begin our decent over some pretty awesome waterfalls. The place is packed with Mexican tourists swimming and jumping off the falls as it is a three day weekend down here. It doesn’t take us long to shake the cob webs off from the drive though its hard to miss the fact we are dropping a lot of vertical and have to adjust accordingly. The final drop bites off a little of Kim as she goes deep in the hole at the bottom of the drop and gets chundered. Adam and I are pumped up and decide after the hike up and out the stairs we want to get another lap and Kim is gracious enough to provide our shuttle so the we can paddle all the way back to the campsite. This go around the drops are even sweeter including the last one which I really dig. Knowing this is quite literally in our backyard these two weeks makes it even better. We head to Rincon Huesteco for dinner and some cerveza. We all are beginning to look like zombies though we pick up some more cerveza for back at the campsite. We decide to head up to the little pavilion by Polo’s place, he is the caretaker and head guide here at Agua Azul, since it looks like it’s gonna rain soon. We enjoy some broken Spanish conversation with Polo but quickly feel ourselves fading. After a loooong thirty six hours we are out like a bunch of champs.

Stayed tuned for more.

Joey

Going Vert off the first drop of the Micos(Photo by Adam)

MMMMMMMM Bananas! (Photo by Boyd)

Last Big drop on the Micos (photo by Adam)

Mid-Atlantic Creekboating Dispatch

It’s been a long summer. I have been very busy with the youth outdoor program I run but finally finally I have a break. I begin to look at yet another weekend at the Ocoee and can only shake my head. How many times can I run this river this summer? Ugh! Seeing as how we have come to call our region the Desert Southeast the answer is a lot. I am itching for something new or at the very least something different. However with no rain in sight, again, it appears to be a lost cause. Then Adam called.

The Plan

A four day road trip with the Upper Yough being our ultimate destination. Being from Alabama, this river seems about as close as running the Grand Canyon. It’s never really been on my radar since it would take so much driving to experience it. For this reason the Ocoee, being a mere 4 hours away, was much more in the scope of what I thought I would be up to. Always hungry though, and with a contagious attitude to boot, Adam didn’t have to do much convincing to make me want to ditch my previous plans and head further north. We would hit the Ocoee on Thursday then once Dustin got off work in Cleveland load up and drive through West “by God” Virginia and on to Maryland. There we would promptly run the shit. Rinse and repeat for Saturday then head south again hoping to get something good on the way home. Green anyone?

The stage is set. Time to go boatin’!

About nine hour’s worth of driving and we pull into Maryland around 1am. However we are fired up good and early the next day and set up shuttle by noon. It comes as a punch in the gut though that the release is an hour late so we will have to wait. Once we do hit the water mad bombing commences. With no guide we take turns in the lead probing it out with Adam taking the reins a whole bunch. Needless to say we are all grins rapid after rapid and boof after boof. The only time any of us exit our boats comes at National Falls as I jump out with a rope and the video camera. However we found it to be lacking in the beefiness that many folks talk about. Of course none of us go for the National Boof either. We stay pretty motivated, paddling hard, and soon we catch up with the front end of the released water. Unfortunately even after stopping to let it get ahead we run out of H2O once we get to town and scrape into the take-out. Though even this cannot dampen the experience we have just had.

Fired up we go for a bite to eat then back to our campsite for some shut eye. The next day, Saturday, we are driving to breakfast and I make the call that will either make or break our Sunday. The recording on the other end is just what I want to hear. “Tuxedo Hydro station will be running one unit at 100% capacity Sunday August the 5th”.

And the crowds go wild!

This good bit of news even acts to snap Adam out of his post-Yough celebration hangover. In other words we can’t really complain.

We have another good one on the river Saturday as well with only minimal carnage. Dustin gives up some skin to the rocks in one rapid and in another I get into a dicey pin. After stepping out of my boat though I drain, perch my boat precariously on a mid-stream rock, and slide back into the fray. We reach the takeout and load up the boats. It’s now time to do some more driving. Allllll the way back to Southwest VA to my parents place to crash for a few hours before heading to the Green.

Sunday morning comes too early but we are excited none the less. We are about to have the perfect cap to a great 4 days of boating. However carnage ensues for me fairly early in the trip. I have myself knocked down a few pegs by an unlikely adversary. While biting into my delicious southern style chicken biscuit from Bojangles I hear a crunch and realize I have just broken a tooth. I guess that’s the price to pay for eating such a gourmet breakfast though. I am going to have to head to the dentist on Monday to get it fixed but for now that can wait. IT’S TIME FOR THE GREEN BABY!

We pull into Green River Adventures and meet up with Bone who has graciously agreed to be our guide for the day as it is only Adam’s 3rd run and my 1st. We get up top and begin the hike down to the river and the entire time I can’t help but grin. I am finally getting to hike down this trail after so many of my beginner years of coming up it after taking off of the Upper Green. By the time we get to the bottom though it is hot and I can’t wait to put on and enjoy the cool clear water of that river again.

The day goes off without a hitch. I got really nervous at Zwick’s but manage to clean it. I watch Adam run Chief for his first time. We all walk Gorilla and Sunshine but have good lines everywhere else. When we get to Hammer Factor we see Dustin up on the rock ready to snap the only pictures we have of the day. It’s ok though because I will be back. I have to after all. There were a number of times I felt I got lucky and I definitely want some redemption and cleaner lines. After telling Bone thanks for the beta we hit the road once again headed for home. What seems like an eternity later I finally get to my house and crash hard. Just before I fall asleep though I lay there thinking back on the last four days. The miles we traveled and the rivers we ran have me smiling ear to ear.

Until Next Time

Stay Wet
&
Pray for Rain

Some Photos from the past four days:

All the trappings of a serious expedition into the unknown

ALABAMA SMALL BOATS BABY!

Dustin and I in the Middle of Bastard-Upper Yough

Boof Good!

A look upstream at Toilet Bowl on the mighty Rio Verde

Bone Dropping into Hammer Factor

Adam doing the same

Yours Truely

Tallulah 4 lapper

Blue Angel at Last Step
(Photo Courtesy of Adam)


So let us start at the beginning.

The big bang happened, the earth formed and cooled, Dinosaurs roamed far and wide. A short time later Adam called me up with this crazy idea to try to run the Tallulah three times in one day. Typically most folks take, at the most, only two trips down the 597 steps comprising the hike-in to the gorge. That is 597 steps with a 45lb boat on your shoulder with your legs feeling like mush when you reach the bottom only to slide into your boat and encounter the first class IV rapid 20 yards downstream. For many folks it can all be a bit overwhelming your first time. It certainly was for me. I had my heart in my throat and nearly a mess in my shorts during numerous points of that personal first decent a few years ago.

And now I was being drug into a three lapper.

I was ready for it though. Numerous runs on Little River Canyon had taken what fears I had about the Tallulah and put them into bright shinny perspective. If I could survive LRC with its numerous sieve, pin, undercut, death waiting just around the corner to snatch your jockstrap potential I could easily navigate the Tallulah even three times. I did have my concerns about Oceana, what I and many others still consider the only class V on the run, but I would cross that proverbial bridge when I reached it.

I met Adam and Shannon in Ft. Payne Alabama Friday evening and began the long journey towards North Georgia. We arrived at Woodall Shoals around 12:30am EST and were quickly zonked out. Saturday morning was to be our marathon day so we were up at 7:00am and off to the Waffle House to have a bite of deliciousness before heading to the river. We pulled into the parking lot around 8:30 and got some odd looks when Adam asked for a handful of the waivers you have to sign before you can head into the gorge. The volunteer apparently thought it odd enough we would ask for more than one a piece let alone a “whole bunch”. We parked and started stretching as Spence, our third glutton for punishment, pulled in and we began to gear up. We began our walk to the stairs only to find a ranger holding us there until the water stabilized in the gorge AKA the powerhouse at the gorge’s end radioed and said the water had reached them. Once that happened we started down the stairs for the first time at 9:33am. We got down to the launching platform and took only a minute to gather our composure before sliding in and starting the lap. This first one was a bit of a blur with us going pretty non-stop. Additionaly this first go around we all walked Oceana, however this would be the last time any of us would step out of our boats again until we had braved the rest of the one mile of class IV river and the even stouter one mile of class VI lake paddle.

When we hit the boat dock on the far side of the lake where our fantastic shuttle driver Shannon was waiting it had taken us only 55 minutes to descend the steps, paddle the river, and to get across the flats. Not too shabby for our first lap but I kept my fingers crossed our endurance would hold and our fitness would prove up to the test for laps 2 and 3. Oh how I would be surprised!

Lap 2 we nearly ran down the steps only to find a moderate crowd already forming at the platform. Adam and I, undaunted, walked right past those still stretching and down the last set of steps which were currently unoccupied. I would have liked to have had a moment to stretch as well but figured I would leave it for the walk at Oceana which I had decided to bypass this time as well. We slid into our boats and out into the water only to see Spence get caught up behind a few folks. No worries though as he was soon in the water too and we headed downstream. Adam and Spence hopped out at Oceana while I portaged and both later came careening over the lip one at a time with Spence getting kicked a bit close to the THING. Two miles later and we pulled into the boat dock again.

Now I believe it was at this point some math was calculated and it was discovered we might just have a shot at not three laps but four. I was excited at this prospect but nervous at the same time as I was starting to hit a wall. In fact the third trip down the stairs was my worst yet but we were soon in our boats and on our way which made it all tremendously better and the prospect of four seemed completely possible. Spence had bowed out after the second lap with prior obligations to old friends so Adam and I were running just the two of us this time. Adam fired up Oceana without getting out and I……well I walked again and quickly joined him in the eddy below and we rolled on.

They stop folks going down the stairs at 3:00pm and we were worried about the cutoff but we made it easily arriving at the top for lap 4 at 2:45. We had every intention of taking our last lap slower and easier but as it turned out with the exception of helping to fish a couple boats out at Oceana we stayed right on-time with the other ones. As we pulled up to the boat dock and were talking to folks about what we had just finished there was mention of the fact that we had just missed the record of five laps. That seemed awesome that someone could pull off such a feat but in relation to what we had just done this didn’t really matter much to me. I wasn’t out there to challenge some record. I wanted to paddle and push myself that day. I wanted to paddle a river that had once instilled great fear in me. I wanted to test my fitness and see if I had the minerals to step up to the plate and complete the task. And I couldn’t be happier with the outcome. The real challenge would come the next two or three days as my legs screamed and I went on a steady diet of Vitamin I.

We went back into the gorge Sunday. This time for only one lap before setting out on the 7 hour trip home. It was kinda odd not paddling like we had Saturday, linking all the rapids together. I think it would have been a good bit more difficult to complete our 4 lap day on Sunday with the crowds that were now in full effect. However we took our time, shot some video and pictures, and just enjoyed the beauty of being out there on the mighty Tallulah once again.

Below are some pics of Sunday both that Adam shot and I captured from video.

Till next time

Stay Wet
&
Pray for Rain

Joey




























































Jeremy and Charlie hamming it up for the camera but don't worry these guys are "professionals"