I received a call from my nursing student pal Carl the other night. He was starved of outdoor life and looking for some release. “Hey man, wanna go creeking tomorrow? I gotta get out of here.” Being the supportive friend and fellow member of Paddlemaniacs anonymous, I accepted. My next and obvious question was: “Where are we going to go, it’s April dude?” To which Carl replied in a secretive voice. “Erie Creek man, it is just over the Bombi pass near Salmo. The fact that the run was published in The West Kootenay Whitewater Guide Book provided some comfort, at least until we read the description that mentioned a class 6- drop and lots of wood. Despite the warning signs we had to check it out since there were no other options. At the very least it would be a day of strange music in Carl’s A-team truck followed by gearing up just to wander the woods while carrying a kayak, what could be better?
We met at the crack of noon for our mysterious mission to Erie. While stocking up on some river snacks, Carl and I realized that a third kayaker was a pretty good idea and thought of our friend Chad, who among being a kick ass paddler for only 2 years of experience was also working at the grocery store. This was not the first time we sprung Chad out of work early to go boating and I am sure it won’t be the last. The three of us piled into the A-team truck and headed up the pass to the creek. When we arrived at the take out bridge we ignored the low water levels, dropped a bike off and headed up the Forest Service road 10kms to the put in. After about 1 km of driving we noticed the snow on either side of the creek increasing. We arrived at the rec site to three feet of snow and no idea what we were getting into. So far a typical day of creeking in the Kootenays.
Chad Gearing up
WATER LEVELS
After gearing we tobogganed onto the creek by 2:30. The first 2-3 km was pretty chill with a flat and straight riverbed, a great warm up for three paddlers used to cartwheeling playboats in the comfort of our local Hero Hole. The run started to pick up in excitement as we encountered some decent boulder gardens. Ice cold whitewater splashed our faces awakening our senses and reminding us why playboating is what you do when there is no creeking to be had. I glanced around at my crew and noticed gleaming smiles and anticipation building.
We were maintaining a lead, middle and sweep boater formation with Chad in the middle. At some point Chad got ahead and didn’t look back, I guess he was getting bored of the relatively calm whitewater and wanted to burn some energy. I was almost at the point where I could overtake him when I noticed the creek funnel through a 6-foot wide mini canyon that abruptly ended in a wall of rock, whitewater, and snow. I shouted to Chad to eddy out but he was in the thick of it. After catching the eddy above the drop, Carl soon followed me in and we contemplated the chances of Chad’s survival. “Well better only one of us and not all three” Carl reasoned. Not really knowing what to do since it would be about 15-20 minutes before we portaged around to reach Chad I blew my whistle remembering that Chad had just geared his safety vest properly and had a whistle. After a few moments of silence that seemed like centuries, we heard the unmistakable sound of a Fox 40. Thank the river gods!! So, using some flawed early season logic we figured the drop wasn’t as serious as it looked and pulled out into the oblivion of white and hoped for the best. As soon as I approached the wall of white water that bent into a 90-degree angle to the left I thought to myself, I don’t think that was Chad’s whistle after all, it must have been a water ouzel (grey jovial whitewater bird)
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There was no way I am going to make it. To my surprise I was buried in whitewater and emerged at the bottom of the pool staring bright eyed at Chad’s familiar face and it wasn’t in whitewater heaven. Carl popped up soon after and we all celebrated for our lives. Deciding to take a look, we hiked up the snow-covered rocks and had a closer look. We all agreed we would not have run the rapid if we actually scouted it first. Chad had just ran a first descent of a supposed class 6- drop, we named it Tube Steak due to the sausage like appearance of the drop and the fact that it felt like you were squeezed into the pork casing of unknown meat. Tubesteak was followed by about 1 km of flat but swift water and the next challenging drop, Bitchslap. After about 1/2 hour of scouting and “trimming” I dropped in and ran the drop a little too fast a little too left so I was slapped into the left wall and then the right before exiting the thrilling ride. Chad cleaned the line and Carl mimicked my attempt by grazing the wall also. The remainder of the ride was excellent with super fun three and four foot ledge drops and zigzagging boulder chutes.
TUBESTEAK
Reaching the bridge by 4:30, we were totally shocked by our rapid run down the nine or ten kilometer creek section. After the bike shuttle we were out of there by six o’clock giving me time to make date night with my waiting wife. The end result is a first choice local creek run that can be paddled at a time of year we only dream of creeking. All members emerged safely and the sun was still shining down on us as we drove down the pass back to our homes.
Carl 100% Stoke Level
See you on the creeks,
Chris Ryman
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