A Stream Flows Fastest In A Channel That Is We Paddled the Blackstone River and Lived

You are searching about A Stream Flows Fastest In A Channel That Is, today we will share with you article about A Stream Flows Fastest In A Channel That Is was compiled and edited by our team from many sources on the internet. Hope this article on the topic A Stream Flows Fastest In A Channel That Is is useful to you.

We Paddled the Blackstone River and Lived

After paddling up the mighty Yukon from Whitehorse, YT, we landed our kayaks near the mouth of the Klondike River at Dawson City. The year was 1962, the century of the discovery of gold and the Klondike Gold Rush. Dawson City brought back a historic atmosphere of past glory and luxury, and we took several days to enjoy and photograph some of the interesting sites.

My wife Renat, our friend Konrad and I were determined to make our river route north into the Arctic Ocean. We chase happiness and drive for adventure that drives the crane to fly north again. As per the rules we registered our planned journey with the government office and gave our estimated time of arrival. The officer slowly nodded after reading our form.

“So, you want to divert the Blackstone, Peel and Mackenzie Rivers into the Arctic Ocean?” he questioned. Then he told us that the only gravel road ended at the headwaters of the Blackstone, that the area was uninhabited for more than 600 miles and that there was no air patrol.

“No one has attempted this route and there is no sea-plane landing site before the Peel River,” he added and wished us luck. We shook hands and I saw a look of sadness on his face.

In the afternoon we bought detailed maps of all three rivers, plenty of food supplies, mosquito nets and three pairs of Klondike boots. We also arranged a seventy mile ride by bush taxi and were happy to start our road trip the next morning.

After we loaded our disassembled kayaks and all the gear onto the truck, we enjoyed a bumpy ride down the winding gravel road. A few hours later we saw a small bridge crossing the river. This was the end of the road. The driver helped us unload the truck along the flat and grassy river and we were eager to set up camp and assemble the kayaks. The river was calm and small enough to cross the stones. Two days later we were ready and pushing our kayaks up the Blackstone River. The river is so calm and slow flowing that it is hard to believe that we are the first to paddle this river. The day was Friday, June 13, 1962. Needless to say, we were not superstitious.

We had walked only half a mile when the river took a sharp left turn and the scene changed like something out of a movie: the river split into thousands of small streams that spread over an ancient glacial bed more than a mile wide. The left bank was covered with remnants of coarse ice, about twelve feet thick, and our kayaks were stuck in the rocks. I was grateful for our new Klondike boots and pregnant cotton pants, which kept the water in but eventually warmed it up. We were equipped with “low tech” warm-water insulation and were about to discover its efficiency.

Our next step was to wade into the icy water and pull the kayaks behind us with their ropes. We call this “treadling”. It can be fun when there are connecting streams that are at least three inches deep, but we used our determination to achieve our goal. There was no other option. This new type of adventure stayed with us for four days, wading ten to twelve hours each day to cover a total distance of sixteen miles. When the Blackstone finally left the flat pool of rocks, she created a beautiful river but not without a few “boobie-traps”. It was like a minefield of big round rocks, two to three feet high, sometimes interspersed with shallow water, but we were happy to be paddling again.

Renate then hit a rock and it overturned. Fortunately the water was deep enough to avoid injury. She went ashore while I tended to her kayak. It was time to set up camp, dry our clothes over the fire and celebrate the successful bedding of the glacier. Instead of champagne we settled for some brown rice, a can of salmon and a chocolate bar for dessert. Renate is a good paddler but the crosscurrent from the gravel-bank on the left tricked her and carried her over the rocks. There were a lot of mosquitoes, but we were equipped with mosquito nets and got used to eating with our eyes closed while our faces were covered in the smoke of the fire. There were no insects above any of the rivers.

The Blackstone River has since been upgraded to a paddler’s paradise with lush vegetation and the Ogilvy Mountains in the background. It was a great reward for all our pioneering experiences. Over the next two days I caught enough trout and arctic grayling to turn dinner into a feast.

The river grew large and often broke into small islands or gravel-banks. I was leading the way, looking for the channel with the fastest flow. When I saw the water flowing to the right, I followed the now past bush-covered island. Shooting a sharp turn to the left was fun, but suddenly I was faced with a fallen lion tree that blocked much of the route.

I yelled “Go right and go straight through Eddy!” And cut into the greens. The strong current rocked my kayak crossway and rolled it over. I was pushed deep, deep into the branches, and used all my strength to pull myself up to keep my head above water. Desperately I grabbed the sticks that surrounded me and fought against the power of the river.

Suddenly I heard Renate’s voice on my upper trunk. She called my name, clearing the branches in her path. I answered eagerly and felt renewed hope and endurance. Then she swung the knife hard and angrily and cut the branches that held me. I pushed my feet onto the kayak and took a deep dive. Before I surfaced, I grabbed the bow-line and swam to safety. Together we pulled in the line and reclaimed my kayak from its trap.

“But where’s your tripod?” she asked.

“I need a tripod for filming!” I insisted and jumped back into the icy water. Something shiny caught my eye but it looked very blurry. It must have gone at least fifteen feet deep. I finally got close enough to recognize my tripod and grabbed it. When I brought it back we were both happy and relieved and my wife gave me a big hug.

After we got our kayaks past the trees, we continued our journey and found our friend Konrad. We found him a mile below on a gravel-bank. He was filling his kayak with water and explained that he had tried to bypass the sweeper but got pinched.

Moments later we were paddling back to the Blackstone and headed for the Peel River, a river deep enough and unproblematic, so we were told.

In the evening we hung our clothes on a line beside the fire; It was now a common practice. My mind was still engrossed in the events that had saved my life, and I said:

“I thank you, Renate, for following my instructions to go to Eddy near the fallen tree, but how did the knife get into your kayak?”

“It must have happened when we were packing in the morning,” she said. “I know it’s supposed to be in your kayak, and I’m confused about it myself.”

“It was the best mistake we ever made,” I said. “At the beginning of the journey I didn’t believe in spiritual guidance, but I think I’m learning very fast.” –

Now we all laughed because it sounded so funny. Then I took my guitar and played while we sang, When Cranes Fly North Again. There is a certain romance that we only know in sweetness, hidden in hard times, and that we find on paths that no one has trodden.

Video about A Stream Flows Fastest In A Channel That Is

You can see more content about A Stream Flows Fastest In A Channel That Is on our youtube channel: Click Here

Question about A Stream Flows Fastest In A Channel That Is

If you have any questions about A Stream Flows Fastest In A Channel That Is, please let us know, all your questions or suggestions will help us improve in the following articles!

The article A Stream Flows Fastest In A Channel That Is was compiled by me and my team from many sources. If you find the article A Stream Flows Fastest In A Channel That Is helpful to you, please support the team Like or Share!

Rate Articles A Stream Flows Fastest In A Channel That Is

Rate: 4-5 stars
Ratings: 8468
Views: 71049654

Search keywords A Stream Flows Fastest In A Channel That Is

A Stream Flows Fastest In A Channel That Is
way A Stream Flows Fastest In A Channel That Is
tutorial A Stream Flows Fastest In A Channel That Is
A Stream Flows Fastest In A Channel That Is free
#Paddled #Blackstone #River #Lived

Source: https://ezinearticles.com/?We-Paddled-the-Blackstone-River-and-Lived&id=7838137