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| Camp at "Roller Coaster" under the Aurora Borealis |
We were enjoying the Great Slave River in NW Territories, it
was fall. The September coolness
was beginning to hint of winter. One could almost smell the breath of Polar
Bears as rain turned to snow and dry leaves, picked up by icy winds, gathered
in the eddies.
The Slave was running
around 200,000 cfs, and we had made a camp on an Island next to a classic surf
wave, named Roller Coaster. Nearly
any kayak trick you could think of was possible on this wave, and with class 2
consequences below, a sauna and hundreds of pounds of food- we did not feel
particularly vulnerable. We were
having the surf sessions of our life under the green and pink aurora borealis
and star filled skies...Yes, we were surfing at night.
The thing about the
Slave, unlike any river I have ever paddled on, is that it's character is
multifaceted. It is
huge beyond comprehension, and with many many channels that drain it north
through the Fort Fitz- Fort Smith
portages of days gone by.
The Slave is so large
it takes nearly 45min. Just to paddle it's width! Then you have to figure out which channel or channels you
need to take.
As I added a few more
sauna rocks to our fire, these two paddlers appeared in the calm bits above our
camp. They looked scared and tired
and cautious... Only one of them had a paddle.
As we soon found out,
these two paddlers from Germany had good reason for their exhaustion. They had ran into a fellow paddler in
the Bar in Fort Smith looking for Beta on how to get to our “Camp” on the
island at Roller Coaster. Getting
Beta in the Bar for the Slave River is like getting someone to draw you a map
on a bubble gum wrapper of where to go on the Grand Canyon!
The two adventurers
were bound for trouble...they got to the put-in, and started the paddle trek
across the width of the river, with many bends falling away and channels
snaking into pits of steam with no visible means of scouting. “Where do we go left?” and “What
direction are we heading?” are two of the most common questions in this
area...and also challenging to answer...”we will go this way and then bend
right and then bend left, left and back right then stay straight, then work
left and back right.”
They ended up heading
straight into an area referred to as “Land of a thousand Holes”, where one can
see islands choked with log jams, like boats pushing logs against their bows,
holes the size of apartment buildings, and shore seems like a faint idea gone
by.
These two were
instantly separated from each other, in a mad dash to avoid what was
unavoidable at this point. The two
had their hands full, on what I call Soloing with friends, which simply means;
your friends are nearby, but all of you are too busy saving your own butt, that
you cannot do much for anyone else.
Survival paddling, where once you have gotten it together, you can begin
the process of trying to “find” your friends and see how they faired.
They both dropped into
holes that were far bigger than anything they ever had intentionally surfed,
and one swam out, loosing most of his food, his paddle and any idea of dry
cloths. These two had to paddle
several rapids, having never seen or scouted any of it, and not a spare or hand paddle to use,
once the paddle was gone.
So, it was understandable
that once these two reached our Indian Bazaar of an island, complete with
curry, rice, soup, beer and meat...a hot sauna, and no bugs...They didn't want
to leave unless we showed them the way back to the take out. I could feel their humility...nothing
humbles a person faster than dropping into house size holes without a paddle
during a fall snow.
by John Fullbright
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