Our fourth scout left us fairly confident that we could paddle the Carbon at lower flows. Then we heard about Rick's Slide. Here are some quotes I pulled of the net:

One rapid, known as Rick's slide, is a big step above the rest of the run in difficulty. It is very difficult to scout this rapid, and if you blow the move at high water you may be in BIG trouble. (http://kayak.physics.orst.edu/%7Etpw/kayaking/display.cgi/d.htm#5J)

It never ceases to amaze me how one high water event can erase holes, redirect channels, or create killer river features that didn't exist before. Rick's Slide on the Carbon, Lower Zigzag on Green Truss, and Killer Fang on the Clackamas are all good examples of this. (http://www.kayaking.peak.org/public_html/creeks/ubrice/ubrice.html)

It's a couple of drops below Lobster Claw, which is a few of drops below Welcome, which is under the bridge.... I have no idea what it's like at 200cfs, but I'll bet you want to stay left. If you make it out, let us know. Scary! (http://www.wakayakclub.com/cgi-bin/aforum.isa?zaq=21p261535a)

The third quote is a response that I got after questioning its location. Besides that, the only information that I could find was that several of the northwest's best paddlers have avoided it since it changed. Scary indeed.

I wasn't about to let my scouting effort go to waste so I decided to go ahead with the plan. Actually, I didn't have a plan but I found a job in Bellingham a few days after my fourth scout so the clock was ticking. I started work on Monday and the weekend flows looked good so we decided to go for it on Saturday. We planned for an early start so I packed my gear Friday night. I bummed an old climbing rope off my brother and threw in my harness and ascenders just in case.

I had trouble sleeping that night. The gray area is a very strange place. I often feel better being there than thinking about going. I ran through every scenario in my head until I finally convinced myself that we would find and portage Rick's Slide no matter what. By then it was well past midnight but I did manage to get a couple hours of sleep.

The Hummels arrived at 6:30am the next morning and we reached the take-out shortly after 7am. I parked the Mazda and we loaded everything into the Explorer. We talked about the usual. "Where is everybody? Sleeping. Why are we doing this? I don't know." The put-in is at least another half-hour but we stopped short of it because I promised myself that I would find and set up a means to portage Rick's Slide. We stopped at the Fairfax Bridge and Josh got out for an anxious look at Welcome. This was his first time scouting. My kayak didn't quite fit in their car so I stashed it in the bushes. I could have dealt with a decision not to paddle the Carbon that day but I didn't want some scumbag thief deciding for me. My pack was loaded with a 50m rope, runner, harness, ascenders and a quart of water. I was dressed in wetsuit gear but the Hummels chose to wear slacks. They didn't want to scout but I stuck with my promise and it wasn't long before we were schwacking below the bridge. The Hummels traversed at a safe distance while I climbed back and forth, testing my squirrelabilities, trying to get a look at each rapid. Soon we reached Lobster Claw and sure enough a few drops below there was Rick's Slide. We estimated the drop to be roughly 5ft although the hole on the right was quite swirly. Stay left and you should be fine. I decided to leave my rope below Lobster Claw just in case. Josh and I traversed back up while Jason climbed to the road. I slung a tree and rappelled to the edge of the canyon to make sure that it reached. My ascenders stayed with my harness at the top of the cliff since there was no place to lower them to. I figured that if we needed to climb out the first person could prussik. We caught up with Jason at the bridge and reloaded my kayak for the extra few miles of anxiety. I didn't have my guidebook so we weren't sure which road to take. The most probable was roughly 2 miles above the Fairfax Bridge. The gate was locked but we figured that had to be it.

Worried would be an understatement. The Hummels dressed slowly hoping they forgot something. A stubbed toe would have been enough for me to call it quits. There were a couple inches of snow on the ground but that gave no reason to bail. Like it or not, we were committed.

The road to Fairfax seemed longer than a quarter-mile. We eventually gave up and cut straight to the river. Jason must have been really worried because he soiled his pants on the way down. Turns out he fell a couple times in the mud. His boat was half full of dirt and shrubs by the time he got to the river. Josh and I practiced our rolls while he shoveled it out.

The first couple miles are gravelly Class II. Most people dread this type of scraping but I was enjoying every bit. I began to question my content as we entered the canyon. Why can't it all be Class II?

The bridge is your best signal that things are about to change. Give yourself a couple hundred feet if you plan on scouting Welcome. We got out on the left to confirm our line but setting up safety and/or portaging would be difficult on either side. I went first and shot through on the far left. Josh went next and got sucked into the nasty hole on the right. This sent me into rescue mode but he paddled out of it by the time I got my rope. Jason followed my line and made it through ok. The roar silenced our screams but our spirits had risen well above the canyon walls.

Welcome to the Carbon. The only way to get through is far left as Jason demonstrates.

Welcome was a stress saver. We were all glad to make it through -- myself for making it clean, Josh for getting worked, Jason for getting his photo taken. More importantly, we had one less difficult rapid ahead of us. Our screams were abundant as we relished in Class II for as far as the eye could see.

Josh and Jason relish in some Class II below Welcome.

Several fun ledge drops led to a long Class IV with a big reversal at its base. We got out on the right to scout it from above. I explained the line to the Hummels (I knew it well from my previous scouts) and Jason agreed to go first. He flipped in the first reversal and hit the biggy in the center. To make long working short, he spent most of his time upside down and eventually came out. He later said that he would have pulled if he hadn't caught a breath from his back deck. I went next and boofed the biggy right to left as did Josh. We both made it with some aggressive paddling throughout.

Jason about to get worked on a long Class IV. The biggy is where it narrows at the bottom. There is a pool below that so swimmers need not worry too much.

Despite two workings, our confidence was on the rise. Scouting opportunities were abundant and we were more than willing to take our time. Progress was measured in feet rather than miles although every inch was special. Clear water on solid bedrock was unreal and drips from the canyon walls were simply spectacular.

I had a difficult time believing where we were. Surrounded by death yet so full of life.

Josh in the midst. Lobster Claw is just around the corner.

Soon we came to a pool with a big horizon. A knowledgeable glance revealed the log several hundred feet above our heads. This is the one I'm standing on during our fourth scout and is the best way to recognize Lobster Claw from above. Far left was the only sane line at this flow. The right slot was partially blocked by a vertically pinned branch. Center was blocked by an enormous boulder. Left was a jumble of rocks with the smoothest line being a slide on the far left. I went first and found the slide to be somewhat angled. Jason followed my line while Josh waited for a whistle. I had some trouble finding a stance for a photo and Josh came down before I was ready. I barely caught him at the top.

Josh running far left on Lobster Claw. All you see here is the left side. This was the best stance I could find and is also where I fixed the rope earlier that morning.

We had no trouble running Lobster Claw and although my rope was tempting we continued on. The river had much more to offer and Rick's Slide was of little concern at the time. The next few rapids were difficult to scout but I managed to look at each of them from above. Josh and Jason stayed the their boats because space was limited on the slippery banks. This would not be a good place to swim because your chances of recovering before Rick's Slide are slim to none.

I recall two or three Class IV pool drops between Lobster Claw and Rick's Slide. I flipped end over end in a reversal on the last one. My helmet proceeded to get beat until I found some green water to roll in. That was my first flip of the day but I can't really complain because I would have been in some serious pain had I flipped side to side. Fortunately, the pool above Rick's Slide is quite large so I had no trouble eddying out.

Jason in the rapid below Lobster Claw. I believe that Rick's Slide is the last piece of froth seen in the distance. Of all the places…

Frightened would be an understatement. The pool above Rick's Slide is among the scariest places that I've been. There is literally no way out. I have a fair amount of rock climbing experience (up to 5.12) but I would rather swim than try to climb either wall.

Our basic problem with Rick's was that it was way bigger than it looked from the canyon rim. Double what we expected was on the conservative end. We sat in an eddy on the left for several minutes trying to figure out how to get back to our rope. Let's just say that Rainier had a better chance of erupting. We wasted another few minutes trying to figure out how to scout it. There was a moving eddy on the right where you could access a sloping bank. You'd have to hold onto the rock with one hand and get out of your boat with what's left of the other. That might give you a look into the maw but you'd still have to run it. I could have gotten out but there was no way that I was going to try to put in 20ft above the worst part of the drop. We spent the final few minutes trying to convince ourselves to go for it. I was convinced because there was no alternative. The Hummels figured that they would let me go first and either follow or wait for a rescue, depending on the outcome. Rescue as in volunteers, dogs, helicopters, etc. There was no way to set up safety between ourselves.

Finally the time came. I peeled from the eddy and set a course for the left side of Rick's. The Hummels took notes so they'd know what to or what not to do. I ended up far left with as much speed as I could muster. I remember the ramp I slid down sloped to the right. You almost have to bank it in order to avoid slipping into the swirly on the right. Even if you make the slide you're not guaranteed to make it out. The walls close in and a good portion of the current gets sent back into the swirly. I made it with a bunch of paddling and a bit of luck. The current stayed fast until I reached a pool a couple hundred feet down where I eddied out left. I blew a whistle and waited for the Hummels to come down.

It wasn't the best of eddies so I had to struggle to maintain my view. I caught Josh halfway down the slide in a seemingly good place. I thought he was out but the swirly thought otherwise. His boat proceeded to sink in the bottomless froth. I lost count of his flips because I could barely distinguish the bottom of his boat from the top of his helmet. We made eye contact several times and I signaled for him to hold on and keep paddling. I hoped that it would spit him out but after the forth or fifth cycle, I was beginning to wonder. Concern gave way to helpless guilt. His final cycle took him deep beneath the spillway and several seconds later he surfaced downstream sans boat and paddle. I signaled for him to swim to my eddy and took off downstream to a larger pool where I planned to set up rescue for his gear. Fortunately, his boat got stuck on rocks between the pools and his paddle basically floated into his hands on shore. Several minutes had passed and Jason was still waiting at the top of the drop for a signal. I had my whistle but what was I to blow? One meaning yes or two meaning no? Josh would have rather spent the night in his boat at the top of the drop. I would have probably gone for it again. Jason ended up going for it on his own accord. He made it through, sans swirly, and accompanied me for a photo of our fiasco.

The fiasco. Rick's Slide is the 12 to 15-footer way up there. You can barely see the ramp that sometimes gets you through. Josh's boat is seen on shore of the lower drop where it got pinned after he swam.

There are a few more things that I'd like to mention about Rick's Slide. If you are looking for a comparison it's like a big version of Welcome. The hole on the right is similar though much bigger on Rick's. The slide on the left is smoother although at over triple the size, your likelihood of ending up in the hole is much greater on Rick's. Worst of all, Welcome has the potential to portage and/or set up safety, Rick's does not. Perhaps the only good note is that the pool above Rick's is quite large making it very difficult to screw up the entry (assuming you know where to go).

Rick's left us with a bad impression. Josh was convinced he was dead so the what doesn't kill you makes you stronger had yet to set in. I knew the feeling from a similar experience on the Little Nisqually a few months prior. Jason was still trying to piece things together. Fortunately, we are well versed in recovering from bad situations. Jason and I did our best to encourage Josh. We reasoned that we would never be back and agreed to make the most of what was left.

The rapids below Rick's provided a cure to our fear. The canyon eased its grip allowing us to scout and the Class III-IV pool drops were a welcomed find. We found some garbage floating in the eddies but the rapids were far from trashy.

Josh and Jason running some Class III-IV pool drop below Rick's Slide.

Jason proving the trash wrong. The riverwide log is just below here.

Finally we came to a riverwide log that was an easy portage on the right. We knew the 14-footer was just below here so we eddied out right to have a look. What we found was not encouraging. The drop appeared to be less than 14ft but there seemed to be more water flowing behind it than out of it. It would have been a perfect boof but if something went wrong we risked loosing ourselves or our gear in the mysterious cave. Josh was convinced that something would go wrong so we all agreed to portage. I was disappointed because it would have been a sweet photo.

The 14-footer that we portaged. You can't tell from this photo but there was a lot of current feeding into the cave whose unknown depth and no apparent exit spelled trouble for a swimmer.

Several more Class III-IV rapids made us forget about the 14-footer that we portaged. The canyon eventually gave way to valley. We had gone less than halfway though we felt as if it were over.

Little did we know, the best was yet to come.

Myself boofing a fun one near the end of the first… canyon.

Photographer: Josh

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