It’s been quite a while since I’ve been there, but it is one of the most beautiful places on the planet. The Little Missouri River in Southwest Arkansas has some decent whitewater at higher levels and sits in a beautiful steep walled valley. It’s close to the Cossatot, which can get class V at higher levels, so it was a haunt of ours back in Arkansas. People used to look at us when we pulled into Albert Pike, then at the Little Mo, then back at us and one of them would inevitably say, “You boys is gonna die.”
It was the scene of one of the worst days of all time that I had in a kayak. We were chasing thunderstorms with boats on top of the car. It was raining like crazy and every creek and river in the area was coming up. We had just left Albert Pike and stopped at a store to call our gang and let them know the boating was good. This was before cell phones were widespread, so I was on a pay-phone that was attached to a telephone pole, talking to a buddy in Hot Springs and trying to convince him that even though it was 4:30am, it would be a good time to get his boat and meet us. That’s when lighting struck the telephone pole, arced out of it and into my arm. It didn’t kill me, obviously, but it toasted the phone pretty well and when I looked around I was ten feet from where I had been. “What the hell was that?” the voice on the other end asked through the chopped up static of the burned out receiver. “Lightning, just get down here, I have to find a new phone.” was my response.
I should have called it quits and gone back home and to bed right then and there. But, no. On Baker Creek I got sucked under a tree. Me and the boat came out and I rolled up OK, but my paddle stayed with the tree. I used someone’s webbed gloves to hand paddle the rest of the way out. I really should have called it quits there. Alas, no.
On the ‘Tot, which was running pretty well, but not all that high, I blew the lead in to the Machine and managed to kiss Cannonball with my head. At that point, I was pretty dizzy and dis-oriented, so I did get out of the boat for the day. But, then I went to set safety and fell. I ended up hanging upside down with my right leg caught in a crevice while a little stream of the ‘Tot shot over the rock and water-boarded me. That was the worst sit-up I’ve ever had to do.
It pains me greatly to see what has happened in the Albert Pike Campground. The place is absolutely gorgeous. I hope they have found all of the tragedy they will find. My thoughts go out to the families who have lost someone there. I hope all of my old boating buddies are OK.
I just got through catching up on the news and read an article over at 9news on bicycle traffic at the Colorado National Monument.
Bike traffic appears to be up 31% since 2008. Here’s a quote from the article that has me a little perplexed:
Superintendent Joan Anzelmo tells The Daily Sentinel newspaper in Grand Junction that it’s “beyond belief” that no cyclists have been killed given how heavy traffic is.
Wow, even when there are no problems and bikes and cars manage to peacefully co-exist, someone always seems to want to impose restrictions.
For those not familiar with the Colorado National Monument, it’s not a statue, it’s kind of like a mini Grand Canyon:
It’s also the location of some of the climbing scenes in the “Hell of the West” portion of American Flyers:
It’s a park, not a highway. Eventually, someone will lose control and go shooting over the edge or into traffic, could be a biker or it could be a driver. It will happen. But imposing restrictions probably won’t make any difference. Cars are usually going so slowly there that I’m not sure what restrictions could be imposed that would improve on the 0% death-rate. It’s not a death-trap, so don’t take a good thing and muck it all up. Hopefully the concern is sincere. For my part, I’ll be watching for the “to protect the children” statement that usually follows.
Hmm, improving on a 0% death rate, the only way I can see that happening is if she brings in a Voodoo priest and suddenly we have zombie bikers appearing. If they keep it to a -3.0% rate, that would give plenty of cushion without them eating the brains of too many West Slopers.
Lara and I went on a muddy hike down at Roxborough State Park with the intention of shooting over the ridge and heading into Waterton Canyon. It was a little too muddy for that, so we stuck to one of the wider, drier trails.
We ran into a couple of mule deer who did not seem afraid of us.
I kept smelling what I thought were either Javalina or maybe a skunk, but the aroma didn’t quite match either. It became incredibly clear what it was when we ran across this:
The twig in the lower left is approximately 30 inches, so obviously whatever left the print was enormous. Also notice that it had six toes. While not the first to run across evidence of Bigfoot in Colorado, we felt extremely lucky to spot this, even if it is a mutant bigfoot with a vestigial sixth toe. This will surely increase the value of the carcass when he falls prey to one of the traps I set (baited with Big Macs).
Just when you think it’s safe to go back in the water, three people have died on the Arkansas River in the last week. All were rafters, two at The Numbers and one at the rather innocuous Pinball rapid. It was joining the swim team at Rigor Mortis on Clear Creek that ended my run (and I was playing it safe, at that), but I was thinking of picking up a new boat and puttering around. Suddenly memories of bouncing off of boulders, bleeding profusely, and hanging on with the tips of my frozen fingers in snow melt waters are in the forefront of my mind. I actually paddled four more times after the Clear Creek incident, including two each on the rapids mentioned above, but all I could think about was catching that next eddy, or else.
I guess my paranoia about it isn’t completely gone, dropping sideways into a hole in a whitewater park has no appeal to me, and sneaking every route seems beside the point. I’ll have to ruminate a little further before I drop dime on some new gear.
P.S.
I never met the guy, but I really miss William (not Bill) Nealy.
…I was staying away from Cycling News. Hamilton positive, Armstrong dodging testers. It’s become a sick, tired joke. There are only so many times you can listen to the same thing again and again without losing the capability to believe a word that’s said.
12 days and counting where I’ve seen the frontside of the sunrise. I feel privy to an unseen waking smile while the world clears its eyes for a new day. All the gear is together, half a pot of coffee is consumed (the rest waiting on ice for the heat of the day), and I haven’t decided where to ride. I’ll figure it out when it’s in front of me.
This is turning into a great weekend. I was a complete burnout at work, so I resigned. I was afraid my legs were gone but I felt super strong and owned Buff Creek. I found myself wishing I was on a single speed. Even a surprise appearance by a ghost from the past could not shake my mood. It’s been a good day — tomorrow will be even better, I can just feel it.
Back in the day, I bought the first version of the Stumpjumper FSR XC. It was a very very nice ride. I rode the crap out of that bike. I went through four drive trains, two front forks, and three wheelsets. I finally had to put it down a couple of years ago because the bushings had ovalized their frame mounts. The swing arm was kaput. I stripped all of the parts, because I figured I would need them again. I was right.
I found a new one! Picking it up tonight. I think this time around, I’ll leave the granny ring on. It’s gonna be good riding this summer.
I got some much needed sleep last night, and was up bright and early to get my ride on. It was drizzling when I walked out of the hotel, so I headed downtown to get some coffee at Aspen.
I was welcomed by ‘Tater, at least I think that’s his name. He seems to be the town greeter, and is always smiling. I always see him when I’m out there and he always seems happy and cheerful.
I picked up some gifts at Over the Edge. They recommended heading for 18 road before more rain came in. The rain held off for a while, and I managed to hit Joe’s, Chutes and Ladders. I stopped back at the car and was heading for the Edge when it uncorked. I short cutted back to Joe’s and cut back up Kessel. I was completely soaked, and luckily hadn’t picked up too much mud.
The forecast called for more rain, so I decided to head home. It rained all the way to Vail, and was snowing pretty good on the Pass. It was snowing like crazy at the Divide, I’m betting Loveland will be open for skiing next weekend (if it’s not already). So, now, safe at home, some images are posted in the album.
