Day Four - Bull Run Canyon
to Columbia River
to Columbia River
On the morning of the fourth day I was up in the pre dawn light and out of the tent.
The day was perfectly still and clear and although temperatures were cool, the
weather perfect for paddling. I fired up the stove and made some coffee and tea while
getting out breakfast. Michelle was up shortly afterwards and a simple breakfast took
very little time to finish up. Eager to break camp and get moving, I packed up the tent
while Michelle changed into her river clothes for the day. I stuck with my pants and
shirt, but Michelle threw on some rain pants and a windbreaker to keep the morning
chill off.
We pulled away from camp around 7:30 and paddled the class II+ Bull Run Rapids on
river right. The morning light was spectacular and the colors it produced on the
canyon walls were surreal. Our canoe glided silently and almost effortlessly along the
surface of the fast flowing Deschutes. The canyon deepened and we were rocketed
through this amazing landscape and even took a few float breaks to enjoy the day. I
kept commenting to Michelle about how this was one of the best mornings I had ever
experienced on a trip. Waking up early and well rested is always a treat and to be
able to do so in such a spectacular setting was even more special.
In an hour we had traveled about 6 miles and reached the abandoned Harris
Homestead, were a water tower and empty cabin stand as remnants of a past era.
The structures here are in remarkably excellent condition, but since the area was
occupied by fishermen and campers we decided to keep paddling and not explore the
site. All through this section we were lucky to see very little boat traffic on the river.
The day was perfectly still and clear and although temperatures were cool, the
weather perfect for paddling. I fired up the stove and made some coffee and tea while
getting out breakfast. Michelle was up shortly afterwards and a simple breakfast took
very little time to finish up. Eager to break camp and get moving, I packed up the tent
while Michelle changed into her river clothes for the day. I stuck with my pants and
shirt, but Michelle threw on some rain pants and a windbreaker to keep the morning
chill off.
We pulled away from camp around 7:30 and paddled the class II+ Bull Run Rapids on
river right. The morning light was spectacular and the colors it produced on the
canyon walls were surreal. Our canoe glided silently and almost effortlessly along the
surface of the fast flowing Deschutes. The canyon deepened and we were rocketed
through this amazing landscape and even took a few float breaks to enjoy the day. I
kept commenting to Michelle about how this was one of the best mornings I had ever
experienced on a trip. Waking up early and well rested is always a treat and to be
able to do so in such a spectacular setting was even more special.
In an hour we had traveled about 6 miles and reached the abandoned Harris
Homestead, were a water tower and empty cabin stand as remnants of a past era.
The structures here are in remarkably excellent condition, but since the area was
occupied by fishermen and campers we decided to keep paddling and not explore the
site. All through this section we were lucky to see very little boat traffic on the river.
Most groups that we saw were still going through their
morning routine in camp or fishing from shore. Not wanting
to squander the chance to have the river to ourselves
without a headwind we continued along, running several
pushy class II rapids and working to keep out of the main
channel to avoid taking on lots of water.
By 9:00 or so we decided to head to shore for a rest and to
filter some drinking water. Only about 9 miles remained to
the takeout but the second we landed to rest a breeze blew
up the canyon. While we pumped water and had some
snacks the breeze became more of a constant wind and by
the time we were ready to start paddling again the
upcanyon wind was blowing at a steady ten or fifteen miles
an hour. A few powerboats passed on their way upstream
and some clouds moved over the edge of the canyon rim.
The combination of the steady wind, morning chill, and
cloud cover made the day a little raw, but we would have to
push on. Luckily for us we were well rested, well fed, and
completely energized by the incredible progress we had
made all morning and the stunning landscape that we had
been privileged to travel through for the last four days. A
few hours of hard work would not detract from the
incredible experience we had on what had turned out to be
an even better trip than I had anticipated.
morning routine in camp or fishing from shore. Not wanting
to squander the chance to have the river to ourselves
without a headwind we continued along, running several
pushy class II rapids and working to keep out of the main
channel to avoid taking on lots of water.
By 9:00 or so we decided to head to shore for a rest and to
filter some drinking water. Only about 9 miles remained to
the takeout but the second we landed to rest a breeze blew
up the canyon. While we pumped water and had some
snacks the breeze became more of a constant wind and by
the time we were ready to start paddling again the
upcanyon wind was blowing at a steady ten or fifteen miles
an hour. A few powerboats passed on their way upstream
and some clouds moved over the edge of the canyon rim.
The combination of the steady wind, morning chill, and
cloud cover made the day a little raw, but we would have to
push on. Luckily for us we were well rested, well fed, and
completely energized by the incredible progress we had
made all morning and the stunning landscape that we had
been privileged to travel through for the last four days. A
few hours of hard work would not detract from the
incredible experience we had on what had turned out to be
an even better trip than I had anticipated.
Had the remaining nine miles of the river been flatwater there is no way
we would have been able to paddle against the consistently strong
headwind. Even with the five mile an hour current our pace was much
reduced. Heavier gusts hammered our little canoe and when the wind
shifted and hit us at an angle we were forced to paddle at an angle and
in essence ferry along downstream. Being broadside at all in the
heavier gusts made it impossible to paddle since the wind tended to
twist and turn the canoe in the wrong direction. Occasionally Michelle
and I had to paddle on the same side of the boat to hold our
downstream course while keeping up forward momentum.
It took nearly an hour to cover the next two miles of river, but we
eventually found ourselves eddying out on river left above Wasshout
Rapids. This class III rapid formed in 1995 when a flash flood caused
by a locally violent thunderstorm sent boulder and other debris down a
normally dry tributary and into the Deschutes. On the scout it was
obvious that running our canoe down the center through the large
hydraulic and offset would waves would be a bad idea. A shallow sneak
line would be simple to run tight to the left shore and we headed back to
the canoe eager to get on our way. Unfortunately, a big gust of wind
slammed into us at the top of the drop and we ended up broached on a
rock near the end of the rapid. With the upstream gunnel dangerously
close to dipping under water I had to act quickly. If the canoe had
flipped upstream here it almost certainly would have wrapped around
the rock and left us with a big project on our hands. I abandoned ship,
stepped into the shallow water, and wrenched the boat free before
jumping back in and paddling away unscathed. Never a dull moment!
Below Wreck Rapids the Deschutes makes a broad bend to the right
and we were lucky to be temporarily shielded from the winds that were
now racing up the lower canyon. We met a rafter that frequently ran
this stretch of river and he said that winds like this were common, but
that they usually do not start until around noon. This was unusual and
he was suffering at the oars of his boat worse than we were suffering at
our paddles. The next two miles saw us straining our shoulders while
battling the wind that was gusting even harder at this point. We hugged
the shore, thankful of the powerful current, and made remarkably good
time into the strong blasts of air conspiring to stop us altogether.
we would have been able to paddle against the consistently strong
headwind. Even with the five mile an hour current our pace was much
reduced. Heavier gusts hammered our little canoe and when the wind
shifted and hit us at an angle we were forced to paddle at an angle and
in essence ferry along downstream. Being broadside at all in the
heavier gusts made it impossible to paddle since the wind tended to
twist and turn the canoe in the wrong direction. Occasionally Michelle
and I had to paddle on the same side of the boat to hold our
downstream course while keeping up forward momentum.
It took nearly an hour to cover the next two miles of river, but we
eventually found ourselves eddying out on river left above Wasshout
Rapids. This class III rapid formed in 1995 when a flash flood caused
by a locally violent thunderstorm sent boulder and other debris down a
normally dry tributary and into the Deschutes. On the scout it was
obvious that running our canoe down the center through the large
hydraulic and offset would waves would be a bad idea. A shallow sneak
line would be simple to run tight to the left shore and we headed back to
the canoe eager to get on our way. Unfortunately, a big gust of wind
slammed into us at the top of the drop and we ended up broached on a
rock near the end of the rapid. With the upstream gunnel dangerously
close to dipping under water I had to act quickly. If the canoe had
flipped upstream here it almost certainly would have wrapped around
the rock and left us with a big project on our hands. I abandoned ship,
stepped into the shallow water, and wrenched the boat free before
jumping back in and paddling away unscathed. Never a dull moment!
Below Wreck Rapids the Deschutes makes a broad bend to the right
and we were lucky to be temporarily shielded from the winds that were
now racing up the lower canyon. We met a rafter that frequently ran
this stretch of river and he said that winds like this were common, but
that they usually do not start until around noon. This was unusual and
he was suffering at the oars of his boat worse than we were suffering at
our paddles. The next two miles saw us straining our shoulders while
battling the wind that was gusting even harder at this point. We hugged
the shore, thankful of the powerful current, and made remarkably good
time into the strong blasts of air conspiring to stop us altogether.
Determinedly we paddled on and eventually
found ourselves coming to the top of Gordon
Ridge Rapids, a long class III section that we
wanted to scout before committing to. Many
fishermen were plying the waters of the
Deschutes above this rapid and while we did
our best to give them room it was inevitable that
we crossed a few of their lines. After boat
scouting the main channel, which is quite
narrow at this rapid, it was obvious that we
should eddy out on river right to line or portage
the worse part of the rapids. Fortunately, the
lava flow that crossed the river and made
Gordon Ridge Rapids also provided a very
clean slide to line the canoe down into a
swirling eddy below the heaviest fifty yards of
the drop. This particular spot was once again
sheltered from the worst of the wind and it was
nice to be able to paddle out of the powerful
eddy without having to fight a gusting wind.
Below the main chute at this drop we made our
way through nearly a half mile of continuous
class II+ rapids, at one point eddying out and
dragging around a shallow drop with a heavy
wave.
found ourselves coming to the top of Gordon
Ridge Rapids, a long class III section that we
wanted to scout before committing to. Many
fishermen were plying the waters of the
Deschutes above this rapid and while we did
our best to give them room it was inevitable that
we crossed a few of their lines. After boat
scouting the main channel, which is quite
narrow at this rapid, it was obvious that we
should eddy out on river right to line or portage
the worse part of the rapids. Fortunately, the
lava flow that crossed the river and made
Gordon Ridge Rapids also provided a very
clean slide to line the canoe down into a
swirling eddy below the heaviest fifty yards of
the drop. This particular spot was once again
sheltered from the worst of the wind and it was
nice to be able to paddle out of the powerful
eddy without having to fight a gusting wind.
Below the main chute at this drop we made our
way through nearly a half mile of continuous
class II+ rapids, at one point eddying out and
dragging around a shallow drop with a heavy
wave.
Although Michelle was working hard to keep paddling into the
wind she kept a positive attitude and was surprised to hear that
we had actually been making good progress even with the
headwinds. Without much chatting we powered through the next
two miles and found increasingly strong winds to the top of
Colorado Rapids. The river channelized to the right and a huge
breaking wave stood above a large wavetrain that extended far
into the smooth quickwater below. The nature of the rapid
allowed us to paddle down on river left, eddy out just above the
breaking wave, and line for about twenty yards to the eddy
below the rapid. Once our canoe was past the rapid we pulled
out some food and stopped for an early lunch. We had already
put in fourteen miles and I was surprised at how hungry I had
become. While eating we heard the buzz of an approaching
engine and a motorboat slowed at the eddy below the rapid
before getting ready to climb the powerful tongue of water. The
boat powered up and headed in, running just river right of the
biggest waves, and slowing to a crawl at the strongest part of
the drop. Eventually the engine overcame the current and the
boat built up speed as it continued on upstream. Now it was
obvious why the rigs people were running up here had such
large outboards on them.
With four miles remaining we paddled on and enjoyed a few
stretches of river that were sheltered from the wind. For the
most part these sheltered stretches were very short and we
battled on for just over a mile to a long stretch of class II water
that deposited us at the top of Rattlesnake Rapids, allegedly the
most difficult rapid on the lower river. From the top I could see a
clear class II line down river right and we ended up not even
having to scout the long rapid. Excited but how easily this drop
was passed we charged ahead, rounded a bend to the right,
and were confronted with a stretch of class II whitewater that
lasted for over a half mile.
Both banks of the river were completely clogged with fishermen
that had walked up from the park at the mouth of the Deschutes
and it was impossible to avoid disturbing a few of them as we
tended to hug the right shore to keep out of the heavier waves.
It was at the top of these rapids that we also faced the strongest
winds of the trip. The headwind rushed into us at a steady 15
miles an hour here and frequent gusts must have come close to
twenty five miles an hour. Several times we were blow
broadside and actually pushed upstream in the rapid. Once or
twice a gust hit us so hard I had to kneel and brace to prevent
having us blown out of the canoe. Luckily the heaviest wind was
confined to gusts and some parts of the river acted more
effectively as wind funnels than others. Progress was made and
soon we were in the final mile of the Deschutes.
A glimpse of the Interstate 84 bridge and the broad Columbia
River was caught in the distance as we paddling towards the top
of Moody Rapids, the final class III of the trip. String winds
continued to make steering difficult, but I was able to hold us on
course and run a dry line on river left through Moody Rapids. In
five minutes we had reached the boat ramp at Heritage Landing
and were back into the real world. The first thing we did was to
unload the boat, drag it up onto the grass, and stretch our tight
arms and legs. It was just after noon and we were pretty happy
with being able to cover 18 miles in half a day.
Not long after we arrived a BLM guy and someone working for
the Forest Service introduced themselves. The Forest Service
guy was checking for fish and the BLM person looked over our
boater pass and made sure that everything was in line. Both of
these guys were somewhat amazed that we had canoed the
entire river from Trout Creek to here. They kept asking what we
did at the rapids and wanted to know how long Michelle and I
had been paddling together. They mentioned that the last
group of canoers that they saw at the take out had dumped
numerous times, lost a boat, and had their legs all bruised and
cut by the time they reached the take out. We smiled and said
we had done a bit of canoeing before.
wind she kept a positive attitude and was surprised to hear that
we had actually been making good progress even with the
headwinds. Without much chatting we powered through the next
two miles and found increasingly strong winds to the top of
Colorado Rapids. The river channelized to the right and a huge
breaking wave stood above a large wavetrain that extended far
into the smooth quickwater below. The nature of the rapid
allowed us to paddle down on river left, eddy out just above the
breaking wave, and line for about twenty yards to the eddy
below the rapid. Once our canoe was past the rapid we pulled
out some food and stopped for an early lunch. We had already
put in fourteen miles and I was surprised at how hungry I had
become. While eating we heard the buzz of an approaching
engine and a motorboat slowed at the eddy below the rapid
before getting ready to climb the powerful tongue of water. The
boat powered up and headed in, running just river right of the
biggest waves, and slowing to a crawl at the strongest part of
the drop. Eventually the engine overcame the current and the
boat built up speed as it continued on upstream. Now it was
obvious why the rigs people were running up here had such
large outboards on them.
With four miles remaining we paddled on and enjoyed a few
stretches of river that were sheltered from the wind. For the
most part these sheltered stretches were very short and we
battled on for just over a mile to a long stretch of class II water
that deposited us at the top of Rattlesnake Rapids, allegedly the
most difficult rapid on the lower river. From the top I could see a
clear class II line down river right and we ended up not even
having to scout the long rapid. Excited but how easily this drop
was passed we charged ahead, rounded a bend to the right,
and were confronted with a stretch of class II whitewater that
lasted for over a half mile.
Both banks of the river were completely clogged with fishermen
that had walked up from the park at the mouth of the Deschutes
and it was impossible to avoid disturbing a few of them as we
tended to hug the right shore to keep out of the heavier waves.
It was at the top of these rapids that we also faced the strongest
winds of the trip. The headwind rushed into us at a steady 15
miles an hour here and frequent gusts must have come close to
twenty five miles an hour. Several times we were blow
broadside and actually pushed upstream in the rapid. Once or
twice a gust hit us so hard I had to kneel and brace to prevent
having us blown out of the canoe. Luckily the heaviest wind was
confined to gusts and some parts of the river acted more
effectively as wind funnels than others. Progress was made and
soon we were in the final mile of the Deschutes.
A glimpse of the Interstate 84 bridge and the broad Columbia
River was caught in the distance as we paddling towards the top
of Moody Rapids, the final class III of the trip. String winds
continued to make steering difficult, but I was able to hold us on
course and run a dry line on river left through Moody Rapids. In
five minutes we had reached the boat ramp at Heritage Landing
and were back into the real world. The first thing we did was to
unload the boat, drag it up onto the grass, and stretch our tight
arms and legs. It was just after noon and we were pretty happy
with being able to cover 18 miles in half a day.
Not long after we arrived a BLM guy and someone working for
the Forest Service introduced themselves. The Forest Service
guy was checking for fish and the BLM person looked over our
boater pass and made sure that everything was in line. Both of
these guys were somewhat amazed that we had canoed the
entire river from Trout Creek to here. They kept asking what we
did at the rapids and wanted to know how long Michelle and I
had been paddling together. They mentioned that the last
group of canoers that they saw at the take out had dumped
numerous times, lost a boat, and had their legs all bruised and
cut by the time they reached the take out. We smiled and said
we had done a bit of canoeing before.
Michelle enjoys the fast pace that was easily attained on the
morning of our last day on the Deschutes.
morning of our last day on the Deschutes.
Magical morning light gave the steep canyon scenery an incredible look as we paddled along
quickly early on our final day.
quickly early on our final day.
Michelle smiles belies the fact the fact that we would soon be struggling into an
upcanyon headwind that would sometimes gust to well over 20 miles an hour.
upcanyon headwind that would sometimes gust to well over 20 miles an hour.
Brad standing with the canoe just after lining around the narrowest and heaviest part of Gordon Ridge Rapids.
Michelle is smiling at the bottom of Colorado Rapids. This easy class contained what may
have been the largest single wave of the trip, but we skirted it on river left.
have been the largest single wave of the trip, but we skirted it on river left.
A raft just avoids the big wave in Colorado Rapids. I loved paddling our canoe for the last
three days, but this wave would have been perfect for surfing in a kayak.
three days, but this wave would have been perfect for surfing in a kayak.
A motor boat throttles up to ascend Colorado Rapid. Seeing the boat labor through this
rapid made us realize while they have such a large outboard.
rapid made us realize while they have such a large outboard.