Day Three - Buckhollow to Bull
Run Canyon
Run Canyon
When I work up on the morning of the third day it was clear that the river had
indeed risen about three or four inches overnight. Luckily the beach our tent was
pitched on did not entirely collapse into the river while we were asleep. While
cooking breakfast we watched fish rise and jump in the eddy only a few feet in front
of us while the sun climbed above the canyon rim and quickly began to chase away
the chill of the night. We were on the water by 9:30 and quickly made our way into
one of the most scenic stretches of river encountered. Canyon walls rose higher
and within a mile the first rapid of the day was reached.
Just above Trestle Hole Rapids the train tracks crossed the river and passed
through a tunnel as the river split around an island with the best looking route
laying to the left. As we sped into the class II+ rapids a group of deer jumped from
the waters edge as our canoe rocketed towards them. Michelle and I ran a
conservative line, using backpaddling and taking waves at angles to keep water
out of the canoe. While any line through this drop would have been fine the
morning air was still cool enough to warrant avoiding the largest of the waves.
Below Trestle Hole Rapids the river passed a few gorgeous, but occupied, sandy
beach campsites and within another mile we were at the largest rapid we would
encounter in the next twenty miles.
Class III Wreck Rapids were named after a head on train collision that happened
here years ago. As we approached the drop looked formidable and we decided to
eddy out in a large cove above the rapid so we could look it over from shore. Here
the river cut its way through a ledge of sharp lava rock that ran at an angle to the
main flow. The vast majority of the flow ran over the ledge on river left where a
couple of big holes and powerful waves lurked. Luckily for us, an easy class II
sneak channel existed on river right. The line was a straight shot through a steep
indeed risen about three or four inches overnight. Luckily the beach our tent was
pitched on did not entirely collapse into the river while we were asleep. While
cooking breakfast we watched fish rise and jump in the eddy only a few feet in front
of us while the sun climbed above the canyon rim and quickly began to chase away
the chill of the night. We were on the water by 9:30 and quickly made our way into
one of the most scenic stretches of river encountered. Canyon walls rose higher
and within a mile the first rapid of the day was reached.
Just above Trestle Hole Rapids the train tracks crossed the river and passed
through a tunnel as the river split around an island with the best looking route
laying to the left. As we sped into the class II+ rapids a group of deer jumped from
the waters edge as our canoe rocketed towards them. Michelle and I ran a
conservative line, using backpaddling and taking waves at angles to keep water
out of the canoe. While any line through this drop would have been fine the
morning air was still cool enough to warrant avoiding the largest of the waves.
Below Trestle Hole Rapids the river passed a few gorgeous, but occupied, sandy
beach campsites and within another mile we were at the largest rapid we would
encounter in the next twenty miles.
Class III Wreck Rapids were named after a head on train collision that happened
here years ago. As we approached the drop looked formidable and we decided to
eddy out in a large cove above the rapid so we could look it over from shore. Here
the river cut its way through a ledge of sharp lava rock that ran at an angle to the
main flow. The vast majority of the flow ran over the ledge on river left where a
couple of big holes and powerful waves lurked. Luckily for us, an easy class II
sneak channel existed on river right. The line was a straight shot through a steep
chute that ended with only moderate sized wave. Although a
portage would have been incredible easy, we decided to
paddle through the chute, and ended up taking in only a few
splashes of water during the run. Michelle was happy to have
avoided an early morning drenching. Even if we had
completely soaked ourselves it would have mattered little as
the day heated up under the strong desert sun incredible fast
and sent us to shore to strip off layers of clothes.
Below Wreck Rapids the Deschutes ran fast and free of any
major rapids for just about twenty miles. In many places small
and exciting rapids for the canoe were encountered and
although no major drops appeared it was necessary to pay
attention in order to avoid the main flow around many of the
turns. There were many occasions were drifting the main
channel in our canoe could have resulted in swamping despite
the fact that we were not even in real rapids. The rule of the
day was to trend to the inside of turns while looking to avoid
string and swirling eddies and wave trains. Inexperienced
paddlers could find even this mellow section of river tricky in a
few spots and being able to read water well was a huge plus.
As the morning progressed the canyon scenery became more
and more impressive as the Deschutes cut its canyon deeper
into the surrounding plateau. The outside of many of the
lower river's broad sweeping turns were nearly vertical canyon
walls with bands of different rock and amazing patterns carved
into them. The landscape became visibly drier as we entered
the strongest area of Mt Hood's rainshadow and the only
green vegetation was restricted to a narrow band hugging the
river banks. Although a gravel access road followed river right
for much of this stretch it was incredibly well hidden and lightly
traveled.
The river left train tracks were pretty much always visible, but
they did little to detract from scenery of such magnitude. The
train tracks also give the lower canyons of the Deschutes
River one of its most interesting pieces of human history.
When construction of rail lines began in the area early in the
1900's two rival railroads competed with each other to be the
first to push a line through the canyons of the Deschutes
towards Bend and the rich timber and agricultural lands found
farther upstream. Workers from the rival companies feuded
constantly during construction and tales abound of shootouts,
blowing up powder stores to slow blasting, and placing bags of
rattlesnakes in the camps of rival rail crews. In some of the
more precipitous sections of the canyon rival crews would set
off intentional rockslides during the night to block rail already
laid and slow progress.
portage would have been incredible easy, we decided to
paddle through the chute, and ended up taking in only a few
splashes of water during the run. Michelle was happy to have
avoided an early morning drenching. Even if we had
completely soaked ourselves it would have mattered little as
the day heated up under the strong desert sun incredible fast
and sent us to shore to strip off layers of clothes.
Below Wreck Rapids the Deschutes ran fast and free of any
major rapids for just about twenty miles. In many places small
and exciting rapids for the canoe were encountered and
although no major drops appeared it was necessary to pay
attention in order to avoid the main flow around many of the
turns. There were many occasions were drifting the main
channel in our canoe could have resulted in swamping despite
the fact that we were not even in real rapids. The rule of the
day was to trend to the inside of turns while looking to avoid
string and swirling eddies and wave trains. Inexperienced
paddlers could find even this mellow section of river tricky in a
few spots and being able to read water well was a huge plus.
As the morning progressed the canyon scenery became more
and more impressive as the Deschutes cut its canyon deeper
into the surrounding plateau. The outside of many of the
lower river's broad sweeping turns were nearly vertical canyon
walls with bands of different rock and amazing patterns carved
into them. The landscape became visibly drier as we entered
the strongest area of Mt Hood's rainshadow and the only
green vegetation was restricted to a narrow band hugging the
river banks. Although a gravel access road followed river right
for much of this stretch it was incredibly well hidden and lightly
traveled.
The river left train tracks were pretty much always visible, but
they did little to detract from scenery of such magnitude. The
train tracks also give the lower canyons of the Deschutes
River one of its most interesting pieces of human history.
When construction of rail lines began in the area early in the
1900's two rival railroads competed with each other to be the
first to push a line through the canyons of the Deschutes
towards Bend and the rich timber and agricultural lands found
farther upstream. Workers from the rival companies feuded
constantly during construction and tales abound of shootouts,
blowing up powder stores to slow blasting, and placing bags of
rattlesnakes in the camps of rival rail crews. In some of the
more precipitous sections of the canyon rival crews would set
off intentional rockslides during the night to block rail already
laid and slow progress.
Eventually the feuding companies were forced to share track through the
narrowest sections of the canyon and eventually the rail line set on the eastern
side of the river was abandoned and both companies utilized the better
constructed west bank line. Now, nearly one hundred years later, the canyon
silence in this stretch is broken only by a few trains each day. Although we saw
many fishermen and other river users along this section everyone was
tremendously courteous.
A very quick twelve miles was knocked off by 12:30 and we pulled over where
Rattlesnake Canyon entered the Deschutes from east. A leisurely lunch was
enjoyed under some big canyon scenery and a strong and hot sun. By the time
we were paddling again temperatures were well in the eighties, but a light breeze
kept temperatures manageable.
Four fast miles later the canyon walls moved back as we came to a long straight
section of river. The current here remained strong and we paddled along
uninterrupted through what ended up being the hottest part of the day. A few
bands of darker looking storm clouds materialized on the horizon around 1:30,
but they quickly dissipated in the dry desert air. Before we knew it we had
reached Mack's Canyon.
At Mack's Canyon the access road on river right dead ends and leaves the last
24 miles of the Deschutes River accessible only to people running the river or
those willing to hike or mountain bike the old railroad grade that continues along
on the east bank. This popular site now serves as a takeout for people just
running the twenty miles of the river from Buckhollow or as a put in for people
running the last 24 miles of the river. Many people put in here for a leisurely two
plus day float to the take out at the Columbia River. Since we were not spending
any time fishing it would be easy for us to cover the remaining distance be
Sunday afternoon. Mack's Canyon is also a site of archaeological significance.
An ancient native village of half subterranean homes was found here and
evidence exists that suggests the site had been inhabited continuously for over
two thousand years. I let my mind wander and tried to imagine what it would be
narrowest sections of the canyon and eventually the rail line set on the eastern
side of the river was abandoned and both companies utilized the better
constructed west bank line. Now, nearly one hundred years later, the canyon
silence in this stretch is broken only by a few trains each day. Although we saw
many fishermen and other river users along this section everyone was
tremendously courteous.
A very quick twelve miles was knocked off by 12:30 and we pulled over where
Rattlesnake Canyon entered the Deschutes from east. A leisurely lunch was
enjoyed under some big canyon scenery and a strong and hot sun. By the time
we were paddling again temperatures were well in the eighties, but a light breeze
kept temperatures manageable.
Four fast miles later the canyon walls moved back as we came to a long straight
section of river. The current here remained strong and we paddled along
uninterrupted through what ended up being the hottest part of the day. A few
bands of darker looking storm clouds materialized on the horizon around 1:30,
but they quickly dissipated in the dry desert air. Before we knew it we had
reached Mack's Canyon.
At Mack's Canyon the access road on river right dead ends and leaves the last
24 miles of the Deschutes River accessible only to people running the river or
those willing to hike or mountain bike the old railroad grade that continues along
on the east bank. This popular site now serves as a takeout for people just
running the twenty miles of the river from Buckhollow or as a put in for people
running the last 24 miles of the river. Many people put in here for a leisurely two
plus day float to the take out at the Columbia River. Since we were not spending
any time fishing it would be easy for us to cover the remaining distance be
Sunday afternoon. Mack's Canyon is also a site of archaeological significance.
An ancient native village of half subterranean homes was found here and
evidence exists that suggests the site had been inhabited continuously for over
two thousand years. I let my mind wander and tried to imagine what it would be
like to have my existence limited to the canyon of the
Deschutes River. Would the natives have traveled abroad and
seen the rain forests less than a hundred miles to the west or
would their world have been limited to the dry browns and
blacks of the Deschutes?
While pondering these questions I was happy to find I had lost
myself in the river's incredible scenery. While only a short four
day trip, we had been out long enough to forget about the
worries of everyday life and immerse ourselves in the trip. I
was snapped back to reality by the first bigger rapid we had
come across since well before lunch. The river braided out
and ran through many low gravel islands, and we just about
managed to paddle into a channel deep enough for our canoe.
At the bottom of this long class II we also saw the first power
boat of the trip tied off to the bank and accompanied by a few
fishermen. While no roads follow the last section of the
Deschutes, the river is open to motor boats from Mack's
Canyon down to the confluence with the Columbia River.
Between May 1st and Oct 1st motorized craft are restricted
using the Deschutes every other weekend. Our trip fell on a
weekend open to motors and we would have to be aware of
upstream traffic from here on out. Luckily, we tended to be
looking for the shallowest lines through rapids while any
powerboats would be seeking the deepest water when
motoring upstream.
Deschutes River. Would the natives have traveled abroad and
seen the rain forests less than a hundred miles to the west or
would their world have been limited to the dry browns and
blacks of the Deschutes?
While pondering these questions I was happy to find I had lost
myself in the river's incredible scenery. While only a short four
day trip, we had been out long enough to forget about the
worries of everyday life and immerse ourselves in the trip. I
was snapped back to reality by the first bigger rapid we had
come across since well before lunch. The river braided out
and ran through many low gravel islands, and we just about
managed to paddle into a channel deep enough for our canoe.
At the bottom of this long class II we also saw the first power
boat of the trip tied off to the bank and accompanied by a few
fishermen. While no roads follow the last section of the
Deschutes, the river is open to motor boats from Mack's
Canyon down to the confluence with the Columbia River.
Between May 1st and Oct 1st motorized craft are restricted
using the Deschutes every other weekend. Our trip fell on a
weekend open to motors and we would have to be aware of
upstream traffic from here on out. Luckily, we tended to be
looking for the shallowest lines through rapids while any
powerboats would be seeking the deepest water when
motoring upstream.
Also limiting our interaction with motorboats was the fact that most people motored
around in the morning and evening but fished all day when we were paddling.
The fact that the fall runs of Steelhead and Salmon were on meant that there
would be plenty of company on this last stretch of river.
Our first encounter with boat came at Island Rapids, a long class II+. On seeing
the boat coming upstream we eddied out behind an island to yield the channel.
The driver of the fishing boat slowed and waved to us, but when he powered up to
climb the strong rapid a heavy wake ended up partially swamping our canoe,
requiring us to dump out water before continuing. Getting wet was no big deal
with the extremely dry air, warm temperatures, and growing headwind. We soon
dried.
Michelle and I decided to paddle for no more than another hour, and hoped to find
an empty campsite somewhere that would leave us with 18 miles to paddle on
Sunday. Campsite after campsite was filled by powerboaters, but we lucked out
and spotted an open site in a grove of trees on river left. After some deliberation
about whether or not to continue on or camp here, we decided to check out the
site more thoroughly. A shallow gravel island blocked the site and essentially
made it inaccessible to motor boats. The level site was picture perfect with
dramatic canyon cliffs upstream and downstream, shade trees with hooks for
drying gear, privacy, and an incredible view of the river. We had found home for
the evening.
The tent was quickly set up to air out and all of our wet gear from the day was
strewn about in the now strong upstream wind of the afternoon. It was only 3:30
and we enjoyed relaxing and lounging around our little piece of heaven for the
hour or so of sunlight that remained before it dipped behind the canyon walls.
While sitting in our camp chairs we listened to the rustling bunch grasses and the
splashing of the fast water. Just downstream of our camp class II+ Bull Run
Rapids could be seen starting in a long turn to the right. We cleaned up and had
one of the most peaceful afternoons of our whole summer.
The lower river had been so fast we were able to cover 26 miles between 9:30 and
3:30 with just over five of those hours spent in the canoe paddling. Michelle and I
were happy with the day's work and happy to be in camp instead of fighting the
strong afternoon upstream winds that were now ripping up the Deschutes. The
Columbia River Gorge, only 18 miles away, is known for its strong winds. It is no
surprise that the winds of the Columbia Gorge that produce worldclass windsurfing
conditions extend right on up the Descutes River Canyon. While sitting around in
the strong winds at camp we decided to get an early start tomorrow in order to
avoid a full day of fighting the wind.
For dinner we had our macaroni and cheese. I ended up propping the canoe on
edge with paddles to serve as a windbreak for our stove and we enjoyed a few
cups of tea and plenty of snacking on leftover lunch food while dinner was
prepared. As the evening progressed a bunch of motorboats ended up cruising
past our camp in search of fish or on their way back to their camp at the end of
the day. Michelle had grown up around boats, but seeing one motoring up a river
with rapids and everything was an entirely new experience. Again, I was surprised
at how unobtrusive the powerboats were and how remote these lower canyons felt
despite the relatively high number of users.
By six thirty the sun had been down for a while and the heating of the day had
stopped. Now the air in the canyon became unsettled and strange shifting breeze
blew through camp, some heading upstream, some down with equal velocity.
Basically the upcanyon winds are created by heated air funneling up the canyon
as it rises. Conversely, as the air cools at night it sinks and flushes out of the
canyon. At some point during the night this process stop as the temperature
equilibrates, and most morning are perfectly calm until the process starts all over
again between 11:00 and 12:00. We hoped to get on the river before 8:00 on our
last day to avoid the strong upcanyon winds and lots of powerboats returning to
the take out at the end of the day.
By 8:00 that evening darkness had fallen and stars were already filling the dark
desert sky. We headed into the tent and discussed the four large class III rapids
that lay between us and the take out at Heritage Landing on the Columbia River.
around in the morning and evening but fished all day when we were paddling.
The fact that the fall runs of Steelhead and Salmon were on meant that there
would be plenty of company on this last stretch of river.
Our first encounter with boat came at Island Rapids, a long class II+. On seeing
the boat coming upstream we eddied out behind an island to yield the channel.
The driver of the fishing boat slowed and waved to us, but when he powered up to
climb the strong rapid a heavy wake ended up partially swamping our canoe,
requiring us to dump out water before continuing. Getting wet was no big deal
with the extremely dry air, warm temperatures, and growing headwind. We soon
dried.
Michelle and I decided to paddle for no more than another hour, and hoped to find
an empty campsite somewhere that would leave us with 18 miles to paddle on
Sunday. Campsite after campsite was filled by powerboaters, but we lucked out
and spotted an open site in a grove of trees on river left. After some deliberation
about whether or not to continue on or camp here, we decided to check out the
site more thoroughly. A shallow gravel island blocked the site and essentially
made it inaccessible to motor boats. The level site was picture perfect with
dramatic canyon cliffs upstream and downstream, shade trees with hooks for
drying gear, privacy, and an incredible view of the river. We had found home for
the evening.
The tent was quickly set up to air out and all of our wet gear from the day was
strewn about in the now strong upstream wind of the afternoon. It was only 3:30
and we enjoyed relaxing and lounging around our little piece of heaven for the
hour or so of sunlight that remained before it dipped behind the canyon walls.
While sitting in our camp chairs we listened to the rustling bunch grasses and the
splashing of the fast water. Just downstream of our camp class II+ Bull Run
Rapids could be seen starting in a long turn to the right. We cleaned up and had
one of the most peaceful afternoons of our whole summer.
The lower river had been so fast we were able to cover 26 miles between 9:30 and
3:30 with just over five of those hours spent in the canoe paddling. Michelle and I
were happy with the day's work and happy to be in camp instead of fighting the
strong afternoon upstream winds that were now ripping up the Deschutes. The
Columbia River Gorge, only 18 miles away, is known for its strong winds. It is no
surprise that the winds of the Columbia Gorge that produce worldclass windsurfing
conditions extend right on up the Descutes River Canyon. While sitting around in
the strong winds at camp we decided to get an early start tomorrow in order to
avoid a full day of fighting the wind.
For dinner we had our macaroni and cheese. I ended up propping the canoe on
edge with paddles to serve as a windbreak for our stove and we enjoyed a few
cups of tea and plenty of snacking on leftover lunch food while dinner was
prepared. As the evening progressed a bunch of motorboats ended up cruising
past our camp in search of fish or on their way back to their camp at the end of
the day. Michelle had grown up around boats, but seeing one motoring up a river
with rapids and everything was an entirely new experience. Again, I was surprised
at how unobtrusive the powerboats were and how remote these lower canyons felt
despite the relatively high number of users.
By six thirty the sun had been down for a while and the heating of the day had
stopped. Now the air in the canyon became unsettled and strange shifting breeze
blew through camp, some heading upstream, some down with equal velocity.
Basically the upcanyon winds are created by heated air funneling up the canyon
as it rises. Conversely, as the air cools at night it sinks and flushes out of the
canyon. At some point during the night this process stop as the temperature
equilibrates, and most morning are perfectly calm until the process starts all over
again between 11:00 and 12:00. We hoped to get on the river before 8:00 on our
last day to avoid the strong upcanyon winds and lots of powerboats returning to
the take out at the end of the day.
By 8:00 that evening darkness had fallen and stars were already filling the dark
desert sky. We headed into the tent and discussed the four large class III rapids
that lay between us and the take out at Heritage Landing on the Columbia River.
The BLM river guide I had printed out on line talked of these
rapids with a very serious tone, warning of narrow channels,
swirling currents, and big holes. I knew better than to worry
about rapids before getting to them when on a long trip, but the
last thing we wanted on the last day was to dump or wreck our
canoe. Luckily, the nature of the river had been such that any
rapid should be able to be snuck, lined, or portaged pretty
easily. We fell asleep to the rustling of the shoreline vegetation
in the breeze, the gurgling of the river, and to images of a
some big rapids laying ahead tomorrow. We had already been
out long enough to have regained confidence our canoing
skills and we eagerly waited for the challenges that our final
day on the river would bring.
After reading for an hour or so we fell asleep quickly and were
only woken once during the night by a train passing not far
above our camp on the narrow tracks clinging precariously to
the steep canyon walls. The temperature dropped off nicely
and made for absolutely perfect sleeping conditions. All in all,
today was probably the most relaxing day of trip. We worked
well together covered lots of ground, and saw some impressive
and unique river scenery.
rapids with a very serious tone, warning of narrow channels,
swirling currents, and big holes. I knew better than to worry
about rapids before getting to them when on a long trip, but the
last thing we wanted on the last day was to dump or wreck our
canoe. Luckily, the nature of the river had been such that any
rapid should be able to be snuck, lined, or portaged pretty
easily. We fell asleep to the rustling of the shoreline vegetation
in the breeze, the gurgling of the river, and to images of a
some big rapids laying ahead tomorrow. We had already been
out long enough to have regained confidence our canoing
skills and we eagerly waited for the challenges that our final
day on the river would bring.
After reading for an hour or so we fell asleep quickly and were
only woken once during the night by a train passing not far
above our camp on the narrow tracks clinging precariously to
the steep canyon walls. The temperature dropped off nicely
and made for absolutely perfect sleeping conditions. All in all,
today was probably the most relaxing day of trip. We worked
well together covered lots of ground, and saw some impressive
and unique river scenery.
Much of the day's paddling consisted of running long stretches of fun
swifts through spectacular canyon scenery like that shown above.
swifts through spectacular canyon scenery like that shown above.
Class III Wreck Rapids had a simple sneak line on river right that avoided the large diagonal
hole in the main flow seen in this picture.
hole in the main flow seen in this picture.
The farther we paddled down the Deschutes, the canyons became deeper and increasingly
rugged. Here Michelle enjoys a typical view while moving along at a nice pace.
rugged. Here Michelle enjoys a typical view while moving along at a nice pace.
Here I am steering from the stern seat of the canoe as we float through
yet another incredible canyon bend on the lower Deschutes River.
yet another incredible canyon bend on the lower Deschutes River.
The afternoon of the third day became quite warm and we enjoyed floating through some big
scenery after our lunch break.
scenery after our lunch break.
Here is the view looking upstream for the spectacular campsite we
found unoccupied at the end of our third day of paddling.
found unoccupied at the end of our third day of paddling.
As if not to be outdone, the view looking downstream from day three's
campsite is perhaps even more impressive.
campsite is perhaps even more impressive.
Afternoon winds racing up the lower canyons of the Deschutes forced me to prop up our canoe
as a windbreak while cooking dinner.
as a windbreak while cooking dinner.