On an MEC supported expedition last August, MEC member Ben Marr attempted a descent of the Grand Canyon of the Stikine River, along with fellow paddlers Mikkel St.Jean-Duncan, Evan Garcia, Fred Norquist, Eric Parker, Erik Johnson, and Ryan Lucas.
When I was 9 or 10 years old, my dad brought home a special VHS tape a friend from work had given him. It was a National Geographic documentary on the first raft descent (with three safety kayakers) of the Grand Canyon of the Stikine River.
Watching this documentary had an effect on me, as would many other kayaking videos in the years to come. I’d often wonder, “When will I be in that section of river, and what will it be like for me? How will it be different?” There’s never been a doubt in my mind that I’ll make it to all the places I’ve seen in photos and videos, just a curiosity of how and when.
Last summer, I flew from my home in Ottawa and headed to Calgary with no intentions of running the Stikine River – I didn’t even bring suitable gear for such an expedition. After a month of paddling around interior BC, though, the opportunity presented itself to me. A group of friends were making the Stikine trip, passing through Vancouver with room for me to join. I made a quick stop at MEC to to get the the -10°C sleeping bag, sleeping pad, down jacket and gear I needed to stay warm and fed over the 2 nights we would spend in the canyon.
For years, the Stikine has been heralded as one of the most difficult multi-day descents anywhere, and is certainly the most demanding river in BC. Its fable is well-known in whitewater circles and it holds a special place in the communities’ heart. The watershed drains approximately 52,000 sq. km and the river is 610km long, emptying into the Pacific Ocean in Alaska, 320km north of Terrace, BC. On its course to the ocean, the river enters the Grand Canyon of the Stikine – 75km of whitewater problem solving at its best. I can’t think of a more perfect arena for my favorite game: tall committing gorges, difficult high volume rapids, un-portage-able and un-scoutable canyons. You float in to long sections of big water, deciphering the puzzle as you go, in isolated, unspoiled scenery with the chance for remarkable wildlife encounters.
The first helicopter-supported attempt was in 1981 and was unsuccessful. The group ran a portion of the rapids, and returned 4 years later to complete the run (again with helicopter support). The first team to successfully complete a self-support expedition wasn’t until 1990. Over the years, more and more teams have taken on the challenge; typically a 3-day self-supported descent of the canyon in late summer/fall (when the water is low). Some teams came away triumphant and stoked on the experience they had in the endless, challenging rapids. Others came away with horror stories of near-death swims, horrendous hike-outs, fast rising water levels and freezing temperatures. This canyon has a reputation.
DAY 0
After the 24-hour, 1725km drive from Vancouver, we arrived at a large steel bridge at the put-in near Dease Lake. Seeing the river for the first time was incredible. It reminded me that even though I’d heard about this place from a young age, I really knew nothing about it. Catching sight of the yellow signs that warn the Canyon is unnavigable by all craft made me laugh with excitement. Every group that’s run the Stikine has a photo with one of these signs. I have to admit, taking a photo before we had even seen rapids felt like stealing the trophy before the game.
The crew
DAY 1
Setting off in warm sunshine, we carved in and out of eddies to get comfortable with the weight of gear in our boats. For 6km, the river carried us effortlessly downstream, and we committed to the flow as we glided past inhospitable, rugged wilderness. As the river picked up speed, eventually pinching between tall black rock walls, we entered the dark canyon and faced a blind horizon line.
We were lucky to have a couple of Stikine alumni in our group and didn’t stop to scout Entrance Falls. Instead, we followed Evan down the Stikine’s first challenge.
Stretching it out before dropping into Entrance Falls
Evan and Mikkel were the only 2 in our group of 7 who’d run the canyon before. They led us through some of the big challenges of day 1: Three Goats, Wicked Wanda, Pass/Fail, and Wasson’s Hole.
A high sign, a high five, a pass and a fail (red boat – me – is failing)
Only the most significant rapids on the Stikine have names, but there are many others in there, including one that briefly had my number. At the last minute, Evan changed his line from right to left. I followed, but clipped a hole and took a savage beating, rag dolling end-over-end until I flushed through. At one point, I took such a big hit that I thought someone had crashed into me (but the others had passed me while I was taking my beating).
The continuous nature of the river, incredible gorges, and pristine landscapes made the first day an amazing experience. I was so happy to be in there, but the place demands respect and forces you to keep your guard high. The canyon walls could lock you in completely, and a mistake in the whitewater could lead to a long (2-day plus) hike out, a wait for helicopter rescue, or flush drowning. The first day exposed me to everything in the Stikine’s character.
Evan Garcia, styling the move at Wasson’s Hole
A scary horizon line and a small clearing on river right marked Site Zed, and the end of day one. It used to be a home and base for workers employed to dam the river in the 1970s. Luckily, passionate locals were able to protect this river and its wilderness. We arrived at Site Zed in the afternoon, emptied our gear at camp and started to portage up and over large, dangerously loose rocks. The natural route brought us high above river level where we finally took in all of Site Zed. Its length, powerful features, isolation, and many hazards were all reason enough to continue walking. But… there was a runnable looking line in there, so I left my boat where it was and scrambled back to water level to scout.
That night, my boat was perched above, halfway through the portage. It was there alone – all my friends’ boats were already safe at the bottom of the portage, ready to head downstream tomorrow. I considered the line. If I fell off-course what was my Plan B? What was my Plan C? Was I comfortable with with my exposure? What was the worst scenario and how could I deal with it?
Mikkel, Eric, and Erik hanging out at Site Zed
DAY 2
I scouted for a couple hours in the morning, and spent a lot of time looking at the last major feature: an intimidating pulsing mass of water that would build and crash powerfully. Sometimes it would green out in the middle, creating a lucky window if the timing was right. I felt that this window also meant that even if the feature stopped me, I would flush through quickly. The key moves would be punching over the first three features and maintaining speed to the river right side, avoiding a double stage shallow drop into a nasty recirculating eddy on river left. If I could do this, I was sure I could square up to the bottom feature and punch through.
I felt confident about dropping into the rapid. But more importantly, I decided that if things did not go to plan, then I could handle the rapid without swimming. Of course there are no guarantees, so I focused on the positive and visualized the line going as planned… I also visualized the line not going as planned to prepare for any other scenarios.
We made a plan as a group, and set up safety in the few spots where help might be possible. I got all my gear and reloaded my boat, making sure the weight was more balanced than the day before to help keep my bow down during the rapid.
All my food in my lap getting ready to drop into Site Zed
I gave a “high sign” by holding my paddle straight up in the air to let the group know I was ready, and dropped in, charging hard from left to right – straight at the boulder that created the first big feature. Lifting my bow as high as I could, I threw myself forward, directing my weight to speed up and over the tall hole. I cleared the hole and held my right angle, charging over the second wave that was created off the backside of the same boulder. At the third crux, I crested the wave and held a long left stroke. My bow lifted out of the water and I held the stroke to keep my boat flat for the landing. As soon as my boat landed, I 180’ed, flipped, and then rolled back up as fast as I could. I quickly managed to get some momentum back toward the middle, surfing a surge back out into the centre, and was super stoked to be sailing past the nasty eddy I needed to avoid. As I was about to smash into the huge wave/hole, I tucked up and attempted to go underneath the monster, happy to have a boat heavy with expedition gear and food. I flipped, but I was through. The run out of the rapid was awesome – I paddled through the waves and caught an eddy on river left to wait for the boys.
After Site Zed, day two had a different feel than the day one rapids; there are a lot of tighter, more boiling features. For the most part, we would “read and run” these rapids, which meant floating in and scanning the horizon as it rushed toward us. Choosing our lines on the fly, we analyzed what we saw, what we couldn’t see, and what we thought that meant. Day two included the rapids “A.F.P.” (Always a @#*&! Problem), Wall 2 and Garden of the Gods. At Wall 2, we were completely locked in and committed, barely able to scout and unable to portage. The light was blasting straight at us, backlighting the rapid and making it hard to distinguish any features. We dropped in knowing that eventually everything flushes down the middle.
On the left is the nasty eddy that I wanted to avoid at all costs, downstream is the big wave/hole I had to punch
After that, the canyon settles down and opens into a large valley. The whole character changes and the river is full of giant light brown boulders; you can almost trace their path up the valley and see where they came from. This is called Garden of the Gods and it’s the last rapid before day 2 camp.
Some beautiful rock walls
DAY 3
On day 3, we had some of the more notorious rapids ahead – Wall 2, Scissors, Hole That Ate Chicago, V Drive – all in one section, back to back. Running Site Zed meant that if I ran all of these rapids successfully I would be the first person to run the Stikine without portaging. Though I hadn’t set out with this goal, I now wanted to accomplish it.
Wall 2 and Scissors went well. Only three of us ran Wall 2, but we all ran Scissors.
Next up was the Hole That Ate Chicago, which looked horrendous. Scouting on the right made it difficult to get back to a position to run it, so Evan and I ferried above the monster to look from the left. Evan felt it had changed from four years earlier, and the normal line did not look runnable. If we were going to run it, we’d have to run a technical line, sneaking the big hole but punching a steep reactionary. If we missed our line, we’d most likely be swimming into V Drive – a huge rapid in an impressive canyon. The rest of the group portaged on the right and set safety for me and Evan. We attained a couple eddies so we could come in with as much speed as possible, and we both had good lines and were stoked to have that one behind us.
V Drive is an incredible rapid, and to me it sums up what the Stikine is all about: giant pushy whitewater in a gnarly canyon. You launch off a huge wave, smash into a hole right behind it, and then continue through the canyon’s chaotic constriction. We were a zoo at the bottom of this steep big-water beast – everyone had a crazy experience through it.
After V drive, one of my favourite rapids was Garden of the Gods 2. It was so long. We scouted the whole thing safely from our boats and the lines were big but clear. Gradually, the rapid slows down and another canyon forms – the entrance to the Tanzilla slot. The Tanzilla River cascades a 20ft. waterfall and joins the Stikine as it forces itself through a 5ft. wide passage between the left and right banks.
Ryan Lucas from New Zealand takes flight off the massive ramping wave in V Drive
The Grand Canyon of the Stikine River is hands down the best river I’ve experienced. Its deep canyons and isolated BC landscapes are beautiful settings for a dangerous river. We paddled, drifted, chatted, and shared stoke through the remaining kilometres to the car, and all agreed it was one of the best trips of our lives. I’m so thankful for the crew we had, and the weather we were treated with. Without the boys and the golden sunshine I may not have been as keen to fire up Site Zed and have a no-portage descent. It was a trip of a lifetime and can’t wait to be back in that beautiful area on another adventure. Thanks to MEC for keeping me properly equipped!
The post The Grand Canyon of the Stikine River appeared first on MEC Blog.