The Golden Snork
I set out on Sunday to search for gold with a couple of buddies. Truthfully, I was more excited to get into the water than to look for gold. But getting out on a beautiful day sounded like a great idea so I packed up everything I need for snorkeling in Alaska (minus the bulky fins) and waited for the guys to arrive at my place so I could drive us all out there.
We headed south toward the Kenai Peninsula. Apparently the gold there isn't overly abundant but it is some of the highest quality in the state. After a brief pit stop, we pushed through to our final destination.
Beforehand we had pulled off onto a side road in order to get all of our gear together so once we parked at our intended site, we could just make our way into the woods without people gawking and wondering what we were up to. While doing this, however, a family on bikes rode by and asked if we were kayakers. Nope. Their next guess was fishermen, even though it's a bit early for that, unless you're looking for hooligan, but we'd be in the wrong spot for that.
We finished gearing up and drove the extra couple of miles to where we'd duck into the woods. Brilliantly, I had brought 25 pounds of lead weights to help with my snorkeling. If I wanted to go down below my head, this weight would be vital. So I wore this weight around my waist. I was also wearing my dry suit opened at the waist, wearing only the suspenders so my upper body could breathe. This meant that my weights weighed down my suit lowering the crotch of the suit to about half way down my thigh. This then meant that I was walking much like a penguin. If it was just the occasional stick or log that I had to get over, I'd be fine with that, but unfortunately for me, the snow was about knee to mid-thigh deep and it was very soft snow as it was warm so I had to drag myself out of each footstep. Eventually, I just crawled.
We made our way down to the river and we started to survey. Dan was having a bit of success. I, however, did have a hood on, but the water was flowing from all this melting ice and was extremely cold. So my exposed cheeks and the top of my head which was getting pummeled from streaming river water couldn't take too much of constantly looking under water for gold flakes. I had my hand at a few rounds, but I needed to come out more often than Dan or Randy to warm up.
For a while I was watching a colony of spiders on a shale wall right next to the river. They were enjoying the sun as much as I was. I saw one of them attack a moth. Great. Then Randy pointed out there was a three-tiered waterfall just beyond the bend we were at. So I went there and poked around, going a bit behind the lowest fall and getting tossed around some. That enjoyment lasted for a bit and I went back to watching Dan and Randy look for gold. Dan was somewhat successful, Randy realized that the scope he had just made for this trip wasn't optimal. It was too long and slender. Dan's configuration was a bit better as the grip was lower and the current couldn't as easily push the scope around.
After exhausting our time at this portion of the river we went back to the bridge and went downstream on the other side. Here the water was more calm and there was actually some silty sedimentation. Just upstream from this calm bank was the canyon that the bridge was built over. On the side we were on was a small cove that I swam to. The water was about 8 feet deep. In order to get down there I released some of the air in my dry suit. I still had my weights on. I looked down there and nothing too exciting popped up -- sticks and rocks. Toward the center of the stream, however, was a giant car-sized boulder of quartz. I tried to grab on, but this is when I realized the there was somewhat of a current.
I went back to the cove and noticed that 20 yards, on the other side of the river was another cove that looked even more deep and interesting than the one I was currently in. So I went up the wall of the canyon as far as I could using it as best I could to keep from the current. From there, I shot myself into the middle of the river and got to the other side within an arm's length and missed grabbing the wall. I shook my fists in the air in frustration, but then I realized I was being pulled down the middle of the river. Fuck. Right about now is when I wished I had brought my fins. I was also now sad that I had burped my suit of air, and that I was indeed wearing 25 pounds of lead.
I realized there was no way I was going to get back to where Dan and Randy were searching for gold. All I could do was let the river take me where it wanted and then figure out what to do when the water got more calm. I had my snorkel in but after a few bumps in the white water the snorkel was filling and I no longer had the energy to expel the water, so the snorkel was spit out of my mouth.
I had a few good gulps of river water as I was bobbing around. I was able to look ahead to see some really big white water. I had my camera tethered around my right wrist. So I held that arm out and went to my side so my right hip was pointed downward to the bottom of the river. I see where the water gets to its worst, and all of a sudden things slowed down. I'm cresting on a huge, rounded boulder that's probably 5 feet across. The drop is at least 4 feet down. My body, maybe up to my chest gets projected forward over the rock before I go crashing down to the water below. Once my head hits the water I quickly crane it back up because I have no idea how shallow the water is there. Luckily, it was "deep enough", whatever that is, I'm just glad that it was. I did, however, hit the top of my right knee on that boulder. I have quite the bump now. I also have a charlie-horse in on the right side of my right calf that makes it a bit uncomfortable to walk.
But at least that's now the extent of my worries. The water calmed down a bit after that giant boulder but it was still flowing rather quickly. To my right a small rock outcropping projected into the river about 10 feet. I was exhausted mostly from being out of breath at this point. I don't even know if it was my doing, or if the current pushed me toward this outcrop. But I was heading straight for it.
Then the back current caught me just as I was almost within arm's reach of the rock. I was swirling around in what may have been a small whirlpool. I felt like I was going down a drain facing the rock at all times and not being able to do anything about it. I made just over a 180-degree cycle in this pool when at the very last bit of rock jutting out on the upstream side of the river, I remember thinking that it was either going to be this, or I would potentially have to once again go through what I just did. So I got my gloved hands on the rocks. I slid for a bit but was eventually able to get a grip and hold on.
Somehow I was able to pull myself up onto this platform that was no wider than 6'x6'. It felt like those movies when you feel that the person wouldn't really be able to do that. My triceps are telling me now that I shouldn't have been able to do that. So really, I have no idea how I got out, but I did. My next thought was about Dan and Randy and to let them know that I was OK. They saw the rapids and I know Dan was probably freaking out as he had gone through a similarly devastating river incident just the past summer. It took me about a minute, first I let out the largest and deepest burp I ever had, then I was able to yell back telling them I was OK. Dan shortly appeared around the corner, but we were now standing on opposite sides of the river.
Now those two knew I was fine. I signaled to Dan that I was going to make the couple-hundred-yard walk back to the bridge to meet up with them. Then I look to my left. There's like a 30-foot precipice that I had to scale. Looking around, there was no way around it unless I wanted to get back into the water. I was too exhausted to even get at my camera so I have no documentation of this. I couldn't do anything but set up the cliff.
Luckily there was a bit of a crevice so I wedged myself in that and wrestled my way up to the top. I get up there and I look down. I have to go down as far as I had just climbed and back up again. There looked to have been another sluiceway at the bottom. Before the getting down there, however, there was a bank of snow that I was dreading. This was that same leg-deep snow I had faced before. I got to it and immediately sank. I couldn't go the 50 feet struggling with one leg after the other so I just rolled over the snow down to the swampy sluiceway. Here was easy walking in ankle-deep water. This water was stagnant and I could smell methane with every step. Some mosquitoes started showing up. Luckily only my face was exposed.
I struggled back up the other side of the valley and weaved my way back to the bridge. I crossed it and stood there for a while as there was another plain of snow to traverse. To get back to Dan and Randy I had to duck back into the woods. I took a breather at the side of the trail when I saw a young guy and girl coming from the pull-out just above me. The guy is wearing vans, the girl is wearing flip-flops. They get to the snow which is visible from the road and she starts pulling up her jeans to not get them wet. Eventually I see him carrying her across the snow. How he did it, I don't know. I was struggling with 25 extra pounds. I'm not sure how he was doing it with 100. I didn't bother to watch anymore. I ditched my 25 pounds on the side of the trail and went down to tell Dan and Randy that I was OK then get my pack that was there and head back to the car.
It was a steep climb down to the river over thick deadfall, but I managed. I took a breather down there and talked to the two for a bit, telling them how that was the stupidest thing I had ever done and apologizing for making them worry. Making sure we were cool, I grabbed my back and climbed back up. Once back at the car it took me forever to get my suit off, my muscles were so exhausted.
We made the drive back to Anchorage. Dan and Randy stopped in for a bit to chat it up with Kim. They then left. This is when it hit me. I didn't have the energy for the internet or even feeding myself. I was physically exhausted but my mind wasn't. I just laid on the couch. I think Kim eventually turned on the TV so that made things a bit easier. After a couple of hours of vegging I was able to feed myself. As I had mentioned my knee got banged up and made walking a bit difficult. It's a little better the day after but a bump is rather noticeable.
This incident really made me consider my actions. I'm now realizing I made the same mistake out at Adak. Out there it wasn't much of an issue other than the people on shore not knowing the game-plan once I got to my destination. So it seems the latter half of my adventures are less thought out. However, when I was crossing the Teklanika I had a thought-out plan of what would happen if I lost my footing. But thinking about it now, that's really just the initial part of the plan. Coming back I hadn't considered at all, although in this case I had felt out the river and at that point knew the more shallow areas and how to keep my balance with the rushing waist-high water.
So I guess what this has taught me was that I have to think things through from start to finish. But that's never really how I have worked. I float through life without knowing what's next. I thought it would be great to get into archaeology after taking all sorts of science classes and realizing that anthropology incorporates most of the sciences that I love. Next I got into grad school but I never really had an ultimate goal of what I would do when I finished. "Luckily" for me, this has drawn out for 4 years so I haven't had to figure that out. Now I'm getting drug (I saw drug, but it's 100% willing) to the east coast to potentially get myself into a PhD program. What am I going to do with a PhD? Who knows. Maybe I'll fall into some job. However, my recent brush with death (yeah, it went through my head) might be trying to tell me that I need to figure things out before I just jump into them. This doesn't mean don't go to North Carolina. Maybe it's just a slap in the face to prompt me to get my shit together.
Wishful thinking. (We'll see....)
We headed south toward the Kenai Peninsula. Apparently the gold there isn't overly abundant but it is some of the highest quality in the state. After a brief pit stop, we pushed through to our final destination.
Beforehand we had pulled off onto a side road in order to get all of our gear together so once we parked at our intended site, we could just make our way into the woods without people gawking and wondering what we were up to. While doing this, however, a family on bikes rode by and asked if we were kayakers. Nope. Their next guess was fishermen, even though it's a bit early for that, unless you're looking for hooligan, but we'd be in the wrong spot for that.
We finished gearing up and drove the extra couple of miles to where we'd duck into the woods. Brilliantly, I had brought 25 pounds of lead weights to help with my snorkeling. If I wanted to go down below my head, this weight would be vital. So I wore this weight around my waist. I was also wearing my dry suit opened at the waist, wearing only the suspenders so my upper body could breathe. This meant that my weights weighed down my suit lowering the crotch of the suit to about half way down my thigh. This then meant that I was walking much like a penguin. If it was just the occasional stick or log that I had to get over, I'd be fine with that, but unfortunately for me, the snow was about knee to mid-thigh deep and it was very soft snow as it was warm so I had to drag myself out of each footstep. Eventually, I just crawled.
We made our way down to the river and we started to survey. Dan was having a bit of success. I, however, did have a hood on, but the water was flowing from all this melting ice and was extremely cold. So my exposed cheeks and the top of my head which was getting pummeled from streaming river water couldn't take too much of constantly looking under water for gold flakes. I had my hand at a few rounds, but I needed to come out more often than Dan or Randy to warm up.
For a while I was watching a colony of spiders on a shale wall right next to the river. They were enjoying the sun as much as I was. I saw one of them attack a moth. Great. Then Randy pointed out there was a three-tiered waterfall just beyond the bend we were at. So I went there and poked around, going a bit behind the lowest fall and getting tossed around some. That enjoyment lasted for a bit and I went back to watching Dan and Randy look for gold. Dan was somewhat successful, Randy realized that the scope he had just made for this trip wasn't optimal. It was too long and slender. Dan's configuration was a bit better as the grip was lower and the current couldn't as easily push the scope around.
After exhausting our time at this portion of the river we went back to the bridge and went downstream on the other side. Here the water was more calm and there was actually some silty sedimentation. Just upstream from this calm bank was the canyon that the bridge was built over. On the side we were on was a small cove that I swam to. The water was about 8 feet deep. In order to get down there I released some of the air in my dry suit. I still had my weights on. I looked down there and nothing too exciting popped up -- sticks and rocks. Toward the center of the stream, however, was a giant car-sized boulder of quartz. I tried to grab on, but this is when I realized the there was somewhat of a current.
I went back to the cove and noticed that 20 yards, on the other side of the river was another cove that looked even more deep and interesting than the one I was currently in. So I went up the wall of the canyon as far as I could using it as best I could to keep from the current. From there, I shot myself into the middle of the river and got to the other side within an arm's length and missed grabbing the wall. I shook my fists in the air in frustration, but then I realized I was being pulled down the middle of the river. Fuck. Right about now is when I wished I had brought my fins. I was also now sad that I had burped my suit of air, and that I was indeed wearing 25 pounds of lead.
I realized there was no way I was going to get back to where Dan and Randy were searching for gold. All I could do was let the river take me where it wanted and then figure out what to do when the water got more calm. I had my snorkel in but after a few bumps in the white water the snorkel was filling and I no longer had the energy to expel the water, so the snorkel was spit out of my mouth.
I had a few good gulps of river water as I was bobbing around. I was able to look ahead to see some really big white water. I had my camera tethered around my right wrist. So I held that arm out and went to my side so my right hip was pointed downward to the bottom of the river. I see where the water gets to its worst, and all of a sudden things slowed down. I'm cresting on a huge, rounded boulder that's probably 5 feet across. The drop is at least 4 feet down. My body, maybe up to my chest gets projected forward over the rock before I go crashing down to the water below. Once my head hits the water I quickly crane it back up because I have no idea how shallow the water is there. Luckily, it was "deep enough", whatever that is, I'm just glad that it was. I did, however, hit the top of my right knee on that boulder. I have quite the bump now. I also have a charlie-horse in on the right side of my right calf that makes it a bit uncomfortable to walk.
But at least that's now the extent of my worries. The water calmed down a bit after that giant boulder but it was still flowing rather quickly. To my right a small rock outcropping projected into the river about 10 feet. I was exhausted mostly from being out of breath at this point. I don't even know if it was my doing, or if the current pushed me toward this outcrop. But I was heading straight for it.
Then the back current caught me just as I was almost within arm's reach of the rock. I was swirling around in what may have been a small whirlpool. I felt like I was going down a drain facing the rock at all times and not being able to do anything about it. I made just over a 180-degree cycle in this pool when at the very last bit of rock jutting out on the upstream side of the river, I remember thinking that it was either going to be this, or I would potentially have to once again go through what I just did. So I got my gloved hands on the rocks. I slid for a bit but was eventually able to get a grip and hold on.
Somehow I was able to pull myself up onto this platform that was no wider than 6'x6'. It felt like those movies when you feel that the person wouldn't really be able to do that. My triceps are telling me now that I shouldn't have been able to do that. So really, I have no idea how I got out, but I did. My next thought was about Dan and Randy and to let them know that I was OK. They saw the rapids and I know Dan was probably freaking out as he had gone through a similarly devastating river incident just the past summer. It took me about a minute, first I let out the largest and deepest burp I ever had, then I was able to yell back telling them I was OK. Dan shortly appeared around the corner, but we were now standing on opposite sides of the river.
Now those two knew I was fine. I signaled to Dan that I was going to make the couple-hundred-yard walk back to the bridge to meet up with them. Then I look to my left. There's like a 30-foot precipice that I had to scale. Looking around, there was no way around it unless I wanted to get back into the water. I was too exhausted to even get at my camera so I have no documentation of this. I couldn't do anything but set up the cliff.
Luckily there was a bit of a crevice so I wedged myself in that and wrestled my way up to the top. I get up there and I look down. I have to go down as far as I had just climbed and back up again. There looked to have been another sluiceway at the bottom. Before the getting down there, however, there was a bank of snow that I was dreading. This was that same leg-deep snow I had faced before. I got to it and immediately sank. I couldn't go the 50 feet struggling with one leg after the other so I just rolled over the snow down to the swampy sluiceway. Here was easy walking in ankle-deep water. This water was stagnant and I could smell methane with every step. Some mosquitoes started showing up. Luckily only my face was exposed.
I struggled back up the other side of the valley and weaved my way back to the bridge. I crossed it and stood there for a while as there was another plain of snow to traverse. To get back to Dan and Randy I had to duck back into the woods. I took a breather at the side of the trail when I saw a young guy and girl coming from the pull-out just above me. The guy is wearing vans, the girl is wearing flip-flops. They get to the snow which is visible from the road and she starts pulling up her jeans to not get them wet. Eventually I see him carrying her across the snow. How he did it, I don't know. I was struggling with 25 extra pounds. I'm not sure how he was doing it with 100. I didn't bother to watch anymore. I ditched my 25 pounds on the side of the trail and went down to tell Dan and Randy that I was OK then get my pack that was there and head back to the car.
It was a steep climb down to the river over thick deadfall, but I managed. I took a breather down there and talked to the two for a bit, telling them how that was the stupidest thing I had ever done and apologizing for making them worry. Making sure we were cool, I grabbed my back and climbed back up. Once back at the car it took me forever to get my suit off, my muscles were so exhausted.
We made the drive back to Anchorage. Dan and Randy stopped in for a bit to chat it up with Kim. They then left. This is when it hit me. I didn't have the energy for the internet or even feeding myself. I was physically exhausted but my mind wasn't. I just laid on the couch. I think Kim eventually turned on the TV so that made things a bit easier. After a couple of hours of vegging I was able to feed myself. As I had mentioned my knee got banged up and made walking a bit difficult. It's a little better the day after but a bump is rather noticeable.
This incident really made me consider my actions. I'm now realizing I made the same mistake out at Adak. Out there it wasn't much of an issue other than the people on shore not knowing the game-plan once I got to my destination. So it seems the latter half of my adventures are less thought out. However, when I was crossing the Teklanika I had a thought-out plan of what would happen if I lost my footing. But thinking about it now, that's really just the initial part of the plan. Coming back I hadn't considered at all, although in this case I had felt out the river and at that point knew the more shallow areas and how to keep my balance with the rushing waist-high water.
So I guess what this has taught me was that I have to think things through from start to finish. But that's never really how I have worked. I float through life without knowing what's next. I thought it would be great to get into archaeology after taking all sorts of science classes and realizing that anthropology incorporates most of the sciences that I love. Next I got into grad school but I never really had an ultimate goal of what I would do when I finished. "Luckily" for me, this has drawn out for 4 years so I haven't had to figure that out. Now I'm getting drug (I saw drug, but it's 100% willing) to the east coast to potentially get myself into a PhD program. What am I going to do with a PhD? Who knows. Maybe I'll fall into some job. However, my recent brush with death (yeah, it went through my head) might be trying to tell me that I need to figure things out before I just jump into them. This doesn't mean don't go to North Carolina. Maybe it's just a slap in the face to prompt me to get my shit together.
Wishful thinking. (We'll see....)
Labels: Alaska, gold, Kenai Peninsula, rapids, river, snork, swimming
