90,000 CFS

The South Fork American at 72,000 CFS
By: John Volkman January 2, 1997
New years day
Some of my pals have an annual ‘first day of the year’ river trip that they call the Don Favor Memorial. They usually start out at Chile Bar and raft down to the top of the Triple Threat rapid and have a drink in his memory. Shawn called me a couple of days earlier and we agreed to join the group. After suffering through the morning with a Pisco Sour (a Chilean Margarita) hangover, we arrived a little late at Dick’s house. Meri and Glen hopped in my truck and we went to take a look at Troublemaker Rapid, just upstream from the town of Coloma. The river was impressive but runnable. We had rafted this section at this water level but never had we seen so much trees, wood and debris in the current. We were all astonished that the river had risen about 2 to 3 feet in the past hour as we passed through Coloma Park.

With such a late start, it was decided to put in on river right several miles below Coloma to run the 12 mile section down to Salmon Falls Bridge. The trip included One paddle boat guided by Ann, a fifteen year professional guide and a second paddleboat guided by Mike, a fifth year pro guide. The paddlers consisted of many second year river guides, a couple of veterans, and a couple of unseasoned guests. The third boat was my 16' Sotar raft with an oar frame mounted with 2 other veteran river guides, Glen and Meri, paddling. The fourth paddler in my boat was my brother in law Steve who has joined me on several trips in the recent past. Rumor said that the flow was about 15,000 to 20,000 CFS. About the same high spring run-off levels we have rafted during the past 2 seasons.

Although the river was swift the rapids were pretty flat since the high water covered them with about 10 to 15 feet of water. When we reached the first rapid at the entrance of the Gorge both Ann and Mike flipped in a huge hole at the top of Fowler's Rock Rapid. In our rescue mode Steve and I hopped on one of the upside down boats, flipped it over, and paddled downstream picking up several visibly shaken swimmers. Shawn doing the same, pulled over to river right to drop off several of the paddlers to make room for more. On a funny note Ann, trying to lighten the boat, was trying to get folks out onto shore. Not wanting to waste any time she turned to the lady with no river experience and yelled “GET OUT OF THE BOAT”. When the lady didn’t show any sign of moving quickly Ann, A firefighter and used to controlling a scene, grabbed the lady and chucked her out of the boat in about 2 feet deep water and immediately said in a pleasant voice “thank you.” They then immediately rowed back out and continued to retrieve the balance of the swimmers.

After retrieving all of the swimmers and eddying out on river right Mike hiked up the river bank to retrieve the people that Shawn had dropped off. There wasn’t much of a trail to hike on, just rocks and brush. When he finally did reach them the river had risen even higher, submerging the original trail. Now it was going to take them about an hour to hike back downstream. After that flip and a long swim, I felt the inexperienced folks shouldn’t continue so I hiked out to the road and got the shuttle vehicle back to pick them and the boat up. An hour later I returned with Sue; the truck; and Dick, a 20 year veteran of the American River. Dick told me the river was flowing at about 50,000 CFS and looking straight out at Satins Cesspool Rapid he said the river was flowing about 30 feet higher than normal summer flows. Now we were witnessing appliances, out houses, dredges, picnic tables, signs and entire 40 foot tall trees floating by.

The truck left and I hiked down stream to where the others were waiting for me to continue. Glen and Steve were the only ones holding the boats while the others were downstream scouting rapids. By the time all of the group returned it was nearing 3:30pm and we were anxious to get going before the river rose anymore. Glen, who was holding the boat, told me that a 16’ pine tree had entirely disappeared in front of him in the past one hour from rapidly rising river. They also told me about a boat eating hole just around the next corner but it could be avoided by pulling to the inside and going right of it. While they were scouting, a large floating gold dredge that had pulled loose from its mooring ran through the hole getting tossed like a toothpick in a tornado. A few minutes later 2 large propane bottles the size of small cars floated by along with the endless supply of logs and branches.

Most of the remaining paddlers, after staring at the rising river and debris stream, decided to hike out. It was just a shame that we had let the scuttle vehicle leave before the decision was made. Instead of having them hike out carrying the boat, I thought the additional weight of their boat. rolled up and tied into ours would help our chances of punching through a marginally runnable hole. It took about another twenty minutes to get the boat rolled up and tied in just in front of the rowing frame. Glen opted not to continue with us and there was a bit of discussion about who would ‘get’ to go. Mike and Ann both wanted to go but Since Meri had started out in the boat she had first tight of refusal. The final order was Shawn rowing with 11 years of guiding experience; myself with similar experience - paddling in the front left; Mike with 5 years guiding experience paddling in the right front; Meri with 10 years guiding experience paddling behind me; and Steve, who’s been through some guide training and several other river trips, filled out the last spot.

I figured it was running above 60,000 CFS by now. My belief was that the river would flatten out as it continued to rise. We knew about the hole around the corner and how to avoid it and figured that we would read and run our way to the takeout. Shawn and I took a moment for a reality check then announced that anyone that stepped foot in the boat was on their own from that moment on. With one last high five we pushed off into the current.

The current was raging as we moved slowly across the channel, narrowly missing the huge hole at the next bend. In catching the edge of the hole Shawn let out a holler as though he was enjoying the run. I felt differently. I was intent on cheating the entire run.
“Stay right and out of the main channel best you can” I yelled to Shawn.
“That’s not always possible since it forces you back out from the strong diagonals” Shawn shouted back.
We approached the drop and next set of waves as Meri shouted “lets scout from here before we run”
That would have turned out to be the right decision. As we crested the drop we realized that even though we were right of center there was a strong diagonal to the right of a large drop with a boat flipping wave at the bottom.

“Forward paddle” shouted Shawn as we attempted to break through the diagonal wave. Our boat hit the wave with the bow. Without any momentum the boat bounced back and careened down into the waves in an uncontrollable fashion. Shawn was shouting commands but the boat was being drawn downstream into a huge breaking wave. Where I sat in the left front was the first place to hit the wave and like a potato chip in the wind I was thrown back upstream taking Mike out and going underwater.

I surfaced with hopes that we were just knocked out of the boat and not flipped. But my first sight was the bottom of my boat with people bobbing around it. At first I was upstream of the boat with my attention focused on breathing between the breaking waves. Then a fairly long period of time underwater I popped up 50 yards downstream from the boat with one helmeted rafter standing atop the upside-down boat. He was helping someone climb up on top. I figured that anyone that quick had to be the 2 most experienced boaters, Shawn and Mike. My first instinct was to get to the boat and started swimming toward it. I knew I needed to be there but could see I was moving downstream faster. Next I saw Meri. I motioned to her and yelled for her to swim my way. I was still holding my paddle and instinctively grabbed another paddle that was floating by. I outstretched the paddles to Meri and pulled her in closer. Realizing we were still floating away from the boat I told Meri that we’ve got to get the hell out of the river. She had saucer eyes and was clearly jolted as I’ve seen swimmers a hundred times before. As we floated through he next wave train I became more aware how difficult it was to get good breaths with all the turbulence happening around us. I was extremely careful with every breath I took even waiting longer than I wanted to catch my next breath. The last thing I wanted was to catch a wave in the mouth and lose any of my ability to self rescue that I knew would be essential. Understanding that our only chance for self rescue was to keep getting good breaths I looked Meri in the eyes and told her “be sure of your breaths. Relax if you can but be sure you don’t catch a wave in the mouth.” She seemed to be listening to my voice but the look on her face stated that she was very scared.

I kept talking to her when I could, asking her if she was cold and if she was OK. I kept telling her to be sure of her breaths. I wanted her to be as ever aware as I was as to our only chance for survival. We stayed close for what seemed like a couple of more sets of rapids that contained sets of huge breaking waves. Still holding the other end of the paddle we looked at each other and she had water spouting out of both nostrils. That’s when I knew it would get more difficult for her. She had taken in water.
“Lets swim for the bank” I yelled as we both swam, arm over arm for the side. It was futile and we were sucked back in the current and into another set of breaking waves.
The next set of waves and I felt Meri’s hand on my shoulder and my head went under water unexpectedly. She was struggling for air and I was the buoy. At that point I knew if I was held under again I might not get that all important next breath so I released the paddle and kept a short distance from her. We continued to float close but next I noticed she was on a chunk of wood and floating pretty well. I found a chunk and did the same. It gave a bit of confidence but we were still flushing downstream at a rapid rate.
There seemed to be a long stretch of flatter water so I yelled to Mary “lets swim for the bank again”.

She heard me and we both released our logs and started swimming double time for the left bank. Within seconds I felt the strong draw of the current pulling us into the next set of large rapids. Swimming was futile. We couldn’t escape the magnetic draw of the current even though we were both swimming strong. Same program. Timing every wave, hoping and praying that I wouldn’t make that fatal flaw of catching a wave in the mouth causing me to caught and breath uncontrollably which would make you inhale more water.

After making it through that next set of rapids I lot sight of Mary. All I could think of now was saving myself and how my wife would feel if I ended up in a black body bag on in the coroners black Suburban. Over and over again, all I could think about was how hurt Sue is going to be just from me doing something as unnecessary as this. Self inflicted. So unnecessary. I put myself there. How could I do this to her. I remembered how distraught she was over losing each of our pet labs. How would she take this. It just isn’t fair. I must survive.

I started looking for an eddy to swim to and to my amazement and disbelief I was feeling some slack water and realized I was only 10 feet from a solid eddy. Hand over hand, again I swam for the eddy. Every stroke using all my senses feeling for that all important upstream current. Yes. I’m in the eddy but I’m not letting up until I’m on the river bank. Feeling the strong upstream current from the eddy I use the momentum to lurch for a rock on the side. The rock was solidly anchored and I had a good grip on it. I still won’t feel safe until I am totally away from this magnetic monster that’s been uncontrollably dragging my downstream. I stagger up the bank. My head feels like its going to pop and I feel dazed and confused. I’ve never had this feeling before. It must have been a huge overload that my mind had just dealt with. I was standing on the bank. My plan to not catch a throat full of water was a success. I had cheated death. I would be safe.

I began to look up and down stream looking for anybody or any thing that looked like part of our group. No bodies, no boat, no paddles, no gear. Nothing. I craned my neck to see around the bend, hoping and praying I would see that white boat come out of nowhere. Nothing. I prayed for Meri. I prayed for Steve. I prayed for Shawn and Mike. Please lord let live like you let me.

10 minutes was long enough to wait. I they weren’t by now, they wouldn’t be by. I needed to get to Sue and spare her any thoughts she might have of me drowning. I started climbing out through solid brush. No trail of any sort. Breaking branches and stomping over 4 to 5 foot tall bushes. The going was miserably slow but I had to get to the truck and let them know I was OK. I had to get back and see my pals, hopefully once again. The hike out was brutal. The physical part would have been very difficult if it weren’t for wanting to be back to Sue and the rest.

About one hour after dark I arrived at the road only to have Sue, Ann and Norm pick me up. Meri had managed to hike out before dark. She had floated down to the next bend and was washed into an eddy. She was lucky enough to land at a spot that had a road leading from the river to the highway. The rest of the boys were OK too. About a half hour behind me hiking out a different trail and road.

The parking lot at Skunk hollow was filled with fire trucks, paramedics, swift water rescue teams, and 2 coroners. The bridge was covered with rescue equipment, lights on the river and ropes hanging down, preparing to catch one of us floating by. They had received a call from someone earlier, before our flip, that a couple of people were lost in the river. I thanked all of the rescue workers for their time and energy even though they weren’t needed.

How did we get ourselves in that position? Couldn’t we see, especially with all of our combined experience, that we shouldn’t have gone? We started with a reasonable flow. We certainly wouldn’t have even inflated the boats with the water that high. So why did we continue when we knew the water had risen so high? With so much debris in the water? I thought the water would be flattened out for most of the run. I even told Shawn before we pushed off “if we flip I’m just swimming to the takeout.”
Shawn said to me “do you know how far the takeout is? We’re still at Satins Cesspool.”
“Yah but It will only take about 10 minutes to get to Salmon Falls from here at this fast flow.”
I’ve just never seen that much water in that small of a channel. Last March I attend a high water, 50,000 CFS guide training trip on the Colorado in Grand Canyon and most all of the rapids were washed out. I guess that’s what I expected to see. Fast flat water.

Meri and I talked for several hours the next morning about our ordeal. Comparing notes. She told me how much my talking to her helped her to gain strength and to stay calm. She said at one point she was waiting for that calm, peaceful feeling that they say comes over you in a watery death. I don’t know about her but mine would have been a violent one with me fighting off every breath. We talked about the hundreds of swimmers we’ve both pulled into boats in the past and how they sometimes say “I saw God.”
Mary said “Well our God was a lot bigger than their God. We are always there to pull them in a boat.” We both laughed.

Meri has worked ski patrol at Vail Colorado for the past 10 seasons performing rescues and maintaining control on the mountain. After our brain purge and near death stories, she headed out the door for her home in the city. Her parting words were “I think I’ll go back to doing something safer like chucking dynamite over cliffs starting avalanches.

3 days later when I called Mike to retrieve the boat the river was flowing about 8,500 CFS. With the flooding and rain over for now we inflated boat and convinced Dick to help us with a shuttle. The rumor in town was the afternoon that we were on the river the water was flowing 17 feet over the top of the dam at Chile Bar and flowing at around 78,000 CFS. Dick figures with the additional run-off downstream from the dam it could have been around 90 to 100,000 CFS in the Gorge about the time we were there. Holy shit. That’s a bunch of water. The town of Coloma was devastated with about 3 feet of water covering the road at the State Park during the peak flood. Sutters Mill had actually started working for the first time in over one hundred years. The State Park was littered with trees, trapped in the fences along side of the highway.
Mike and I pushed off on the river and were constantly amazed at how the greenery was stripped of all the riverside foliage. Nearly every riverside campground was cleansed of picnic tables, kitchens, propane tanks, and out houses. The high flow didn’t seem to affect the river channel or the rocks in it. All of the rapids seemed in tact.
When we arrived at Recovery Room Rapid, the eddy that the boys ended up in. The boat was about 25 feet up the bank. There was another 15 feet above the boat where the water had peaked. The river had actually risen 40 feet while we were in that section of the Gorge. Maybe in another hundred years the canyon will see this much water again. The scary part is, I wouldn’t mind trying it again if we had a little different equipment: A bigger boat. One with more low weight and maybe even a spare air rig… JV