Yesterday was the last day of finals for a lot of my friends. Not just for the year, but for their entire undergrad career. It was potentially the last "Final Exam" many of them will ever have to take.

Congratulations to all of you!

Recognizing this got me thinking about where I am in life versus where I would be if I were with them right now. Having a minimum of a year and a half left of school while my friends are moving on to careers and the questions that come after graduating is daunting and a little discouraging, but looking back I don't see any room for regret. I may have stopped going to school (temporarily), but that doesn't mean I stopped learning.

While most of my exploits since I left the traditional undergraduate pursuit behind can be found in the archives of this blog, this post serves as a photodump/chronicle of just some of the highlights.

Dec. 31, 2011: Inspired by Scott Martin and with the help of several other talented paddlers/photographers/designers I released Issue 1 of The Dirtbag's Guide to Whitewater

May 18, 2012: After returning to the PNW to set eNRG Kayaking up for a successful summer season, I took my first lap down the Little White Salmon River. The level was 3.7 feet. I was more gripped than I had ever been on a river and ended the day with a skirt implosion and far more flips than I felt comfortable with.

Days later I spent an extended weekend in beautiful British Columbia with Kate Daniel. The highlight of which was easily Captain Holiday's incredible hospitality.

May 28, 2012: A return to the Little White Salmon where I snapped a paddle, followed by a scout of Metlako with Steve Fisher and crew for the now infamous Contour duo drop. 2 days later, I paddled over the lip, tucked up tight, and fell 80-something feet.

June 14, 2012: I returned home and embarked on my first source to sea kayaking expedition. It would also be my first overnight self-support kayak trip. I had far more food than I needed, and there was much less water in the river than we expected. Despite this (or perhaps because of it) the 2012 Source to Sea Expedition of the Cheticamp River in Nova Scotia is a mission I will never forget. Thanks to Ben Schott for the invite, Mike Mainer for joining us, and Catharine Hull for driving shuttle and convincing her mother we were worthy of sleeping in the gorgeous camp!

August 2, 2012: Amidst a low water summer filled with raft guiding at Whitewater Challengers Black River (A place I will always consider my second home) and Bottom Moose laps, I found my way to the  Ottawa River and learned that, given a big enough wave, even I can get some air.

Somewhere in the transition of late summer to early fall, I got my first laps on some long coveted ADK classics. Great Falls on the Black, Twin Falls of the Grass, the Raquette, and the Moshier Spillway.

September 19, 2012: Alan Panebaker drowned in a sieve on the Upper Pemi in NH. While this day will always be filled with a great sadness, it also will always remind me of the incredible and inspirational life Alan led. From the start, he was one of my favorite people to paddle with, and every time I reach a milestone in my life, I remember his advice to "remember the little people."

September 20, 2012: I packed my car and headed south, then further south, then even further south, and finally west and gradually north. To sum it up nicely: 3 days on the Upper Gauley, a week in the Nantahala Gorge, 1 lap on the Nantahala Cascades, a busted paddle, 1 lap on the Ocoee, first legal beer El Rancho in Durango, CO, sunset in Arches National Park, sunrise over the Bonneville Salt Flats, Sunset and rise over Crater Lake, a scout of Toketee Falls, and too many hours in the car.

Full report here.

Mid-October: Joined Steve Fisher for the PNW Congo Premiere Tour, rallying from a HIGH water trip down the Hood River to Boise, to Jackson, and back to Boise. Let's just say that Jackson was cool, but Boise knows how to party.

Thanksgiving 2012: An incredible feast with Kate Daniel and family. I really can't say enough good things about these folks.

December 21, 2012: My first run over Celestial Falls, followed shortly after by my second. It was at a great flow and Adam Elliot and John Edwards were probably the best people I could have done it with. Plus a sweet crew of photographers was on scene.

Christmas 2012: My first christmas away from home couldn't have felt more at home. Katie Rogers and family is another group of people that are truly indescribably kind and generous. Plus an East Fork of the Lewis paddle!!

New Years Day, 2013: Despite an extraordinary hangover, I joined John, Cat, and Mike for a celebration of the new year on a very snowy and cold Middle White Salmon.

March 27th, 2013: The sun popped out, and we all got bold. I joined forces with Harrison Rea to take Gus Kilgore and Kyle Gnarsper down Celestial Falls. Things didn't go as smoothly as we had hoped, but no one was injured. As far as I know, Gnarsper is the first to go for a half hail mary in a creek boat...

Easter 2013: Escaping from work early, I met Harrison Rea and Dan Phillips for Punchbowl Falls on Eagle Creek. Harrison 45ed and bloodied his nose, I got twisted midway down and wrenched my shoulder pretty badly. Metlako looked too good to pass up though, so I headed down to the quiet pool above, this time alone.

April 13, 2013: The Dirtbag's Guide Issue 5 is released. It receives over 5,000 hits in under a week.

I was out of paddling commission for about 3 weeks waiting for my shoulder to heal, and decided to test it at the Northwest Creeking Competition. April 20th and 21st brought with them an incredible sense of relief as I got my shoulder back into the swing of things. Plus Canoe & Kayak published my coverage of the event!

By Canyon Creek the second day, I was feeling pretty good... Adam Elliot Photo

May 2, 2013: Return to the Little White Salmon. Despite significant apprehension, I ventured up to the Little White for the first time in almost a year. It was running about 3 feet. John Edwards, Johnny Ott, and Tony Skriv took their time showing me down, and I ended the day with 3 portages (two around wood, one at spirit) and no flips. It was an incredible day, and I view it as a breakthrough in my paddling ability. I've been back once since, and can't wait to get back again.

John and Johnny headed for the put in boof. Kim Becker Photo

May 4, 2013: With a shiny new (to me) DSLR in hand, I headed to the Sandy River Showdown to cover the event. Mountain biking, kayaking, beer, and an invitation to an awesome mission in California made for a great weekend.

These highlights say nothing of the great people I've met along the way, the satisfaction of overcoming the challenges of the "real world" college no longer shelters me from, and all the awesome things I don't have exact dates on. Thank you to everyone who has supported me, bought me beer, let me sleep on your couch/guest bed/floor, and listened to my ridiculous rants.

This view will never get old. Mt. Hood from WA.

Eli Nicholson surrounded by the kind of canyon the PNW is famous for.

Steve Fisher gets rowdy off the water as well as on.

An hour and a half from Portland, might as well be another planet. Mike Braun Photo

Here kitty-kitty

Kay, Megan, and Willa underneath North Silver Creek

Mike Braun going for the fun line at Alder Creek on the Sandy River

The sea is a good place to reflect

Adam Elliot perched above the East Fork of the Lewis, patiently awaiting the shot.

Raging Metlako

Follensby Pond, NY

A tough hike on its own, the loop to Kings and back up the Wilson River trail was the hardest hike I've ever done. Mike enjoying the pain train.

Sunrise on Saddle Mountain. Do it.

Stay tuned for a Lochsa trip report this time next week!

Straight to the point: The last few months have been busy and exciting.

While a variety of easier Class 3-4 rivers made up the first month or two, in March I found myself once again at the lip of Celestial Falls. It's about as clean as any 45 foot waterfall can be, and Harrison made a second lap look super appealing. 

The next day I rallied ahead of the racers at the Upper Wind Festival with Benny Small to get a couple shots. The Upper Wind is a great class 4+ race course with continuous waves, holes, and rocks to dodge. We posted up just below Ram's Horn, one of the steepest rapids on the run, although definitely not the hardest.

As much fun as paddling is, it doesn't pay the bills. So I spent the majority of my time working at the Portland Aquarium.

Meanwhile, my car was breaking down. Time to find a new grand investment. And by that I mean a car that won't breakdown within a year for under about a grand. As always, the internet provided, and I got hooked up with this sweet rig!

A photo mission out to the coast the first night I got her seemed like the perfect test. Besides a brief interruption of my sleep by a very friendly police officer ("No camping in city limits...but you can drive a mile that way and nobody will give you problems") and an apparently murderous forest, the mission was a great success.

Now if you look carefully, you might see an issue. The bottom photo was taken about 30 minutes after the one to the left.

As it turns out, I still don't have an answer as to whether a tree falling in the forest with no one around to hear it does or does not make a noise. I do, however, know that a tree falling in the forest will obliterate a trail whether there's anyone around to hear it or not.

Also, trees are really big.

After dodging that (wooden) bullet, Harrison Rea called me about running Punchbowl Falls on Eagle Creek. It's one of the most visually appealing waterfalls I've ever seen, so that answer was a no-brainer. There were 2 other questions that required a bit more contemplation: How to get out of work on Easter Sunday, and whether or not I'd run Metlako, the 80+ foot spout shortly below Punchbowl.

A slow day at the Aquarium and some begging answered the first question, but I was still unsure about the second. I had done it once before, but only with people who could offer some guidance and safety. The mental pressure had me pretty maxed out without even considering running a 35 footer just before. I decided to decide at the overlook, after getting an idea of how much water would be in the creek, and to decide again after seeing how Punchbowl worked out.

Unwilling to take another hit to his face, Harrison opted out of Metlako, despite perfect flows. I was left with a tough choice, but opted to paddle down into the quiet gorge alone. Harrison and Dan would be unable to do anything to help except run down trail in the fading light and call for a rescue, but I was confident I would nail the line.

And with a couple hand strokes midway down, I did just that. It was a great feeling to paddle over such a huge horizon again, and an even better feeling to find my paddle wedged at the lip of the portage rapid just downstream.

Unfortunately, the hit I took at punchbowl had done far more damage to my left shoulder than I had thought. I spent the next day in a sling, and the next 3 weeks trying to recover in time for the Northwest Creeking Competition. (<-- By Eric Adsit, hey, I know that guy!) I also published Issue 5 of The Dirtbag's Guide to Whitewater.

When I finally got back in a boat, things felt good. Really good.

To the left, John Edwards on Sunset Falls


To the right, Benny Small planting a solid one on Champagne









Everything went as smoothly as I could have asked. 3 laps down the East Fork, a rowdy night amongst new friends, and a solid lap down Canyon Creek at a great flow had me stoked on boating and boating culture. Since then, I've been taking as many photos as possible on the familiar runs.

Nate Merrel taking headed into Swizzle Sticks

John Edwards on Big Kahuna

Tony on the same

Stacked action for Gus Kilgore and Eli Nicholson on Champagne/Hammering Spot

The 'Illusive' Gnarsper on the same

When I can't paddle, I've been going on some stout hikes with Mike "I'm serious, it's an ass-kicker" Braun, who likes trails that go up and down a lot.

Up

and down

For hazy vistas and really tasty peanut butter honey burritos...

To top it all off, I bought a camera. A real one! To celebrate I'm starting the classic Project 365. A photo a day, every day for a year. Probably easiest to follow along here.

In terms of dirtbagging, I had it all. Lot's of friends with warm homes and spare couches or bedrooms, a nightshift job that was just mind-numbing enough to dream about kayaking during the whole shift and left the days free to actually go kayaking, and even a family I didn't owe any real responsibility to.

Thanks to Cat, I'm not homeless anymore, and now I get to tell people I'm in a much better place now than I was yesterday.

I stopped posting for a while because it felt like I was selling out.

You know, telling everyone how cool I was without actually saying anything insightful. And there's enough of that in this sport.

Since my last post, I said goodbye to my friends and family in the northeast and embarked on a cross country odyssey that I only survived because of the kindness of friends and strangers.

The first stop was Scott Martin's for the obligatory photo shoot:

This:

By now, you're probably all familiar with this video, since the blog you're reading is named after it.

But it's good fun to watch again (and again, and again, and...)

Last weekend was Labor Day Weekend, better known as Beaverfest, and as usual hundreds of paddlers flocked to the western Adirondacks to get some Beaver. It also happened to be the 6 year anniversary of my rebirth as the Beaverator Kid, and while I didn't paddle the Taylorville section this weekend, I'll be making my way back there in the coming weeks.

More importantly, I stepped it up in a big way elsewhere.

If you're lazy and/or don't care to hear me describe the incredible awesomeness of the weekend, feel free to skip to the bottom paragraphs which contain the morals!

 Last year, I had a staph infection on my knee that made walking difficult, and the idea of shoving it into a thighbrace unfathomable. It was the first Beaverfest I hadn't paddled in 7 years. I spent the weekend surrounded by friends and strangers alike running the river...over and over and over again. I was miserable, but I took a bunch of great photos and determined that no matter what I'd be healthy the following year.

And so I found myself here a year later:

 Yeah, that's a massive roostertail. It stems from a ledge/rock that juts up about 2 feet out of the bedrock right at the bottom-middle of the slide. There's a pretty solid amount of flow that crashes straight into it, making a normally large and ominous slide downright intimidating. 

 Surprisingly, I bucked up and ran it. It took a little while, but after watching a number of people miss their boof and sloppily bounce down and still making it to the right too early, I remembered the wise words of Kate Daniel: "What could possibly go wrong?" And so I dropped in, nailing a boof and waiting to make the move to the right, finding it surprisingly smooth.

Stoked on finally firing up one of the biggest drops in NY, we headed down for an eventful run down the normal stretch. An unnamed paddler that looked vaguely familiar to me and may or may not have taught me everything I know took a stout beating at the second drop, followed by a swim. Then another anonymous individual took a brutal hit to the face in one of the no-name rapids.

Unfazed, we continued downriver with a couple more (justifiable) swims and 2 hot laps down Moshier Falls for me. It was the first year I really felt in control coming through the pushy series and into the boof.

The Eagle followed, where Catherine got to practice her boof, and others sneaked in and out of eddies between KONY Racers charging down the course.

The following day, Taylor decided that buying a Beaverfest sticker and putting it on the back of his car wasn't enough, so he passed up an awesome time on the Raquette to paddle the Taylorville section (again).

And by awesome time on the Raquette, I mean it must have been interesting to watch, since I botched a line at Colton, requiring me to reset in the eddy above the boof and then battle a submerged rock at the bottom before ultimately rolling and scrambling into an eddy. Dylan seemed to be thinking twice after I said "it's not that hard, watch me..."

We continued quickly down to the Tubs. Dylan had a clean line, and I headed up to run it myself, confident in my past experience.

It should go without saying that I was overly confident.

I don't know how long I was in there, but I thought about swimming a couple times. Then I rolled up and saw where I was. With a pillow of water pushing me back towards the curtain and an swirling current securing me deep in the pocket, I realized no matter how bad things seemed in the boat, I didn't want to go swimming here.

After getting violently tossed, having my paddle snatched from one hand, and getting bowstalled underwater, I finally rolled up and managed to draw my way out before styling the second drop.

Dylan followed me down Particle Accelerator to continue the carnage. His right hand was totally shredded, but I think he got away without stitches. Catherine saved him the carry out by joining me for the remainder of the run, and all in all, the day was a success.

So here's the moral:

Even though I styled my lines on the Moshier, I feel that the beatdown and my ability to surf out of it speaks more to my skills as a paddler. Doug Ammons states that "The real measure of skill is not what you can paddle in optimum circumstances" but "what you can do when the worst happens and you're at rock bottom." While I was far from rock bottom (only figuratively speaking) I can at least say my ability to adapt quickly to a plan b or c has evolved greatly since the Beaverator Incident. No matter what class of paddler I become, paddling rivers I started out on will always hold a special place in my heart for the sense of renewed perspective and growth I can find on them.

Bonus moral:

Getting worked sucks, but it makes you a better paddler. Try it sometime.