2013 was a big year, despite its humble (and hungover) beginnings on the Middle White.

After a few warm up laps on the class II-IV rivers in the Portland area, I quickly set out to help my friends get stout. Gus Kilgore, Kyle Gnarsper, and Harrison Rea found ourselves involved in a surprising rescue at the lip of 45 foot Celestial Falls. Swimmers will remain anonymous, but needless to say, we were all fired up at the end of the day. Harrison made 2 laps, allowing me to get some stellar photos, one of which was featured in the Stephen Forster Flipbook from Bombflow.

About 2 weeks after our adventure at Celestial, I skipped out of work to join Harrison for a sunset Eagle Creek mission. Harrison probed Punchbowl, taking a big hit to the nose, and I followed with a line that I would later regret. We were both in some pain in the pool below, but because the level was so good, I had to continue downstream to run Metlako. Harrison graciously took photos, while Dan Phillips headed further downstream to maybe catch a shot or two and more importantly get a visual of me in the pool below.

My poor line on Punchbowl left me with a torn Labrum, no kayaking for nearly a month. It felt like forever, but forced me to actually earn some money, which I promptly blew on paddling trips when my shoulder was feeling better.

I tentatively paddled at the Creeking Comp held anually at the East fork of the Lewis and Canyon creek in Washington and made a bunch of new friends from Whitman College. Little did I know, these friendships would be my key to a whole slew of kayaking adventures I never would have expected. I also made it onto the C&K blog along with Adam Elliot for our coverage of the event.

After warming up, I felt surprisingly good. I caught Canyon for another low lap with great friends (and the generously lent DSLR from Chris Rourke), and then was somehow convinced to make my way down the Little White again.

The Little White, which I had held synonymous with "Terrorfest" from my previous speedy laps at med-high flows, was actually pretty fun with Johnny Ott and John edwards leading the way. We took plenty of breaks, and the flow of 3.2 was actually rather perfect. I would go on to make one more lap before other, bigger trips took priority.

The 3rd annual Sandy River Showdown hosted by eNRG Kayaking allowed me to create more work with C&K, all the while being reminded about my cracked boat by Mike Braun.

My budding friendship with the Whitman College crowd would be solidified in early May with a trip to the Lochsa. Within hours of arriving at camp, it became clear to me that a certain Tom Whipple would be a friend and paddling partner of great promise (and incessant self expression, in an endearing way, of course). High water lead to multiple laps of Fish Creek, the spectacular Lochsa, and one nonstop blitz down Boulder Creek.

Needless to say, I was hooked on Idaho, and weasled my way onto a Middle fork trip within the week.

Michael Jorgenson, Katie Chapman, Devin Kuh, and Adam Michel would all be making their first trip down, and it was only during the long drive to the put in that I discovered we'd also be paddling the Main Salmon- upping our trips mileage to the low 200 mile range. In 4 days. Not bad for my second ever multiday. 

Remarkably, we managed to find a pit toilet every day on the water... no Groover for me.

As we slowly returned to the daily grind, I had the fortune to show Adam and Tom down a near flooded Canyon Creek. They performed well, especially considering they had anticipated the usual intro to class IV+ creek and were met by a pushy class V river.

After an aborted mission to Upper Lewis Falls inspired by Harrison, we concocted a 36 hour blitz to the Skykomish drainage, inviting Mr. Whipple at the last moment, ensuring a true adventure. Faced with a raging Top Tye, we opted for the (still) wood-choked Lower tye, followed by an exciting Foss lap. Poor Tom biked our shuttle... in the wrong direction in the fading light. An easy Skykomish lap provided a good warm down the following day, and we battled traffic to Portland.

I somehow found myself joining Jarred Jackman and Nate Merrill on their first Salmon River Canyon trip. We were fortunate enough to have first descent mastermind Jacob Cruser along to offer beta. Half canyoneering adventure, half kayaking trip,  Salmon River Canyon is not to be missed. Anotyher C&K writeup found here.

The next day, I hopped aboard a plane and entered the wettest June my hometown has seen in recorded history. Great friends highlighted the high water, best described via photos.

Tom Whipple would again inspire a long string of far fetched boating dreams come true...

A successful Upper Upper Cispus and nearly portageless Truss to Columbia run on the White Salmon capped off the summer season in the PNW.

Tom and Connor Dixon at the Cispus

Stuart having fun on the Middle White.

I hopped aboard a plane to revisit the ultra classic Beaver River Festival near my hometown in NY. There, I was joined with tons of friends and family. With nothing left to prove to myself, this year's beaverfest was the most relaxed I've ever had. It was great too, since I got to show Scott Martin around for his first time.

Scott follows Dustin down one of the best rapids in NY, Moshier Falls.

Danny Siger skies the boof on one of many laps.

Less than a week after my return to the northwest, I rallied north to BC with Harrison Rea, Niko Peha, and Ben Ghertner. We joined Matt Taylor and Sam Swanson on an ominously high Clendinning River, which resulted in an epic portagefest, and some seriously stout whitewater run blind in loaded boats.

Stoked on our shuttle

Unwilling to let the dream end, I joined a big crew from Portland for their first time down the Ashlu Box.

Shortly afterwards, the Whitman connection grew yet again, with an invitation to Hells Canyon on the Snake. New friends Kira McGuisssomethingorother and Thomas Moo-My would also be joining.

Thomas took the hero line.

For my 22nd birthday, I somehow convinced Harrison Rea to run Metlako for his first time, and my third time. He ended up styling it. I did not.

Harrison in a classic place

This is what happens when you boof an 80 footer. somehow I didn't break my back, and I'm still grateful for that.

After my near miss at Metlako, I no longer had a boat, and I was honestly a little scared of running anything too stout. For some reason, Upper Upper Cispus at a high flow didn't register to me as "stout" (more likely didn't register at all), so I joined Ryan Cole and Jah Bradley for their first ever laps down the classic. We decided the water was a bit high at Island, and discovered a relatively easy hike out there.

Ryan boofs, while I realize the river is definitely rather high.

Myself on Big Bro Gus Kilgore Photo

A surprisingly warm november day on the Truss with Jarred Jackman

I've been shooting Big Brother a lot, but it's hard to find a unique angle. Some brainstorming and Harrison's background in slacklining provided the perfect opportunity to do something a bit out of the ordinary.

Alex Loren on the line, Harrison Rea on another kind of line.

2013 was a huge year for me, made possible (and even better) by great friends. My new year will start equally blessed by these people in the Grand Canyon. I'm especially excited by the support from eNRG Kayaking and Clif Bar for the extra snacks, Pyranha Kayaks for designing the bad ass Shiva I'll be taking down the river, Goog's Oceanside Pizza for the longest pizza delivery in the history of the world, and of course my family, who have been so incredibly supportive of my ridiculous habits.

Thanks for reading, and for more photos from 2013 and beyond, take a look at the Photo Annual of The Dirtbag's Guide to Whitewater, due out New Years Eve!

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.