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!

What is there to say about Idaho that hasn't already been said?

Much.

But it's a place that seems to actively defy description. It's a place between two places, sandwiched somewhere between the ragged mountains of Western Montana and the high desert of eastern Washington and Oregon.

The rivers are likewise unsure of their identities. They flood, dry up, and flood again. I've only been on a handful; the Lochsa, the Payette, the Middle and Main Salmon. But I've read about them, watched them in videos, and heard about them. My first impressions have always been glazed with the excitement of new friends and adventure, but the rivers are always at the core. 

They are true rivers, flowing with the combined rush of many mountain streams. Somehow, they constrain their volume into narrow, boulder choked riverbeds. An ocean in a streambed.

Even the rocks can't seem to hold still. I'm no geologist, but I know someone who is, and if I had a dollar for every time she said "woah, these rocks are so WEIRD" or just stared at the canyon walls slackjawed on the Salmon, I might just come out of this trip breaking even.

What I saw was admittedly just a jumble of rocks, but a jumble of rocks that shifted in hue and texture , until one day on the Main, there was no more jumble, just a big blank face of dark rock.

In Idaho, you drift, or the world drifts around you. Time stops, or passes by too quickly. Alpine meadows, burn zones, and austere high desert. Wildflowers, sage, and ponderosa.

It's a place to be surrounded... by people and canyon walls.

By waves and nothingness.