From Tuesday afternoon until now, Mill Creek has been flowing at kayak friendly levels. Tuesday (instead of over the 3 day weekend) people decided to go paddle the Umatilla (erasing any possibility of a ride to mill creek), which conflicted with our track time trial. (I ran a 9:44 for a 3K, and won, it was incredibly windy). Wednesday someone with a car was going to go paddle Mill Creek from 1-3pm. My only class on Wednesday is at 2:30, and my roommate Brian had class from 1-2:20. So I went to go paddling (don't worry parents) and then at 2:00, got out, locked my kayak to a post (like a bike) changed out of my gear and ran back to the art building, for a blistering 2.6 miles. (I forgot my watch on my life jacket). Mill creek flows directly by the art building, but it is illegal and dangerous to kayak that portion. When I got out of class, Brian and I gathered up my gear from the car that I got a ride in, plus a throw bag from the OP. We were planning on running back up to Mill Creek (with back packs full of gear/food/water), but then hitched a ride at the last minute with my photo prof Charley Bloomquist, whose class I had run back from mill creek to attend. Charley dropped us off at the parking lot right beside Missionary Hole, and then Brain changed into paddling gear while I unlocked the boat.
I give Brian some very basic advice about eddying out and surfing waves, along with that if he should swim to hold onto the boat and paddle. His response is "I won't swim". While I was paddling earlier I had not flipped over so had not needed to do a combat roll, but then I was still a little nervous for myself, rolling up in 32 degree moving water for the first time after being in a poll all winter can be dicey. I was envious of his confidence.
He got in, tried surfing the first wave, and immediately caught his up stream edge and flipped over. To his credit he rolled up quickly, and mad the eddy below the next weir. (for those of you who don't know mill creek is basically a series of cement steps, that at high levels each form waves or holes behind them. http://www.wallawallaproperties.com/pictures/millcrkbridge.jpg is at maybe 75 cfs, we were paddling at 750 cfs.)
Brian tried surfing a few other waves, hitting one other combat roll in there and getting one or two decent front surfs in, and then ran the set of weirs below the bridge. He got out and we went to do it all over a again. The whole time I had been running along the river carrying two mostly empty back packs and a throw rope in hand, in case he should swim. By now I was starting to feel comfortable enough, so I dug out the Holga with newly provided Arista 400iso film, that Charley gave me after dropping us off. By now their is a gorgeous sunset happening and Brain is putting in for his second and presumably last run. I snapped two photos, mostly while running to keep up with Brain.
Then while he is below the last weir he paddled over last time, I attempt to yell to him to paddle hard over the next one, on river right. I am below the weir with a good scouting view and he is above it, seeing a horizon line. (Latter I find out he thought I was telling him to eddy out after the weir). He goes over the weir, (which has small but unnaturally perfect hole behind it) and gets stuck in the whole, tries to roll up twice and fails. He goes for a swim. I am standing on the shore about 10ft away and immediately throw him the throw bag and pull him and boat to shore. The paddle is still in the hole. After swimming he was not stuck in the whole, but the boat was, which he was holding onto. After emptying out the boat, Brian spots the paddle floating down stream, which gets stuck on some reeds. I wade out and get it. (Whenever I have been taught wadding it has always been with a paddle or other people to help, at this point Brian was probably too cold to help, and the paddle was what I was getting. Anyway my surefooted barefoot shoes did the trick.)
We collect our gear and our selves. I give Brian my gloves, wool hat, and some hot chocolate stolen from the dining hall in my thermos and stashed at Mill Creek on my first trip there. It is night. I shoulder the Boat and give Brian the backpack (with another back pack inside of it) and we start our run/walk/jog back to campus. Rounding the first corner after North Wilbur, from under the kayak I here a deep voice say "hello", and turn and see my math prof Russ Gordon out for a run. I turn and say "oh, hey Russ" and then " Can call you Russ?" to which he responds "yes" and keeps running. We continue our trek back towards campus hoping to get back before the dinning hall closes at 7pm. As the stone engraved with "Whitman College" comes into view the bell tower chimes once, suggesting it is 5:30, 6:30, or 7:30. We guess 6:30 (which it turns out to be) but we really have no clue.
I give Brian some very basic advice about eddying out and surfing waves, along with that if he should swim to hold onto the boat and paddle. His response is "I won't swim". While I was paddling earlier I had not flipped over so had not needed to do a combat roll, but then I was still a little nervous for myself, rolling up in 32 degree moving water for the first time after being in a poll all winter can be dicey. I was envious of his confidence.
He got in, tried surfing the first wave, and immediately caught his up stream edge and flipped over. To his credit he rolled up quickly, and mad the eddy below the next weir. (for those of you who don't know mill creek is basically a series of cement steps, that at high levels each form waves or holes behind them. http://www.wallawallaproperties.com/pictures/millcrkbridge.jpg is at maybe 75 cfs, we were paddling at 750 cfs.)
Brian tried surfing a few other waves, hitting one other combat roll in there and getting one or two decent front surfs in, and then ran the set of weirs below the bridge. He got out and we went to do it all over a again. The whole time I had been running along the river carrying two mostly empty back packs and a throw rope in hand, in case he should swim. By now I was starting to feel comfortable enough, so I dug out the Holga with newly provided Arista 400iso film, that Charley gave me after dropping us off. By now their is a gorgeous sunset happening and Brain is putting in for his second and presumably last run. I snapped two photos, mostly while running to keep up with Brain.
Then while he is below the last weir he paddled over last time, I attempt to yell to him to paddle hard over the next one, on river right. I am below the weir with a good scouting view and he is above it, seeing a horizon line. (Latter I find out he thought I was telling him to eddy out after the weir). He goes over the weir, (which has small but unnaturally perfect hole behind it) and gets stuck in the whole, tries to roll up twice and fails. He goes for a swim. I am standing on the shore about 10ft away and immediately throw him the throw bag and pull him and boat to shore. The paddle is still in the hole. After swimming he was not stuck in the whole, but the boat was, which he was holding onto. After emptying out the boat, Brian spots the paddle floating down stream, which gets stuck on some reeds. I wade out and get it. (Whenever I have been taught wadding it has always been with a paddle or other people to help, at this point Brian was probably too cold to help, and the paddle was what I was getting. Anyway my surefooted barefoot shoes did the trick.)
We collect our gear and our selves. I give Brian my gloves, wool hat, and some hot chocolate stolen from the dining hall in my thermos and stashed at Mill Creek on my first trip there. It is night. I shoulder the Boat and give Brian the backpack (with another back pack inside of it) and we start our run/walk/jog back to campus. Rounding the first corner after North Wilbur, from under the kayak I here a deep voice say "hello", and turn and see my math prof Russ Gordon out for a run. I turn and say "oh, hey Russ" and then " Can call you Russ?" to which he responds "yes" and keeps running. We continue our trek back towards campus hoping to get back before the dinning hall closes at 7pm. As the stone engraved with "Whitman College" comes into view the bell tower chimes once, suggesting it is 5:30, 6:30, or 7:30. We guess 6:30 (which it turns out to be) but we really have no clue.
I here about said events the next day in math class, in before the proof that e is irrational and after the proof that there is always a prime between n and n! for n>2. All in all a much needed break from the routine of, work out, eat, class, eat, run, home work, eat, home work, sleep, rinse and repeat.