Colorado: Day 1, Pre-race day

Squeeked into the boarding gate 12 mintues before flight time after poaching 15 miles of rush hour east side Seattle carpool lane. I figured 4 1/2 years of vanpool and bussing it in that area evened out my transgression. My sprint from security screening wasn't necessary as the plane had only just arrived, and I scored a third row window surrounded by height/weight proportional adults. Lucky.

A false approach diverted by changing winds driven by too-close electrical storms had us circling Denver metropolitan area for 40 minutes, sometimes in the fog with the whole tin can shaking. My neighbor clutched her husband; I squeezed my pillow with white knuckles. Finally: the landing strip, and the flight attendant suggested we applaud our pilot, which we did with little enthusiasm.

Kevin and I made our way to Lafayette, where Darryl Brown, who creates the Rocky Mountain Riverboards, graciously hosted us in his beautiful suburban home. My nerves were still rattling by the time we got there, and fortunately my bottle of Jameson survived the cargo hold intact. Kevin was going on 22 hours without sleep, so an early start was not even suggested.

They're having an unseasonably wet and cold June in Colorado. I left sunshine and near 70s in the coastal northwest; seems the towns have traded weather patterns. But the morning was pleasant and at the crack of 10 am or so we headed up to Golden. We decided to scope out the whitewater park first, but getting there had its own diversion caused by road construction and large-scale events. The visitor center parking lot was blocked off, but the kayak shop had better information anyway. Although the clerk said the flows were really good in the park, nothing in there looked all that interesting, although the wave holes looked at least sticky enough.

We then stopped at Rigormortis, to check out the class 5 section with heavy consequences. We'd seen pictures of Josh running it, but I had no problem leaving that one a permanent blank spot. A couple tight drops preceded a nasty undercut and a hard turn. Very narrow as well.

We kept looking for black rocks to spot Black Rock Canyon, to try and run the course for the downriver race. Eventually we parked near a highway split, unloaded, and Kevin drove back down river to set shuttle. After more scoping he decided we were too far upriver and picked another spot, one where a man was setting up a huge vaccuum cleaner to suck any gold off the bottom of the river. I wonder how much gold he'd have to find to recoup the cost of all his gear! A few ant bites later Kevin arrived, now knowing where Black Rock was, and we were good to go.

About a mile downstream from our putin, the descent began, technical lines around boulder gardens in pushy water that tested my ability to steer. It was fairly constant but with some breaks in between.

I'm not sure which rattled me more; that airplane flight or the narrows section. A succession of steep drops with pour overs in the direct current and fall line made for some very challenging riverboarding. I'd padded up more than I ever had before; adding a newly purchased 3 mil farmer over extra padding in the thighs, hard plastic armor over the shins and knees, over my five mil. But this extra gear also made it more difficult for me to move my legs and respond quickly to reactionary situations. It was either the extra effort to turn and kick or the death grip hold on my Kern board handles through 5 mil gloves that had me gasping for air and eddying out every possible opportunity to restore a normal breathing pattern and let my nerves settle down a bit. The whole time I was thinking that I was NOT going to race this.

With just two of us, I was not sure if I wanted to go first or second. If I was first, Kevin was there behind me to help, but then I'd have to pick the line. I decided I'd rather follow his line in the end. One particularly memorable line was a quick cut left, then hard right between two huge bolders and about a 4' drop followed by another drop, and it all felt smooth and in the seam and I was thinking what a wonderful line that was we just ran, when just over the next drop I collided with Kevin in a hole, where we both floundered for a few seconds. That was the nature of this run.

My confidence not at its highest point, we sat in an eddy and stared down the next rapid. On the right it was shallow with a branch sticking up facing downstream with a hole to its left, and what looked like an undercut to the far left. I decided to portage it. When I got around the bend, that far river left area was a giant cave, and I felt pretty okay with my decision. I watched Kevin go down and he was able to stay river right and miss the cave with no uncertainty. I scrambled back down the embankment and caught what was to be the last bit of fun rapid for our journey that day. The priority was to miss Rigormortis, and on a new river where everything pretty much looks the same, Kevin had parked the car about a mile upstream from it.

Afterwards we went back to the whitewater park and played in the surf waves, then made our way back home. We toured the Rocky Mountain Riverboard factory, enjoying brew and conversation, going to bed anticipating the next day's races.

Stay tuned for race day and results.