1st Descent Poland Creek: a Huckin Huge Epic
By: Michael Fisher
Photos: Cody Howard
Three o’clock in the morning and my alarm goes off; I got a whole two and a half hours of sleep, Cody probably got less (Arizona boating lesson #1: the early bird gets the worm). I roll off Cody’s couch as he comes staggering out of his room with his eyes closed. The next 15 minute is spent throwing gear in the car and making wake up calls.
By four am we are waiting for Bret and Ryan to arrive at the alpha site (Marine speak for Sportsman’s Warehouse). After they show up, we load up Ryan’s ‘YAKNWGN’ and roll out five AM, two vehicles: the Subie and the RAM PW.
Aaron is waiting for us at the take out (the real take out), but there’s a problem. After some exploring Aaron was unable to locate Poland creek; marginally understandable considering the sun had not yet risen. So, we left another vehicle about 8 miles downstream, after Poland had joined with Black Canyon creek.
Finally we get to the put in where we have 31 degrees, wind, and a 1.5 mile hike in. We all spared no layering before the hike which, unknown at the time, would prove very handy later on.
As we made our way down the trail we knew we had chosen the right drainage that day. Arizona had received so much rain over the past two weeks that all other options seemed likely to be death traps; Cody decided on Poland still skeptical about flows. However, every small ravine we crossed had water running down it all the way down to the creek-bed.
We put on Poland creek and paddled some small falls until we hit its confluence with Horsethief Canyon . As soon as I pulled into the eddy, Cody signaled for me to hop out and hike up. What a way to start the day; our first major rapid, so dubbed S-Turn, was a three part granite bedrock rapid consisting of a slide, boof, and another bending slide to cap it off. Minimal carnage included a back deck roll on my part, and the other end of the spectrum yielded a beautiful line on Cody’s part.
The granite everywhere was overwhelming, and I thought I was back in California . The pictures we had seen could never have done justice to what we found. This creek was a kayakers dream; a granite wonderland of: slides, falls, and rapids.
We made our way down to the heart of the run, the Big Dipper. This thirty foot slide and fall was a spectacular sight indeed. Two rooster tails showering drop zones for mega boofs had us all awe-struck for a few minutes as we picked our lines and simply appreciated the raw power of where we were. As much as we would all have loved to sit and stare for days this was simply not an option. Ryan and Aaron portaged and set safety for Bret, Cody, and I.
Cody called first dibs, which Bret and I had no issue with. He fired up the left line with a massive delayed over boof (that Marine has some core power)! Time for Mikey to have at her: I probed the right rooster with a whipped out 45degree hang-time boof. Finally, it was time for Howard number two to finish her off. I sat at the bottom with an incredible view of mist covering half the falls. I heard Cody yell and the next thing I knew I saw Bret boofed straight into the mist, and then appear again at the bottom with dropped jaw as the whole crew let out huge whoops of astonishment and admiration at one of the most beautiful lines ever run in the Grand Canyon State (that piece of video will go down in history).
With the best part of the day behind us, and smiles plastered onto our faces we made our way downstream. Immediately after the Big Dipper was a 20 foot slide that sent you to the bottom of the river before surfacing quite a ways downstream (or for the unlucky few: right back up into the hole they had to dig out of). We also found McLovin: a boof onto a slide that we recognized from a picture online; however, never would we have thought to have found it with so much water. As we made our way down we couldn’t help but notice the unyielding power of this creek. This trip to our granite Disneyland was turning into a box canyon that resembled a never ending version of Mr. Toad’s wild ride.
The gradient was relentless, and the sun was falling faster with each bend we passed. The time for lollygagging was over, we needed to get to the take out quickly. Unfortunately, the canyon was simply not going to allow this. After mindless portaging, and boat scouting large amounts of class V we pulled out before a large bend. Hiking to the top of the hill hoping to see the confluence with Black Canyon creek our hearts sunk to our exhausted knees as we gazed upon a seemingly endless canyon.
The sun was low, tensions were at their peaks, and we had no time to bicker. All aggravations were lost in a frenzy of wood gathering, shelter design, and fire starting. By nightfall we had a lean-two made of small desert trunks, branches, and grass. Our fire was glowing inside a granite fracture, and our boats were covering what little dry wood we had. The night was cold and our emotions mirrored our fire. As the fire burned hot we were able to laugh about the situation, and as the fire would fade so too would our plans for tomorrow fade back into reality. The reality was whatever plans may have been made for the next day were gone, replaced with what must be A-game fast paced paddling to get to a take out we weren’t sure we would recognize. I’m not sure how much sleep we got, but it wasn’t much. No sleeping bags in below freezing temperatures often make for a pretty chilly night. Yet, alas, a new day had begun and we had survived the night on a few cliff bars and split some caramel and a power bar for breakfast. Oh, and I almost forgot the iodine water (although I didn’t notice the iodine so I’m not sure what all the griping was over that). Back to the paddling: we are now on day two of epic two (two weeks in a row for Cody and me), and have unknown class V below.
Cody led the way down some boulder choked class V and boat scouted a vertical granite walled gorge that turned out to be absolutely incredible. I wish we had taken the time to film some of the drops on this day as the box simply did not end until the last two miles of the creek. With the box behind us we were now boat scouting down class II read and die. You laugh, but the small stuff is where people die. The amount of pins in this section were limitless and I was happy to have gotten through it with minimal damage to my knuckles. We finally reached a ford in the creek that we believed to mark the road to our first vehicle. After a minute or so of deliberation we decided that this was indeed the correct take out (note: massive water tank up the road downstream on river right). We stashed the boats and began our ascent.
Happy to be back on dry land we all laughed and reminisced over the past day and a half. We finally reached the Subie, affirming my faith in Cody’s skill with maps. After dealing with an overzealous alarm system for about ten minutes we were able to get inside and crank up the heater. The next hour or so was spent retrieving vehicles and boats before we made our way to In-N-Out burger.
I swear the girl who took our order had to think we had all just come from one heck of an experience as she had a case of the giggle fits she was simply incapable of controlling. I can’t blame the poor girl; five smelly, unshaven, bloody kayakers walk in like stiff legged zombies what in the world was she supposed to think. Never the less a double-double never tasted so good.
We all finished off the last of the fry crumbs, and ate every piece of ice before we were willing to stand up again. Eventually we made our way back to the parking lot, said our goodbyes and drove off into what Arizona is most truly famous for: an unbeatable sunset.
By: Michael Fisher
Photos: Cody Howard
Look for the video of this epic 1st descent in the much anticipated spring 09 release: Kayak Session Magazine presents: THE RISEN SUN, a HuckinHuge Film
By: Michael Fisher
Photos: Cody Howard
Three o’clock in the morning and my alarm goes off; I got a whole two and a half hours of sleep, Cody probably got less (Arizona boating lesson #1: the early bird gets the worm). I roll off Cody’s couch as he comes staggering out of his room with his eyes closed. The next 15 minute is spent throwing gear in the car and making wake up calls.
By four am we are waiting for Bret and Ryan to arrive at the alpha site (Marine speak for Sportsman’s Warehouse). After they show up, we load up Ryan’s ‘YAKNWGN’ and roll out five AM, two vehicles: the Subie and the RAM PW.
Aaron is waiting for us at the take out (the real take out), but there’s a problem. After some exploring Aaron was unable to locate Poland creek; marginally understandable considering the sun had not yet risen. So, we left another vehicle about 8 miles downstream, after Poland had joined with Black Canyon creek.
Finally we get to the put in where we have 31 degrees, wind, and a 1.5 mile hike in. We all spared no layering before the hike which, unknown at the time, would prove very handy later on.
As we made our way down the trail we knew we had chosen the right drainage that day. Arizona had received so much rain over the past two weeks that all other options seemed likely to be death traps; Cody decided on Poland still skeptical about flows. However, every small ravine we crossed had water running down it all the way down to the creek-bed.
We put on Poland creek and paddled some small falls until we hit its confluence with Horsethief Canyon . As soon as I pulled into the eddy, Cody signaled for me to hop out and hike up. What a way to start the day; our first major rapid, so dubbed S-Turn, was a three part granite bedrock rapid consisting of a slide, boof, and another bending slide to cap it off. Minimal carnage included a back deck roll on my part, and the other end of the spectrum yielded a beautiful line on Cody’s part.
The granite everywhere was overwhelming, and I thought I was back in California . The pictures we had seen could never have done justice to what we found. This creek was a kayakers dream; a granite wonderland of: slides, falls, and rapids.
We made our way down to the heart of the run, the Big Dipper. This thirty foot slide and fall was a spectacular sight indeed. Two rooster tails showering drop zones for mega boofs had us all awe-struck for a few minutes as we picked our lines and simply appreciated the raw power of where we were. As much as we would all have loved to sit and stare for days this was simply not an option. Ryan and Aaron portaged and set safety for Bret, Cody, and I.
Cody called first dibs, which Bret and I had no issue with. He fired up the left line with a massive delayed over boof (that Marine has some core power)! Time for Mikey to have at her: I probed the right rooster with a whipped out 45degree hang-time boof. Finally, it was time for Howard number two to finish her off. I sat at the bottom with an incredible view of mist covering half the falls. I heard Cody yell and the next thing I knew I saw Bret boofed straight into the mist, and then appear again at the bottom with dropped jaw as the whole crew let out huge whoops of astonishment and admiration at one of the most beautiful lines ever run in the Grand Canyon State (that piece of video will go down in history).
With the best part of the day behind us, and smiles plastered onto our faces we made our way downstream. Immediately after the Big Dipper was a 20 foot slide that sent you to the bottom of the river before surfacing quite a ways downstream (or for the unlucky few: right back up into the hole they had to dig out of). We also found McLovin: a boof onto a slide that we recognized from a picture online; however, never would we have thought to have found it with so much water. As we made our way down we couldn’t help but notice the unyielding power of this creek. This trip to our granite Disneyland was turning into a box canyon that resembled a never ending version of Mr. Toad’s wild ride.
The gradient was relentless, and the sun was falling faster with each bend we passed. The time for lollygagging was over, we needed to get to the take out quickly. Unfortunately, the canyon was simply not going to allow this. After mindless portaging, and boat scouting large amounts of class V we pulled out before a large bend. Hiking to the top of the hill hoping to see the confluence with Black Canyon creek our hearts sunk to our exhausted knees as we gazed upon a seemingly endless canyon.
The sun was low, tensions were at their peaks, and we had no time to bicker. All aggravations were lost in a frenzy of wood gathering, shelter design, and fire starting. By nightfall we had a lean-two made of small desert trunks, branches, and grass. Our fire was glowing inside a granite fracture, and our boats were covering what little dry wood we had. The night was cold and our emotions mirrored our fire. As the fire burned hot we were able to laugh about the situation, and as the fire would fade so too would our plans for tomorrow fade back into reality. The reality was whatever plans may have been made for the next day were gone, replaced with what must be A-game fast paced paddling to get to a take out we weren’t sure we would recognize. I’m not sure how much sleep we got, but it wasn’t much. No sleeping bags in below freezing temperatures often make for a pretty chilly night. Yet, alas, a new day had begun and we had survived the night on a few cliff bars and split some caramel and a power bar for breakfast. Oh, and I almost forgot the iodine water (although I didn’t notice the iodine so I’m not sure what all the griping was over that). Back to the paddling: we are now on day two of epic two (two weeks in a row for Cody and me), and have unknown class V below.
Cody led the way down some boulder choked class V and boat scouted a vertical granite walled gorge that turned out to be absolutely incredible. I wish we had taken the time to film some of the drops on this day as the box simply did not end until the last two miles of the creek. With the box behind us we were now boat scouting down class II read and die. You laugh, but the small stuff is where people die. The amount of pins in this section were limitless and I was happy to have gotten through it with minimal damage to my knuckles. We finally reached a ford in the creek that we believed to mark the road to our first vehicle. After a minute or so of deliberation we decided that this was indeed the correct take out (note: massive water tank up the road downstream on river right). We stashed the boats and began our ascent.
Happy to be back on dry land we all laughed and reminisced over the past day and a half. We finally reached the Subie, affirming my faith in Cody’s skill with maps. After dealing with an overzealous alarm system for about ten minutes we were able to get inside and crank up the heater. The next hour or so was spent retrieving vehicles and boats before we made our way to In-N-Out burger.
I swear the girl who took our order had to think we had all just come from one heck of an experience as she had a case of the giggle fits she was simply incapable of controlling. I can’t blame the poor girl; five smelly, unshaven, bloody kayakers walk in like stiff legged zombies what in the world was she supposed to think. Never the less a double-double never tasted so good.
We all finished off the last of the fry crumbs, and ate every piece of ice before we were willing to stand up again. Eventually we made our way back to the parking lot, said our goodbyes and drove off into what Arizona is most truly famous for: an unbeatable sunset.
By: Michael Fisher
Photos: Cody Howard
Look for the video of this epic 1st descent in the much anticipated spring 09 release: Kayak Session Magazine presents: THE RISEN SUN, a HuckinHuge Film
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