| After meeting up with Howard
Kirkland in Bedford, Va. around 2:30 pm, Friday, Feb.18th, Jeff
Oxley and I began our Kentucky journey in Jeff's Blazer. As we
carpooled over to Blacksburg to pick up Chris Gorman, we
familiarized ourselves with the many local creeks and rivers we MAY
have the ability (though not the water) to attempt. After Howard
picked up Chris, our two-and-a-half vehicles made the mad dash to
Lexington, Ky. in record time. It is not a long drive, about equal
to a trip to the N.O.C. or the Ocoee. (The one-half vehicle was the
trailer on which the Shredder, fully assembled, and 2 kayaks rode.
Howard was ready for anything!) Chris brought his play-yak and Jeff
and I had our kayaks.
We had decided to share a hotel room for the entire stay, due
mainly to the forecast temperatures in the low twenties. Upon
arriving in Lexington, and knowing our room would be there
regardless, we headed directly to the NPFF Presenters Party, about
fifteen minutes south of town. After parking in the front yard of a
house at the top of a hill around 10 PM, we were shuttled down a
road reminiscent of the Cheat river take-out (i.e. very steep,
rocky, and laced with a variety of potholes and washouts). This road
led to a modern lodge, sitting by itself at the edge of a low cliff
overlooking Boone Creek. Here we were met by Dave Margavage, the
festival coordinator, who made us feel welcome, along with dozens of
other folks from all over the East Coast, in various states of
inebriation.
There was plenty to do: a keg of beer, the best liquor, Red Bull
chaser, last year's video entries and winners on the big-screen
television, a complete dinner smorgasbord, a hot tub, and a raging
bonfire down next to the creek. Laughter and spirited discussion
spilled out into the night, as we sat around the fire and watched
more and more people come down. The conversation turned
belligerently toward college sports, and knowing the volatile nature
of such content (as well as the proximity of a very dark, cold creek
just a few feet away!), we all climbed the stairs back to civility,
and caught the next-to-last shuttle back to our vehicles. Chris
decided to stay with some friends at the cabin since he would be at
the Film Fest all day Saturday, while we were paddling. He had won a
free entry into the Festival's Amateur Division by winning a video
contest at the Tallulah Gorge Festival last year.
After settling into our room, Howard and Jeff broke out the
acoustic guitars and entertained the place for a couple of hours
before exhaustion finally got the better of us all. With a little
practice together, the club may not need to rent entertainment for
our future events.
We ate breakfast at Hardee's Saturday morning, and discussed our
options. Due to the low water levels, there was only one river
nearby with enough water to paddle, so with map in hand we were off
to set shuttle. The Elkhorn River is very popular; so popular that
we were charged 6 bucks (2 bucks each) to park and launch at the
"legal" put-in. The take-out is owned by American Whitewater (your
dues at work!), and was furnished with two changing booths and lotsa
parking! It also had a large cache of doggy-doo camouflaged amongst
the grass. Jeff had to wash his shoes for ten minutes after we took
out!!.
The book calls Elkhorn Creek a class II-III. although it is
really a weak class II at best, with a whole lotta flatwater,
although with a lot more water it may rate a II-III. It was a very
long 6 miles! Howard opted correctly for the smaller yak.
Just a mile from the put-in, we portaged a low (three-foot) dam
at the Jim Beam Distillery, after sampling some of the fine spirits
they were offering from the bank (just pulling your leg).
We seemed to be the only boaters out on this magnificent,
windless day of sun and sixty-degree temperatures, as we sloooowly
made our way along limestone cliffs fifty or more feet high and
plumb full of caves and holes and waterfalls. Many cliffs show
flowstone formations oozing out of the cracks and "freezing". The
geology in the area is awesome, as is the overall scenery, though
the gradient is pretty mild. Near the beginning of the section we
spied a large Blue Heron, which accompanied us downriver for a ways.
During the run we stopped occasionally to stretch, eat, shoot
video, and take pictures. When we finally made the take-out the sun
was sinking fast, so we sped back to the hotel to get ready for the
evenings proceedings.
After losing the Shredder/kayak tow-behind, we hopped in
Howard's' Excursion and made our way to the Hyatt Convention Center.
I couldn't help but notice how clean and well maintained the city of
Lexington was, at least downtown. The natives were splendidly
amiable and helpful during our entire visit, and we were soon
watching the very latest whitewater adventures from around the world
on the big screen in an auditorium, adjacent, yet separate from, the
band/vendor area.
After watching an hour's worth of amateur footage, including
Chris's entry (very impressive though the expletive-riddled
background rap music caught more than a few viewers off guard), Kent
Ford, the guest speaker, narrated a short video that he had put
together. He had obtained some old (circa 1920) black and white film
footage of folks doing amazing things with a canoe, from sloshing
water out after a capsize, to rolling the canoe 720 degrees while
standing on the gunwales, to placing the bow onto a dock three to
four feet above the water, using their weight, and walking up to the
dock, then pulling the canoe up after them! And I thought I had seen
it all, but I guess NOT!
Afterwards we HAD to eat, but when we made our way down to the
first floor food court, we were saddened to find they had closed.
Not to be foiled; our stomachs must be placated. I had noticed a
classy place called Desha's (pronounced dee-Shay's) diagonally
across the street from the Hyatt. It was the only place to eat as
far as our eyes could see. As soon as we walked in and looked around
I made sure I had my wallet (this is gonna hurt)! I got the
fish and chips, and I forget what Jeff and Howard had, but without a
doubt, the food was exquisite! I even got a compliment from Howard
for my choice of eateries.
After paying the check, we waddled back to the Hyatt to watch the
remainder of the contest entries. I distinctly remember two videos
that were awesome. One showed a group of hair boaters sliding down a
long undulating rock slide with a thin film of water for
lubrication. These idiots hit the top of the first rise at 40-50
mph, and unceremoniously launched themselves airborne into a shallow
pool, strewn with rocks of varying sizes. One dude flipped and slid
down on his face.OUCH! The other video showed incredible carnage at
Oceana Rapids on the Tallulah Gorge; specifically collisions and
near misses at The Thing, a large squarish chunk of granite
in the middle of the drop. One raft flipped in mid-air and sent its'
luckless victims sprawling on the the rocks twenty feet below.
Canoes and kayaks fared no better.
After the videos were over, we meandered around, and after
refilling our drinks at the event bar, we visited the vendors (who
were packing up to leave), looking for tee-shirts commemorating the
event for souvenirs, but they were all sold out. Next year buy
first, watch later.
For the remainder of the evening we and the many other guests
grooved to the Grateful Dead cover band, Born Cross-eyed.
They even had 2 drummers! I was so impressed with their qualitythat
when I got home I sent an E-mail to Dave Margavage, expressing as
much, and relaying my hope to see them again at the Russell Fork
Rendezvous this fall.
The day's activities caught up with us around 12:30am and we
reluctantly left for a good night's sleep back at the Red Roof Inn.
Chris, although his entry didn't win, opted to stay with his friends
at the Lodge down at Boone creek.
Sunny Sunday morning saw us on the way back to the Hyatt to pick
up Chris, and due to very low water levels, it was decided, over a
Waffle house breakfast, to check out the Red River Gorge and the
Daniel Boone National Forest on the way home. Having visited this
area before, Howard volunteered to serve as guide. Today was my turn
to drive Jeff's' Blazer, so Jeff became navigator for the remainder
of our adventure.
 The Red River Gorge is a unique geological area, which contains
rugged mountains, tall red sandstone cliffs, and over one hundred
naturally-formed stone arches, where wind and weather have eroded
through the softer strata beneath the harder stone of the ridge
tops. The Gorge itself is best viewed from the river, but with no
water for paddling, we opted for a brief auto tour of the
ridge tops, stopping at various points of interest along the way,
with a short hike to the Sky Bridge as the finale.
This loop trail is only a mile long, but it can give you a very
good idea of the whole area's geology. The hike carries you down an
extra wide (for lack of better words) "sidewalk," carved into the
soft sandstone, which is literally covered with hundreds of vandals'
initials. If you walk off the edge (there are no safety rails),
you'll need a life-flight to the hospital (if you're lucky). The
path bends back on itself and gently slopes downward. There are
tall, sheer cliffs everywhere. A few hundred feet brings you to the
bottom of the Sky Bridge, a naturally eroded fifty-foot long
arch, about thirty to forty feet high. We had walked across the top
of it and hadn't even noticed it! There is a smaller arch on the
left, separated from the main arch by a small tapered column, but
still part of the main arch. You can see where some pinheads have
been chipping away at the soft sandstone at the bottom of the
column; some day, sadly, they will succeed in collapsing the arch,
since there is no protection whatsoever against such stupidity.
After taking some pictures and video footage, we continued
to marvel at the cliffs and caves as we made our way back to the
parking lot. At this point, with the afternoon waning, we bid
farewell to Kentucky and began the relatively short drive back. I
followed Howard as far as I could, as he continued to Blacksburg
with Chris. Jeff and I made our way through increasing snow flurries
to arrive back home around 9:00 PM., a civilized hour at that.
All in all, we had a great time, with great folks, in the great
outdoors, and next year, I'll have a video entry to submit as well.
Hope to see some of you in it!
-Lee Hart |
|
Jeff Oxley, Lee Hart and Howard Kirkland were the
only BRRR members to attend this exciting event. The rest of you
just missed out altogether. Oh, well, there's always next year.
Lee and Jeff, carpooling in Jeff's vehicle, and convoying with
Howard, left Lynchburg on Friday, February 25, around 2:30 PM,
heading to Blacksburg, where they pocked up Chris Gorman, a
Freshman at VPI and hard-core vertical creek kayaker, who had a
video entered in the competition. Chris rode with Howard, and the
crew arrived in Lexington, KY around 9:30 that evening.
The NPFF were throwing a party at Boone Creek Lodge, which turned
out to be a very elegant multi-level rambling rustic edifice,
perched on the brow of a limestone cliff overlooking sizeable but
placid Boone Creek, at the bottom of a steep-walled valley. The
road leading in was steep, narrow and rutted, with several sharp
switch-backs. The guests were being shuttled between the lodge and
the parking lot (about 1/2 mile from the lodge) by a Subaru
Outback with barely enough ground clearance to get through. Howard
remarked "If I see any albino banjo-pickers, I'm getting the hell
out." This was followed by several inane remarks such as "This
river don't go to Aintry," and worse. At the Lodge,
we were greeted by friendly folks, massive quantities of great
food and beverage, which were being catered by a bevy of very
easy-to-look-at young ladies. After stuffing ourselves, we
meandered down to the creekside bonfire for an hour or so of deep
intellectual discussion of such things as religion, philosophy,
politics and the meaning of life. Then having solved the world's
greatest problems, we headed to our motel. Saturday
morning, Lee, Jeff and Howard launched their kayaks for a very
long (Lee says six miles, but they must be Texas miles) paddle on
Elkhorn Creek, a solid Class I-II semi-scenic stream flowing
north-westerly around the east side of Frankfort, KY.
We showed up at the Festival site shortly before 7:00 PM, in time
to watch Chris' video (a fast-paced little piece showing crazy
people doing crazy things on very steep and very rocky rivers in
Georgia, North Carolina, Tennessee and Colorado) and several even
more insane videos of kayakers running 100-plus-foot waterfalls in
Europe and Alaska. The guest speaker was Kent Ford,
producer of numerous training and recreational videos. Kent showed
excerpts of several of his videos, clips from canoeing films
dating back to the 1920's, and footage from the Olympic whitewater
events in Greece. Sunday found our group taking a
brief tour of the lovely, rugged Red River Gorge in Southeastern
Kentucky, where we viewed several of the over 100 natural stone
arches that wind and weather have carved from the native
sandstone. And then we had to go back home, but we don't want to
talk about that. |
