Rio Baker, Chile

Rio Baker, WOW!

So let's start this story from the beginning. I was asked by Marcus if I wanted to go to the Rio Baker, the only real information I knew about the Baker was that it was HUGE, so my obvious reaction was, "YES!" For a week I trained on the Futaleufu, trying to get mentally prepared for the biggest white water In the Southern Hemisphere. The morning we were to leave I find out that Marcus our trip leader isn't even going to go; with this information I became immediately apprehensive. The success of our adventure seemed... very vulnerable. Marcus was the only one in the group that had been to the Baker before; this mission was getting harder, and more entertaining by the moment.

The Spider Van  Anyone who knows the old CRC (Colorado Rivers and Creeks) book knows that any of the write-ups with spiders printed on the page are special. Some of those write-ups have almost unattainable put ins, some have ill placed wood, some have scary rapids, and some have horrible hike outs, but any time you see a spider you know it is going to be a true adventure. The van that we were about to climb into to go on a 8 day 1,400 kilometer drive on Chile's international highway (which is nothing but dirt, and a lane and a half wide) had a spider sticker, smack dab in the middle of the hood, I should have known better.


beware of spiders

The group slowly convened and we piled more and more equipment in, and on, the Spider Van. In total we had five kayakers, one girlfriend, and a driver. The first day of driving was constantly interrupted by unexpected stops: a flat tire, extra fuel, boats falling off . . .  We got our selves off to a slow and very entertaining start.


There was some pretty amazing scenery at some of those unexpected stops.


That first night we camped at a beautiful lake.

Back in the van, back on the road, we headed south for half a day and stopped in Coihaiqlue to stock up on food, beer, and a new used tire. Then we found out that the night before there was an earthquake 8.8 on the Richter scale; the second biggest earth quake ever recorded, and in perspective not very far away. Everyone in the group dispersed to get on the internet and tell family and friends that they were ok, and to check on our friends that were closer to the epicenter. If that wasn't enough entertainment the transmission started sounding really bad; it was definitely necessary to fix the problem but it was getting late, so we spent the night. The next morning we were off to the mechanics for a little fabrication and welding. The Spider Van got repaired again, and we were finally moving south again.


The view just outside of Tranquilo looking across Logo Carrera

The next stop was Tranquilo for food, and an amazing view across lake Carrera. We jumped back in the van only to realize yet another tire was loosing air rapidly, we slapped on the spare (that was also low on air), drove across the street to air up the tire and the police rolled up right behind us. It took a while to get the full story, but one month earlier our driver was pulled over by the police and given a stern warning for driving without the proper vehicle paper work (at this point in the trip, it made total sense that the van was not properly licensed.) Those same police were now right behind us and eyeing us hard. We waited and waited, the police took off and this was our chance to hightail it out of the little town. We got a couple hundred yards out of town and the Spider Van lost brake pressure. I looked under the vehicle and saw brake fluid running out of the brake caliper, here we go again. We pulled the tire off and I realized that the brake pad on the inside of the caliper, had fallen off and the brake pad on the outside was paper thin. Back into town to find a mechanic, and we found a great one. The mechanic actually retrofitted an existing pad to fit on the Spider Van. This repair cost us another night, and we didn't get going again until the next midday, and actually made some good distance. Our next stop was in Bertrand for the last minute supplies. Bertrand is the city at the top of the Baker, there the water drains from the lake and heads into the canyon. We drove along the twisting flat water of the canyon for a while; then we were there, 700 plus kilometers, four days, countless unexpected stops, and we were finally at the first rapid.

The water is a beautiful green-blue, with tons of sediment from the glaciers that feed it. The first rapid is aww inspiring. The preferred line is down the left hand side, and then you can choose a small slide, or a stout 10 foot boof. What you don't want is the middle of this rapid, the middle contains a 20 plus foot tall wave-hole that drops directly into a 30 foot pour-over. We hiked back up to the Spider Van and continued the scouting. The Scouts were difficult, we hiked thru thick brush and down steep embankments. With all of this hiking our best vantage was still a few hundred feet above the water level. We looked at the second rapid, it was half a mile long, but had simple directions. (Right of that 30 foot deep hole, back to the left of that 100 foot wide lateral, then back to the middle thru that stuff that looks like the ocean in a hurricane.) All I could think was those waves are going to be a lot bigger when I am sitting in the middle of them. As we hiked in to scout the third big rapid, I noticed the group was really sprawling out, some people weren't even scouting, my trust in the group was dwindling fast. We got back in the van and discussed what we had seen. There was some talk of putting on that night, it was 5:30 pm and there was lots of light left, but I had no faith that if something went wrong that it could be cleaned up before night fall. I was quickly out voted... Zach agreed with my logic and was also very skeptical of the groups ability of good judgment. The two of us decided it would be a safer option to stay off the water. We watched the other three paddlers bomb off the first drop, the Baker quickly showed it's power; all three of the paddlers had wildly different lines, the water was pushy. As they came down thru the other two big rapids, there tiny kayaks finally put the true size of the Baker in perspective. We cruised back to camp and had a good dinner, Zach and I were happy with our decision on not paddling, but very excited for the next day.

I awoke calm and well rested, no scary big water dreams, thank god. It didn't take long for Zach and I to get fired up. We quickly ate a little food downed some water and jumped back in the Spider Van to go back up to the put in. I got to the edge of the water spotted my "land (water) marks", got in my boat and had a wonderful line on the first rapid. The rest of the boys slowly came down, with a myriad of lines. Zach ended up getting pushed way too far towards the middle and tucked under what might be the nastiest hole I have ever seen, Jacob did almost the same thing. I think the friendliness of the hole inspired Aniol to try the right line. Aniol slipped thru the upper waves and then got violently surfed in the giant hole at the bottom, a quick beating, a little down time, and he flushed.


Jacob a bit too far right

Fun Tickets Think carnival amusement ride coupons, a metaphor I use when running and or messing up big rapids. You earn fun tickets all the time, you can borrow them, lend them, and steel them, but all big rapids take at least a couple. I spent 4 or 5 running the first rapid clean, the rest of the boys were burning thru fun tickets at an alarming rate.

The group was definitely split on how to run the rapids; the group that ran it the night before wanted to scout again. Zach and I on the other hand were confident in our lines, and believed the best way to run these huge rapids was tight and fast. I looked at Zach smiled and paddled right into the second rapid. It was huge, I got to the right side of the river and looked for my first key feature the 50 foot wide 30 foot deep hole that took up the entire left side of the river. I flew down the tongue and past by the huge hole, I knew it was just getting started. The boily mess after the hole lasted 300 yards, and was full on. There was random rogue waves, and the boils off the walls were super pushy. I fought hard to get back to the left and avoid the 100 foot wide lateral that was coming off the right wall, as soon as I cleared the lateral it was back to the middle to start the brawl.


Aniol catching air off the corner of the huge lateral

There was huge laterals, and rogue waves everywhere, I got picked up on a random wave and thrown to the left. I cranked out a few more strokes, and was hit by another random wave-hole, I was rolled, and rolled back up. I did a quick look around and got rolled again. This time I snapped up super quick, looked over my shoulder and saw a huge hole. Wham bam swirl, swirl, roll up, clear the eyes and straight into another hole, and this one was violent. The water grabbed at my paddle it felt like it was going to get torn from my finger tips, and this is when I heard thunder. Ca-boom! it was loud underwater, the noise came from my right hand and I felt the paddle give way. Shit, I felt around and figured out which of the pieces of my paddle was longer, let go of the smaller end, swapped the blade to my stronger hand, re-indexed what was left of the paddle, and rolled up. There is no way I am going to be able to get anywhere with half a paddle, and the river was not thru with me yet. Again and again the waves crushed me, I rolled two more time and the O2 sensor in my head was sending the I need air NOW alarm. At this point the river does what it does best, humbles. I got tossed into another nasty hole and that was that, time for air. I stood up in my boat, rotated around, and instantly grabbed the stern grab handle, and breathed in the much needed oxygen I was looking for. I was now swimming in the biggest rapid of my life, easily one of the top 10 worst places to swim ever; flush drowning seemed very real. I held on tight to the stern of my boat, and kicked my feet ferociously, trying to keep my head near the surface of the river. The water was too strong. I was getting tossed around, and all I could really do was time breaths as not to breath in water. Then the river sucked me down, deep down in an eddy line, and all I could think was, at least this means I am close to an eddy. Resurfacing I cleared my eyes and saw the group moving towards me. They were a hundred yards away or more and I was feeling really tired already. I finally grabbed the stern of another paddlers boat, and ditched my boat, I knew it wasn't over yet. Another half mile of nasty eddy lines, a small class 4 rapid, and we were finally close to shore. I ditched the stern of the boat that was trying to pull me in, and swam the last 50 feet to shore. My throat burned my whole body was acidic, I spent a whole roll of fun tickets, but I was alive.

I had been brought to the right side of the river, the side away from the road. My boat camera and the small part of my paddle that had been rescued up stream of me had all been taken to the river's left side, the side of the river next to the road. The group was pretty unorganized people didn't know where others were. I spotted Zach upstream and immediately gave him the pat on the head letting him know that I was ok. It took a while but the guys were able to ferry my boat and a break down paddle over to me. I hopped back in my boat took a couple strokes, cleared my head, smiled at Zach, and headed straight into the third rapid. Every one has there own way of dealing with stress, mine is a calm breath and straight back in to the fire.

The third rapid is no slouch. The river makes a hard left hand turn and there is a eddy on the right that looks just shy of impossible to paddle out of, to top it off there is a huge wave-hole at the top. The right hand side of the wave-hole is a wave and the left is a nasty hole. I was right on the tail of Zach and I saw him drop down the tongue. Then I was down in the trench and he was 30 feet above me cresting the gigantic wave. The swim obviously hadn't scared me too much, as I aimed for the absolute tallest part of the wave. The wave surged while I was on it and as I reached the top I was tossed end over end right off the peak.


Aniol trying to take the corner of a huge feature


Aniol looking small in one of the pressure waves

I snapped a roll, braced against the next giant pressure hole and then slipped thru the exit slot on the left into the calm water. All of the paddlers regrouped and we paddled down thru the huge whirlpools and crazy eddy lines. There was one more good sized rapid before our camp-take out. The communication was spectacularly bad for this rapid and Zach ended up having an unnecessary, entertaining line. We paddled through another mile of whirlpools and got to camp.

The groups original plan was to continue down stream through the third gorge. Zach confronted me and said that he was rather disappointed in the teams ability to do anything safely and I couldn't agree more. Zach and I got out right then and there and called the Baker done. We had traveled 700 kilometers in a broken down dusty van and paddled four rapids, we were already out of fun tickets.

The other part of the group ate food and put back on; we met up with them down stream, and heard stories that confirmed our lack of trust. Back in the Spider Van for the long, dusty, bumpy ride back to Futaleufu.

Lessons learned or at least reaffirmed,
1 Watch out for spiders, BE AFRAID!
2 Bring an extra roll of fun tickets.
3 Don't put on too late.
4 Make sure your team is competent.

A huge shout out to Zachariah Campbell, he is a great paddling and traveling partner.


Four months of traveling in South America has been amazing, and exhausting. I am looking forward to a little down time as I travel back to the states.
Chris Baer

Futaleufu, Chile

Futaleufu,

The infamous Rio Futaleufu, turned out to be one fun wave train. There are a lot of sections to the river, allowing for some spicy lines if you are looking for them. Overall, I have to say it was just good clean fun, after months of creak boating it did feel good to be able to sink my whole paddle blade in the water. That being said, big volume river running has never really been my thing. It is fun and all but it is hard for me to see the challenge when I can be 10 feet off my line and still be ok.
What I did know was that I was heading to the Baker in a few days and it was time to do some training on this big water.


Gael charging the lateral


Look close, or double click Gael is in the depths of Thrown room


Gael on the huge tongue into TNT


Gael at the confluence


I went for a bike ride one day and was greeted with this amazing moon shot


did I mention the views are amazing


These clouds, were soo colorful and seemed to play along with me.

Well that is all for Futa, this place really is pretty.
Stay tuned in the Baker write up is coming soon and it is BIG.

Chris Baer

Chaiten, dolphins, and ocean surf

Three months in South America and I decided to stop by the Futaleufu. As soon as I reached Futa I was introduced to some soon to be friends. Marcos was the one with the game plan, he showed off pictures of dolphins, sea lions, surf waves, and a creek all to be accessed by a friend that had a sea worthy boat. So without hesitation we celebrated a friends birthday and proceeded to wake up early and a little hazy. We piled into a pickup and a van both WAY over loaded, and started the trip to Chaiten.


Loading up the rigs

Chaiten is a ghost town now days, there was a pretty big volcanic explosion that covered the town in a couple feet of ash just last year.


The Volcano looked ominous

We made are way through Chaiten, and to the boat, it looked a little smaller then I remembered it in the photos. We all piled our gear in and on the boat and headed south. We traveled for an hour or so and arrived in rainy conditions to the boat owners homestead.


Cruising back to the homestead

The homestead was pretty built up, two different houses, some out buildings and a handful of beached boats. The owner offered up his second house and we happily excepted. There was food, there was drinks, and there where a ton of stories going through the very eclectic group. The next morning we woke to parting clouds, we piled back on the boat and headed even further south. During the boat ride we saw dolphins, penguins, and sea lions, the group was stirring with excitement.


we actually surfed with these guys, they loved showing off


The Sea Lions seemed a little annoyed with us and made a lot of noise

We finally set anchor and looked in on a ugly looking ocean break flowing directly into a rock jumble. The raft got inflated, kayakers got suited up and seal launched off the boat into the ocean, and slowly almost every one migrated to the beach. There were a few of us that looked at the break and went straight in. The break was definitely a little sketchy, and the biggest waves headed toward a huge rock, sometimes you surfed right and sometimes you surfed left, but the rock was always in play. The waves were actually really good and there was more then a few times that 4 or 5 of us caught the same wave laughing, spinning , and blunting towards the rock. While paddling out one time I had three dolphins pass me, turn around and surf the wave right in front of me back toward the beach. The group was stoked the stores were coming true, and we just got done surfing good ocean waves with dolphins. We packed up and paddled out to the boat and made our way back to our borrowed house for the second night. Again we ate, and planned for the creek mission the next day.


The View from above the homestead

We awoke, repacked for the creek mission jumped in the boat and headed into a cove. Deep in the cove was the outlet of the river and the boat headed straight up the fjord. We made our way further and further up the fjord, the water depth was getting shallow, and there were submerged trees everywhere, I couldn't believe how far up the fjord we had made it. We finally set anchor, suited up, and headed to the ruff fishing trial that headed up the creek. We hiked, and hiked, and hiked, and there was no end in sight. We crossed sketchy bridges, crossed creeks, attained up the main channel, and bush whacked our way up the creek.


One of the sketchier creek crossings, that log was slick as shit

Five hours into the hike the group's moral was supper low, and the decision was made that we would not make it to the "class 5 section". We turned tail and cruised down the creek in under 45 minutes splashing through three great class 4 rapids. Back to the house for some more food, and I collapsed from exhaustion the lack of good food and the long hike had taken there toll. I woke up the next morning feeling well rested and we made our way back to Chaiten. This is where the story turns to party, we all reached "civilization" the barren ghost town of Chaiten. We bought snacks and beer and prepared to drive back to Futa, when Marcos's dad invited us in for an asado. We ate, drank heavily, went to the beach, drank more, and then Mark Anthony came on the TV. The next thing you know there is singing dancing and a lot more drinking. We woke up the next morning haggard, and finally got in the van, only four hours of bumpy roads to get us back to Futa.
There are some trips that stand out because of the white water, some about the destination, and some about the friends. This trip was all about surfing in the ocean with dolphins.


The view from the beach

Now I am back in Futa training for the Baker, one of the biggest whitewater rivers anywhere
Chris Baer life is good, and even better when you get to surf with dolphins

Bariloche, Mansa, Matias is a "bad influence"

Sorry for the ridiculous title but it is deserving, in this update I will show off some cool shots from Bariloche, and talk about how Matias is such a "bad influence" taking "dumb gringos" into the amazing Mansa Gorge.


just another amazing view

First off, Bariloche, I stayed at Refugio Patagonia,


a great hostel with an amazingly friendly owner.


Cheap, easy, and better food then any place in Chile


The brake wall of Bariloche


This place really is beautiful

The Manso Gorge,
First off the logistics are hard, it is a long shuttle and technically it is forbidden to paddle the river. So find yourself a local guide, I was lucky enough to know Matias Nunez from the states and he was more then happy to take me into the gorge. It starts off with a Bang, "the monster" a 40+ foot drop with a very odd hole at the lip, reminded me of a super pissed off Punch Bowl Falls. I came in hot, boofed hard and dove right into the hole, it swallowed me and I remember thinking hang on to that paddle, and then waiting and waiting and waiting for the thaploosh of entering into the landing pool.


Chris Baer at the lip of the "Monster"

The Monster, is an absolutely amazing 40footer, super dynamic and with plenty of hazards. Matias and I finished our high fives and turned are attention to the next seven hours of paddling, scouting, and portaging. It starts off with some stout ledges, intermittent with large pools


Matias Nunez at the lip of one of the first big boofs

Soon the pools turn to more continues rapids and you enter into the "gorge" once in here be careful, there is a stout hole that has dished out some beatings and a rowdy 50ish footer. We ran a chunk of the gorge and then Matias showed me the far left line. With our boats on are shoulders we slowly maneuvered through the dense jungle, trying not to accidental run a big waterfall in the middle of nowhere. After we found the 50 footer we put back in the river and routed through some more great drops.


Matias charging a HUGE hole


Matias cruising threw the triple drop


Matias in the "tricky rapid"

the "tricky rapid" had my number, I came threw a tight slot into a funny backwash, and immediately starting getting spun around. Instead of going with the spin I fought it and found myself momentarily pinned between two huge rocks in the middle of most of the current. I quickly shifted weight and did some kind of miracle paddle stroke and the boat came unpinned, I then got to run the slot in the picture above "switch".


the take out

So the river dumps right into this magnificent lake, If it is sunny out you can usually flag down a motor boat and get towed in. In our case it had been raining all day and there wasn't a sole on the lake. We paddled and paddled and an hour and a half latter we reached the truck, there leaned against the truck was the ranger. Matias looked at me and said don't worry I will confuse him. The ranger and Matias who at this point are on first name bases(Matias actually gave him a fake name and the ranger called him by it, ((supper funny)) started chatting about how it is bullshit that the river is closed, and there is better ways to protect the land. Matias also stands behind a pressident that the original ranger not only allowed them to paddle the river but offten times would drive his motor moat to the far end of the lake and pick up the kayakers. The ranger in turn told Matias he was a bad influence bringing dumb gringos onto the river. Me being the dumb non spanish speaking gringo responded to the ranger's questions with "no Nintendo porfavor" a couple minutes later a fake name and passport number, we were on our way. Matias is truly working hard to try to resolve the access issue on Manso as well as a couple other gems in the area. Until these access issues are sore up, Matias's opinion was to continue to do the runs just be a little sneaky.

Another adventure by Chris Baer

A couple side notes, those of you that really watch this stuff will have noticed that I have been paddling a Werner Player paddle for the last month or so, I think Werner's are fine, but they don't hold a candle compared to a Blunt Family Paddle, do to a nasty hole and 3 years of abuse my orriginal BFP broke, due to operator error, I like trying to pull myself out from under 15 feet of water with a single paddle stroke. That being said, I have delt with some crazy shipping arangements and now am paddling a BFP again, I couldn't be happier. So go to the side bar and click on Kennys site, he will build you the best paddle, guide stick, oar, dorry, or one of these

check it out at Blunt Family Paddles.

Secondly I just got Lightroom from Adobe, it is rad.

Road trip part 2, The Gol Gol,

This is actually the second try at the Gol Gol, a couple weeks back we showed up and decided there was way too much water. This time there was just a little less. The team, Kyle, Steven, Jake and I got suited up in our wet gear and hiked in to the first drop. Everyone was tired from the lack of good sleep the night before, (half the group slept in a truck and the other half in a bus stop). After a quick inspection of the first drop no one was interested in a big jungle hike to run a 15 foot boof. We put on below the first drop and cruised threw some fun class 4 towards the next horizon line. The whole run is made up of gigantic pour overs, that lead into class 4, and then back into other giant pour overs. With all of the big drops on this run pouring over it is really important to delay your boof stroke, waiting till the drop truly goes vertical to take that last powerful stroke.


Kyle getting his late boof


Steven dropping into an interesting flume, this thing was cool, both sides of the slide where just exploding, have to find the sliver of water that makes it through


Jake with a big boof

We bombed off a couple drops, and quickly arrived at an especially gnarly looking 30 ft drop. After scouting my line I gave myself a 50/50 chance of being where I wanted to be through the entrance rapid. If I was spot on from there I gave my self a 60% chance of sticking the boof over a nasty hole. To make it worse the hole was recirculating under the right wall, all of this equaled a no go in my head. Everyone in the group quickly came to the same decision and we raised the boats out of the canyon, through the jungle, and put them back in at the base of that very respectable rapid. A quick paddle brought us to the top of the 50 footer. "This thing is immense", easily a 1,000 cfs bouncing threw a narrow slot. The perfect line is through a nasty lead in, over a roller, and down 20 feet where the right side of the current engulfs you. Then you fall another 30 feet into the most aerated landing zone ever. Kyle looked at this drop for just a few minutes, walked up, got in his boat, and paddled into the monster. Kyle had an amazing line, and made this huge drop look really good to the rest of us.


Kyle styling the monster


Steven getting swallowed

One after the next, everyone donated themselves to the massive volume of water, letting themselves get engulfed and flying into the landing zone. In the pool of the landing zone everyone rolled up laughing, "IT FELT LIKE I JUST LANDED IN A CLOUD". As quick as it started it ended, we exited the canyon, jumped in the truck, and rallied back to town for some much need food.


Kyle reflecting on another stout

Chris Baer

Florian, road trip part 1

Paddling with the kids,
The adventure continues, one group leaves another shows up, the group dynamics change again. Some for the better some for the worse, but always entertaining. My latest adventure to the Florian and Gol Gol was with a extremely young group of paddlers. The group consisted of Kyle Hull age 20, Jake Greenbaum age 21, Steven Forester age 18, and my self Chirs Baer at age 31. With a big age and experience difference you know there is going to be some major differences in group dynamics. With as much deference as there was, we have in common something much more important, we are all good paddlers, and we were going to tackle some great rivers.

We rented another truck this time from Rodrigo Tuschner, (Rodrigo is the active partner and face of Kayak Pucon). The fact that we just rented a kayak vehicle made me a little nervous (kayakers aren't known for there meticulous vehicles). My suspicious about the vehicle were confirmed immediately when the rest of the team brought the truck over to the coffee house. The first things the crew said was that Rodrigo said "don't be going over 90k, and check the oil, don't ruin my shit".

So the journey began all four of us pilled in the truck and rallied at 90 kph for, four hours. We stopped for gas and the truck didn't start after we filled it. So, we simply push started the truck again and were on our way. Once we got to the Florian, I strategically parked the truck so we could easily roll start it down a good sized hill.

Once at the Florian we started our hike in, crossed the bridge and put on. This time on the Florian the gauge was reading 45 cm. This is 10 cm less water then last time we where at the Florian. Immediately I knew that the 50 footer was going to kick a little more, and the double drop might be runnable. We headed into the canyon and ran the first fun drop, everyone had smooth lines.


Jake in the first rapid


Steven boofing through the first rapid

Then as we were headed through some in-between class 4+ Kyle got pinned, pinned bad. His whole boat was under water, I was only feet away but unable to help. I had immediate thoughts of bad accidents I had been around before, but Kyle was wasting no time. Kyle was fighting hard, pushing off of rocks squirming around, and plan old "giviner hell". Quickly the water surged the boat shifted and the water was curtaining right over Kyle's head. It was at this point Kyle finally decided to get out of his boat. Kyle was very calm and precise about his movements. He got his knees up, and in one motion stood up in his cockpit and jumped into the pool below. A few minutes later Kyle was able to reach into the drop and unpin his boat. Once again we were on our way.


Kyle and his nasty pin rapid

The next drop is the double drop that we portaged the last time I was in the canyon. This time it was looking a little less scary and one by one we decided to hire it up. There was a myriad of lines from Jake's far left, to my far right, Kyle's underwater, and Steven's over rotating. Everyone was treated to a different experience, and everyone was ex-static to run a truly difficult rapid.


Jake slipping into the mealy


Kyle boofing the 20 ft exit drop


Steven over rotating off the bottom 20

Next rapid up is a fun 20 ft slide everyone just bombed down and that brought us to the 50 footer. Like I had said in a previous article, this 50 footer is not clean. There are flakes of rock the whole way down the drop looking to grab your boat, and flip, tip, or just slam you around. The group was solid, everyone came over the lip and road the drop "proud" (sitting tall in your boat and anticipating, the unexpected).
Riding proud gives you the best chance of correcting what ever those flakes in the drop decide to do to you, this time. Everyone dealt with thee bounces and had relatively smooth lines with low impacts at the bottom. From the base of the 50 footer it is just another couple hundred feet to the take out.


Kyle at the lip of the 50 footer


Steven in the depths riding proud

The take out trail SUCKS, it is at a 70 degree pitch, is all loose mud and rock, and covered in bamboo shoots that get tangled in every thing. Once on top of the ridge we tried a different technique to get back to the truck. We hiked river right up a old road to the bridge we put in on, across the bridge and back down to the truck. This route is definitely the better option. With this less brutal hiking option, my overall rating of this run has now been greatly improved. So if you are looking for a park and hike and stout hucking and then a decent hike back this is actually a damn good run.

Please remember there are hot-springs at the put in, they cost a little money and be nice to the land owner, the access here could easily be taken away.

p.s.
After the Florian the truck started and we went to another park and huck. The water was too high and we tried to leave, this time the truck didn't start. We tried push starting it, and we tried again, and again, and we had pushed the car the better part of a mile. During this process I popped the hood and found one of the positive leads had come loose, with trusty multi tool and gorilla tape in hand I got the lead jimmied back on. The truck still didn't start. Finally a guy gave us a hand by towing the truck, and after two minutes with the clutch out if finally fired up.


Our truck broken down in the middle of the road

We where on our way again, this time to the Gol Gol, as we drove it got late, and started raining. We were approaching the Gol Gol, at two in the morning, and it became apparently clear we needed sleep. I started starring out the window and then I saw it, a little covered bus stop with just enough room for two of us to sleep under. We slept in the stinky wet and slug infested bus stop, for a few hours and then headed to the Gol Gol. When we arrived at the Gol Gol, we were tired, hungry, and putting on soaking wet gear. We were about to have a great day.

Chris Baer hungry, homeless and happy in Chile.