Attempting anything new will always provide a challenge and possibly some anxiety.  However, what is considered new can also be familiar, and what is familiar can also be new.  Finding myself in Stanley, Idaho for the second summer in a row was about as good of a set-up for any multicontinental combo move one could muster up.  With 100-year floods gracing the state with large quantities of water late into the fall, there was ample opportunity to push one’s limits paddling a kayak in what is known as the Big Water Arena.

Here we find Sir Wilbur Tinsley Stubblizer charging down the peaked out North Fork of the Payette.  Will also partook in all three stages of the Triple Crown combo move, yet again progressing his river skills by leaps and bounds with a style and intelligence smooth enough to be included in any list of the top large volume whitewater kayakers around today.   (Photo by Emily Meridith)

Whitewater is found throughout the world in varying styles, volumes and accessibility during the summer months.  Each destination has a group of paddlers who base their lives around being in that specific area they enjoy the most, during the time of year when the whitewater there is at its prime.   Here we find Freddy Coreill, Ryan Casey, Mark ChCheeny and yours truly enjoying the fruits of road and railway blast right where we want to be, right when we want to be there! (Photo by Ted Werre)

Jacob’s Ladder is one of those rapids that can stick in your brain all winter long.  You wake from dreams at night sweating from getting right banked, you day dream at work about that nose-up boof you hit with only your boys around to see, your vision blurs at a moment’s thought of the confusion only known as The Golf Course.  This photog captured me lining up the crux of Jake’s in my first run of the beast last season. (Photo Ted Werre)

16 times 3 equals 48 plus 1 times 1700 times 3 plus an extra Jakes and Golf Course equals just shy of 50 miles of kayaking in one day descending about 5280 feet with a remainder of a mostly full cube of PBR to celebrate one of the best days of kayaking Idaho has to offer.  Math can be hard…so can kayaking.

As the summer turned to fall over the Sawtooths, thoughts quickly moved toward the next step in the Triple Sec…the mighty Himalaya.  The world’s largest mountain range had been placed into the equation the night before I left North Carolina.  After going over some pictures and maps with JJ Shepherd,  Wilbur Stubbs and Issac Thomson at the Team Renegade HQ deep in the deciduous forest of the Southeast, we made plans to rendezvous in Delhi, India on October 5th, 2010.  The plan was to pull off a ten week long kayaking adventure moving east from Uttarkhand, India to Central Nepal paddling as much high class whitewater as possible with an international team hailing from both North Carolina and New Zealand.

Departing the Motherland from Southern California enabled us to swing by my main man, Kelly the Script Flippa, for a last minute dance and style consultation visit.  Big Ups to Jim, Tom and Sophie for the digs, parking, surf sessions and hospitality while in the Juanita scene! (Stubbs photo)

I’m not sure if Will or Issac retained much from Kelly’s style consultation, however upon arriving in Asia we immediately met up with Issac and Kev England to explore the sensory overload known to the world as Delhi, India. (Photo by Coop)

“Elevate your thoughts on the vibe that we brought, while we climbing we shine like a Super Bowl ring.” (Coop Photo)

After the arrival of our final two team members, JJ and Toby McDermott, we hit the road en route to the Himalayan foothills in what can only be described as one of the most eye-opening automotive rides I’ve ever experienced in my life.  This pictures illustrates the Indian perception of adequate passing room. (Photo by Coop)

From the resourcefulness of these crumb-snatchers, to the cricket pitch kids, to the village of hokie-pokiers, the kids of the Himalaya have a knack for keeping themselves entertained no matter what situation they find themselves in.  It is quite humbling to witness after you’ve spent over $1000 for a plane flight, another $100 for your kayak, paddle and gear to get on board, and a helluva lot of time organizing, researching and preparing to entertain yourself on a few silly rivers. (Photography by Coop)

“Just some more Himalayan roadside class III!” From day one, we immediately became accustomed to finding whitewater at least one or two grades higher than what we saw from the van up on the road.  Here Toby Dog and Wilbur scout out one of many large torrents encountered on our mission. (Photo by JJ)

As long as we kept driving up river valleys containing “Himalayan Roadside Class III” we continued to find ourselves putting on ultra-classic stretches of some of the most satisfying class IV-V kayaking you can imagine. Pictured above, Issac, Toby, Will and I (from bottom to top) bomb into the first rapid of the Bhagarati River.  The Bhagarati is commonly known as the source of the Ganges River, which is considered the holiest of all Indian rivers.  Getting to experience such a meaningful place to so many people in a way they would never dream of makes you feel quite privileged to say the least. (Photo by JJ)

Kids, don’t try this at home.  As a matter of fact, don’t try most of the highly skilled manuevers of Mr. Jason Jason Shepherd anywhere in the world.  This man is as widely traveled as the International Man of Mystery himself, and has the smoothest style of anyone I know when it comes to simply making it happen.  Thanks buddy, for putting it all together and stepping into the role of The Captain like the crunch knows how to make the munch lunch.

Since returning from the trip, JJ has put together a complete trip report of our mission on his own blog, Hydrothinko.  I’ve listed the posts he has completed in chronological order to assist the keen reader…highly informative…highly pictorial…highly recommended…

1. India Nepal Mission

2. The Bhagarati and Upper Mandakni

3. The Pindar River

4. From India to Nepal (Dawn of the Sport Bus Riding)

5. The Modi Khola

6. The Kali Gandaki

7. The Mighty Marsyandi

8. Humla Karnali Day 1-3

9. Humla Karnali Day 4-6

10. Humla Karnali Day 7-9

11. Humla Karnali the Last Leg

Here we find one of the two Kiwi residing Team Renegade members, Kevin England, tackling one of the many big lines of the Bhagarati River.  (Photo by JJ)  Kev came to India in the midst of finishing his post-graduate research on West Coast landslides at the University of Canterbury, as well as fresh off the sewing machine at the Cactus factory in Christchurch, NZ after recently restarting his whitewater safety gear company, Hydroscapes.  Bringing with him the first four Full On Vests off the line, we felt a lot better about dropping into some of the unknown canyons we did with the peace of mind knowing that we had “the world’s safest PFD” on our backs.

Kev was also the only one to actively post updates about our travels on the internet while in action.  Check the goodness out at…http://www.whitewater-safety.com/category/news-blog

Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers, A peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked; If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers, Where’s the peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked? (Photo by JJ)

Exploratory whitewater kayaking missions are in their golden age right now due to the photograph above.  All over the world, developing countries rich in water and gradient are cashing in on the resources blessed onto them by nature.  As kayakers, we possess an unique perspective of watersheds, rivers and the connection between human beings and the hydrosphere in which we live in. Over the upcoming years, paddlers need to emerge at the forefront of water discussions to provide a voice for speechless rivers around the world.

For more information on the value of free flowing rivers around the world, check out the California-based non-profit, International Rivers.  For information about their work in the Himalaya, navigate to their South Asia page.  This is my second international paddling trip, and each time I go abroad I am reminded of and thankful for the progressive leadership and infrastructure we already have in place here in the USA to protect the places which fill our lives full of happiness and adventure. Thanks to the work of organizations like American Whitewater, and large environmentally conscious companies such as Patagonia (who have an unique Our Common Waters program), we have the opportunity to support the initiatives we feel passionate about. (Photo by JJ)

The Reverend will now step down from the alter to present to you, Team Renegade in all its glory… (From left to right) Kev England (NZ), Issac Thomson (NZ), Brotha Laxman (India), Toby McDermott (USA), Cooper Lambla (USA), JJ Shepherd (USA), Will Stubblefield (USA).

This brother is on Team Renegade too…he just doesn’t know it yet. “We are all renegades, we have been renegades for a long time, and we will continue to be renegades.” -Toby D.

After dropping Kev off in the border town of Banbasa we continued eastbound and down first into No-man’s-land, and then finally after some serious rickshaw negotiations and a hefty (by Asian standards) Visa entrance fee, into Western Nepal.  Here we have The Captain himself settling into what would be a little over a month’s worth of freestyle transportation. (StubblePhoto)

Technically transportation really was the focus of our trip.  As a matter of fact, transportation is the focus of any kayaking adventure.  To roughly quote the great Willy Kern, “I think kayaking will always be about putting on a river, paddling down it, and then taking off.”  Profound.  Almost as profound as the scenes held within this video shot and edited by Mr. Will Stubbs.

“Ah, why like this?” Awaking in a D-Pan haze after the first of three trans-country bus rides, Team Renegade settled into its unofficial Nepalese HQ located at Ganesh’s paradise in the lakeside town of Pokhara, The New Future Way Guest House. (Photo by JJ)

Along with not having our own form of private transportation, Nepal immediately provided a harsh contrast to the undeveloped tourism style we became accustomed to in Uttarkhand.  We quickly got used to haggling down white folk bus prices while keeping an eye out for power lines, tree branches and bad men.  “Tell me I’m a bad man!” (Photo by Coop)

This was a trip of many firsts on many fronts for me, one of which included the use of porters as a means to access remote, roadless rivers.  Each time we hired these hardworking men I couldn’t help but think of how ashamed Adam Herzog would be of us.  Here we have Issac, Toby and I along with some of our Team Renegade sanctioned porters, cruising up the Modi Khola river valley with Annapurna III looming overhead. (Wilbur Photo)

It’s no secret…the Kali Gandaki got that action satisfaction, the brothers with that positive reaction!  A post about this trip would not be complete without a special thanks to some very generous folks who support grassroots kayakers getting amongst it…BIG UPS out to Marc and Simon at Riot Kayaks, (who are BACK in the game, despite the word on the street) Bryan KIrk, Josh and Kurtis at NRS, Tom and Spence at Shred Ready and finally Mike and Rich at Snapdragon Designs.  It’s trips like these where you realize that putting yourself into committing situations requires gear which you can trust your life on…Thanks for making it! (JJ Photo)

The world is small.  It’s a fact.  NASA recently discovered 68 planets larger than our earth in the Milky Way.  However, I think subcultures like the kayaking community exemplify how small our world is, more so than most NASA scientists can.  Showing up in a new corner of the world with a kayak will almost always run you into either old friends, or at least new friends who have old friends in common with you.  Pictured above is Ben Lemmond, no less than one of my best friends and a fellow childhood renegade, Ben made the trek up from Ahmadabad, India to share his renegading knowledge with us.  The ability to meet him in the chaos of the streets of Dumre (not Lumle!) was a product of the size of our earth.  Thanks for the effort and all the laughs!  Kia Kaha buddy! (Photo by JJ)

This is Toby Dog.  Toby Dog dislikes Nepali tractor rides, children, explosive diarrea, excessive talking and hangovers.  Toby Dog likes whitewater kayaking.  If it looks like Toby Dog is one of the smoothest kayakers ever to grace the Marsyandi’s water with his presence…it’s because he is.  Toby provided Team Renegade with unprecedented experience, logic and style.  You da’ man, Toby…All aboard the Toby TRAIN!!! (Photo by Stubblefield)

With just under three weeks left in the Himalaya, we moved back to the western side of the country with the intent of hitting at least one of Nepal’s classic fly-in, multi-day whitewater adventures.  Finding ourselves in Nepalgunj, (possibly the worst town any of Team Renegade have ever visited) we discovered tickets into Nepal’s most remote airstrips were more expensive than previously thought.  The resulting eddy-out in ”The Ganj” gave us time to study the guide book and map, buy food, freshen up our moustaches, rest and generally prepare for the mighty Humla Karnali…what would end up being the climax to our Asian paddling adventures. (Stubbs Photo)

It’s not like a UFO coming into town, because there are recognizable human beings piling out of the truck, and assumptions can be made about the colorful “dungas” which are toted along, however almost everywhere we found ourselves in the Himalaya we represented some type of circus rolling into the natives’ lives.  Needless to say, showing up to an airport in such a fashion isn’t any different.  (Photo by JJeezy)

“The Greatest Show on Earth” coming to a high alpine, Himalayan town near you!  (Photo by Stubbs)

On most flights, every kid wants to hang out in the cockpit, and get the pilot’s view.  However when you notice things like a completely fogged-over windscreen as the plane picks up speed for take off, or the microscopic size of the dirt strip you are about to attempt to land on…you have second thoughts about those childhood dreams.  (Coopstaphoto)

After what seemed like an eternity of preparing, negotiating, driving, flying, hiking, and projectile vomit assisted floating…we finally arrived at what we came for.  Here we find Toby Dog running what would turn out to be the entrance to the first major portage of the river.   Sometimes you are pleasantly surprised by rivers, and sometimes the river unpleasantly surprises you.  (Stubblephoto)

Utter exhaustion doesn’t really begin to describe the mood on the side of the river that evening.  It was day 2 of what we were hoping to be an 8-12 day trip, The Captain had barely been able to eat a thing for at least 36 hours and we had just finished our second rope-out-of-a-gorge-to-portage combo move of the day, (requiring the combined length of everyone’s rope and taking 2.5 hours to pull five boats out from what was thought to be quite the pleasant lunch spot).  I’ve heard the scene above described as the 1000 yard stare before…we think it looks way more hard core if yer rocking some bangin’ moustaches!  (Photo by William Tinsley)

The Humla Karnali was described by one of Himalayan whitewater’s original explorers, Mick Hopkinson, as “the most committing river I’ve ever run”.  Finding yourself in such committing situations equates to a feeling of being smaller than Alice while she’s talking to the hooka smoking caterpillar.  In a Wonderland of his own, Tobadias MacD commits to one of many monster rapids ending in what I wouldn’t neccesarily describe as a rabbit hole! (JJ Photobanger)

Mr. Issac Thomson, “The Koala” himself, experiencing a new definition of  what is known as “continuous whitewater”.  “There’s no beginning and there is no end, time isn’t present in that dimension…When we’re rocking, rolling and walking…Feels like I’m dreaming, but I’m not sleeping…” (Photo by Thor)

The Stubblizer, voted “Soul Boater of the Year” by the honorable Talifarious Werre, executing when it counts on the good morning rapid of Day 6.  (Jason Jason Photograph)

If Koalas are fuzzy, soft and cute, then whitewater on the Karnali packs a kick the size of the Italian boot.  It can be described as the dream you never knew you had, a dream which can most certainly, very possibly go bad.  But with the right attitude, crew, gear and food, it’s a mission which contains potential to brighten your mood……….Pretty sure those were Issac’s exact thoughts at this freeze still in time.  (Stubblization)

This scene originates from the longest distance I think most of us have ever covered in one day with a kayak.  It can only be described as ”the goodness…followed by the lightness…followed by the darkness.”  (Fine photography by Jason upon Jason)

Looking back on the first overnight kayak trips I ever completed, I remember one of the biggest challenges was deciding what kind of food to bring, how much, and how that weight would affect the handling of my kayak as well as stability while portaging.  These challenges were exacerbated to the maximum on the Humla due to A) the type of food available and B) the length of the trip.  Luckily due to the dense population residing in even the most remote corners of the Himalaya, we were able to rely on being able to re-supply our food stock once on the main Karnali (The Karnali Nadi).  Here, on Day 7 we made the first of three food re-supply stops in the river-side town of Rakam. (JJ)

The Captain…in all his glory.  Not only did JJ bring with him some extraordinary leadership skills on our trip, but also a book titled “Man Eaters of Kumaon”.  Turns out Kumaon is the eastern most region of Uttarkhand where we traveled, camped and paddled for a month.  The book, written by Jim Corbett, describes in detail the hunts which were aimed at tracking down deadly tigers and leopards in Western Nepal and Kumaon.  Countless times on our trip we either heard “Tiger!” or saw the hands-curled-by-the-face human impersonation of a tiger after attempting to communicate our plans of camping on the riverbank to the locals.  JJ ain’t scared of no pussy cat.  (Photo by Coop)

Of the few group shots produced from our trip, this has got to be one of my favorites.  The morning of Day 13, our last day on the Karnali and last day together on a river in Asia for the mission.  The photo says it all…Team Renegade assembling together amidst sickness, fatigue, hunger, success, hope and satisfaction, basking in the camaraderie shared upon many river-side beaches, $2 hotel rooms, vans being driven by Indians asleep at the wheel, maxed out moving bus roof racks, Nepali hay rides, pedal rickshaws, goat feces covered pull-outs on the side of the road and countless eddys among some of the most enjoyable whitewater rivers I’ve ever paddled in my life!  Here’s to ya boys…Keep on renegading that shit!

Culture shock is typically reserved for entering a foreign country where nothing is familiar; funny how it always seems to be more influential when re-entering the familiar from the unfamiliar.  Before leaving for Asia, Will and I’s plans of flying back into Los Angeles, California with less than a week to get to Flagstaff, AZ, assemble our next team and put-on the Grand Canyon of the Colorado River seemed like a slight time crunch.  However, upon return we quickly realized the stars were primed to align, meaning time to surf, watch soccer tournaments, spend time with friends and family and of course…put down some In-N-Out Burger.  (All Grand Canyon photography by Lee Timmons unless otherwise stated…Nice eye there Debutante!)

Assembling a group of 16 people anywhere in the world, even without being out of communication and the country for the previous 10 weeks, can be difficult.  However, when the right 16 people are the ones in need of uniting…”If you build it, they will come.”  All together for our first time the day before our planned launch date, the Canyoneers got our first view of the mighty Colorado river around four miles downstream from the put-in.  For some, life-long dreams were about to become reality, for others, a curiousity was becoming even more of an unknown, and for only a couple was there some familiarity to the feeling.

And that’s just how we roll.  Rigging the rafts at Lees Ferry was made relatively stress-free due to the outstanding outfitting service provided by Brady Black and all the hard-working players at Moenkopi Riverworks.  From quality and durable gear, to super customizable options, to the extremely helpful and friendly staff, to the amazing food packed for us, to perfect housing options before and after the trip in Flagstaff, Moenkopi exceeded all of our expectations.  Thanks HEAPS gang!  Look forward to doing the tango again in the future!

“Deep, deep, I’ll take you deep…”  And before you know it, you’re deep in the most famous river canyon in the world.  Here we have kayakers, Jim Moser, Quay Hunter and Fletcher Haaga admiring scenery which only your imagination thought it could create.  Jim and Quay paddled literally the entire Grand Canyon in their kayaks.  Mr. Moser doing so with only hands paddles…with no gloves…did I mention our put-on date was December 18th?  That’s not to take anything away from Mr. Haaga, who brought to the table some fine clear-headed thinking and quite the oar-rigging skill set.  My hat is off to all three of you fellers for being an inspiration day in and day out.

These smiling old-timers happen to be my parents.  Ladies and Gentlemen the creators themselves, Mr. and Mrs. Ken and June Lambla.  Warning: A 25-day trip down the Grand Canyon may contain explicit language, renegade behavior, some-to-full-frontal nudity, harmless violence, varying degrees of alcohol consumption, and potential sexual content.  Despite the Motion Picture Association of America’s warnings, this trip is Parent Approved!!!  Needless to say, having my entire family (Mom, Dad and Sister) along for the ride made this a true trip of a lifetime.  Mad RESPECT to the whanau for stepping up to the challenges day in and day out, despite having very little river-running/ whitewater experience and doing so with a smile on their faces!

Many river trips have a moment where things sink in, the task at hand hits home and you truly understand what’s at stake.  It wasn’t until we rowed into House Rapid, the first grade 8 rapid of the trip, that I realized that I had assumed responsibility of my family’s lives in a type of whitewater craft (an oar rig) I had 100% zero experience in.  According to the picture above, it was also the point of the trip when my sister fell in love with whitewater.  The word on the street is she can now roll a kayak!?!!?!

Dora the Explorer herself, Annie Lambla, making sure the Renegade Flag was tied on daily and never hit the ground!  Can’t say enough praise about my sister’s contributions and accomplishments on this trip, as a matter of fact everyone on the trip achieved goals they never knew they had, pushing limits they never imagined coming close to.  I hate it when the truth sounds cheesy, but sometimes the truth just sounds the way it is.

Any conversation about pushing oars, pushing limits or pushing human waste on the Canyon is not complete without mention of the one and only…Poo Boat.  These two striking men, Ted Werre and David Clarke, showed up to the Canyon expecting to use their craft of choice, a kayak, to navigate the inner streches of the Colorado River.  Upon arrival in Flagstaff at two o’clock in the morning the night before we headed to the put-in, the lads agreed to make a last minute change and take the reins of one of four oar rigs carrying the group’s gear and people down the river.  Becoming notorious for rebellious behavior and “running the meat” of every rapid encountered, the Poo Raft gained respect for their ingenuity and pure desire to survive the obstacles thrown at them by the trip.  Big UPS to ya boys for not only pulling it off, but for doing so with a style truly encompassing the word unique.

The trip marked my first Christmas Day spent on a river.  Timing allowed us to stop by Phantom Ranch to send and receive mail, as well as do some caroling, row through Horn Creek Rapid, and finally camp at the brink of Granite Rapid.  This campsite enabled us to make lap after lap of the giant wave-train in the kayaks, satisfying a severe two-bladed paddling hunger growing among the oarsmen of the crew.  A little surveying of the fish in the pool above the rapid was a very necessary step to a successful run in the playboat.

And the water doth fall, from thy sky…or is it thy rock, which didst caught my eye.  For thy persons who doth stare, at this grand affair, are bless-ed onto us, by none other but a greater ridiculous.  Thy heavens above, and thy hell below, dost tell a story of watery woe.  Thy story dost proceed, infront thy eyes which doth heed, thy blessing from thy sky to appreciate thy minds which have doth been freed.

The many scales of the Grand Canyon are not necessarily anticipated, yet they are appreciated to the fullest every day of the trip.  The expanse of the Canyon’s size is a scale indescribable even by its inclusion in the Seven Natural Wonders of the World.

On the other side of the spectrum, the effects of water on the smaller scale of the canyon are just as impressive, if not more so, due to the effort associated with noticing such details.  Here on New Years Day morning, one of the colder mornings felt on the trip, the combination of water, temperature and sand produced a spectacle worthy of visual enjoyment.

Planning a Grand Canyon trip to span the heart of winter, through both Christmas and New Years, had most people I talked to about the idea shivering at the very thought of such a mission.  With the majority of our skies clear, a group willing to put a positive attitude at the forefront of every day, and enough party supplies to warm everyone’s innards on demand, the benefits of a mid-winter trip far out-numbered the few numbing moments we had.  Here, during the collaborative New Years Eve cave party with our new-found friends from Ireland and Canada, apparently warmth was in excess.

Warm and fuzzy are not exactly how I would describe this infamous torrent of whitewater.  Chunk and Muz powered the Team Kiwi raft flawlessly through the mighty Lava Falls in the photograph above, setting a beautiful example for the rest of the rigs to imitate.  And yes, that is an 18 foot, two ton oar rig  lost amongst the froth of the magma!  (Photo by Haaga)

Team Kiwi really deserves top notch respect for their efforts, enthusiasm and style in the canyon.  Chunk, Muz and Toby rode fire breathing dragons to North America just for this trip.  Making sure to tantalize various parts of Canada, Alaska and Las Vegas with their presence along the way down to the Greatest Ditch in the World, Team Kiwi showed up in Flagstaff dressed about how they are pictured above, making a statement that “You soft handed, glove-wearing Americans aren’t ready for this!”  Little did they know, some of us don’t wear gloves, and were ready for them…whether we knew it or not.  Chur CHUR gang for repping hard, wouldn’t have been the same without ya! (Photo by Annie)

As the whitewater is buried by the outstretched arms of Lake Mead, you have time to sit back, relax, and reflect on the world, life, the trip, friends, rivers, geology and fish.   It wasn’t really until we were floating on this stretch, looking back on the Canyon upstream, the Himalayas and Idaho did I realize how fortunate I was to experience three such amazing places with uncountable sets of amazing people, back-to-back-to-back.  It was a combo move not necessarily planned as such, but more so a combo move planned out of necessity. (Cooper photo)

Needless to say, I felt like one of the luckiest kids alive.  (Photo by Annie Lambla)

Similar feelings might have been drifting through this kid’s mind as well.  While I can’t speak for the reflections on his own experiences, I can say it was a privilege and honor to have Will Stubblefield along on all three stages of the combo move as a paddling partner and best friend.  There aren’t too many other folks I’d rather do a verticle mile, ride around Asia for 10 weeks, and then co- lead a 25-day Grand Canyon trip with.  Here’s to ya, mate…can’t wait for the next mission! (Photo by Annie)

And for people I’d like to spend 25 days with up-close and personal…there’s hundreds.  However the 2010/2011 Christmas, New Years, Multiple-Lunar Eclipse Canyoneers will never go down in my book as anything less than the best Grand Canyon crew that ditch has ever seen…(from left to right) Top Row: Annie Lambla, Quay Hunter, Fletcher Haaga, Ken Lambla, June Lambla, Cooper Lambla, David Clarke, Lee Timmons, Will Stubblefield, Ted Werre, Ben Robinson, Jim Moser, Bill Stubblefield; Bottom Row: Simon “Chunk” Henson, Marie “Muz” Louise Finch, and Toby How.  Can’t say enough praise about each and everyone of you, as well as the crew as a whole.  LEGENDS!!!

And so Team Renegade’s flag flies on…representing a mindset, a subculture, an attitude and a feeling which can be felt no matter where you find yourself.  It doesn’t have to be a far and remote land, a world renowned geologic phenomenon, or a flooded river…wherever you are, live it up, follow your nose and renegade the life you love! (Photo by Annie Bananie)

HEELLLLOOOOOOO California!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Photo by D Clarke)

(Unless noted otherwise…All Photos by Will Stubblefield)

The most rewarding experiences in life are those which originate from spontaneous decisions and are not guaranteed.  To say the least, these two aspects of decision making were amongst the players involved in getting our Middle Kings mission under way this past summer.  With the “insurance” of knowing someone in California named Mad Dog would run our shuttle, Will Stubblefield and I loaded up and hit the road embarking on one of the best possible river adventures in the world. (Coop Photo)

After quite a few “un-dude” moments in Nevada, a plethora of phone calls to various people of varying importance, some complicated drama resolution, the acquisition of wilderness permits and the exchange of $300 for shuttle from the illustrious Willy Nolen, we finally found ourselves at the South Lake trail-head with six days worth of food and supplies.  Similarly different from my previous Middle Kings trip, timing would have us hiking in a few miles that evening, finishing the hike the next day, and then paddling the river in just over three days.

While out of chronological order, this picture gives the opportunity to introduce the crew.  Starting from the left, Mr. Stubblefield, a recent App State graduate turned whitewater photographer/Idaho raft guide whom I have spent a majority of my river days with in the past year.  Mr. Mike Powell, the legend himself…there are too many stories, tall or short, that could be used to introduce Mikey P. (also an App State Grad).  However all you need to know is that when we called to invite him along for the mission he was cooking dinner on his sailboat in the Pacific Ocean just outside of Long Beach.  (That makes him sound quite a bit more Ta-ta than he is, fact is he was on a sailboat one evening and in Bishop the next morning ready to charge).  And then there’s me, the guy who didn’t get the blue-boat-only-memo.

If it weren’t for the scenery, the humpin’ might be a little dry!  It will never cease to amaze me how much a loaded down kayak full of gear hurts as soon as you put it on your shoulders.  You’d think within the first mile of a 12 mile hike it wouldn’t hurt too bad…however with mozzies as thick as mashed potatoes and it only being day 1, you start to realize yer still a bit soft.

Softness is also brought on by ice cream, mules, shooting stars, sandy beaches, girls wearing hula dresses giving scented lotion back massages while waving palm tree branches over you, as well as sunsets.

Unfortunately the only one of these softnesses brought on during our first evening of the mission (and the rest for that matter) was the latter.  Now that I say that, I guess shooting stars were seen quite a few evenings as well….and there were some sandy beaches…and we did see some mules going in the opposite direction at “the brink”…but I don’t recall any girls or ice cream.  Who loves the Sun? (Coop Photo)

If people don’t care that it makes plants grow, will plants then grow from the moon?  Will the sun then start to make mountains grow instead?  Does the sun care about who cares about it?  Who does the Sun love? (Coop Photo)

The view from atop Bishop Pass is unparalleled, and is one of mixed feelings.  Amazement, at what you’ve done so far, as well as what’s still left to be done.  Exhaustion, of your feet, legs, shoulders, knees and lungs.  Sitting at just under 12,000 ft, you wonder if the decision to move forward is one originating from logic or light headedness.

The feeling of being small is a commonly occurring theme of any Middle Kings mission.  However, what is fascinating is that feeling small is the opportune circumstance to realize that small successes upon small successes mount to achieve large goals.

Upon realizing that our crew would include Mikey P, not only did Will and I take comfort in the magic number 3, but we also knew that his light-hearted soul would carry us through some tough times.  Proving us correct time after time throughout the trip, here we have Mr. Powell keeping smiles on faces and laughter in lungs on a rest break approaching the Brink.  “Now it all started two Thanksgivings ago, was on- two years ago on Thanksgiving…”

After enduring the post-brink knee breakers as well as the first few manky river miles through LeConte Canyon, we settled upon our first river camp just below Grouse Meadows.  Here we find Mr. Stubbs and Powell mornin’ drying one of the most critical pieces of gear utilized on the trip. (Coop Photo)

Gotta have clean fangs to have clean lines!  Good Morning Rapid, full day 1 on the river.

Sir Wilbur, probing out an early one on full day 1.  Any newly formed river team experiences an adjustment period early on during any large river undertaking.  A rhythm must be found, balancing and alternating the duties of scouting, probing, portaging and generally leading the movement down-river.  From the start of our trip, I was amazed at how quickly and evenly responsibility was spread amongst our crew.  Rarely before have I ever witnessed such strong teamwork sustained for so long. (Coop Photo)

Mikey P and I scouting out the Seven Rivers Cover Drop.  The lip of the drop is in the lower right-hand corner of this photo taken by Stubbs.  One of my favorite things about looking at pictures and video of kayaking is imagining the un-known.  When you look at that cover shot, you can imagine the drop plummets into a gorge, and you assume there are some undercuts and caves about…but by just looking at that one shot, you’d never expect the river valley surrounding the drop and the gorge to be as stunning as it actually is.  And you’d also never understand how dark and unwelcoming the gorge really is, or how exposed the undercuts and caves are, or how heinous the lead-out rapid really is, OR how far in the middle of nowhere, how horrendously far away from help it is.  I enjoy that.  I enjoy that pictures can tell a part of a story, that stories that go along with pictures can help complete a mental image of the story unfolding, but without being there at the certain place, at a certain time, you never truly know.

Being here, on this slide pictured above, is a good place to be.  The first time I paddled this river, I remember Pat routing the rest of our four man crew through a rather large slide with a big hit at the bottom, completely blind.  Screaming out from the bottom, laid out on the back deck of my kayak I was white-ed out almost the entire way across the pool below.  I was estatic to have a similar experience two years later, with the exception of scouting it this go around.

Mikey P, accelerating out of the entrance ledge like an orca whale breaking the ocean’s surface at one hundred miles an hour, one hundred miles out to sea.

Captain Mike, steerin’ er straight, while I wait below…lunch money still in possession.

The Money Drop of Day 1…not to be confused with the Lunch Money Rapid of Day 1.  While the threat of losing my lunch money was not as present as in The Lunch Money Rapid itself, the outcome of my lunch order was quite different than what I ordered from the purple eye-lined, hair-netted lunch lady.

Thankfully the location of lunch itself was exactly where I’d hoped it would be.  Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiikk…Bro, Brew, Bra-Ham!!!

Sometimes…things are larger in real life.  Sometimes they are larger on the Middle Kings.  In this picture, some things are larger while others seem smaller, yet time is elastic.

“Oh my god that’s the funky shit!”

Pictured above is what was originally described to me as the “Werner Paddles Drop.” While I doubt Werner even knows that there is a drop on the Middle Kings named after them, they might want to make a press release re-naming this rapid to the Werner Paddles Rapid, or the Werner Paddles Drops, due to the plural verticality of this rapid’s nature.  Please take a moment to consider that the previous picture taken by Stubbs, was looking down upon the drop seen furthest up-stream in this picture. (Coop Photo)

To be or not to be is not the question.  Never stop being.  Here we have Sir Stubblefield, most certainly being. (Coop Photo)

Due to our crew’s All-Boonetown origin we don’t eat no Class V for Breakfast.  Class V for DUNCH!!!  Go ‘head ya’ll, go ‘head get down.

Transfixed in a world of bedrock, Dunch and a blizzard, Mikey P. steers ‘er clear of the fear.

Some of the most common fears among aliens of the recently discovered planet, Kepler 7-b include the fear of disappearing.  Senor Powell ain’t no alien.

Please excuse the language, but…”It’s the Middle Fucking KINGS!!!”

A few thoughts come to mind when looking at this picture…The flash flood resulting from the dark clouds in the background of this photo, a quote from Pat Keller on our trip two years ago…”Supposedly you just find yourself in the Waterfall Gorge,” as well as a vision of the bow of my Magnum rocketing skyward in a tail-stand which created a large amount of apprehension felt by all engulfed in the Waterfall Gorge’s aura.  “Your aura is purple.”

The human memory is an amazing thing.  I find returning to rivers I have previously run a very mysterious experience, especially rivers of the length and magnitude of the Middle Kings.  Unsure of what has been retained after years of new rivers and experiences, my mind plays a game of cat and mouse, chasing and avoiding being chased.  Chase or be chased.  Here I am late in our full day 1…most definitely chasing.

An amazing aspect of paddling rivers for extended lengths (for the purpose of this thought we’ll consider extended lengths any river trip over a day, since that is the typical duration of paddling trips) is experiencing the changes of a river’s ecology, and therefore character.  From feeling different night and day-time temperatures to noticing different plant species to paddling different styles of rapids, you really get a sense that you are traveling.  Funny that…since you are!  This experience can be no truer than on the Middle Kings.  Here on full day 2, the river’s rapids undergo a considerable shift in character towards a very California-esque boulder garden style, which perfectly enough, is a rather appropriate warm-up for the action found within the Bottom Nine.

I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again…lunch on the Middle Kings is like Christmas for a five year old.

“Parading without a permit?  You got to be kidding me!  Do you know who this is? This is Captain America! I’m Billy! Hey, we’re headliners, baby!”

Sometimes on the Middle Kings you feel like you’re paddling through John Muir’s mind.  Sometimes you feel like you’re an ant waiting to be crushed underneath T-Rex’s giant foot as he bounds over ridge after ridge.  And other times you feel like you’re a marmot struggling with the realities of staying afloat in a bathtube while trying not to be hit in the head by the hand of a panicking man smoking a J with tweezers while a cricket bat is being smashed into every electronic object in sight.

Camp Hideaway in all its glory.  Tehipite Dome, the freshest bear skat I’ve ever seen, more crazy creepy crawlers, and another restless night spurred by a flurry of headlamps and action soon after nightfall all seemed frighteningly familiar.

Sir William Tinsley Stubblefield…the man behind the lens of most of the pictures you have witnessed here today.  Chur CHUR brew for luggin that digi-clicker in with us, and having the thought, patience and motivation to snap so many quality shots while remaining a true asset to the team!  Mad props, mate!

The Bottom Nine was reaffirmed in my mind as one of the longest, hardest most trying days a paddler can face in the continental United States.  The concept dubbed “unit kayaking” by Kev England has no better application than here, where every step, every stroke, and every decision is made in the face of great consequence.

“We take it back to the concrete streets, original beats, real live MC’s…” with what I am sure can now offically be dubbed as SO 2001…The White Fist.

It would be comforting to say that each movement made downstream in the Bottom Nine was as calculated as a chess move.  While perhaps some actions could be described as such, others including the above pictured would more appropriately fit into a category illustrated by a bowling ball ricocheting down a lane protected from gutterballs by flip-out bumpers.  If only the Bottom Nine DID have a bumpers option!  That being said…good thing it doesn’t.

It is not possible to bring enough calories into the Middle Kings to provide you with all the energy you need to remain 100% fired up and fueled throughout the trip.  There comes a point in each day where you have to dig a little bit deeper for something inside that might or might not be present in the moment at which you need it.  The Bottom Nine presents countless opportunities for mandatory digging.  Here, late in the afternoon following two already much needed lunch breaks, Will and Mikey continue to give everything they’ve got to stay focused while scouting the relentless nine mile class V+ rapid known as the Bottom Nine. (Coop Photo)

Three Boonetowners, three kayaks, six days worth of food and gear, five days of action, three Full days of whitewater covering about 30 river miles descending over 6,000 ft, five snakes, two of which rattled, one black bear, over 12 miles of hiking with roughly 5,500 ft of elevation change, close to 700 miles of driving and “the syncrecy of the world” put us at the confluence of the Middle Fork and South Fork of the Kings River as dusk swept through the valley.  With another couple very steep miles of hiking left and over 1,000 more miles to drive to get back to Stanley, ID a day late for work…standing at this location, with two of my best friends in the world was a feeling words can’t come close to describing.  That’s why we took this picture.  If a typical picture is worth 1,000 words, than this one is worth a Ga-zill-gill-billion!

Again many Heaps of THANKS need to go out to quite a few people that made this mission a success.  Will and Mikey for rallying, Willy Nolen and Kendo for shuttle, excitement and the stories, Freddy for the inspiration, Mad Dog for the legend, Liese and Sandy for their tolerance, and all the family and friends we spoke to en route to California…ya’lls support and encouragement went a long way!

For the account of my previous Middle Kings trip completed on the 2007 Magical Mystery Tour, check out the Motherland archives.

This has been Cooper Lambla givin’ Respect out to all the brothas and sistas of the world.  Go Big Up Yo Self Now, and Kia Kaha.

This piece of art-work (found gracing the bathroom hallway of Biscuit World) brings forth many different aspects of today’s perplexing society…Man and Woman’s naturally jealous instinct.  Societal reliance on revenge.   The “right” to bear arms.  As well as human’s need and want to Love.  This post is dedicated to Love, for it is what I’d rather focus on in this particular piece of art.

They say that summer is a season of love.  10 year olds love it because school is let out for an extended time of year when the days are the longest and the playground is the hottest.  The same could be said for whitewater kayakers…in fact many parallels could be drawn between 10 year olds and paddlers other than their reliance on PB & Js for everlasting energy, but that is an entirely different love song waiting to be sung.

Love was found, or shall I say rediscovered, early on this summer as a late spring in the Southeast blessed us with full rivers well into late May.  Even after moving back to Charlotte for a month before cruising west we were able to harvest the goods of the droplets on many occasions.  This picture taken by Chris Gragtmans below Wintergreen Falls on the Toxaway provides an excellent illustration of water, bedrock, reunited friends and how their combined actions produce a love unknown and un-felt to most in today’s society.

The trip down the Toxaway was my first since Spring Break of my senior year of high school.  It confirmed every memory I had of the river…its terrifying nature, slippery portages and a hike-out with the potential to be mean as, like your 70 year old tenured professor.  All that being said, the point at which I am frozen in time in this photo by Fergus Coffey is why we keep coming back…the love associated with marginally controllable uncontrollability.

They also say that Virginia is for lovers.  However, who they are and what they know is unknown to me.  So therefore we shall say Nay, and look to Spencer Cooke who has decided that it is truly North Carolina which shall be deemed “For Lovers.”  This video helps explains the decision…

The film, shot this past spring and early summer, is the most diverse exploration into the whitewater of a state for lovers ever seen before.   A few highlights of the film include the worst chainsawing my car has ever received, as well as footage from some childhood favorites such as Wilson Creek, the Rocky Broad (possibly the most under-rated creek in NC), as well as the pride and joy of Boonetown…the Waw-taugs.  Also thrown into the mix is a bit of Raven Fork for the Class V kids and some French Broads for the Oldtimers.  In Joy!  For more on the flick…

http://www.rapidtransitvideo.com/blog/?p=305

Many adventures were enjoyed this summer from Idaho to California to Washington and so on.  This photo atop Bishop Pass, CA is another moment of love.  (Stubblephoto)  It dives into the side of love which hurts.   A more complete report on highlighted loves I found and re-affirmed this summer shall appear sometime in the year 2000… the distant future.

Love.  Because it feels good.

When a fly flies into a Venus fly-trap, what does it think about while in there? Do flies know about Venus fly traps before coming face to face with them in real life? When a fly is hit by a very large raindrop, does it hurt? When a sand-fly bites a human, does it realize that humans dream of the ability to fly? Does it know that some humans actually do know how to fly?

A human, post flight…or just a boat, post flight? Or a fly, on the fly? Maybe one, maybe all. Either way, Will Stubblefield and I went kayaking quite a bit this past semester, one place we enjoyed most thoroughly was 2nd Drop, in QuarterMile on the Chucky. This picture may help explain why.  Photo by Stubbs.

Maybe this one helps too. To fly and not be hit by rain droplets is one thing, but to fly and create your own rain droplets is another.  Thanks to Stubbs for capturing these droplets of joy!

Raindrops falling from the sky are usually what makes kayakers happy. However, sometimes freezing precipitation in the form of snow can also make a paddler happy. Happiness can be accomplished by the act of many acts, these acts can be performed by many different actors in many different ways, sometimes in the form of a theatrical performance…or in the form of a snowstorm. On this day, in the life of a couple of students, a professor and a professor’s husband, the multi-act performance of a large snowstorm, performed with a bit of water still lingering around, as well some university administrators deciding the world was unprepared for schooling on such a day, made for happiness. THAT was an example of a run-on sentence.  THESE are ninjas in the multi-act performance preparing to go on stage.  Photo by Mike Mayfield.  Spanks for the shots from the day brotha…glad they didn’t cost you any digits!

The above mentioned ninjas on a stage set unparalleled by any Broadway play.  Photo by Mike.

Act #37…The professor’s husband satisfies his hunger to the utmost excitement while performing a paddle elevation magic trick. Extraordinary good Sir!  Photo by Mike.

If regarded as one large performance, one of this past semester’s main characters would have been this rapid right here. The line of two states. Low water levels throughout the middle of the semester left us pushing the lower end of runnable on the Taugs, while making Stateline into quite a technical move. A very Sunshine-esque, last-minute, left-to-right, ride-the-curler-at-the-lip-to-boof move sustained the excitement of our local run in the High Country.  Photo by Mike.

Back to the multi-act performance however, we found sustaining our body temperatures the biggest challenge.  Photo by Dr. Mike…of Mayfield’s Ice Cream!

When levels on the Taugs were too low to be pushed, the Chucky yet again helped fill our prescription with a little dosage of longboat action. Here in a cold winter’s day dream…Zogg Dogg, Drew Austell, Maggee Williams and I contemplate a fish, a bird and one man’s desire for the two’s conjunction in holy matrimony.  Photo by Stubbs.

The iPod is credited with revolutionizing the way we listen to music.  This is false, the Shuffle function of a iPod revolutionized the way we listen to music.  This is similar to the freewheel.  The freewheel has revolutionized the way we look at waterfalls.  Here I am, shuffling the various ways of running Stateline, song #2 being “Wheels of Freedom.”  Despite what it looks like, this ain’t no rock n’ roll jam!  Photo by Stubbs.

Song #3, played by the one and only Tulip, mi amigo Eric Chance…”The Storm You Dream of Boofin’.”  Stubblephoto.

A scientific study shows that 1 out of 20 kayakers are religious off the water.  However, 1 out of 3 kayakers have had religious experiences on the water.  I don’t know if it was the setting, the people, the rapid or the baseball, but this religious moment was caught on film above Double Undercut on the Lower Meadow by Will Stubblefield.  A Big Ups One Two out to Bryan Kirk for being the host of choice in Fayetteville, WV for many years running.  Mad thanks for the lines, couches, tips and hospitality this semester! 

Edge of the World…a place where you can put your world on the edge, or just your boat…or neither if you so please.  The site of many grand Roundy Rounds, Backrounds, pitons, sterntons, Bo-rounds and side-wo-rounds.  This variation of one or the other has been brought to you from viewers like you.  Your support keeps us on (or in) the Air!  Photo by Stubbs.

This man’s name is Mike Mayfield…you might have heard of him, if you ate Wheaties when he was on the front of the box…or if you failed Physical Geography your Freshman year at App State…or if you like bubbles, in the air, like…airborne bubbles, lofted bubbles, bubbly bubbles, bubble wrap, bubble pop, hubble bubble, or double bubble.  Dr. Mayfield’s the name, so remember the game.  A big CHUR CHUR out to this man for all his help this past semester, as well as his assistance in landing my internship in Idaho this summer!  LEGEND status…as if he already wasn’t there!  Stubblephoto.

While Sleepy Hollow might be located in the headwaters of the Watauga, the infamous Headless Horseman has finally found his way down to where the real goodies of the High Country lie!  The new slot, just upstream from Omar’s Old Villa was pioneered by Sir Wilbur Stubblefield, and has found its way into the low-water standard operating procedure.  Chur chur Brew…for the line and the photo!

The Tom Tom Club said it, Ms. Gatolina proves it…”The girls can do it too, ya’ll!”  Photo by Stubbs.

Speaking of Ms. Cat Boland, a young lady whom I have had the fortunate experience of being reunited with in the most wondrous way, one of the best days on the Green this semester was having the pleasure of taking her down the Gnars for her first time.  When first met at an NOC Kids Camp back in our pee-wee days, I remember being introduced to creeking on the Upper Green with her, whoda thunk we’d be paddling a different stretch of the same river together again after so many years!   Stoked yer back in my world, girl!  Here we find the Gato Bonita getting tubular in the Groovuler.  Photo by Stubbs.

A summary (if that’s what this is an attempt of…) of this past semester would hardly be complete with out a few scenes from the legendary Ville.  In fact, to truly capture this semester’s action on the Linville River, a whole screenplay is needed.  However, these few images will have to do for the mo.  A couple of highlights from our High Country Gem include…The largest flow I’ve ever seen on the Linville…My first hike-out from the river (due to too high of a flow)…The most runs on this beauty in a semester for me to date…My second double…showing some of my closest friends down my favorite run in the SE.  Yet again, CHUR CHUR to Stubbs for this gorgeous shot of what must’ve been our earliest start of the semester.  For a write-up of this particular weekend’s high water action, check-out ZoggDogg’s “Linville River…Like it Is.”

Like the beat of a drum, that makes yo ears numb, the Ville has got that sweet to put the boof in yo seat!!!  This is the second photo in a series of shots Wilbur took titled “Boonetown Spreading Niceness”…the first of which can be seen HERE. 

Zogg DAWG in action on our beloved Linville River.  This man showed me down this run for my first run, and has accompanied me on just about all of my most memorable runs out there.  He recently moved up to New Hampshire where he will/is destroying and conquering yet another paddling scene.  You’ll be much missed BROTHA!!!!!

Also in the High Country’s Graduating class of Spring ’09, is the man behind the lens in most of the snappers viewed today, Mr. Wilburston Stubblefield.  Stubbs probably got more days on the water this past semester than anyone in the High Country.  I could probably write a book on why Will’s THE Man, a best friend, an amazing paddler and one helluva photographer.  But instead, I’ll save all the sap and just say, Will…it was a pleasure to hang with ya this year, and I’m stoked to be able to paddle a bit out west with ya again!

Well, that about wraps ‘er up…My past semester, viewed from a hot air balloon floating off over the horizon…westward towards the setting sun.  Yet while that sun sets, we can take comfort in the fact that it will rise again…in fact it already has, shining those powerful rays of light onto that same hot air balloon, this time settling down into a wide valley situated at the headwaters of the Salmon River in the middle of the Sawtooth Mountain Range, right smack dab in the middle of Idaho. 

Can’t promise live updates from the good times out here, but I will try to get something together when I get back to Boonetown.  For now, all I can say is, it’s Good Clean Living out here in the Ho.  Lovin’ it, Love ya’ll!

Kia Kaha.

In 2008, a grand experiment dubbed the “NZ Video Journals” was produced by  Spencer Cooke, of Effort Inc. along with myself through the video collaborative, Rapid Transit Video.  The Journals documented my travels with a kayak around New Zealand during my year of study down under.  Photo up top by Kev England.

The Full Video Journals from start to finish have recently been produced for your viewing pleasure on Rapid Transit Video, this was made possible by sponsorship from Shred Ready.  Thanks to Tom Sherburne and evryone else at Shred Ready for their support!!!

Check the Full Video HERE.

Before saying anything else, an EXTRA LARGE THANK YOU is in order out to Mr. Spencer Cooke.  With out your generosity, support, equipment, time (put into editing and communication) and friendship, this project would never have happened.  THANK YOU!!!!!!!!

For more on the Journals, check out the following links to each volume of the Journal’s blog post, on the Rapid Transit Video Blog…

Journal #1, “New Zealand North Island”.

Journal #2, “New Zealand South Island”.

Journal #3, “Stayin’ South”.

As for Journal #4…yer just gonna have to watch the Full gig, we never produced #4 on its own, ya just gotta see em all to get it!

A Big CHUR Chur also is due out to anyone and everyone who helped out with the videos, lines on the river, rides to the river, crashes on a couch, food, beer, hospitality, etc.  You know who you are, but a few names must be mentioned… WHEELS!, Cheese, The Kwants, Kev and Andy England, Ben Robson and Rach, Lees Please! (KT, Simon “Chunk”, Gina, Bindy), Barnabus, Eden, Kieth Riely, Gareth Fryer, Porno Pete, Pac-Man, Kent and Kirsty, Dave Richie, the UCCC crew, Nick G. Welsh Matt, Si and Sandy, Jimmy Lowery, Thorpie and anyone else I forgot!  Thank you all SO much for making 2008 one of the best years of my life!!!  Come on over to the Motherland, and I’ll try to return the lovin’!

Kia Kaha out to the Iwi!!!

Downstream Movement is about the progression down a river or creek that unites people no matter who they are. While in the realm of Downstream Movement, nothing else matters, it’s you, your friends, nature and your combined actions that creates Downstream Movement.

This new site is a way for me to share good times on and off the water with with more people in more styles than ever before known to the kind-man! It will also serve as a platform to offer services in photography, video production, journalism, event organization, etc.  One of the reasons for switching to the new host, WordPress, is the ability to have multiple pages within the site.  On the right side of the page you will find different categories archiving past, present and future posts. 

So chur chur for visiting, and hope you dig the new site! Feel free to give a shout with any questions, inquiries or knowledge to drop! Until next time…

Kia Kaha,

Cooper Lambla

e-mail: coop DOT lambla AT gmail DOT com ……….. phone: 704 578 7112

(photo by Annie Lambla, my sis!)

Bruce Dando and Kevin England, two legends in their own respects sharing a moment of passion, joy and excitement.

Kev showed up at my house one day with this photo from the day printed out poster size. (Chur bro!) It now hangs on my wall and allows me to awake each morning in a helicopter, flying up one of the sikest days of whitewater in the world!

I guess for Bruce, the excitement of riding in a helicopter has died down over the years. When you fly with him, he’s as cool as a mobster (in his own west-coast Kiwi mobster style.) But every time I am in, or even just watching the helicopter I get all giddy inside…anticipating the day’s action, like a bird soaring up a river valley (everybody dreams of flying!)…or maybe it’s just the fumes?

I quite like this picture of Kev, running one of the most infamous drops on the Coast…Nikki’s Drop. Named after the world-renowned Kiwi phenom, Nikki Kelly, it is located not only on one of the sikest rivers in the world, but in quite a picturesque spwot!

Here I am on the same drop, wishing I had a paddle blade in the water, not on rock! (Photo by Kev)

The lower flow enabled us to enjoy our surroundings a bit more than the first time I was on the river. Here we have Kev following Eden and Barney into one of the most majestic gorges I’ve ever imagined. The combined effect of being walled-in, the sun shining through and off the many waterfalls pouring in from the gorge walls, and the breathtaking color of the water kind of makes you feel rather lucky to be alive, let alone witness such amazing places.

Here we have Hokitika homegrown, Eden Sinclair, cruising out of the first of the three “crux” back-to-back-to-back rapids. While, un-like my first run, there was time and more eddies between the rapids, the consequences and threats of missing your line or eddy were still as great as ever.

Kev England charges the second of the mighty three, with the entrance of the third rapid in-sight, just downstream. This drop, (run on the right this time, as opposed to the left line taken at higher water) involved quite a cool s-turn, edge-transition entrance move (seen directly in front of Kev’s bow here) which set you up perfectly at the lip of quite a cool boof.

Barn-Dogg, in da’ house, settin’ her up for success…something he does best!

I stitched together these images Kev shot of me to give a different perspective on the drop. A lot of folks think that stitched shots where you can see the stitches (or edges of the original pics) are unprofessional, or look bad. I on the other hand quite like the original, un-tainted feel they bring…or maybe that’s just me making up excuses for not being some Photoshop pro!

Barnabus Young, driving hard above the entrance hole in rapid #3 of the set, the Cave. Needless to say, this has to be one of the most intimidating rapids on the run. When yer where Barney is in this picture, you feel like you’re about to be eaten by some mythical monster…but you know if you partake in one helluva strong charge-fest, you’ll be spat out the other end. If not, I don’t even want to think about what the beast’s belly looks like!

Mr. Sinclair again, this time performing a spot-on seal launch in the last gorge above Morgan’s Gorge. The moment freezed in time here is quite a nerve racking one for many paddlers, as not only do you need to clear the rocks at the base of the wall, but you must also avoid getting shot into that little pocket up against the wall just downstream of where you land!

Barney pulling up…”Mommy, Daddy, come and look at me now…I’m a big man in a great big town…Years ago who would believe it’s true…Goes to show what a little faith can do…up up up up up up up UP!” (Photo by Kev)

Barney Young, the entertainer. There’s nothing quite like going on a river trip with this man, if there’s one thing that’s guaranteed…you’re sure to laugh and smile! Eden knows knows what I’m talking about, and neither of these boys should be smiling as much as they are before the portage they’re about to do!

The portage around Morgan’s gorge has a track, but it is un-doubtably a NZ track…which means it’s not really much of track, and is easily lost when attempting to follow. However, the rewards of your efforts are well worth the pain. This is facing upstream from the point where you first see the river again. Sieve Salad anyone?

If you look closely at the previous Sieve Salad photo you can see Kev, who scrambled down to river level to see what he could see. This shot by him, looks back up at Barney, Eden and I scouting the run-out rapid of the gorge. We were all experiencing one of those amazingly unique, mixed feelings, only felt in kayaking…a combination of exhaustion, apprehension, excitement and mystery.

The same moment in time, brought to you from my perspective. The decision was made to run the last rapid, a first for Eden, Barney and I. It was a most satisfying end to yet another incredible day of paddling on the Coast.

As I write that last sentence though, I wonder…Does paddling such quality whitewater, in such gorgeous settings, on such a regular basis take away from its meaning, significance or importance? Paddling has always been an obsession for me, but I wonder if paddling less adds more meaning to each time you get out and paddle…or if paddling regularly satisfies the soul on a more regular basis, therefore creating greater happiness?

I think we can all marinate on that for a bitty.

This is Paul Current. He likes to smile…and style difficult whitewater…sometimes he combines these two hobbies. It’s quite the spectacle to watch.

PC punches through the entrance hole guarding the start of the Bluff. Your success on this move determines if the rest of your run will be full of panic or relaxation…sort of.

About to drop into the crux hole of the rapid, P-to-the-C reaps the rewards of a styley entrance. “Hey-diddle-diddle, right down the middle!”

Speaking of Hey-diddle-diddle, Mr. I’ve-got-a-riddle…Barney Young sets up to punch the first hole. A punch he will get.

I always enjoy paddling a wide variety of styles of whitewater, just to keep ya on yer toes. Too much of one style will draw blinders over a paddlers eyes, making kayakers more like horses rather than donkeys. Donkeys don’t wear blinders. Here’s a picture of the post-bluff carnage footy review…the real carnage came later that night. (Photo by Kev)

The Dogleg put-in scene, post-carnage and after a couple mid-day Bluff runs. This session on the Do-Little-Do-Nothing Wave was made possible by Matt McCloud. Thanks Matt, for the van full of playboats, the hospitality, the crashes and everything else during our stay(s) in Queenstown!!!

Following that perfect blend of blue weather, we once again found ourselves in Fiordland gearing up on the banks of the Hollyford…This time upstream, on the mighty Monkey Creek section.

And if the people of the party are feeling hardy tonight… This is one of the first long, complex rapids you come to on Monkey Creek, it really sets the tone for a run that ranks up there with any of the classic Coast runs. (Photo by Kev)

The Hollyford River valley after a good rain is one of the most magical places I’ve ever paddled. Every glimpse out of the tree-lined river bank you get, has one of the tallest waterfalls I’ve ever seen perfectly framed in it.

Dave Kwant, charging the burl to avoid burling the charge. (Photo by Kev)

This unsuspecting double drop is placed precariously at the top of a rather perplexing mumble jumble of a rapid. Not the most uncommon sight on Monkey Creek. (Photo by Kev)

More gorgeous waterfalls provide a surreal backdrop to more fantabulous rapids. The exit of this rapid which Dave is entering was one of the sikest boofs on the river…S-turn into a white-out charging left auto-air. Tasty, but I was too slow on the trigger to provide any visuals.

Some rocks are good rocks, and some rocks are bad rocks…it is amazing how fast a good rock can become a bad rock. PC finds no bad rocks…and is thankful.

After Monkey Creek, we headed back north in a chase of the last of the water to the put-in of the Nevis River. On the way, this van depicted a typical conversation with one of our beloved crew members…Mr. Baranabus Young.

Following a highly amusing drive the night before, we woke to a river level dropping off towards the low side of ideal. But thanks to some inspiration from this feller, Mr. Matt McCloud, we opted to still give ‘er the ol’ college try…level be damned! To roughly quote Tommy Hilleke, “I’ve never been disappointed by making the decision to go kayaking.”

The Barn-Dogg eying up another chunker of a rapid, somewhere in the midst of the never-ending Nevis action. Big ups to Mr. Kevin England, who took this and the remaining pictures of our trip down the Nevis.

“Welsh Matt” opting for a slightly different angle on the same drop.

An absolutely classic representation of Barney’s unique heart of gold, personality and style. The only thing unrepresented here is the volume at which smack is spewed out of that gaping mouth!

Cranking one out, at the end of the same, long mamajama.

Appearing only after heavy rainfall, these desert flowers are often found sprouting up in some of the most harsh environments on earth.

Due to its guidebook fame, climaxing location on the run, and its mere size, Big Brother could easily be considered the Nevis River’s most infamous rapid. Giving his chops a rest, Barnabus’ boat loudly persuaded anyone else from attempting the left “slot.”

Sometimes a suspected boof becomes a toosh, and sometimes a suspected toosh can transform into a boof. Here, I experience the later.

The Nevis flows into the Kawarau River just above Citroen Rapid. Below Citroen lies Retrospect, arguably the Kawarau’s largest rapid. After a false end to our day, we were rallied to continue downstream by a large floatila of Central Otago’s finest rapid riders partaking in a stag-due for Mr. Kent Huxford. Here we have the likes of Dylan Thompson making the crux move on the frothing monster.

The Longman Antz, of Cumec Magazine fame, improvising a rather styley line through the maw. In an attempt at making a new “down the meat” line, the remainder of Team Nevis (Kev and I) failed to represent in the style department.

The Stag himself, after paddling all the whitewater on the Kawarau River had only just begun his evening!

To conclude this evening’s concerto I will leave you with few points of interest…

It’s known world-wide that Kiwis are some of the most hard-out mo-fo’s out there. This was recently confirmed by my good friend and flatmate, Dr. Simon Hensen, who despite having a broken leg still rallied and came kayaking with us down the Huranui. Good on ya mate!

Kiwis are also rather legendary for their unique sense of humor…which is demonstrated below. This actually has everything to do with kayaking, at the same time as having nothing…

And lastly, having nothing to do with Kiwis, or New Zealand…

Another good mate of mine, Joey Hall, has recently produced a new website for his company Deadman Productions. Deadman is a sort of bastard child of all of Joey’s combined talents, which include graphic design, illustration, web design, video production, and more. The new site sports samples of his past work, (like the rad-as design pictured above…everyone should write Joey and get him to make a Deadman t-shirt with this design on it!) and also includes ramblings, a Top 5, a “Mix of the Week” and more. Mixed tapes are BACK!!!! Check the freshness HERE!

Until next time, Catch yuns on down the trail.

The shades of blue foreshadow blue emotions…not for, or even about the kayaking (or the sandlflies for that matter!) but rather towards the damage of thousands of dollars worth of multi-sport gear. It would all be worth it in the end.

Different shades of blue over Lake Wanaka foreshadow the sweet-as weather and days to come. (Good weather for kayaking balances a perfect blend of blue…blue rain drops, followed by clear blue skies!)

After being stunned by the beauty of Lake Wanaka, we crested a ridge to find the eqaully gorgeous Lake Hawea resting underneath the evening shadows and cotton candy.

The next morning we entered Fiordland…

A unique place to say the least. As well as containing some of the most magestic mountins in NZ, Fiordland also boasts roadside whitewater! Roadside Class V…in New Zealand? The group unloads at the get-in to the Marion Creek section of the Hollyford River.

Like a grandfather’s fragile wrinkly fingers, the limbs of the native bush and trees hang over the river as if to radiate wisdom and positive spirits out through their fingertips.

Like many classic NZ rivers the Hollyford doesn’t showcase any large single huckster drops, but instead provides the continuous, technical more “rapid-running” style of whitewater that pushes a paddler more in a holistic sense. Dave Kwant shimmer-shines a boof off the first ledge of the river.

A man who is guaranteed to take fewer strokes than you and still keep it more styley, Mr. JJ Sheperd, working through the top of a hover-o-matic S-turn kinda sort of rapid…ish…thing.

“I keep my cup raised up…” Kev England, keepin’ it up when he needs it up most!

The addictiveness of kayaking is sometimes compared to a drug addict’s addiction to drugs. While that might not present the healthiest image, it portrays the seriousness of the matter. Unlike drugs however, kayaking provides that “fix” to the addict in a much healthier manner. Here we have Kev England, who can’t see past his next fix…his “own worst enemy.” Check out Spencer Cooke’s well-written words on this topic, of what he describes as his “problem.”

Here we have PC dropping into the last rapid on the run before the portage. Take notes ya’ll, because this outfit is likely to be Hee Haw Jones approved!

PC on the second half of the same rapid, in a real “Go Left and Die” scenerio. Unlike in the Northern Hemisphere, you do actually go right!!!

Post-river, before driving through Homer Tunnel, this “spwot” confirmed that Fiordland’s scenery was unlike anything I’ve ever seen before! 20,000 years ago glaciers carved these steep valley walls, leaving behind some of the tallest waterfalls in world, as well as this snow-bridge, and a heard of big woolly mammoths…who still wore their coats, even though it was the middle of summertime!

Milford Sound in all her beauty. The clouds were alive on this day, so I’d recommend checking out my NZ “South Island” Video Journal for better visuals of the magic, as well as footage from the Hollyford River.

While in many aspects very different from the Sierras, Fiordland presents a similarly enchanting feel. John Muir would’ve loved it here…”I know that our bodies were made to thrive only in pure air, and the scenes in which pure air is found.” This is a scene where pure air is found.

Stay tuned for more pure air thoughts and images from this southward bound roadie!

In the NEWS side of things…

Kev England runs Maruia Falls at really high water! No, actually that’s not news, but I like the shot and it gives me a chance to announce the creation of my latest video on Rapid Transit Video…

Check out www.rapidtransitvideo.com to watch Volume III of my New Zealand Video Journal…“Stayin’ South.” In this video you will be able to watch footage from that high-water day at Maruia, as well as much much more…its sure not to be a bore! But thanks to Reading Rainbow…”You don’t have to take my word for it!”

Until next time…Kia Kaha!

Where land meets sea is often a most beautiful thing, but un-zipping my tent to such beauty after driving all night and then settling for “just camping here off the road” was quite divine.

“…Here he comes and he’s gone again, Pretty lady ain’t got no friend till the, Candy Man comes around again…” To bad they don’t have candy here in NZ…they call ‘em lollies instead! Sometimes I like to imagine a helicopter carrying a net full of kayaks is actually the Candy Man dropping off the sweets for all the wee kiddly winks! I guess in some ways, it is!

In that case may I present to you…The Candy Man! (Photo by Rach)

If rivers are the souls of this earth, why would we want to drown them?

Kids in a candy shop? Children’s expressions, when they get to a candy shop and are seconds from indulging, are amazingly similar to those they have when they leave the same shop buzzing on their sugar high. Now just imagine if you took away their candy shop! Our group of Rach, Wheels, Cheese and I…ready to enjoy some candy.

Or was it just the helicopter fumes?

Question: What’s sweeter…Candy or Cheese? I guess that depends if you’re lactose intolerant or if you’re diabetic…or maybe it doesn’t.

I’d like to Thank this man, Mr. Gareth Wheeler, for making this trip on the Mokihinui happen for me! Legend!!!

The motivation for paddling a river can vary from one person to another, even within a group. While some might seek the adventure and challenge of the rapids, others enjoy a river valley’s beauty and the animals within it. Rach here, I reckon is more concerned with the aims first mentioned.

One great component to whitewater is that newer boaters can get the same stoke on class III that a more experienced boater gets on class V. Having been a heli-virgin a week or so before this trip I could easily relate to the emotions running through Rach’s world, even though the consequences of the river were different than my first heli-trip. Here we have Wheels doing what he does best, helping out a friend in need.

Wheels again, perhaps demonstrating his second best skill…finding effortlessly smooth lines down a river!

It’s hard to describe the beauty of the Mokihinui River valley…the geology, the water, the animals, the history…it’s gorgeous to many people in many ways. Maybe just the fact that it has been ranked 7th in a New Zealand database of water bodies of national importance for its natural values says something. So is it not selfish for one person to find such a valuable river beautiful for its potential energy value, therefore eliminating its beauty to others?

You are about to paddle into the rapid…who would you fly in, and what song would be played over the roar?

Wheels being hit with mind bullets…Dam this? You’ve got to be kidding!!!

As an overseas visitor to New Zealand who values waterways, I am strongly opposed to this “renewable energy” proposal. (A rant about how damming rivers is NOT renewable could be written at this time, but I’ll let my pictures and what I’ve already said speak on that issue.) While I completely understand that there is always two sides to any argument, (in this case lower energy costs being the most appealing to locals in favor of the dam) I do not see how such an environmentally devastating proposal is the answer in this particular case. Would solar or wind power not provide the same lower energy costs with more sustainability? More information on the proposal and how you can SAVE THE MOKIHINUI can be found at http://www.mokihinui.org/ as well as http://www.forestandbird.org.nz/conservation/freshwater/mokihinui.asp. NEW LINK (added Aug. 20th)…NZ Wild Rivers Action Project

VIVA LA MOKIHINUI RIVER!!!