Twas Just Right Before New Years

‘Twas just right before New Years, and here at NRS,
It was time to hang ‘er-up and say bye to my desk.

When all of a sudden, I heard quite a clatter,
I sprang from my chair to tune into the chatter.

It was my associate Darren and he said with a grin,
“It’s time to go paddle, the Potlatch is IN!”

And that was the moment the idea took hold;
One more ’06 run would be like pure gold!

But leave work tomorrow? Our staff is too thin,
Holiday vacations have made the crew “skeletin”.

We have to go boatin’, there is no doubt,
But whom can we ask when everyone’s out?

Then came the voice of a wise rep named Gator,
‘Go paddle bright and early, I’ll cover ‘til later.’

So all that night, while cozy in bed,
Visions of whitewater danced in my head.

The next day I woke, to a cold winter dawn,
But it wasn’t as icy as the river we’d be on.

Dropping a take-out vehicle brought quite a surprise,
Two playful otter swam right before our eyes!

We’re almost there, I thought in my glory!
But if it were that easy, there would be no story…

With Darren in his hard-shell, and I with my soft-,
Just inflate my boat and then we’d be off.

In the middle of inflating I felt like a jerk,
My untested old pump ceased to work.

After a hasty fix quite some time had passed,
So I pumped hard like Arnold, and twice as fast.

When I finished pumping, I released a cursed shout,
Because I could hear some air leaking out.

My ears were correct; the boat had been torn,
A microscopic hole from a goat-head thorn.

Now, my temper was about to explode,
A repair kit does you no good left at your abode!

Then came an idea, one that was bold,
I’d patch ‘er with med tape, in hopes that she’d hold.

We finally put-in, and what made me smile,
Were all the small setbacks that took such a while.

We ferried into current, and I must say,
Right then and there all cares washed away.

During the run I’d eddy-out and pause,
I felt full of joy, like jolly ol’ Claus.

And returning to work, it became no bother,
‘cause I could help others be ‘First On the Water!’

Tyler Harris
NRS Customer Service & Poet Laureate  

Tyler looking both ways before crossing the river
Tyler looking both ways before crossing the river.
©Darren Kellogg

"Wake up and smell the Potlatch"
"Wake up and smell the Potlatch"
©Darren Kellogg

At NRS it’s impossible to escape the enduring urge to go paddling; even in late December with snow on the ground and holiday cheer in the air. Most offices in the United States have a large portion of their workers out on vacation during the holiday season, and NRS is no exception.
Darren dropping over a small pour-over.
Darren dropping over a small pour-over.
©Tyler Harris

The closest river to us here in Moscow is the “Mighty Potlatch”, a small river that’s mainly paddled in the spring during run off. But every now and then, if there is enough rain, it will jump from almost nil to 1-3 thousand CFS, providing a much appreciated playground for local paddlers.

It had been raining, snowing and melting for the past few days, so I decided to check the Potlatch gauge…1,400 CFS!!! A post Christmas miracle of sorts; this almost never happens. I quickly spoke to a few other associates to see if any of them wanted to do an early morning run down the Potlatch. There was lots of interest but one thing was keeping us from getting on the water: . Who would cover our shifts the next morning? As we discussed the matter, Gator, one of the Wholesale account managers, overheard our discussion and said he would rally some troops to cover part of our morning shift. The word was passed - “7:00 a.m. in front of Kendrick City Park. See you tomorrow!”

I awoke the next morning at 7:23 a.m. in a semi-panicked state - I was late. What should I do? Stay home or…run to Kendrick to see if I could catch the guys on their second run? Go to Kendrick! I jumped in my pickup and sped off, thankful I had loaded all my gear the night before. As I drove past the city park, I wasn’t surprised to see no one there, so I headed up to the take out spot. I drove along the river, continually struggling to keep my eyes on the road and not on the river. I thought back to the first time I had paddled the Potlatch two years earlier. It was here that I received my first taste of whitewater kayaking, performed my first river roll and surfed a wave for the first time.

The winding canyon road made me snap out of my nostalgic thoughts and back to reality. Before I knew it I passed over the bridge that marked the take out, but to my surprise, no one was there. I headed upstream to the put in, but no one was there either. “I guess everyone decided to stay home. Well, it’s cold and the river might not have been that good anyway,” I consoled myself as I headed back downriver. As I rounded a corner, I was very surprised to see Tyler pass me in his Jeep. I quickly stopped, turned around and drove back to meet him in a small turnout. As I pulled in, I saw he was in full boating gear; dry suit half-on with the arms wrapped around his waist. He told me he had driven to Juliaetta, a nearby town, to see if I had inadvertently stopped there.

After a short discussion, we hopped in our rigs and drove to the take out. While dropping off the shuttle, Tyler noticed two river otters playing and swimming down the river. I was surprised to see them in such a small river as the Potlatch. I unsuccessfully tried to coax them to the shore but they were wary of the tall guy making funny noises. With the river otters gone, we loaded into my truck and drove to the put in.

”Sweet, this is going to be great,” I thought to myself as I put on my gear and Tyler pumped up his MaverIK. I heard him say something and turned around to see him staring at the pump with a bewildered look on his face. “Its not working, I should have checked it before I left.” After a few minutes of investigation, we found the problem (dry/frozen O-ring) and fixed the pump. Tyler continued to pump, but much to our dismay, we heard a faint hissing noise coming from the one of the tubes. At first Tyler thought it was a valve but then he found a goat- head thorn had wedged itself between the side tube and the floor, puncturing it upon inflation. I was starting to wonder if we had really made the right choice in coming up here. But it’s amazing what you can fix with a combination of electrical and medical tape! After Tyler had patched the pinhole, which amazingly enough held, we slid into our boats and finally headed down the river, admiring the ice covered rocks and playing in the river foam.

Darren setting-up
Darren setting-up
©Tyler Harris

Eddying out below one rapid, I thought back to a previous trip when a group of us got piled up too close to each other while running this same rapid. At one point on the line you need to grab one of two eddies in order to make an easy ferry and, to miss a log that sits 1-3 feet out of the water. By the time I arrived, both eddies were full. I missed the ferry and bumped into the log at the bottom but was able to lean and push my way around without getting stuck. My buddy behind me wasn’t as lucky. With nowhere to go he hit a rock going pretty fast, which caused him to do an inadvertent splat move, gracefully followed by a 1-point window shade. He then floated underneath the log upside down (whew!), and rolled up before the last few holes and waves at the bottom. A good reminder why you go paddling with buddies. One, to help you in case of trouble and two, to tell everyone else what happened.

As I continued down, I thought back on other experiences I’ve had on this river. The spot were I took a swiftwater rescue class from Charlie Walbridge and the two small, unnamed rapids where the importance of wearing a helmet got banged into my head. It was too bad we didn’t have the whole day to continue our short adventure, but we did hurry up and get in a second run.

Before I knew it, we were at the take out after our second run. I quickly peeled off my dry wear, jumped into my truck and headed back to the office. Another great experience, one more to add to the many I’ve had while working at NRS!

Darren Kellogg
NRS Customer Service