Local whitewater fun, dangerous

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What happened to Kevins Mezick and Adcock, of Knoxville, on the Clear Fork River last week isn’t so different from what’s happened to a number of other unfortunate canoeists on the Big South Fork or its tributaries over the years.

Mezick’s and Adcock’s adventure on the Clear Fork — after getting a late start, they flipped their canoe a few times and were forced to spend a night on the river — made headlines region-wide. What thrust their misfortune into the public light was worried family members contacting authorities and National Park Service rangers beginning a search for the delayed paddlers. Aside from that, their plight is a tale repeated by dozens of paddlers who have tackled local whitewater over the years.

That isn’t to make light of the two men’s circumstances. Being forced to spend the night on the river in wet clothing with temperatures plunging into the 30s is never a fun ordeal. In fact, it’s borderline dangerous (fortunately, Mezick and Adcock had a lighter with which to start a fire).
But there’s more than a few canoeists who can read their story, smile, and say “been there, done that.”

Myself included.

I’ve made quite a few trips down the Big South Fork over the years. At various times, I’ve traveled the entire Clear Fork and Big South Fork from Peter’s Bridge in Fentress County to Blue Heron, Ky. It’s a beautiful river, that goes from mostly peaceful, small waters to powerful, raging whitewater and back to mostly peaceful, gently flowing waters again between Brewster Ford and Leatherwood.

Parts of the river — especially the famed stretch from the confluence of Clear Fork and New River on down to O&W Bridge — should never be attempted by the inexperienced. On the rest of it, there will inevitably be those who decide to learn as they go . . . trial by fire, so to speak. The result can range from anything so simple as a capsized boat to something as complicated as a broken boat.

Regardless of the section of river, it’s imperative that paddlers have an understanding of what to expect and be prepared. The unfortunate accident at Angel Falls earlier this month, which claimed the life of a 61-year-old Knoxville man, is an excellent example. Tony Evans and his companions were swept into the dangerous Angel Falls rapid after missing their intended portage. And Evans wasn’t wearing a life jacket.

All are mistakes that I have made. Several years ago, a couple of novice paddlers (one of which is writing this column) decided to forego portage at Devil’s Jump near Blue Heron. We managed to make it to shore unscathed. The canoe wasn’t so lucky.

Attempting Devil’s Jump when you don’t know what you’re doing is no laughing matter. Other incidents I’ve experienced over the years are a little more humorous . . . such as an incident a few years ago when myself and three others attempted a rafting trip from Brewster to Burnt Mill. The water was too low to attempt such a trip, and we spent more time dragging our boats than riding in them. That is, until the wear from the rocks eventually made a hole in one of the boats, leaving us stranded at an impromptu riverside campsite while glue used to patch the boat cured overnight.

Then there’s the lifejacket issue. If you’ve ever found yourself at the mercy of fast-flowing whitewater without the benefit of a PFD, you realize that there’s a fine line between bravery and stupidity. Any stretch of the BSF and its tributaries can flip a boat . . . especially a canoe. The Clear Fork is relatively gentle, consisting of only class I and class II rapids. But over the years, we’ve found lost fishing gear, paddles and a few busted boats (including a canoe earlier this year) up and down the river.

But there will always be those who choose their trials by fire, and busted boats and lost gear along the river will continue to be examples of that.
“You may have been a day late, but the fact that you floated your boat to Burnt Mill Bridge rather than having to walk out, and that you didn’t lose any gear, is proof that it turned out well for you guys,” I commented to Mezick during a telephone conversation last week.

“Yeah, about 15 minutes after we started floating the second day, we found a raft that had been just ripped to shreds,” he said. “It looked like a Wal-Mart raft. You gotta be out of your mind to take a Wal-Mart raft down that river.”

As he said that, I couldn’t help but laugh.

Been there, done that.