by Mike Davidson

In the summer of 1978, the Rio Grande was low. It was my second year as a Rio Grande guide. With the river almost dry, I went to Austin to pound nails. These were pre-Weather Channel days (pre-television days in South Brewster County); you didn’t know that a tropical weather system was into the Conchos drainage until the skies opened.

Tropical Storm Paul came ashore in late September to find full reservoirs holding as much water as possible for the next irrigation season. Not only was it raining cats and dogs all over the watershed, the dams were releasing as much water as they could and keeping their fingers crossed that they would not spill out of control.

I got the call that the river was 16 feet at Lajitas, and a Far Flung team with Uncle Steve and Wildman had run Santa Elena Canyon in 3 hours. At the time, boaters were prohibited from running Santa Elena when the Lajitas gage read over 5 feet. We had been on water much higher than 5 feet several times when rains would bring the river up while we were on multi-day camping trips. The team had informed Park Rangers that they were going for it; the Rangers waited at the take out to give them all a ticket and fine.

Since the national park had made its policy crystal clear, we decided to rendezvous at La Linda to run the Lower Canyons as close to peak flow as possible. I drove in from Austin, and went down to see the river at 20 feet or so, but did not find the team. I doubled back to Stillwell store and called the Far Flung Adventures office in Terlingua. What I heard was astounding: the river would crest at about 30 feet 3 days later, and I should head back and help prep for the trip.

I hung up the pay phone and went in to the store where I found Hallie Stilwell and Dady Potter. “Oh Mike,” they said, “we’re so glad you are here. We heard some gang of nutballs was going to run the river today, and we thought you might help us talk them out of it.”

Dr. Dwight Deal, eminent geologist and co-founder of Chihuahuan Desert Research Institute, was one of the nutballs, and he was able to get flow and release data out of Mexico through his contacts at USGS. We were able to accurately predict when the flood crest would pass at La Linda. We showed up at the peak, and waited until the river dropped two feet before we launched. Launching before a flooding river or creek crests is foolish: floating debris is a major hazard. Most of it washes through by the time the river crests.

We were concerned about rapids, and we knew that with the river so high, we might not always be able to find a place to scout, especially at Lower Madison (Burro Bluff), the biggest drop on the river. Being basically chickens, we pitched in for a couple hours airplane time to scout the primary canyon section where all the rapids are, and took some Polaroids.

After reviewing available data, we decided to run, and made a plan. After the river passes La Linda, it goes through Temple Canyon, and after 11 miles, arrives at the confluence of Maravillas Creek, where there is road access. The river crested early afternoon, within inches of the bottom of the bridge.

We waited until we were certain that the river was dropping, and we launched our 3 rafts with the intent to camp at Maravillas Creek. We would have an evening to debrief and one last chance to abort before continuing to the next access point 75 miles downstream. If in the first section any of us had doubts about the wisdom of our “nutball expedition,” someone could walk out to Black Gap Headquarters and send for the vehicles.

There is nothing like 30 feet of water squeezing into narrow canyon walls to keep the senses alert and in tune. At almost 100,00 cubic feet per second, it took about an hour to go 11 miles, and we rowed up the calm backwater into Maravillas Creek, and found dry land at least half a mile from the center of the river channel.

Over grilled steaks and cold beer, we discussed prospects for the next day, all eager to continue.

The river dropped a couple of feet overnight, but it made little apparent difference in the intensity and velocity of the river. We approached Hot Springs Rapid, normally one of the more interesting drops, with some trepidation, but found it entirely washed out. If not for recognizable landmarks like Asa Jones Pumphouse and Arroyo San Rocendo, we would have not known that normally there is a class 4 rapid at that location.  

The rapids at Burro Bluff (Lower Madison) was not washed out at all, and we could hear it from a long way upstream. Our aerial reconnaissance showed that there was no feasible way to scout the rapid, but that we definitely wanted to avoid the right side. On the right there was about a 20-foot drop off into a crashing hole filled with boulders and logs.  

To our great relief, there was a huge, smooth tongue middle left, where we encountered rolling transverse waves at least 20 feet from trough to crest. Their frequency and the fact that they were not breaking made in into one of the most enjoyable roller coaster rides imaginable. Didn’t take on a drop of water.

Due to proper planning and respect for the power of a flooding river, we made it the entire way without mishap.  Perhaps some of our preparations were overkill, but better so than taking off without a clue.

The reality of river running is that many accidents occur in easy, routine conditions when the boater is not paying attention, rather than wild stuff where the pucker factor is level orange (elevated). Injuries and fatalities on the river usually stem from a dangerous combination of poor planning, inadequate equipment, and lack of training by the team in extreme conditions.

For some die-hard river rats, running big, scary water is what they dream of. However, even experienced boaters can be soundly thrashed if they do not use proper judgment, equipment, and technique at all times.

The key to consistent, successful river running in all conditions is having trained participants who practice rigorous mutual support while on the water. There should always be at least two boats on any trip that might pose out-of-the ordinary risks.

Mutual support is not merely keeping each other in sight; it means staying on each other’s rear end.

When the lead boat accelerates into a rapid or drop, it quickly leaves the following boats behind. If the second boat is not right on the tail of the first, it becomes extremely difficult for them to lend a hand to the crew of the first boat if a mishap occurs. In the predominantly laminar flow that constitutes the “thalweg,” or deepest channel in a stream or river, the fastest water is not on top. The current a foot or two deep is fastest. A swimmer is carried along by the faster, deeper current, whereas a raft is on slower water with the additional impediment of air resistance. It is difficult to affect rescue in a stern chase with a swimmer, until the swimmer hits calmer water, at which point the danger is mostly over anyway.

Even the most practiced crews have a hard time providing close support in big water, and in some cases, self-rescue is all that’s left. Resourceful boaters who anticipate potential problems can learn a few simple techniques. Rafts can be equipped with “flip lines”, and in case of a capsize, one or two crew members climb up on to the overturned craft and using their weight, the current, and these lines, they can quickly right a boat, get back on the sticks, and recover the rest of their team.

Most importantly, techniques and equipment are of no avail if there is no plan. Everybody needs to know what they and their teammates will do for as many eventualities as can be anticipated.

Always train for the worst-case scenario.

It is an indescribable feeling to be part of a crack team, one that has trained and worked together consistently enough to  trust each other’s judgment and skills in difficult situations. It enables high adventure with minimal, manageable risks.  

Experience is wonderful, but it not as important as simply knowing how to take all the precautions possible. By current standards, almost 30 years later, the participants in our 1978 adventure did not have a lot of experience. They were eager to gain experience, but didn’t want to get beat up or killed in the process.