Left to Right: Jordan, Champ, Tori, and Colin practicing our safety speeches,
the most difficult part of training
First and Last Visit to Shelf Road. One of Colin's first time rock climbing,
Jag getting ready to belay
The Sangre de Cristo's are in the background
This farm was about a mile away from where I lived.
This is Neverland, our outdoor lounge. To the left is the trailer with kitchen in it, to the right is my humble abode known as the Pigeon Coop.
The play park in the middle of town was the place to be on the really hot days we weren't already on the river. The kayakers were amazing, doing front flips, 360s, and all other sorts of crazy looking shit. The two boaters with the green boat are Claus and Hammer from Raftmasters.
Ah Home Sweet Home
Then after 19 days of training, I finally had my certification run. I could not become a raft guide until I met our trainer BLs expectations. First cert run, I got bumped off the trip. Logistics. Second cert run, bumped. Third cert run, bumped. I was beginning to think the the river god, Skag, was displeased. This thought was solidified after I finally got on the river for my cert run and then the Royal Gorge caught fire.
Photo Credit: Colin Mender
Even though the trip was a complete shit show, with park rangers yelling at us from the shore to get out of the river, to communication screw ups between the guides, and the fear of approaching flames, I managed to pass my cert run. Now that I was a raft guide, all I needed was a job.
Hiring day.
I wasn't nervous. Not in the slightest. I had every intention of getting the job. I knew where my skills placed me among the rest of my training group. Up until that day it had been about camaraderie, now it was a competition. We were all running seriously low on money, none of us had made any in over five weeks. I was third to last to get called in. They told me how the fire had made hiring extremely difficult. Even the senior guides weren't getting any trips, they weren't going to hire people they couldn't give work to.
My stomach dropped.
Then they asked me if I wanted to work at Raftmasters. In Idaho Springs. On the Clear Creek.
Not in Canon City, on the Arkansas River in Big Horn Sheep Canyon.
Of course I said yes. I needed a job but I knew a new river, new place, and new people certainly wasn't going to be easy.
Most people didn't get hired. Of the seven I lived with, only one got the job. But of course they should hire him, he had been boating since he was 5.
They told me I should get up there tomorrow. Now we only had one last drunken night together. I started packing, so that I could leave whenever I really wanted to. Plus it takes me a really long time to pack. It was an uncomfortable night. No one knew what to do. Once the shock of unemployment wore off, the job hunt was one. People updated their river logs and called all the surrounding companies. The fire had royally screwed over the entire city. They looked elsewhere, at other rivers, including the Clear Creek.
My drive to the creek took longer then expected, but I was in no hurry. I stopped and checked out the Garden of the Gods..
There was some sick rock climbing there and I was kinda bummed I didn't have a climbing partner. But at least photos can take themselves!
By my second night in Idaho springs, five of my job seeking friends were as well. By the third night there were three, Tori and Jordan had left for the Flatiron river in Montana. Now the four of us left work for three different companies here on the creek, and were all homeless. So we are staying together at a free campground about 8 miles outside of town. I certed out two days ago on the Gnar, as in the Begin(gnar) stretch, a quick six mile shot through town.
I'll be putting up more pictures when I find a place to develop film.
"Rise free from care before the dawn and seek adventure"
