©2008
The most popular canoeing section of the Nantahala River is located in western North Carolina alongside US 19 between Andrews and Bryson City.. The eight-mile run requires water releases for electric power generation from Nantahala Lake, or the volume of water may be too little to float a canoe over the full distance. With the releases, it is a bold and formidable stream with class II-III (or IV?) rapids. At the end of the run is Nantahala Falls. In 1973, Nantahala Falls was rated a class V rapid by Randy Carter in his Canoeing White Water River Guide. However, subsequent developments in equipment have led to a general "improvement" in paddlers’ skills and a general reduction in the ratings of rapids, including that of Nantahala Falls. In recent years, some authors have rated the Falls a class III rapid (e.g., Sehlinger et al’s Appalachian Whitewater, Volume I, 1986; Smith’s Southeastern Whitewater, 1995), although others rate it a class IV at higher water levels (e.g., the Benners’ Carolina White Water, 1993; Nealy’s Whitewater Home Companion, Southeastern Rivers Volume I, 1981). There are, of course, many rapids on the Nantahala, but the Falls is the biggest.
When I first began canoeing in the mid-1970s, the Nanathala was the third river that I paddled; the Oconee in and near Athens, GA, was my first and the Chattahoochee between Cleveland and Clarksville, GA, was the second. Over the years I must have paddled the Nantahala at least 50 times, and it is a river on which I was usually comfortable. I had my share of involuntary "swims" on the Nantahala, mostly in the early days. When such swims occurred in recent years, it was usually because I was playboating (i.e., trying new moves, etc.), which doesn’t count against you as far as establishing your general skill level. However, this recent trip to the Nantahala came after 3-4 years in which I did very little canoeing and what canoeing I did was usually on the gentler Broad River nearer to my Athens, GA, home, a river that I have paddled, maybe, 250 times. In 2003, I increased my paddling frequency and branched out from the Broad to include once again the Chattahoochee. All was going well until I made some changes in my canoe which were still incomplete when I had an unexpected swim on the Chattahoochee in Horseshoe Rapid (class III) which, even this year, I had been running well. The following week, I "swam" unexpectedly on the Broad, and a few weeks later I "swam" in Stegall Mills Falls, a class III rapid on the Cartecay River which, again, is a rapid that I usually ran successfully. While I might "explain away" the swims on the Chattahoochee and the Broad as being affected by the new and still incomplete alterations of my canoe that affected my and its performance, the modifications were completed when I swam the Cartecay. Such swims had been mostly "history" for me, so I had to wonder if time and ageing were taking its toll (I just turned 64).
Successful Run at Stegall Mill Falls on Cartecay River
Thus, my return to the Nantahala was accompanied by a greater than usual amount of anxiety, especially about paddling the Falls. With my recently undermined confidence, I had even begun to view paddling the Nantahala as being "now or never." Anyway, my good friend Bill McDaniel, a highly accomplished kayaker, agreed to join me. After his drive to Athens from Milledgeville (in UGA football game traffic no less) and our drive together for the remaining 150 miles to the Nantahala and after accomplishing the necessary shuttle arrangements, we launched about 3:45 PM. It was a warm (low 80s) sunny day, but as always, the 43 degree river water from the bottom of Lake Nantahala kept things cool on the river.
Patton’s Run, the first rapid to appear, and the next-to-largest on this section of the river, is about 200 yards and one-two minutes after launching. My run though Patton’s was conservative, and although I took on some water, which is almost impossible to avoid there in a canoe, a quick pull ashore to dump the water took care of that. Too much water in a canoe significantly reduces its maneuverability.
Part of the fun of canoeing, is "playing" in the rapids. Among other things, this means (1) catching eddies, which are relatively calm pools of water behind rocks or other obstructions in the midst of fast flowing water including rapids, (2) ferrying facing upstream across strong flows to catch small eddies on the other side, (3) "surfing" in the standing waves, etc., and (4) "climbing" rapids which can be done on some of them by ferrying and eddy-hopping upstream. The alternative to such "playing"is to run straight through the fast water or rapids which is, I suppose, being conservative. Playing is an end into itself, but it also hones skills one might need in other circumstances.
I held off playing until I was feeling increasingly comfortable, and took my first shot at catching the eddy just below Pyramid Rock which is about 1.5 miles from the launch area. An eddy on down river right just past Pyramid Rock is fairly easy to catch, but no sure thing. I caught it easily and began to contemplate a ferry across the river’s very strong current to catch a small eddy on the opposite side. Missing the small eddy can leave you descending a ledge backwards or sideways within a powerful flow of rock strewn water, unless you can make a quick corrective turn to paddle facing downstream with the flow. Incidentally, the distance across the river there from the first to the second eddy is about 30-40 feet or about two to three lengths of my 13 foot canoe. Just as I attempted to catch the small eddy, I felt a cramp coming on in my right thigh, so I abandoned the attempt to enter the eddy and directed my effort to correcting my position for the remaining descent through the rapid. The recent change I made in my canoe was to install a kneeling thwart (rather than a saddle or seat) which means you are on tightly bent knees most of the time. My trip through the rapid went well, and out of the rapid I was able to pull ashore, stretch my leg, and stop the cramp before it "caught hold."
The trip continued well, including the "big hole" at the end of Quarry Run that usually results in a boat full of water. I took in a lot of water but less than I usually do. I was gaining confidence, and as we proceeded down river, I played some but not too much, as I was always mindful of conserving my energy for the inevitable possibility of the Falls. I will confess that I am not too proud to skip running the Falls, or any rapid, if I think that doing so is in my best interest on a given day, and at the start of this trip down the Nantahala I had by no means decided that I would run the Falls. That decision would be made after I had seen how I was doing and how I felt. However, the decision that I would run the Falls was made relatively early, perhaps sometime after Delabar’s Rock or the previously mentioned "big hole" which is about one-third the way down this eight-mile stretch of the river. Having made the decision to run the Falls, I also became even more acutely attuned to how much I wanted to conserve effort in playing. As we went along, I did play some but less than I might have in the past.
About 6:00 P.M. we reached the Falls area. Approximately 150 yards above the Falls is a nicely constructed concrete "beaching area" provided by the Forest Service within the past few years. It is a place where some people take off the river while others use it to land and walk ahead to scout their runs of the Falls. I had done my scouting earlier as we drove by, which in my case meant spotting the tree I use as a landmark for a turn into Truckstop Eddy just above the Falls. The tree was as I remembered it. Beaching for me in this case served to empty some accumulated water from my canoe and to stretch my legs from kneeling so long. Bill lingered nearby in his kayak, as kayaks are paddled from a seated position and one is "sealed" into the kayak which prevents the entry of water. Within a minute or so, I was ready to go. I reapplied my helmet (removed shortly after Patton’s Run) and launched for the Falls. I told Bill I planned to catch Truckstop Eddy, the midpoint of which is about 10 yards above the Falls, and Bill said his first stop would be Billboard Eddy which is about 75 yards above the Falls. I expected that Bill would eddy-hop his way to the Falls, catching eddies I had never attempted. Incidentally, Billboard rock resembles a billboard, and Truckstop bears its name for obvious reasons, a large eddy, metaphorically but not literally, big enough to park a tractor truck and trailer. From end to end the eddy is about 30 feet long and about 4-5 feet wide at its widest.
Allow me to explain what catching eddies accomplishes for you in running a rapid like Nantahala Falls. Mainly, it slows you down and enables you to then re-enter the flow with greater boat control. If you don’t catch eddies preceding rapids such as the Falls, the water is very fast, and you will likely be going fast when you reach the Falls. Depending on what else may have happened or be happening, such as huge rafts with as many as eight people barreling down towards you, you may have fewer options and a lot less control on where and how you enter the Falls themselves. The river is highly constricted at the Falls, resulting in a large volume of forceful water.
Most descents of the Falls appear to involve one of three routes. Probably the least chosen route (usually it is not "chosen" but is inadvertently taken) is river left at the Falls. This option ranges from the left bank out to about 40% of the distance across the river. Here the water pours over at a steep angle, more or less vertically, a height of about 10 feet. This route is least preferred, because in the past it had fatalities due to foot entrapment at the base of the Falls by out-of-boat paddlers who followed the old dictum of "swimming" feet first in rapids (to avoid head injuries). The newer advice for Nantahala Falls is for swimmers to ball up when going over the Falls. After two fatalities in the early 1990s, efforts were made to fill the crevices that caused the foot entrapments with concrete and rocks, and there has not been a subsequent fatality there as far as I know.
The second most used but still low frequency route is river right at the Falls. Here about 15% of the river’s width is blocked by a cabin-sized boulder. Beyond what is blocked by the boulder and out to about 40% of the river’s width is a ledge over which water flows and creates a small "keeper hydraulic" below the ledge. That is a person, canoe, kayak, or raft can be held for some time in the recirculating water behind the ledge if one is caught there. Nevertheless, if one paddles straight over the ledge with good momentum, a canoe can easily punch through and over the hydraulic and gain the strong stream of water that flows over the Falls there. The best way to run this route is to approach it from the small eddy ("Microeddy") on river right, just upriver of the large boulder. From Microeddy, you can peel out towards the center of the main river flow, pass over the ledge, hydraulic, and the Falls.
By far the most frequently used route to descend the Falls is near mid-river between the first and second routes already described. The water flow here angles rightward in an arc that begins about 10 yards above the Falls and continues through the Falls. Optimally controlled runs by canoes and kayaks are best made here by catching Truckstop Eddy and peeling out from there to mid-river and into the arcing streamflow. Most upsets of boats in the Falls themselves, including the larger rafts, involve failing to stay within in this arcing stream and getting into a strong cross-current set up by the flows associated with river left flow.
Successful descents of the Falls for most paddlers include (a) avoiding the river left pour-over route, (b) avoiding a bad angle if one passes over the ledge with the hydraulic, and (c) avoiding the cross currents near the bottom of the Falls. Most sp ills of canoes, kayaks, and rafts at the Falls are due to getting caught out of control in that cross-current.
After leaving the launching area above the Falls, I felt I had good control as I followed the main flow leading to the Falls. Bill was in Billboard Eddy when I passed there as he said he would be. I spotted my marker tree just ahead on the left for Truckstop Eddy. As I approached the point where I needed to make my turn to catch Truckstop. I realized I was just right of center in the main flow, which included some relatively large standing waves, instead of left of center as, optimally, I needed to be. Crossing back over those standing waves can be both difficult and time-consuming...time that will get you to the edge of the Falls in about 5-10 seconds. Flashing before me were my options, namely, (1) go for Truckstop as planned but which would now be a challenge that might fail and leave me desperately trying to correct course at the last second before going over the Falls, (2) stay with the flow and work on attaining a good entry near the middle in the right-arcing streamflow over the waterfall, or (3) now that I was right of the standing waves, go for Microeddy above the house-sized boulder.
I could not remember whether I had ever caught the Microeddy that way. That is, in the past I had attained Microeddy by first catching Truckstop and then ferrying over from Truckstop. In fact, that was the route of choice when I have had my best-controlled runs of the Falls, and had I caught Truckstop today, I planned to ferry over to Microeddy. Anyway, among the three options, I felt reasonably confident that I could catch Microeddy, and that was the choice I made. I gained Microeddy with surprising ease, which gave me a shot of pleasure and a deep draught of satisfaction! From my perch in Microeddy, I could see Bill easily hopping his way from eddy to eddy as he played the river above the Falls. After a few seconds, I peeled out to make the run over the ledge, over the hydraulic and just to the right of the arcing stream flow. My chosen path was filled with powerfully flowing water, and mostly all that I could see ahead was white froth and a big, deep wave at the bottom of the Falls. I went straight through and over the wave as smoothly as I had ever been able to do. If fact, I had the driest run of the Falls that I can remember, that is, no water added to the canoe. Bill came on through in complete control as I had come to expect of him. It was a happy end to a most satisfying run on the Nantahala River. Nevertheless, I am sure that the next time I go, soon I hope, some of the "butterflies" in the stomach will still be there, especially when once again I approach Nantahala Falls!
