Slammed!

Eric and I put-in half a mile above Carter Bridge Rapids at Fish Creek Campgrounds where there is a break in the rapids. Eric's advice to me for the day: Look where you want to go.

Right. What he really meant: Don't stare at the frothy mass of water pounding into the river wall or else that is where you will end up.

Eric had a good reason to lecture me. Two weeks earlier, I ran a slammer rapid and flipped just above where the river bends. As I was underwater, setting myself up for a roll, I was certain I would be pancaked against the wall. Mercifully, the river spat me out at the last moment like a sour apple. I rolled up and continued my way down. Eric, who was with me, looked ashen.

The first rapid is small, but it's a slammer practice for those to come later. Since I was paddling my Dagger Vengeance, a rodeo playboat, I knew I would have to work a little harder than usual to avoid squashing in the wall. But, here was the catch. Wherever there is a slammer, there is usually a violent eddy lurking below, waiting to grab your boat as a lizard grabs an insect with its tongue.

At higher water, these turbulent eddies become whirlpools and the Clackamas is famous for them. At a different section, there is a rapid called Hole-in-the-Wall and its swirly eddy line has been known to circulate logs, boats and people for hours. A watery merry-go-around ride, except this one does not stop and let you get off.

Our first major rapid of the day, Carter Bridge Rapids, is a river-wide ledge with a narrow chute on river left. This slot is blocked by a chain of gaping holes, which can be easily punched if you don't hesitate. As I jabbed my way down through the holes, something caught my eye—a huge thorn. This thorn turned out to be a mammoth boulder sitting behind the last pour-over, waiting for the unwary boater. Quickly, I ducked out of the way, with the tail of my boat narrowly grazing the rock.

The next half mile are a series of small rapids—good play spots for surfing waves and practicing squirting the end of your boat in the current. Then comes the first of the three big slammers: Crag, or Sling Shot, as some kayakers call it. Looking ahead, I could see a furious pile churning on river right, where the walls bend. Stirring just below the headwall is one of the most powerful eddy lines on the Clackamas.

"Don't look at headwall," said Eric as he paddled in front of me. With his bright orange boat bobbing ahead, I followed behind and teeter-tottered over the wave train like a toy sailboat. As I approached the hole above the pillow, I forced my gaze towards the left eddy and paddled for all I was worth. Skirting the hole, I edged my way out of the current, well away from the river wall. One slammer down, two more to go.

Our next challenge was Big Eddy. The name is appropriate, as this is the place where locals warn visiting boaters about getting sucked into a whirlpool. Because the river widens suddenly below the headwall, combined with a strong current, a big whirlpool often forms in the eddy at higher flows. Fortunately, there was none today. Although I managed to escape from the wall again, my margin was much smaller.

The 200-meter section below this rapid is one of my favorite parts of the Clackamas. Here, the river mellows out for a reprieve from intense whitewater, letting out a long, deep breath. Hairpinning into a complete S, the river is dotted with dome-shaped granite boulders. On the far left, a towering cliff grabs your attention, and on the far right is a lovely, crescent beach.

The serenity is fleeting, as the next two rapids are the most difficult and technical in the Fish Creek section. The first is a steep rock garden, with pummeling holes every which way you look. Skewering against a rock becomes the thought of the moment.

Taking a middle line, I eased my kayak over the first hole, squeezed through a left slot and came face to face with a VW bug-sized hole. The maw was deep. Boofing off a rock, I buried my bow into the watery abyss and prayed I would stay upright. With a powerful WHOOMP to the chest, I managed to keep my kayak right side up.

Lurking ahead was Toilet-Bowl rapid. Not only is there a minefield of rocks at the top of the rapid, not only are the standing waves the biggest in the Oregon Cascades, it is also the mother of all slammers. Here, billions of gallons of water powerdrive against the headwall in a constricting funnel.

I followed Eric's line through the hodgepodge of boulders at the top with my heart in my throat. As I descended into the massive wave train in what seemed like slo-mo, I spotted a steep diagonal wave with an attitude. Created from the back flow off the headwall, this wave would flip any kayak whose bow was off-centered by the smallest degree. My bow was way off-center. I was spanked into the water and for the second time in two weeks, I wondered if I would be splattered against the wall. Again, the river was forgiving, and pushed me away at the last second.

After rolling up, I felt a surge of adrenaline and let out an animalistic whoop. I could now add Fish Creek to my ever-expanding list of rivers run. Eric sat in the eddy below, with a wide grin on his face.