Rat Snakes, Rubber & Root - Cossatot Trip Report
Posted: Sun Mar 24, 2013 1:01 pm
You might find it odd that an ARG (Arkansas Raft Guides) Cossatot trip report would begin by talking about snakes. But, great literature, like great rock music, needs a hook. So snakes it is.
As everyone in the Arkansas paddling community knows, Cowper's name is synonymous with punctuality. As a result of his FIFO approach to boating he's always the first to set the shuttle, launch, run the river, and crack open a cold one at the take out. But Saturday was different. Somehow a rat snake went feral inside the Cowper/Debo hacienda and he had to look for it before he could head out for the 'Tot (his wonderful spouse and her band (Debo and the Stay Puft Marshmallow Men) were practicing in the garage, and rat snakes HATE disco music). So, Cowper's snake search delayed him, causing him to be among the LAST to arrive at Ed Banks bridge. Eat Water (who was just shoving off): "Cap'n Downstream and ARG left a few minutes ago." Cowper: "See you in June!"
Speaking of Ed Banks bridge, many thanks to whatever governmental agency is responsible for blocking the entrance with huge boulders, making it much harder to get rafts from shuttle vehicles to the water. Apparantly our great nation's Air Traffic Control System is vulnerable to sequestration-related budget cuts (no safety issue there), but the line item for Moving Large Stones Into Places That Annoy Rafters is not (Regnat Populus my a$$).
The ARG lineup consisted of Ranger Rick and I rowing a Super Puma and a Spider, and Cap'n Downstream, Buttload and Seth (a 'Tot first timer?) R3ing a Super Puma. Eat Water met us at 10 at the take out to set the shuttle. Lots of kwakheads (20? 25?) and several open boats (including Lupe, who gets major props from the RBF* for having the good sense to abandon her little plastic death trap of a kayak for a Mad River Outrage). When we launched the river was running about 4.2, a nice level (current has covered most of the rocks but hasn't gotten pushy).
* Speaking of Lupe and the RBF, I think one of her first trips with ACC types was about 10 years ago on the treacherous Poonanny section of the Mulberry (Redding to Turner Bend). That was back when Kenny** had two good hips and a rubber chicken on his helmet. We "showed her the lines" and displayed the type of hospitality and boating skills that make the RBF the elite paddling organization that it is today. As I recall (Heather correct me if I'm wrong), she had just moved or was in the process of moving to Arkansas from Oklahoma, and her first real Arkansas paddling day trip companions were members the RBF. Talk about her lucky day. I like to think she has risen to a leadership position in the ACC because, after that experience, she had nowhere to go but up. You're welcome, Lupe.
** Speaking of Kenny (the soul and beating heart of the RBF), he's just back from Mayo Clinic with a new left hip. In 6 to 8 months if everything goes well with the left hip they'll put the right one back in too. That will be a good thing because the ACC without Kenny is like, I don't know, the Buffalo without hog farms (No. Wait a minute. That's a bad thing. Anyway, you get my drift).
But I digress - back to 'Tot. Cap'n Downstream and the paddle boat disappeared immediately around the corner at Z Drag or Z Curve or Zig Zag or whatever the name of that first rapid is. I tangled with the overhanging cedar tree because that's just how I roll. Whatever boat I'm in must be attracted to the resin in that tree, because I always manage to hit it with my boat, helmet, PFD, paddle, oar, gunwale, tube, frame, painter, etc.). This time I attacked it with my right eye. "Hey David - there's a tree there," was Ranger Rick's helpful advice (AFTER it nearly undressed me).
The Esses were filled in at this level and so were a little less fun than usual. We caught up to the paddle boat at Sand Bar bridge and said hi to Billy Williams who had driven down, "waiting for the weather to warm up." The paddle boat disappeared again, but slowed enough above the Falls for a few of us to catch it. The rafts ran Cossatosser and Eye Opener, then boat scouted BMF and the Machine. There wasn't quite enough water to run them over the top so we ran the conventional line (perpendicular to the drop then a hard right turn at the bottom), and set up ropes below. Not one rope exited the bag as everybody who ran stayed upright or rolled up (although the Cannonball rock did kiss the bottom of Eat Water's Whitesell, resulting in one of the quickest low braces I've ever seen. Ranger Rick said he almost threw his rope anyway, but didn't because ARG does not exist for the purpose of having fun at the expense of others).
After the Falls section about half of the kwakheads carried back up to campground. A few (way to go Dan-O!) ran the Machine twice. There was minor carnage at Whiplash and Shoulderbone that is too insignificant to mention because it did not involve a kayak. Then lunch at Dead Dog Beach.
During lunch the aforementioned Cowper showed up, dragging Lazar, the Impossibly Named Ginger Root and a couple of others with him. That's when Tom Sawyer (disguised as Cowper) asked ARG for help white washing his fence (i.e., picking up trash). Sensing the worst, Ranger Rick preemptively banned him from ARG, but somehow we got sucked in anyhow, forming a new division of ARG in the process - the DWFCDTC* Division (*Dumba$$es Who Follow Cowper Down The Cossatot). Actually, come to think of it, I may have started it all when I carried a tiny little plastic bag around Dead Dog Beach offering to carry kayaker's lunch trash to the take out (one of many public services that ARG offers to the greater paddling community). The Cap'n made it worse by finding older trash lying around. Then Cowper/Tom Sawyer took it upon himself to fill up the ARG rowing rigs with whatever he could find between lunch and the take out (including a jagged, rusting, corroded, half of a piece of tin whistle, at which ARG drew the line ("Jagged" and "rubber" do not play well together)).
The run through the seemingly always bony Devil's Hollow Rapid was routine, although maybe I should mention my brief pin at the top of the rapid and slightly longer pin at the bottom (but I ran a perfect line though the middle 50 feet) (personally I blame it on the weight of the trash added to my raft (thank you Cowper/Tom Sawyer)).
About half of us ran the middle line at Devil's Hollow Falls, and about half ran the drop a few feet off the right bank. The Cap'n and the paddle boat had long since commenced their sprint to the take out, which I found odd because I had the keys to our shuttle rig with me in my raft and Walter (who was behind me) was taking the drivers back to the Ed Banks in his rig (oh well - we don't call him Cap'n Downstream for nuthin'). The Tom Sawyer Trash Recovery Expedition took Ranger Rick along a new route down the flatwater part of the 'Tot (the mile or so above the take out), which changed the Cossatot River to Cossatot Creek to Cossatot Ditch to Cossatot Mud Flat to Cossatot Drag-Your-Raft-Thru-The-Underbrush-Back-To-The-Channel.
The trip back to LR was unremarkable, except for Buttload's unexplained inability to divide $60 by 3 (Me: "Gordon - why didn't you just put $60 worth of gas on your debit card and the $40 cash that Rick and I gave you in your pocket? Gordon: "Because I'm not that (expletive deleted) smart").
No information yet on the whereabouts of the rat snake (or Debo and the Stay Puft Marshmallow Men's next gig).
P.S. I didn't see it (and we all know that ARG trip reports adhere to the highest journalistic standards for accuracy), but Lazar reports that the Impossibly Named Ginger Root (who refers to her Significant Other other as the Impossible Lance Jones (good comeback, GR!)), reports that the bow of GR's kayak got bucked up by the wave at (Eye Opener?) and did a spectacular back flip. Because of the delay caused by Cowper's rat snake search they were way behind the main group when it happened. ARG regrets that the lack of eyewitness confirmation prevents that event from receiving greater coverage in this report.
As everyone in the Arkansas paddling community knows, Cowper's name is synonymous with punctuality. As a result of his FIFO approach to boating he's always the first to set the shuttle, launch, run the river, and crack open a cold one at the take out. But Saturday was different. Somehow a rat snake went feral inside the Cowper/Debo hacienda and he had to look for it before he could head out for the 'Tot (his wonderful spouse and her band (Debo and the Stay Puft Marshmallow Men) were practicing in the garage, and rat snakes HATE disco music). So, Cowper's snake search delayed him, causing him to be among the LAST to arrive at Ed Banks bridge. Eat Water (who was just shoving off): "Cap'n Downstream and ARG left a few minutes ago." Cowper: "See you in June!"
Speaking of Ed Banks bridge, many thanks to whatever governmental agency is responsible for blocking the entrance with huge boulders, making it much harder to get rafts from shuttle vehicles to the water. Apparantly our great nation's Air Traffic Control System is vulnerable to sequestration-related budget cuts (no safety issue there), but the line item for Moving Large Stones Into Places That Annoy Rafters is not (Regnat Populus my a$$).
The ARG lineup consisted of Ranger Rick and I rowing a Super Puma and a Spider, and Cap'n Downstream, Buttload and Seth (a 'Tot first timer?) R3ing a Super Puma. Eat Water met us at 10 at the take out to set the shuttle. Lots of kwakheads (20? 25?) and several open boats (including Lupe, who gets major props from the RBF* for having the good sense to abandon her little plastic death trap of a kayak for a Mad River Outrage). When we launched the river was running about 4.2, a nice level (current has covered most of the rocks but hasn't gotten pushy).
* Speaking of Lupe and the RBF, I think one of her first trips with ACC types was about 10 years ago on the treacherous Poonanny section of the Mulberry (Redding to Turner Bend). That was back when Kenny** had two good hips and a rubber chicken on his helmet. We "showed her the lines" and displayed the type of hospitality and boating skills that make the RBF the elite paddling organization that it is today. As I recall (Heather correct me if I'm wrong), she had just moved or was in the process of moving to Arkansas from Oklahoma, and her first real Arkansas paddling day trip companions were members the RBF. Talk about her lucky day. I like to think she has risen to a leadership position in the ACC because, after that experience, she had nowhere to go but up. You're welcome, Lupe.
** Speaking of Kenny (the soul and beating heart of the RBF), he's just back from Mayo Clinic with a new left hip. In 6 to 8 months if everything goes well with the left hip they'll put the right one back in too. That will be a good thing because the ACC without Kenny is like, I don't know, the Buffalo without hog farms (No. Wait a minute. That's a bad thing. Anyway, you get my drift).
But I digress - back to 'Tot. Cap'n Downstream and the paddle boat disappeared immediately around the corner at Z Drag or Z Curve or Zig Zag or whatever the name of that first rapid is. I tangled with the overhanging cedar tree because that's just how I roll. Whatever boat I'm in must be attracted to the resin in that tree, because I always manage to hit it with my boat, helmet, PFD, paddle, oar, gunwale, tube, frame, painter, etc.). This time I attacked it with my right eye. "Hey David - there's a tree there," was Ranger Rick's helpful advice (AFTER it nearly undressed me).
The Esses were filled in at this level and so were a little less fun than usual. We caught up to the paddle boat at Sand Bar bridge and said hi to Billy Williams who had driven down, "waiting for the weather to warm up." The paddle boat disappeared again, but slowed enough above the Falls for a few of us to catch it. The rafts ran Cossatosser and Eye Opener, then boat scouted BMF and the Machine. There wasn't quite enough water to run them over the top so we ran the conventional line (perpendicular to the drop then a hard right turn at the bottom), and set up ropes below. Not one rope exited the bag as everybody who ran stayed upright or rolled up (although the Cannonball rock did kiss the bottom of Eat Water's Whitesell, resulting in one of the quickest low braces I've ever seen. Ranger Rick said he almost threw his rope anyway, but didn't because ARG does not exist for the purpose of having fun at the expense of others).
After the Falls section about half of the kwakheads carried back up to campground. A few (way to go Dan-O!) ran the Machine twice. There was minor carnage at Whiplash and Shoulderbone that is too insignificant to mention because it did not involve a kayak. Then lunch at Dead Dog Beach.
During lunch the aforementioned Cowper showed up, dragging Lazar, the Impossibly Named Ginger Root and a couple of others with him. That's when Tom Sawyer (disguised as Cowper) asked ARG for help white washing his fence (i.e., picking up trash). Sensing the worst, Ranger Rick preemptively banned him from ARG, but somehow we got sucked in anyhow, forming a new division of ARG in the process - the DWFCDTC* Division (*Dumba$$es Who Follow Cowper Down The Cossatot). Actually, come to think of it, I may have started it all when I carried a tiny little plastic bag around Dead Dog Beach offering to carry kayaker's lunch trash to the take out (one of many public services that ARG offers to the greater paddling community). The Cap'n made it worse by finding older trash lying around. Then Cowper/Tom Sawyer took it upon himself to fill up the ARG rowing rigs with whatever he could find between lunch and the take out (including a jagged, rusting, corroded, half of a piece of tin whistle, at which ARG drew the line ("Jagged" and "rubber" do not play well together)).
The run through the seemingly always bony Devil's Hollow Rapid was routine, although maybe I should mention my brief pin at the top of the rapid and slightly longer pin at the bottom (but I ran a perfect line though the middle 50 feet) (personally I blame it on the weight of the trash added to my raft (thank you Cowper/Tom Sawyer)).
About half of us ran the middle line at Devil's Hollow Falls, and about half ran the drop a few feet off the right bank. The Cap'n and the paddle boat had long since commenced their sprint to the take out, which I found odd because I had the keys to our shuttle rig with me in my raft and Walter (who was behind me) was taking the drivers back to the Ed Banks in his rig (oh well - we don't call him Cap'n Downstream for nuthin'). The Tom Sawyer Trash Recovery Expedition took Ranger Rick along a new route down the flatwater part of the 'Tot (the mile or so above the take out), which changed the Cossatot River to Cossatot Creek to Cossatot Ditch to Cossatot Mud Flat to Cossatot Drag-Your-Raft-Thru-The-Underbrush-Back-To-The-Channel.
The trip back to LR was unremarkable, except for Buttload's unexplained inability to divide $60 by 3 (Me: "Gordon - why didn't you just put $60 worth of gas on your debit card and the $40 cash that Rick and I gave you in your pocket? Gordon: "Because I'm not that (expletive deleted) smart").
No information yet on the whereabouts of the rat snake (or Debo and the Stay Puft Marshmallow Men's next gig).
P.S. I didn't see it (and we all know that ARG trip reports adhere to the highest journalistic standards for accuracy), but Lazar reports that the Impossibly Named Ginger Root (who refers to her Significant Other other as the Impossible Lance Jones (good comeback, GR!)), reports that the bow of GR's kayak got bucked up by the wave at (Eye Opener?) and did a spectacular back flip. Because of the delay caused by Cowper's rat snake search they were way behind the main group when it happened. ARG regrets that the lack of eyewitness confirmation prevents that event from receiving greater coverage in this report.
