Belo No Mo'

I'll repeat what plenty of people have been saying for a while now: props to Tyler Bradt.
I doubt I need to repeat the details of his amazing accomplishment, so I'll just leave it at that and thank him for quieting all the skepticism about Pedro Oliva's 'record-breaking' descent of Salto Belo in Brazil.
All question and concern over whether Pedro's performance on Belo carries the world record can be lowered, but hopefully not forgotten. Both were incredible kayaking feats and neither should be brushed off as a 'stunt' or poor representation of kayaking to the wider world. At least neither kayaker spouted off about wanting to "see all you guys in Heaven," thank god. Though Pedro did follow Jaime Pierre's lawn dart approach for landing his big freefall, his motivations were far from the Heavenly realm.
Both are, I'm sure, proud of what they have done and want their actions to represent them and kayaking in a progressive light. If anything, their actions are inspiring to many and big steps in the movement of a new understanding of whitewater and confidence towards big drops.

We're just catching up to skiing and other 'xtreme' sports, right? Hopefully nobody will soon follow with an accidental descent of a new world record waterfall, like skiing's Fred Syverson did off a 107 meter cliff.
However delayed, after Bradt's day at Palouse took the wind from my blogging sails, I will try to clear up a few things about Oliva's day at Belo.
Among the questions of whether or not he stayed in his boat at the bottom, there might be a few other questions, like what did he think about the possible consequences or what about other waterfall experience he had.
Oh, you don't really care about that? Just want to know what happened at the bottom? All the excitement about this has passed?
Well, he stayed in his boat. That's all I could tell happened. He walked out a minute later, slightly shaken, but mostly on top of things and wanting me to go to the top to run the thing too.
Right, Pedro. Not to say that his line was uninspiring...

So, back to Cali, where spring is in full swing and the sun and snow are adding up to some nice days on the river.



Watch out for bro's in bunny suits.


When you do eventually make it to the river, boof and be happy.
Dave Fusilli and Jared Seiler demonstrate.



Jeremy Laucks enjoying his first days in California.


I took this picture of Jared running triple drop. It's bad cause I was scared and watching him and not the camera.


Dave Fusilli took this picture and was not scared.

Somewhere down there was the most absurdly violent piton I have ever experienced and the real reason I was scared. It looked a lot like this:

Jeremy Laucks Photo

Can I please just plug Jackson Kayak here? I think I would be in much worse shape were it not for the Uni-shock bulkhead system in my boat. Uni-shock bulkhead=fancy name for the ankle-saving rope, cleat, and foam system that sits in the front of each JK creek boat. So soft it hardly bruised my ego.

Next day or so, Fusilli checks out what we portage on the South Branch to get to the nice whitewater downstream.

It doesn't go, to all you prospective huckers.

The South Branch keeps it real below the Seven Falls, with plenty of good boofs and rapids all the way to the takeout.
Fusilli cools down on the first of many after the long portage.

Jared Seiler.

Jake on the second tier. The nice thing about white boats is that you can't see them in pictures.

Jared dropping over the third tier.

Jake stroking into the nasty looking bottom hole.

Jared making good time through the splashy lead-in.

And boofing against all odds.

Fusilli too.

Nicole Mansfield airing it out.

It's a lot less intimidating when you can pretty much walk down the drop. Not to say that this isn't high quality, there's just nothing better than summertime in Cali. That's all.

The unclean one. The rapid, not Jared.

Thanks LiquidLogic, for making photography fun again. Jake near the end of the run.

The South Branch is one of my favorite runs in the world and one of the most beautiful places I have been. Right up there in the top five in both lists.
Good enough to go back again at lower water and enjoy another day in the sun.

Darin making the most of our last trip on the SB with a nice run of "99 Problems".

Shon Bollock follows in good form.

Ryan Knight too!

Devin Knight stoked on another sunny day paddling in California. It doesn't get much better.

Brazil: At The End Of The Day

Well let's just get right down to it. I've been trying to avoid this subject as much possible. I've been asked, prodded, interrogated, about what really happened March 4th on the Rio Sacre behind Salto Belo. 

So what really happened, right? 

First, let me tactfully distract you with a few photos from the rest of the trip while I conjure up some grossly exaggerated story about that day. 

I know I usually just look at pictures anyway, so look at these. I won't even bother you by writing anything about them. 

Well here we are at Salto Belo and looks like I'll have to put off the report until next time. 

Turn Around

To recap:

We woke up late, enjoyed Carnaval, went to bed early, repeated, jumped off a tall waterfall, made friends, watched Rafa run Anaconda, drove, dropped Jesse and Rafa at the bus station, drove, continued driving, and eventually went kayaking.

 

To continue:

With our single CD continuing on repeat anytime the car was on, there are a few lines that are sticking with me, which is surprising, considering how often and how much important information slips through my fragile memory. 

Another piece of gold from our single mix CD: "More than a hustla, I'm the definition of it, master chef, Lord of the kitchen cupboard, more than a street legend, homey it's Hova." 

Hova: short for Jehovah, Jay-Z, or any other non-deity you can imagine rhyming these lines with the lyrical swagger that possibly only self-proclaiming saviors possess. 

So you're here to save the world? What do you say to something like that?

Maybe you don't subscribe to something holy like that mentioned above and find more in exploration and the cyclical nature of things, to be as vague as possible. 

I like what T.S. Eliot had to say: 

“We shall not cease from exploration/and the end of all our exploring/ will be to arrive where we started/and know the place for the first time.”

So there we were, driving across the plains of central Brazil, feeling a bit less like explorers of the wild than soy fanatics on tour when we stopped at a small towns prefetura to ask for directions. They turned us towards a few waterfalls and even provided locals to call to help us find our way. 

Soy lovers rejoice, but bring a local to lead you through the maze. This could have been the fourth time at this spot, but may as well have been the first as far as we could tell. 

Everyone deserves a gimme every once in a while, right?  

Ben, two steps from the driver's seat, measures the falls. 

I don't use 'perfect' to describe Ben's line down this falls casually. As good as it gets.

I don't use 'missed' lightly either. 

Sometimes sun, warm water, and a light breeze can make you do silly things. 

Ben, excited after the prefect line and to hear the cheers from downstream.

The impoverished, impishly cute children are just out of frame.

The beautiful Cachoeira Abobada. 

Finding the falls way too tall to paddle, but wanting to milk as much as possible after a short hike I tried swimming all the way out to it. About halfway there I heard yelling and looked at the beach to see the local guides frantically waving me back. 

Safe back on the beach after being warned of the 6 meter sucari, or anaconda, in the pool. 

Hm, I think we've been here before...