It's always hard to motivate on damp, cold mornings, and this was no exception. As would be the standard for us during our stay in BC we put on the water around ten in the morning.



After enjoying the wide open scenery the river constricted to the start of a new canyon, and rapids formed. With twice the water it was quickly turning into a big water river and a lot of fun. We boat scouted through a few lead in rapids before arriving at "The Bet" our first scout. 

The Bet is the largest runnable rapid of the Homathko, and was looking pretty mean. I'm not sure what the whole group was thinking, but Katie and I decided to portage it and started walking back up to our boats. At the top of the rapid we gasp in horror as a boat is out in the middle of the river and quickly gaining speed to disappear in The Bet.
Charlie and I sprinted up the rocks to get our kayaks and start portaging, but by the time we got done with the fifteen minute portage, the kayak was long gone. No images of The Bet because we were now in strictly business mode.
We regrouped below the bet and talked over what to do. The kayak had gone into The Bet and none had seen it emerge downstream. Jonas and I both had Spot satellite messengers. Our float plane landed in two days. We were not willing to let one person be out in the wilderness alone. We could send two people up to the Homathko/Mosely Creek valley, where we were sure it was wide enough for extraction. But they would either have to carry their boat over a mile, cross country, up to the valley, or abandon their kayak. Then they could use the Spot or wait until we called for a private helicopter pick up. None of us wanted to abandon our kayak, or carry it through such rugged terrain. 

Downstream progress seemed to be the best option. We'd continue down the river until the next wide spot where a person could come back down to river level. Same for the hiker, head downstream until the next wide spot. 

Back on the water a small amount of boogie led to the next gorge, which we bombed down until suddenly we were above a menacing horizon. Out beta had mentioned two rapids in gorges, one with a large hole which could be gone around on the left, and another that had a boof down the center that "went better than it looked". Which were we at? There were no real eddy hopping options, except for one that committed the bold to that side of the rapid. Rush made the bold move and caught the eddy, and gave it a good long look. The center certainly was not the place to go, so he probed down the left, a nice slide to boof move over the edge of a large hole. We all followed, and in the flatwater below the gorge walls dropped back and we got out on the left to await our teammate. 


We waited on the beach and gave the occasional shout for our hiker. It was cold so we started a campfire. After an hour we had the whole team again. An hour for a quarter mile. Hiking out was certainly not an option. Options were rehashed again, but we settled on the SPOT unit as the best bet to make sure we got out to the float plane on time.

We collectively took a deep breath and hit the button, a first for any of us. The river rushes by. Wind in the trees. Seemingly silent after all our talk. Not knowing how long we would have to wait, guessing possibly overnight since the remoteness of our location, we built up the fire and hunkered down. 

We'd eyed the beaches and cleared the largest one, hoping a small helicopter might be able to land. After two hours of joking and story telling, we heard the unmistakable drone of a motor. The sound of rotor wash soon followed. Sudden a massive helicopter flew over the ridge, slowed down and then passed by. We waited on the beach, surprised by the timely response and size of the bird.

A few minutes later the helicopter passed over again, sussing out the situation. Rotor wash came into ear shot again, and the helicopter came back into view and started hovering. It was two-hundred feet above us, but had so much rotor wash that mist was coming up off the river. It hovered for a minute, and then we saw a rescue worker descending. 


Once on the ground we quickly informed the rescue worker that there was no medical emergency and things relaxed. He said they were in the area doing training, got the call and were happy to respond. They'd be able to extract the team member but not their paddle or the boat, which is understandable. 


The helicopter flew off and silence returned. It was getting late in the afternoon and we knew the meat of the Homathko was downstream. We stashed the left over paddle high on the bank and embarked into the next canyon. We didn't know exactly where we were, but we did remember something about a boily rapid and the top of the next gorge was certainly that. Charlie hopped out, gave it a quick thumbs up and we all dropped in. Not recommended unless you like running class V blind, because you will below here.



Totally walled in. Except there is a creek coming in on river left. Rush makes the ferry over to a tiny eddy and scouts. He scouts for longer than makes us comfortable as we swirl around in an eddy in the middle of the river. Rush says it's too hard to explain and for us to follow him. He gets back in his kayak and makes an extraordinarily tough ferry out. He can't make it to the eddy we are in, but makes it far enough to go down the center and we follow.

From LVM: "One of the big issues with the Second Act comes in the form of a creek separating the box canyon in two. The scout all the way to the Death Hole typically takes 30 minutes each way and requires a swim across said creek."

We power through a key boof over a big hole, charge right and punch a another hole before getting to the run out. Whew, that must have been the boof down the center we'd heard about. Two known lines were behind us and we were out of beta. Out of beta with another large horizon line. True vertical walls on both sides. The left doesn't look good so Charlie charges down the right and I follow, punching a hole and then driving to the center, barely punching another hole and then it's a wave train, with one final hole. Can that be it? The river is suddenly mellow and the gorge opens up. 

Another gorge rises up, but it's just scenic class II. This must be the "inner peace" gorge. We float in grandeur and are soon out into the open again, running a few larger boulder gardens before the river braids out and we are certain of being in the paddle out. 

We'd heard of a four hour paddle out. There was still a lot of light. We put our heads down and moved downstream. Three or four miles past the Inner Peace Gorge we found the rogue kayak in an eddy. It was complete but we had no way to get it out, so we ransacked it for the most valuable items and stashed it on the left.

We paddled on and had the first of several bear sightings. First a black bear that split when it saw is. Then a grizzly that didn't care when it saw us. Then another grizzly. On an island. This was disconcerting because we were supposed to sleep on an island to avoid bears. Maybe we can just make it all the way down. Dusk sets in and we are still a long ways out. We went under a bridge an hour ago but know nothing about it. 

It's almost dark and we're not going to make Homathko Camp. We find an island and hope for the best. There are bear tracks all through our camp. There is plenty of driftwood. Thus we make a large fire and plan to keep it going all night as a deterrent. It drizzles all night and we wake to a foggy morning.



The river really flattens out and it's become a real slog. The scenery is good, but after another three hours of paddling we are ready to see the end. Coming into a long straightaway we catch the glimpse of buildings and raise our hands in celebration. 



   Halfway across the straight, a small plane buzzes in and gives us a fly over before landing off in the trees. Could this be our estranged team mate? At the dock we are greeted by the friendly owners of the Homathko Camp, our team mate and two pilots. They invite us up for coffee, which we are pleased to partake in after the cold morning.


Over the radio they had heard that weather was bad inland and that our flight would be an hour later than planned. We enjoyed a tour of the camp and exchanged stories.


   Charlie and I waited behind, talking with Chuck about the boats he was building. He is an amazing guy with incredible talent for fabricating and problem solving. Our float plane returned and it was time for Charlie and I to enjoy the river in reverse from a considerable elevation adjustment. 




On our way back out we had to beg gas off some locals. You can't fill up too often in these parts of BC and we dropped the ball. On the whole we loved the Homathko and all dream of returning, even if there is a lot of flatwater. Here is a little video thanks to Daniel Brasuell.

Charlie Center also put together a nice piece with out of the boat footage too.

We had flows of: 200cms (7,000cfs) 9/13 to 9/16 but the river jumped to 500cms (17,500cfs) on four days later and then to 2,750cms (97,000cfs) three days after that. The Online Gauge. So pay close attention to the weather forecast and pray it doesn't rain!

The best beta can be found on Steven Arn's LiquidLore site.