When I sit back and try to think of McGill, I don’t remember much. I remember the gorge, how I felt, and the destruction from the night before; but I don’t remember the rapids. It’s all a blur of emotions that come back as snap shots from inside the gorge. I guess when you burn the candle at both ends, it eventually burns out.
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| Chris McCoy Boofing the First Rapid Tooth Pick |
This spring in Chattanooga was one of the best I can remember from mid March thru April we had water. I had the opportunity to run all my favorite runs, explore several new runs, and then some. I was blessed to be able to paddle 16 days in March and 26 days in April. Not bad considering I don’t have a “Bomb Flow” trust fund, and work 40+ hours a week. But when you’re paddling 42 out of 61 days and still maintaining a job something has to give, for me this is sleep. Needless to say going into April 27 I was nearly exhausted, but when spring rolls around you never know which rain will be your last . So I intended to take advantage of every last drop.
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| Chris McCoy Typical McGill |
April 27 rolled across the South east like a freight train, literally. Tornadoes and Storms destroyed much of Alabama, Mississippi, Georgia, and Tennessee. So instead of sleeping, like I would normally do after paddling all day and working all night, I was glued to the TV and radio hoping everyone was ok. So when work rolled around, I was a little less than rested. After the anxiety of the storms faded the excitement of the rain hit and I rode that high to the morning, making plans with Chris McCoy for another new run.
After 36 straight hours of paddling, work, and worry; I met Chris at the Burger King in Soddy Daisy at 0630 am. Chris thought I looked exhausted, but that wasn’t anything a Red Bull and coffee couldn’t shake off. So after a quick breakfast we headed for McGill. At the put in the land owner came out and greeted us. She told us of the destruction the storms had caused and asked us to be careful because the rescue squads already had their hands full. We had heard if the water was low the paddle in was very abusive, our paddle in was anything but. We had a very nice flow of continuous class III, with the occasional strainers to dodge. As the gradient picked up we continued with our usual lead until you’re tired method. This was where I bonked, McGill was awesome read and run whitewater, but the lack of sleep, continuous nature of the rapids, and just general fatigue caught me. I told Chris he was going to have to take over, because all I could do was follow. I was mentally and physically drained. Chris being the phenomenal paddler he is gladly accepted the challenge, and styled the lines as I blundered behind.
I don’t know if it was because I was just following Chris or because I was almost delirious with exhaustion, but the beauty of the gorge is all I remember. The rapids were hard and fun, but I approached most of them with a very lackadaisical attitude. Instead of focusing on the rapids at hand I found myself more focused on the details of the gorge. The sun burned off the fog and shown in rays through the canopy. The reflection of the dew on the leaves and blooming flowers glittered like metal flake. The walls of the gorge shined like freshly polished jewels and waterfalls cascaded over joining us in our journey down the creek. I felt like I was in a movie or a magical cartoon world, not a class V gorge 30 minutes from downtown Chattanooga. In my mind, I remember this more as a ride at Disney World; rather than a class V hair run.
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| Chris McCoy Running Cumnock Falls |
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| Chris McCoy at McGill Falls |
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