[TR] Stonycreek River, April 1993
Art Vaughn
I thought I would post the trip report, written in April of 1993:
911 RIVER RUN
We had a close call last week. The last weekend of March was
a wet one in Pennsylvania with warm weather melting off a heavy
snowpack. I took Friday off to do a real fun run on the Blacklick
with Phil Sapala and Barry Adams. Immediately after that run, Phil
and I did a hair-raising exploratory of its South Branch tributary
doing 90 feet/mile into the evening dusk on an unfamiliar river. We
aced it and felt a little giddy and triumphant at the take out.
On Saturday, Bob Weible, Jeff Simcox, Tom Taylor, Jim Maruna,
and I followed Parish Jones, "Emily", and "Herman", down the class 5
Dark Shade and managed to hold things together despite three swims.
Some hot-shots we were, running class 5 and doing rescues too.
Sunday's run of the Upper Stonycreek River from the Covered
Bridge to Kantner was the horror story. I pictured a fast class III
run that would get me home before dark because my truck light-switch
was shot. With Bob Weible, Jeff Simcox, Tom Taylor, Jim Maruna and
Gib McGill, I don't know what they thought we were in for, but my only
thought was the weather. With just a glimpse of warm sun as we set
the shuttle on this unknown flooded river, it was a no-brain go-for-it
decision for me. Simple fast moving flood water at the take out,
simple fast moving flood water at the put in, and simple minds at
work. The Holsopple gage was reading seven feet and heading towards
eight.
One half mile into the trip the river did four things all at
once. The river took a sharp bend to the right, the river got
radically narrow, the river picked up considerable gradient, and the
river got chocked full of boulders and strainers. This isn't just my
description, it's all in the AYH guidebook. Read it. We didn't. It
was a vision straight out of hell and my worst nightmares.
When we hit this maelstrom, Bob hollered for Gib to look
sharp. Gib wisely pulled out on river left. We paddled for our lives
through about a quarter mile of these exploding wall-to-wall waves and
strainers. We were totally out of control and looking for non-existent
eddies. When I first saw a river right eddy I was looking at Tom
working on his fourth roll attempt, Jim's empty boat heading
downstream, and a vista of exploding wall-to-wall waves, holes and
strainers ahead. I opted for the eddy. The eddy was behind a boulder
with the entrance current washing under a downstream log. I could see
the life-saving eddy just ten feet away, big and flat behind the
boulder, while I was bracing against the current pushing me under the
log.
Jeff, Bob and I all won the same fight for this eddy. Jeff
did a good scout downstream finding no conceivable way to continue
boating and no sign of Tom or Jim. Now what? Half our group was
missing and there was two feet of crusty snow on the ground for us to
bushwhack our way out up-river.
Bob walked out ahead to get his van to the next downstream
bridge while Jeff and I worked our three boats (Jeff pulling two of
them) out along the deer trails going upstream. The snow would
support 90% of your weight before you broke through. We figured that
Gib was safe on the river left railroad tracks, but it was a real
thrill to see Tom come lumbering up behind us on river right. He had
left his boat tied to a tree down-stream where he had done a strainer
fight, and he was hobbling on a bad leg he got from a fall in the
woods. The question now on all of our minds was Jim's health. Tom
was the last to see him washing downstream but still conscious.
It took an hour for us to make it back to the road. I stayed
behind at the covered bridge to walk down the river left tracks while
Tom and Jeff drove down to the Mostoller and Kantner bridges. I
picked up Gib's trail after about a half mile and followed it for
another half mile to be sure he was continuing downstream. I never
saw any sign of Jim.
When I got back up towards the road an hour later, I could see
Tom loading my boat. I picked up my pace, just sure that he had good
news. A knot formed in my stomach when he said we needed more
vehicles to look for Jim. Driving back to Kantner some locals, coming
the other way and flashing their headlights, stopped us to ask if we
had found the victim. They were heading to the covered bridge.
When we got back to Kantner, the Stoystown Volunteer Fire
Department had set up a command post at the intersection. Bob had
called 911. They took our names and inquired about how Jim was
dressed. They had a lookout posted on the bridge. Their radio was
saying that the Johnstown helicopter was grounded due to fog. They
were looking for a helicopter out of Maryland. They didn't want us
walking alongside the river because it would confuse the air search.
Bob was stabbing his finger at a xeroxed topographic map that Phil had
given us and was trying to make a point with the local rescue squad,
"I'm telling you we're right HERE!"
The Maryland helicopter had just lifted off the ground when
the word came over the radio to "CANCEL. THE VICTIM HAS BEEN FOUND."
We made the point that finding one victim (Gib) was just a matter of
convenience because we knew that he was walking, but finding the other
victim (Jim) was a matter of critical importance because he was
swimming. We needed to know who had been found. Ten minutes later
the word came that both Jim and Gib were out.
Jim had met Gib on the railroad tracks where they walked to a
cabin whose owner gave them a ride out to the road. The rescue squad
spotted them near Mostoller. The communications, area coverage and
potential helicopter support that the rescue squad provided were
invaluable.
During his one mile swim, Jim had been trapped underwater
twice fighting his way through strainers. At one point the current
ripped off his boots and he eventually walked out wearing his gloves
on his bare feet. Jim was as convinced as we were that this was his
last river trip. When the current eventually deposited him into an
eddy, he said that it took him nearly twenty minutes to recover and
become convinced that nobody else was coming downstream.
With all lives accounted for, the rescue squad went home and
Tom, Jeff and Bob went back in for Tom's boat. The locals who we met
on the road were in the woods along the river and they had found Jim's
boat and tied it off to a tree. We had no right to be this lucky.
We only made one mistake. Succumbing to complacency, we
launched onto an unfamiliar river in flood without really knowing the
nature of the river ahead. We didn't even treat this as a decision
making process, we just put on the river. After we were on the river,
we didn't have any further opportunity to make decisions. No amount
of skill, judgement or equipment would have made any difference then.
We had simply given ourselves over to this river and we would have to
live forever with the consequences.
Art Vaughn
Tom Polomchak
your story wuz like a flashback. i wuz relieved to hear everyone
made it out alive,i only wish we had been so fortunate. when we seen the
put~in and take~out we also thought it would be just a fast flush to the
take~out. by the time we realized it wuz also to late.
in anticipation for precipitation!
surfsupa...@gmail.com
riverman
Phan...@nospam.invalid
as a walk down memory lane. The original trip report was 22 years ago
lol! .... oh well..... I'm here just panning for gold. Seems a
valuable nugget amongst all the junk spam. :-)
