Crystal Rapid announced itself with a deep, growling roar that echoed powerfully through the narrow canyon as we approached. We pulled into the scout eddy on river right and climbed up the rocky bank to get a better look. From the overlook, the scene below was both mesmerizing and sobering. A steep tongue of water plunged into a chaotic landscape of surging waves, powerful laterals, and the infamous mid-river hole that churned dark and heavy at the heart of the rapid. The main flow heaved and boiled, sending bursts of spray high into the air and slamming through jagged rocks scattered across the channel. Standing there with the canyon walls towering around us and the sound of crashing water filling every space, the raw power of Crystal was unmistakable.
After studying the lines carefully and weighing our options, we made the call to line and portage around it instead of running through. The rapid’s intensity and the consequences of a missed move were too high on this day to risk the dory and the crew. We worked methodically to guide the boat along the shoreline, the sound of the rapid always just at our backs, a constant reminder of the challenge we had chosen to respect. As we pushed back into calmer water downstream, a quiet sense of relief and pride settled in. Sometimes the smartest run is the one you leave behind.