Walthenberg Rapid came into view as a stretch of swift, churning water marked by a series of diagonal waves and surging laterals that swept across the channel from river left. The current pressed hard toward a line of jagged rocks along the shore, making our line clear but demanding precision. Overhead, the sky had begun to shift, with thick clouds gathering along the canyon rim and a cool wind sweeping down the corridor. The temperature dropped noticeably as we pulled hard on the oars to stay center, the dory accelerating smoothly into the push of the main flow. The first wave struck the bow at an angle, sending a cold splash over the front and tipping us sideways just enough to get our attention. Quick adjustments on the oars kept us upright as the boat flexed beneath us, the wooden hull shifting and creaking softly with each surge. We rode over a few more steep rollers that pitched and lifted the bow sharply before settling us into deep troughs, where the water boiled and tugged at the stern. The darkening canyon walls rose steeply on both sides, narrowing the river and amplifying both the rush of water and the distant rumble of thunder rolling downriver. With a few strong strokes, we cleared the last of the diagonals and slid into the pool below, where the current eased and the chill in the air settled deeper on our skin. Walthenberg had been short, punchy, and technical, offering just enough challenge to keep our focus sharp and the dory on point as the storm made its slow approach.
Walthenberg Rapids
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