Escape from Darkness: A Tutorial

–by John Olson –
AR members since 1989, Colorado

An undercut is one of the most dangerous features on the river. It is formed when the river erodes a rock wall below the surface. Undercuts are typified by the lack of a pillow because the wall has been eroded below the river level creating a pocket or hollow causing a low pressure zone which sucks down the pillow. This hollow structure below water level set ups a strong flow of current that not only pulls down a pillow of water, but also can swallow floating things on the surface and send them to the bottom of the river and hold them there; they can be trapped with an unbelievable force. Things that normally float can be held on the bottom for days. Examples of such items include mundane floating things like trees or beach balls or things of more interest like river runners wearing more than 25 pounds of flotation! You can read about undercuts in any text that describes river features, but I want to explain how to save yourself if you become stuck in the dark at the bottom of a deep undercut. My river mentor described the self–rescue technique to me and a friend; little did we know how useful it would be. On a trip down Northgate Canyon on the North Platte River I witnessed the successful implementation of this self–rescue technique by my friend, and I'd like to share it with you.

This infamous undercut is found in the middle of the most significant rapid on the North Platte, known as Narrow Falls. The flow of the river goes into a cliff wall on the left about halfway down the rapid. The force of the river goes straight into the cliff wall, but no pillow is found here showing the presence of the undercut. My friend had trouble in the top of the rapid and capsized just above the undercut. He saw the cliff while missing his last roll attempt and purposefully took a huge breath of air anticipating a pin. Moments later, his boat lodged against the wall and he quickly exited. He was pulled down into darkness, and came to rest sitting on the bottom of the river, his back against the wall with the full force of the river holding him in place.

If this should happen to you, imagine with me what you have to do in the cold and dark while you are holding your breath being forced to the bottom of the river by the current. First, don't panic. This will only waste air and prevent you from executing your self-rescue. You must stand, turn and face the rock wall and push yourself off the wall with your arms like you are doing a pushup. Keeping your arms straight to resist the force of the current, you must work your way along the wall. If you don't know which direction to go, trust your instinct. Hopefully, you will only have to do this for a short distance before you feel the wall fall away from you. Then jump into the main river for the surface. My friend executed this self-rescue and popped up about 50 feet downstream from the cliff face in the middle of the river. He was under for less than 30 seconds, but it seemed like hours. To add to the drama, after he swam to the shore it started to snow! But what a happy snow it was for us all.

River Voyage
John M. Kauffmann, Former Board member and supporter since 1984

They came to valley on a morning, hand in hand; spring and grace in their step and expectation in their eyes that watched the river's way.

At a lodge they sought to ask the river's course and the requirements for journeying, of what to beware and for what to hope. He of the lodge sat and talked with them a while, assaying hand and shoulder, eye and countenance. And he bade them welcome.

"The river is long," he said. He noted the clean lines of their canoe. He examined the well-stowed wannigans, and tested the seasoning of the paddles.

"And a full flood," he added.

"No one knows its course and channel exactly, for these change, and each canoe must find its way."

"But like all rivers its youth is bright and lilting. You will laugh with it, race its riffles, and wrestle its rapids. The prizes will be a trout's leap and a deer's gaze; and, too, a keener eye and stronger arms, and a way of working and laughing together."

"But the river may darken as it gathers strength and tests yours. Then there must be faith in the bow and judgment in the stern, for the rocks will be cruel; the current, powerful. Canyons will shut out the sun, and the world will roar."

"There will be stretches that are wide and slack, coppered with heat. In calms the insects will swarm from the marshes. Then winds will lash the waves and drive cold rains, yet the dip and stroke must go on and on, patiently."

"But you will know many miles that sparkle and have melody. A sparrow's call will wake you. You will have a wren for the day and a thrush at evening, and in the night the whippoorwill and loon to make you ponder."

"You will find places by the stream where children can play in cool groves and flowered meadows, on beaches of gold and beside small brooks that whisper. Sunlight after rain will grant tall growth and deep roots in the valley. The firelight of your camps will be warm for remembering; the starlight, bright for wondering "

"You will learn, on the voyage; the crafts of survival and repair; the magic of renewal. And when the river flows deep and broad; when the trees along the banks are stately and a sea gleams beyond, young people may ask about the river and what is required. ‘Hands to act," you will tell them, ‘eyes to appraise and to appreciate, minds to understand, hearts to fulfill.'"

His voice ceased; his glance ranged down the stream. The river‘s ripples caught the early light. It shone, too, in their eyes, which followed - a sign and time for blessing and farewell.

The couple rose, lightly, unlacing hands. Gently they launched their slender craft, stepped in and floated free. With sure strokes together, they glided down the river in the morning.