What's your worst, true, fishing trip experiance?

Mine is we were fishing point defiance for summer kings. We launched at wollotchet to aviod the crowd and the fee, and made the run down to the point. After landing 4 kings between 10 and 17 pounds between the three of us, the wind started to get nasty. We started to make the run back to the launch. Just before we rounded the point we ran into some large waves created by a combination of the wind, boat traffic, and the current. After we went through the area about three minutes later we noticed the boat ( a 16 foot fiberglass game fisher) was taking on water and fast. We headed for the gig harbor side of the narrows. After getting there alive we moved all the gear to the back because the three foot crack was in the front. To make the boat run faster two of us walked the three miles back to the launch in 85 degree weather and the other ran the boat bailing out water the whole time back to the launch. When we got there the tide was way out and the concrete launch was 40 feet from the water. After waiting for an hour we decided to try it. The truck dug in to the soft sand some what but was able to pull it back onto the launch.

So what's yours?

Im always hoping to get one of my buddies into the whole steelhead addiction thing. My worst trip ever was when I took a buddy of mine (for his first time) to the Cowlitz last summer. We got luck enough to find a spot on the bank where it was just us. The water was crystal clear and I could see hundreds of steelies milling around on the edge of the current. Needless to say, we fished all day and never touched a fish. The only thing I did that day was tie new leaders. The words "need a new one" will be forever echoing in my mind as the four worst words in the world. Went back the next day all by myself and caught up for lost time..

Heading down after work on a saturday about 10pm to go do some springer fishing we lost a wheel doing about 70 on the I-5 on the left side of the boat trailer. Walked up and down the fwy to try to find the wheel but came up empty. Got a room for the night and tried again in the morning. Back tracked the route and found the wheel about 1.5 miles above where we left the boat. Stop by the local napa to get some bearings,seals ect. Said ther was nothing they could do? Ran across a trailer place that had the stuff in stock. Bought all needed parts and returned to the boat. apx 1.5 feet away from the white line I jack up the boat and find the leaf springs falling off. ok back to trailer place for u-bolts, pads, ect. Get it all back together with just enough time to fish for the afternoon. Hit the first spot and it was dead. decided we would pick up and move. As were heading up river the main motor starts to make some funny noise and then quits. After taking a closer look at this NEW power head that only had one hour on it over breaking in period found that the thing had froze. I'm pretty well po'ed at this point. Thank god we were close to the launch. I'll just run in on the kicker motor. First pull it starts! Then it dies? Go to pull it again and the rope breaks of in my hand. atleast it had a wrap around section on the top that you can use. We did make it back to the launch and straight to the bar. It didn't hurt as bad a few shoots later

Yep, desentigrated a wheel bearing too! No fun, luckily close in town, went to Boater's World, found all the hubs in stock, but damn if I had no idea which one it was. So, run back out to the boat, wrangle the fragged hub off, see that it is a tapered shaft, take whats left of the bearing with me to compare back to Boater's World. Got the hub, and went back out and fixed the trailer and took it home. Decided then and there to change the other hub out to, new Bearing Buddies and all. Turned out I probably caused it to happen having packed the bearing two weeks prior with regular disk brake wheel grease. I didn't know salt water turns it to liquid! Now I know, use the blue stuff. Caught no fish either.

Well you wanna here a bad one....grab some coffee and sit down and listen to this debacle.

It was late March in the winter of 1992, my buddy (at the time) had just got a new driftboat. We decided to go up to forks and do some steelhead fishin. Against better judgement we decide to fish the uuper sol duc from the hatchery all the way down to Whitcomb-dimmel (pretty long float). We had never been on the hatchery run but had fished a couple of the lower runs by boat. My buddy (at the time) figured he could handle it because he had rowed the Bogie and the lower Hoh a few times.

The water was really low and clear, I mean really low ( 2 boards at maxfield), and it was colder than a well diggers arce. We get to the launch and start putting or gear on and I realize I had forgotten my waders, not a real big deal other than i was wearing just sweats and sandals. So now Im a little bummed, I borrow my other friends shoes, which were huge. They were some sort of hightop basketball shoe, size 13!!! I put em on and now I look like a cross between Billy white shoes Johnson and Bozo the clown, but hey im fishing so its all good.

We start our float and it is so cold that every cast you have to break the ice out of your rod guides to even reel in. So we float along and come to the first of the three thousand rock gardens in the Sol duc. And guess what my buddy (at the time) mistakenly picks the wrong path, imagine that. So we get stuck high and dry. Now we have to push the boat back up stream about 30 yds so we can slide it over to make the correct shoot. Yep, thats right standing in waist deep water in white tennis shoes pushing a driftboat in freezing arce cold weather. It gets worse!!!!

We get freed from the first catastrophe and continue our journey, all this had happened by about 8 am already. We come down to the next shoot and buddy drops anchor at the top of it and the anchor doesnt hold so we slid into some rocks and get stuck. Guess what the anchor is stuck now too and we cant get it up. So were just sitting in the ragging current fluttering like a kite in the wind. My buddy (at the time) decides hes gonna have to get out to free the anchor, the water was about 5 feet deep. On his way out of the boat, I have no idea how he managed to make it happen but he pops one of the oars out of the lock and it goes flying in the drink. Down river she starts to go, being quick whitted like I am I immediatly cast my drift set up straight down stream and manage to snag the oar by the wrapping. Only one problem the oar turns sideways in the current, ever tried to fight a oar in raging current? It was beating the hell out of my rod on the gunell of the boat till it finally snapped the line, and down the river the oar went!!! Not so bad right? Well guess what... no spare oar!!!!!!! No we have 8 miles of river to float with one oar.

Anyway the oar is gone and we are still stuck, my buddy is the water doing his best impression of a diving mallard in raging water trying to free the anchor. He amazingly enough frees it and just has enough time to pull him self up on the back of the boat, feet still swinging in the air, we take off down river with me standing in the middle of the boat rowing side to side like Jerimiah Johnson. We make it through another near death experience!!! All this time we arent even fishing just trying to survive.

We continue down river and low and behold what is bobbing around in a back eddy...our beloved other oar so we snatch it up and share a couple high fives (this is the highlight of the day by the way). We are so cold and wet and all our shorts are full of the finest fear you can imagine that we decide to just try and go down river without dieing and not even fish anymore.

We basically only have one more small incident at another split were we went the wrong way and it involved more wading and pushing. We finally get down to the takeout at about 2pm, cold pissed, but very happy to be alive.

That is still a very vivid memory in my mind and I replay it everytime I float that stretch of river now. I have floated this chunk of river probally 50 times ( in my own driftboat!) without incident since that date. I would have to say it is by far my worst fishing experience ever, and I dont think I could ever top it.

What do you think????

And yes we are still buddies, and I have to say from that day on he turned in a hell of an oarsmen. There isnt much that we cant float in our boats now!!!

Fishaday, I'm sorry but I laughed so hard that I cried. I'm happy that you guys made it out safely and have used that day as an educational experience.

Fishaday;
Been There. Didn't do that but close enough.

First time down that run was the first time I had ever seen anything even close to the hell that stretch can be. Our timing was way off, and by the time we hit "The Wall" on which we became impaled, it was getting dark. (Don't go left!) I think the only thing more freightening than going through some of those rapids is going through in the dark! "Where is that Confounded Bridge!?!" was heard more than once that day!

Be smart and if you decide to go down this piece of River hire a guide!

Gutz, the wall is where we had to push the boat back up river to get all the way to the right to go down through the correct shoot. You are correct that river is hard to read your first time through , I wouldnt recommend it to a newbie thats for sure...lol. Once you float it a couple times, its just like evry other float, it all becomes second nature.

Matter of fact I'll be up there all this weekend trying to battle the sol duc monster again...lol.

Here goes mine...

A friend and I went on a mid- August trip from the Tri-cities to fish Slough Creek at Yellowstone National Park. We drive all night, arrive at the campground around 6:00 am. Put up the tent, stowed the gear inside and started towards the trailhead. We hiked around 6 miles up to the second meadow and started fishing. It was a great day, temp around 80, Lots of hoppers hopping, fish biting, very few other poeple around. We fished most of the day stopping only to eat a quick lunch. About 3:00 I remember releasing a fish and looking up towards the mountains seeing a very big, very black, thunderhead forming. I also noticed it had gotten colder and darker as if it dusk was a few hours early. I remeber thinking to myself, a few more fish, then we better get out of here.... famous last words, "a few more fish...." Within 5 minutes the wind kicked up to nearly 50mph. The thunderhead, and the lightning it carried with it hit us like a truck. We both realized immediately we were in big trouble! There was no shelter, and we were the tallest thing for at least a couple of miles in any direction. The first of many lightning bolts hit the meadow several hundred yards away. Staring down a huge thunderstorm is a humbling experience. The next bolt hit close enough that the sound wave knocked us back a step... The flash was blinding. we started running towards the trail leading back to the campground. It would take us into the shelter of the trees. We were running hunched over, graphite rods (a fine conductor of electricity) low to the ground, juking and weaving for some unknown reason. (maybe thinging we could dodge the lightning..) We were running through a waist high grassy area when we nearly ran into a bull moose that had been lying down. We froze. He stood staring at us from 15 feet away! A loud lightening crash shattered the moment, he went one way we went the other. Finally as we hit the trail, the rain came. Heavy rain. I was wearing shorts and a tank top. The temperature had dropped at least 40 degrees, and the wind was still howling. We continued through the forest down the path for what seemed like an eternity. The rain changed to a stinging hail. 2 hours later we arrived at the campsite, but our tent was GONE! We were standing there, hypothermic, soaked, scared, and tired as the ranger drove up. He told us that the wind had topped 60mph at the campground, and our tent was blown 100 yards, landing into the river were it washed down another 100 yards or so. He pulled the drenched pile out of his truck and dropped it on the picnic table. All of our clothes, sleeping bags, pillows, and extra gear was inside the tent when it went into the river. The tent was ruined. The ranger told us he was sorry, and he did all he could to catch the tent. My friend and I just looked at each other and started laughing. We couldn't stop! The ranger must have thought we were insane. We told him about the rest of the day leading up to that moment and that we were just glad to be alive. We picked up the mess, threw it in the truck, and drove home. We call it our "yellowstone day trip!" 12 hour drive there - 10 hours fishing - 12 hours back home! You should have seen the look on my wifes face when we got home the NEXT morning...

me and the wife were in yellowstone and went to hike into a lake that had grayling in it. someone told us it was a 3 mile round trip. we were in sweats over out shorts cause the weather had been good. had wool hats and gloves on but no coats. started in and it started snowing hard and wet. finally get to the lake and just turned around cause we werent dressed for it. seemed like 3 miles one way im sure. on the way out we met all these hikers dressed for the weather giving us funny looks. we sure werent prepared for 7000 ft and september 1 weather changes

This happened in on 7-13-01. Friday the 13th. Went out to Gissberg ponds up north of Everett to catch channel cats. I caught a very nice catfish, about 19 inches or so This one would have been 6-7 pound easy. I tied him on a stringer and tied it to a root next to a bush, and rebaited the pole with chicken livers and propped it on a branch over where the stringer was tied. It was rather late when I got out, so I only planned on being out for only an hour or so. It got dark, so I started packing my stuff up to leave. I went to untie Mr. Catfish, when another big fish hit the pole. These catfish aren't subtle. They hit like a freight train. Anyway, the pole got a bite just as I was untying the last knot in the stringer. The pole hit me on the back, and did an end over end right into the water. I only had enough time to wade in and make one grab, but at that moment the fish pulled again and the pole was gone. I ran back to my car to get my flashlight out of the trunk to see if I could see the pole in the water, and tossed my sandles in the car because they were soaking wet from wading in after the pole. Shining the almost dead flashlight around in the water produced no luck, so I tried for an hour or so to snag it with another pole I had with me, also no luck. When the guy showed up to lock the gates, I headed back to my car, only to find that my keys weren't in my pocket! I found out later that I had dropped them in my mad dash back to the lake to save my gear. Disheartened, I gathered up the remaining gear, and went to collect the fish, only to find that it had swam away! I ended up walking barefoot to the Chevron station about half a mile away with all of my remaining gear, where the attendant would not let me in because I 'smelled like the lake' and waiting 3 hours for a ride home from my dad, who had to drive up from Federal Way at 1 AM. I lost two great fish and a $70 rig because everything right happened at the wrong time. If the fish had bitten one second sooner, I would have been right there in a position to grab the pole. If the fish had hit one second later, I would have had the pole in my hand. What a Friday the 13th...

Here's another Yellowstone story - myself and a buddy made the long haul to Yellowstone specifically to fish for post-spawn cutthroats in a tributary of Yellowstone Lake. 12 hour drive, few hour nap in the car, and then it was off down the trail for a five mile hike into the creek. Beautiful sunny day, we enjoyed watching the occasional buffalo grazing along the trail. For the last mile or so to the creek, we followed a large buffalo that was ahead of us on the trail. As we neared the creek, we approched the buffalo that had apparrently stopped to graze. As we came within a hundred yards or so of the "buffalo", it stood up on it's hind legs and began sniffing the air !!! Needless to say, neither of us wanted to share the creek with this large grizzly, so we ended up hiking back to the car without ever wetting a line.

i've had AT LEAST my fair of mishaps while tryin to get some fishin done, the list is long & ugly, ran my new 18fiberglass fish & ski into the concrete launch ramp at a pretty good clip (forgot to put the plug in & didn't figure out why I couldn't get to top speed until I was hundreds of yards from the launch--> started late 3:30 pm or so out of hoodsport in december, got caught in rain pissing down sideways in complete darkness, inching back @ crawl trying to keep the house lites on the bank visible & not run into nets when a 25' deep bowed wooden boat without any lights ROARED past with 3 native americans in field jackets, if i had my pole in my hand i could have whipped 'em =pure instant shock terror,
--> big motor won't start 12 miles out past # 8 bouy out of westport, compass only, radio that works? are u kidding me, both cells phones on low batts, kicker runs when it wants to, no fleet in site, outgoing tide, limped in (LONG STORY), ---> sound flat as a pancake, i'm running all out @ 43+ mph, just past boston harbor towards & almost right @ johson point, when the sound opens up UNDER me, no warning, we're all ass over tea kettle, i can type this because i had the motor cut off clipped to my belt --> the list goes on but, the worst fishin trip i ever had was when i 4 or 5 yrs old, in OH, got my first cain pole (w/7 brothers & 2 sisters & no alot money to go around, your first cain pole was precious, now your big & can fish) & my older brother & I walked several miles to a farm pond, rolled over logs, put a white grub on, threw it & waited, set it down to take a pee, & off it went, i couldn't get to it, it was gone, i could see a big purple bluegill, body sideways to the bank, just yarding it out, my older brother kept fishin, I had to watch my cain pole float in the middle of the pond for hours, had to walk all the way home, (the longest walk of my life & i'm a grunt) in sweltering july heat, i'll never forget the loneliness & despair, & just how miserable tired i was ever f___n step of the way home......

I used to have a fourteen-foot runabout that I would take out for salmon fishin.

A buddy and me got up at oh-dark-thirty and drove to 7-11 to fill all the gas tanks and also to fuel ourselves. Went down to coronet bay and launched the boat, had just gone under deception pass bridge and I was gettin stuff a lil more organized in the boat when I moved the ice chest and four or five lil geysers shot up from the floor (a previous owner had, at one time, some sorta winch type thing fer liftin crab/shrimp pots attached to the floor) The boat had been handlin rather sluggishly and listin a lil bit and I had been wonderin why in the back of my mind. Well the geysers provided the answer. We took the plug out and ran back to the boat launch. Unbelievable how much water drained out of the boat once it was back on the trailer. Turns out that while we were in 7-11 someone had hit the boat with their car and put a huge hole in the side, just below the waterline.

That's the worst one, here is another one that I posted on here a couple of years back:

Drove out to the OP to do some fishin w/a couple a buddies. We were bank fishin on the Sol Duc and Darrin headed downstream, Scott upstream and I crossed the bridge to try my luck on the other side. As I was makin my way down to the river my lure box w/all my spinners, spoons, corkies yarn and hooks fell outta my chest pocket on my waders and into the river. Whoops, forgot to mention that the temp was in the thirties. Tried in vain to reach the box. Didn't want to take away from mah buddies fishin time (Darrin had caught one nice springer the day before) so I peeled off the waders, stripped down to my skivvies and went for a swim. Darrin was fishin directly across the river and observed the whole thing. A few hours later I ran into Scott and told him what had happened, I also told him to tell Darrin that I was just tryin to get a fresh, fish-like perspective on lure selection for that particular time and place. I later explained to Darrin what had happened but, I think, to this day he still thinks I'm nuts.

Sincerely,
Roger

Three years ago on Dec. 21[shortest day of the year!!] I went out to fish Salmon Bank and Eagle Point with the guy [ my boss] that I saltwater fish with all the time. Clear day, cold with light winds. Fishing was really slow and we turned to run home and just as we were running through Cattle Pass the boat clunked but keep running. After we cleared the pass we stopped and the main motor died and wouldn't turn over, as if the motor was froze up[turned out to be the out drive]. So started up the kicker and continued toward Washington Park at about 6 knots. Ran the first 2 gallons of fuel out, had no 2 cycle oil and no gas except in the main tank, so what to do. We did have a quart of 30 weight so into the kicker tank goes some oil, used the gas line for the kicker with the priming bulb to pump 2 gallons of gas from the main tank and off we go[smoking !!]. We get to Washington Park past dusk and just as we are about 3 feet from the dock the motor dies[tank is dry as a bone] and of course the tide is moving us away from the dock, so my buddy leaps quick as a cat with a line for the dock. He didn't land like a cat though, feet hit the dock,down on his back for about 5 feet but held on to the rope. Took 5 hours to make the trip going the inside route- sure see alot more stuff.

Oh wow which nightmare should I write about?


This story is long but well worth the time you will take to read it.


Well last fall on our annual trip to the coast for fall salmon we stayed in Forks for a week.
If you remember we had the lowest river levels of all time last fall so Salmon fishing was basically a tidewater affair. There is nothing worse than fishing for salmon in tidewater with dozens of sealions chasing them everywhere even up onto the bank. So if it's not bad enough you don't catch but a couple fish trust me it gets worse! I never knew how much out of towners are disliked there. We could'nt even walk down the road without car loads of "FORKS TOUGHGUYS" trying to start a fight with us, Oh stay away from the local bar on a friday or Saturday night if you can't defend yourself from all the tough drunks. After a couple near brawls I guess it was time to come home.
We loaded the boat on the truck and noticed one of the trailer tires was flat. With no spare are only hope was fix a flat. After a can of that we are on our way back to Tacoma. About twenty miles down the road we here a boom and the same tire went flat again. Stuck on the side of 101 with no more fix a flat we unhook the trailer and I wait with the boat while may buddy drives back to Forks to get some more Fix a flat and a tire patch kit. About 45 min later here gets back we go through the same routine. O.K. we are on the road again.
Wrong,another 15 miles down the road flat again. Needless to say we only made to the ONP turn off to the Queets valley and planned to stay the night there so we could let the glue on the tire patch harden over night. Good idea right......Well the next morning every thing looked good we made all the way out of that dirt road and the tire plug never popped out. Right on we on pavement with 10 empty cans of fix a flat and no full ones left cross your fingers... Well we made it about halfway between Queets and Quinalt and boom blows out again F$&k what are we gonna do? Unhook the boat take all the poles, and the oars put them in the Cherokee were going to Aberdeen to buy a spare. We get to Aberdeen oh guess what it is, Sunday! NO TIRE SHOPS OPEN ON A SUNDAY the only thing open was a tire shop at sears but they only sell tires no rims yep we bought a tire and thought we could put it on the rim we have
We finally make it back to the boat, oh guess what we are missing the bike, ice chest, and the net damn theives don't let us see you with our bike!!!
We start removing the old tire from the rim by cutting it with our fillet knive, after getting that off the hard work begins trying to get a tire on a rim might be the most difficult thing i have ever tried to do, but we did it but how do we get the tire to take air since it not beeded to the rim???? Sh#& we are screwed when we finally gave up A truck pulls over to offer some help. He turned out to be a life saver since he knew some handy man in amanda park who had a machine that could get the tire beeded onto the rim after what seemed a week long ordeal we finally got the new tire on the rim and the rim on the trailor. Yeah we are on our way thank god for the Quinalt Indian that helped us but slipped and said his son had "NEW" bike that he found on the side of the road. He said his son was doing some wood cutting back up the highway so we decided to go and check out where he was cutting and see if he had our bike and other stuff that was stole out of the boat. We searched but no luck lets make a U-turn and head home here is a little piece of advice stay on the pavement, we were in a drought so my buddy thougth it would be OK to swing in the ditch to make the U-turn.......Wrong. The right side of the jeep ended up buried halfway up the door in mud. Thanks to the guys who pulled us out. Imagine seeing all this unfold on highway 101. I will never say "It sucks to be them" ever again. Because on that trip me hand my (mentally challenged) fishing partner were those guys you drive by and say that to.
But when it comes down to it I will be the first to say it's all worth it... IT sure is amazing the effect a steelhead/salmon can have on you.
Crazy as it sounds can't wait to do it again

Im ready for the annual weeklong steelhead trip Mar 22. I got the time off so Steve if you read this before the next time I talk to you.
Send a message to the metalheads...IT'S ON!

My worst day wasn't as bad as the others but it was full of adventure none the less...We (me and Wheedog) started our morning with a warning from another guy at the ramp that with the full moon we were going to see a lot of water moving that day. After about 45 min of trying to get the motor to his 19 footer started, we were off. We were launching at deception pass, and for a first timer there that was scary enough with all the boiling water under the bridge. By the time we got to the straight between Lopez and San Juan we found ourselves in waves of moving water about 4-6 feet high. The boat would get on the backside of one of these waves and would almost kill the engine. Once we got over it we would zip down the front side like a water slide. There was no path out of it. We saw a sailboat up against the coast of San Juan with it's front end dashing below the water in these waves.
After getting though this we found our trolling water. We got nothing but a couple dog fish until I was nearly knocked on my a$$ when I was reeling in a dog fish and a 100 lb + halibut decided to come up and take a look at what we had. The sight of a sandy colored fish that was at least 4 feet wide was more than I was expecting. It came up three times and we got a great look at it.
On our way back to the ramp we noticed alot of boats in a long line. We were wondering what they were doing until about 50 yds in front of us 4 orcas surfaced in front of us. We stopped the engines and steered away from a pond of maybe 10 whales. The whale watchers were not too happy with us I'm sure.
We soon realized why they call it "Deception' pass. We were on "E" and a prayer. We knew we had only minutes left of fuel. After trying a few inlets, we finally found the right one.
Like I said, nothing tragic, but we spent mos the day either on edge or recovering from our recent adventure.

Most of my memorable stunts somehow involve steelheading.

#1 First day of planned 4/5 day trip. 5:00 am highway 12 near McCleary. Rolled truck on an ice patch under standing rainwater. Truck rolled clean over and landed back on the tires, with mostly sheet metal damage and 1 badly destroyed canopy. Also wrecked some of my favorite fishin' gear. Truck off shoulder in ditch. Struggled out, engine still running, can't find driftboat/trailer. Look about 50 yards down the road and there it is; only tongue is bent like a hairpin. Called buddy to come pull truck out. Had to load my trailer on top of his and then winch boat on top. Brought trailer to a shop in Hoquiom and had a new tongue welded on. Had to go to Swansons to buy a rod since all mine were toast. Headed for the river. I hooked the first one and had a fish in the boat by 11:00 am! Got 4 the next day! Ha, Ha!


Other #1: Water was high so went to fish an up-river stretch that is not normally even floatable. We were over confident; had two passengers, video cam, boat full of beer and gear. "Experienced" partner said we'd be OK! Negotiated first several drops and chutes fine.

Came to a spot where (like in the movies) all we could hear was a roar of the rapids, but could not see around the corner. Had to beach the boat to check it out from the bank. Current was too fast, and as I hopped out and grabbed the gunnel I was promptly pulled off my feet and face down behind the swiftly moving boat. Finally got it beached and got a look at the rapids. Ouch, was all I could say!

The rapids consisted of a very narrow gap between two boulders. Whole river constricted to maybe 8 feet across, with about a 5' vertical drop. The kicker was that they had logged the right bank, and a huge spruce was conveniently felled across the rapids. Logging crew had crossed over the log to anchor their rigging cables on the other side. The log was resting about 4' above the water, RIGHT AT the beginning of the boulder drop. Limb stobs stuck out all over, nearly reaching the water level. We all agreed NO WAY was it floatable.

In order to rope the boat down we had to cross the river as the side we were on was a sheer cliff at the rapid. And we didn't have much room. Dragged the boat as far up as we could go. We all got in, and I rowed like hell to make the other side in the swift current. As we neared the small rock/log outcrop we needed to reach, I was about to hop out the back end to control the boat and beach it. The guy on the right saw that we were very near the chute and panicked. He tried to hop out too, and for a second he hung there one foot on a log and one foot still in the boat before clearing the side. That was enough to pull the back end out in to the current, and I knew right away that the boat, and whoever was still in it, would be going under the log and down the chute.

Quick thinking by the other partner saved us, as he leaped out, landing in the water, and scrambled to safety on the rocks above. I grabbed the oars, made one stoke to straighten the boat out, tucked them in, and hung on for the plunge.

I was at eye level with the log, so my first thought was to duck. I hit the floor. As the boat went over, one limb stob hit me in the head, giving me about a 3" gash and huge welt. Another limb ripped most of the skin off my right hand (Yes, I held on to both oars). Worst part was a limb caught the front seat of the boat and ripped it off the threads. It came crashing back down on top of me and a couple fishing rods. Front of the boat plowed into the wall, where the impact sheared off the welded eye for the trailer winch. Also took on probably 50 gallons of water.

I found some slower water and pulled over. When my adrenalin settled I started bailing. Took my buddies about 20 minutes to cliff climb (including through a waterfall) down to the boat.

Exciting, yes; fun, no! Needless to say I haven't been floting that stretch anytime since!