A long time ago, after the dinosaurs but before any of us were born, legends like the Tallulah, Cheoah, Gauley, and Ocoee ran free through the southeastern section of what we now call the USA. The men before us looked at those rivers and saw only power, using their tools to tame them into submissive trickles and docile lakes that run deep through gorges that whisper of the roars that used to fill their walls. But a few people listen to those whispers and amplify them, and these dams, once in a while, let up. If you’ve never seen something like a river coming back to life, that’s a shame, because it’s beautiful.
Some weekends, the stars (aka the dam releases) align, and running the rapids becomes possible again. A community of river people converges on the put-ins with their paddles, PFD’s, canoes, rafts, kayaks and more. People came from all of the surrounding states to run the Cheoah and Tallulah in one weekend: South Carolina, Georgia, Virginia, Tennessee, driving 3 or 4 hours… We came from Indiana. We drove 24 hours in a weekend and made it to class on Monday. But at the end of the day, everyone running those rivers is a bit crazy, and no one was too surprised to learn that about our group.
We took a complicated route to the put-in, taking Isaiah, Christina and I through Ohio, bringing Jack straight south, and landing Hunter and Abel in… the middle of the Ocoee? Turns out, on their way to borrow the Aire Tributary (more on that later), they decided to throw an extra river into our already ambitious trip. But there’s no one better to tell the story than Hunter himself:
Abel and I drove from Purdue to OAR on the Ocoee river in Tennessee. We arrived at approximately 1am, where we collected our raft that we needed to borrow for the trip and settled down for a long, cold rest inside partially inflated rafts. 3 hours and 50 minutes later, we awoke from our slumber, packed up, and drove to the top of the middle Ocoee with the hopes of getting in an early morning kayaking run in before driving the rest of the way to North Carolina to meet with the rest of the trip members. Much to our dismay, there was no water releasing into the middle section of the river, making it unable for us to run. However, a small drive up the road revealed that the Olympic section of the river was running just enough to get a lap in. We parked our car at the top and waited for it to be light enough so we could see well enough to kayak. Once the sun was partially up, we unloaded our gear, donned our wetsuits, and lugged our boats down to the put in. We were on the water by 7:00 am. It was 33 degrees, our boats had ice in them, our feet were already numb, and it was awesome. Abel proceeded to kayak down the section flawlessly, while I beatered most of the way down before flipping, rolling, flipping again, smashing my head on a rock underwater, and swimming the last 1/3 of the section. After a nice shocking swim through part of Godzilla and the entirety of Humongous, I drained my boat and took the walk of shame to the car while Abel finished surfing in the waves. We packed up our now wet gear into the kayaks and loaded the kayaks back onto the car before making our way onward to the Cheoah river to start the real trip..
There’s always a mixture of vibes at a put-in: anticipation, adrenaline, competence (hopefully), nervousness, but mostly just excitement. That could just be me, projecting my river emotions onto all of the more-experienced people that I roam around, but I think everyone’s heart beats a little faster upriver. The Cheoah runs right next to a road, so even though it’s 9 miles long, setting shuttle was quick and easy. The raft crew (Hunter, Jack and I) goofed around pumping up the boat, and we all laid in the sun before getting on the river around 11.
The Cheoah was pure fun. Cheoah means “otter”, and I totally get why this river was named after such a playful, graceful little creature. The lines were tight, the rapids were fun, continuous, and a little tricky. Jeff’s advice was “stay left”, which was sound except for Bear’s Creek falls, because that’s the falls line. We stayed right. At the restaurant, we took what seemed to be the hardest line, way on river left. We hit every rock, almost pinned, looked completely out of control, and had the time of our lives. It was pretty cold, but I didn’t take a swim until the flatwater section at the take out. Can’t say the same for Jack though…
The highlight of my day was definitely my swim. We had made it down the first half of the Cheoah quite smoothly. We got ourselves into a few small pins, but nothing our fearless guide Isaiah couldn't conquer in his dry suit. We were quickly approaching a rock breaking the surface in the center of the river. It looked to be a meter or so in diameter; no biggie. It wasn't until the raft got right up on it when we saw the massive hole it made downstream. I remember Hunter exclaiming "that thing is the size of my car!" He drives an SUV, and he wasn't kidding. We managed to get the raft stuck on the upstream side of this rock. As usual, Isiah was able to free us, and we were quickly swept into the aforementioned SUV-swallowing hole. I don't remember exactly what happened next. I only know that I didn't grab onto anything when I definitely should have. Next thing I know, It's dark. I'm underwater, being thrashed around by this hole, and trying to orient myself to get to the surface. I make my way to the surface, only to run into the bottom of the raft with all of my dry friends on it, wondering where Jack is. I retreat deeper underwater, wait for half a second (it felt more like 5) and try again. Success! I surface adjacent to the raft, but need to navigate myself through this class IV rapid before I can be rescued. Remembering my whitewater safety brief, I get in the swimmer's position and hope the whitewater gods grant me safe passage through the rest of the rapids. I scraped my butt on some rocks, got pulled under through a wave train, kicked off of a rock, and did some sweet buttsurfing down a small waterfall. The worst was over, but I was still in the water and this river has no eddies. I managed to make my way to the edge of the water where I grabbed onto a tree trunk, and awaited the raft. They navigate the water with ease and make their way over to me. I throw my paddle onboard, grab onto Hunter's t-grip, and pull myself towards salvation. Carrie and Hunter were kind enough to lift me up. We exchange war stories and continue our way downriver.
The second time down, Abel guided the raft instead of Isaiah, who paddled the Antix. They definitely have different styles. Isaiah’s about getting the boat down the river, which was nice, especially on the Upper Gauley. Abel’s more like “ehh it’ll be fine!” and that’s exactly how our second run went. We slammed into rocks, got lost in the weeds, and spun our way down the river. It was great. We tried a strategy called ‘telepathy’ where no one communicated, and got stuck in some weeds and didn’t try it again. There was a beautiful moment where we turned a corner and the sun hit our faces and lit the entire river, turning it into a pale gold. We rode the gentle, continuous waves for a few minutes, until we passed back into the shade and more serious rapids.
At Bear Creek Falls, we almost missed the ferry and ran the falls, which would have been insane. We took the same crazy line down the restaurant rapid. That night, we ate Mexican food. We passed out of North Carolina, slept in South Carolina, and paddled in Georgia the next day.
Tallulah is a Native American word, meaning “leaping water”. It’s gorgeous. It’s narrower than the Cheoah – rafts with more than two thwarts and three passengers are banned. Our club raft wouldn’t have fit down that river so thank god for the trib. Oceana will take your breath away with sheer beauty, and then knock the rest of it out of you when you hit the Thing on the way down. Hunter, Isaiah and I made rafting more of a team effort that time down, and Hunter and I even got to R2 a bit. But if you’re looking for more of a kayaker’s perspective on this river, here it is, thanks to Christina:
The Tallulah is a fun and beautiful creek-style run boasting nearly twenty named rapids within 1 mile. It is known for the famous rapid Oceana and having around 600 steps leading down to the put in. (But don’t worry, you’ll only feel it the next day!) It is a dam release river that only runs 5 weekends of the year
Bring your A-game and your big boat to the Tallulah. It’s in a gorge so there’s pretty much no walking out and portages won’t be fun. You’re going to want to be able to punch through a lot of holes. Paddle hard! For me the Tallulah was a huge arm workout. Similar to the Cheoah, there isn’t a lot of time for thinking during the rapids. You have to react quickly to what you see because a lot of these rapids are steep and have a horizon line you can’t see over until you’re in it. But, most are followed by short pools. There is a great variety of rapid types from rock slides to tons of boofs and a groove/channel called Zoom Flume. On our trip it was great to have a guide because the rapids come up so fast. Anything you can do to give yourself more time to enjoy the scenery is recommended as well. We traveled with a pack of about seven kayaks and a raft and most of the eddies we stopped at were big enough to hold everyone.
People will say a lot of things about Oceana. I’ve heard people say basically that a monkey could stay upright down it, that it is 10% skill and 90% luck... whatever you believe, you can’t deny its size. Oceana, a giant rock slide, is the third rapid on the run, so warm up fast on Last Step and take some deep breaths while you wait in the pool. When we were there, someone on the bank was giving a thumbs up when the path was clear to go (super nice to have safety). Our guide recommended that we not look at it from above because it will just scare you. I am glad I followed that advice. Get some good beta because once you line up at the top, you’re going over mostly rock so you can’t paddle and it happens real fast. People refer to the wall of water that you will hit halfway down the rapid as “The Thing”. It’s caused by some kind of rock fin. Do your best to stay upright (if you care about your face) by leaning into the Thing, enjoy the ride and roll up at the bottom. Definitely look back at it from the bottom! It is unlike any other rapid I have run. There were a lot of people around when we were there, and someone was always ready at the bottom with a throw rope. All the POCers on this trip had a good, clean run of Oceana!
People say the stress level drops after Oceana. I don’t think the fun does though. This river was great from start to finish. How you feel about the lake paddle at the end of the run may depend on the weather. This trip we got some beautiful sun so it was nice and peaceful. The raft hung back and took their time while Abel and I caught a ride back to the put-in for the cars.
The parking lot at the put-in to the Tallulah has a big Boaters Only sign, which is pretty cool in itself. The AW page on the Tallulah says you will never have to pay to run it (which is fairly standard around the Southeast but you will appreciate more if you’ve paid for parking and permits in other parts of the country). On release weekends a team of volunteers collects waivers as you go down the steps and apparently there is also a sweep at the end of the day to make sure no one is stuck in the gorge. A ranger program in the area organizes a hike in to watch boaters go down Oceana. As fun as it is to paddle, it also feels good to know that the river has a community around it. I look forward to going back sometime.
Hi, it’s me again. The Tallulah was over way too soon. The take-out was an entire lake away. We messed around on the raft for 1.5 hours, floating down, flipping the raft and lying in the warm Georgia sun. At the take-out, the kayakers arrived with the cars, and we loaded up. Before the real roads with cops and pavement and high speed limits, Isaiah and I rode halfway out the windows of Christina’s sedan, Hunter and Abel in the exterra, close behind us with the warm fall day and the sun glinting through the yellow leaves. The drive home was long and we didn’t get back to Purdue until 4 am, but it was well worth it.
Carrie