The wet stuff falling from the sky earlier this week was a welcome sight. It's been a long dry spell around here.
Dry spells don't stop the floating and Meat joined me a couple mornings back for a float down to the ledges for a little fishing, a little swimming. I was in my old beat-up downhill kayak and he was in one of the inflatable kayaks laying around my garage.
If you know the trails, you can park at Rat Hole, float downstream to the ledges for a visit, then hike your boat a couple hundred yards upstream and paddle the rest of the way back to the parking lot.
It's not easy--especially if you're as beat up as us--but it's worth it.
The river was about as low as it gets. The water clarity makes every nook and cranny of the riverbed visible at the put-in. Chubs and minnows dance in the shallows as you float downstream and the bed almost meets the river's surface then plunges into one of its deepest places at Pool Point under the infamous railroad bridge.
But again the riverbed rises as the island splits the river below Pool Point and large reds are so close below us you think you might reach in and grab one.
"I'd grab one for sure if I had gloves on" declared Meat.
"You and Aquaman" I retorted.
Floating down Pool Point exit rapid, Meat's craft kept catching on rocks just under the surface. This caused him to lose control and his boat to spin down the rapid like a slow moving top until he hit the pourover hole at the bottom perfectly sideways.
Quick kayaking lesson here: Always square up to a hole and hit it perpendicularly (not sideways). That is the end of your quick kayaking lesson.
He had no time to brace as the hole immediately flipped his boat upstream, dumping him, his fishing pole, and the remaining seven Natuarl Lights in a 12-pack box into the rolling and shallow Russell Fork. He popped up just downstream holding one of the cans over his head.
Once I knew he was fine, I proceeded to fish the rest of the beer still in the box, the fishing pole, his drybox and the boat. Meat managed to fish himself out. He was sitting on a rock rubbing his head as I paddled the various parts up to him.
"I told you to wear a helmet."
"Didn't need it, but the life jacket came in handy. Where's my paddle there hero?"
I tracked his paddle floating downstream halfway to ledges and paddled back to him as he got back in the boat.
"Low as I've seen it" he grunted.
We paddled on to the ledges. When Meat indicated he was going to run the drops, I told him I'd wait below the second one for him. Just in case.
But Meat navigated the drops cleanly on a rapid that has taken more than a pound of flesh over the years. And once you're at the bottom of that Meatgrinder, you're at one of the best beaches on the river.
That's true no matter how dry it's been.