BrandonBellrose
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Thats a good idea, I'll start looking into that.
-
Steel Soldiers now has a few new forums, read more about it at: New Munitions Forums!
Tiny House On A Steel Soldier…………….Expedition Notes.
- Thread starter BrandonBellrose
- Start date
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Look into the "NOCO Genius" chargers, they make some compact yet more powerful 12/24v units, there has been plenty of talk about them on the forum. I have the smaller G7200 connected through my slave port and have been very impressed with it.
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Brandon you are documenting your trip in a very top shelf manner, seriously once I started reading I could not stop till the end! You and your family are running a trip that very few of us on this site ever get the chance or take the time to do!
Carry on and keep the pics and documentary coming please.
Karl
Carry on and keep the pics and documentary coming please.
Karl
BrandonBellrose
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Thank you Karl,
I wasn’t sure if I would find a audience at steelsoldier.com. Thank you for taking the time to stop by to give us your approval of the adventure. I felt that the only readers that would truly appreciate the hardship, risk, and achievement of our full time expedition across America would be military truck owners and enthusiasts. Your written words are deeply treasured giving the team(Family) add fuel to climb that next hill. We have so many more stories to tell. Looking forward to narrating events and sharring what we learned.
Brandon & Alisa Bellrose
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BrandonBellrose
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I have decided to add a story that is slightly out of order that occurred the day after we left Mt. Hood. I omitted the story not feeling that this was the appropriate forum for the retell. I'm reconsidering telling of the events because a lot of us here on SteelSoldiers.com are starting to feel our age and what implications age as on us. This is a adventure story not about the truck, but it is a event that the truck allowed me to have.
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BrandonBellrose
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Clackamas Whitewater Kayak River Rescue
After hanging out with the outdoor crowd on Mt. Hood I was itching to go whitewater kayaking so we turned our "Tiny House On A Steel Soldier" towards the Clackamas River hoping to find some like minded people to paddle with. The Clackamas River festival was just finishing up their yearly event as we pulled up to Carter bridge that spans the river near Carter Rapid. We pulled into Lockaby campground closest to the river festival finding a space near the walking trail to the event. Before we could setup camp a nice young woman strolled over making a few comments about the "Tiny House On A Steel Soldier" then asked if I was interested in going kayaking. After saying yes, we made plans to meet (Sadly I forgot their names) her and her husband at their campsite the next morning. The following day we met at the campground entrance and decided to paddle Three Lynx Power Station to Moore Creek access leaving Alisa, kids, and the "Tiny House On A Steel Soldier" at the Moore Creek take out taking the couples car to Three Lynx.
I hadn't paddle for a year kayaking Bear Trap Canyon on the Madison last year outside of Bozeman, Montana late fall. Navigating the Madison river was a journey through a remote Canyon floating laid back whitewater enjoying the company of rafting BLM rangers who were oaring two well marked law enforcement rafts. The Madison was well beyond peak run off so the class three white water was not pushy and the single class four rapid "Kitchen Sink" was well within my paddlings skills for the season.
On the other hand the Clackamas River was at full steam backed up with a epic snow year, with all the class 3+ rapids feeling brutishly pushy. Right off the bat the first rapid felt "game on" without a warmup , being the first run of my season I new I needed to be at full concentration. Rapids with names like Power House, Narrows, Roaring Rapid, and Hole in The Wall racked up muscle strain and stressed my endurance. By the time we made it to a calm section of the river above Carter Falls Rapid my fingers were cramping and I felt completely worn out.
My female kayak guide was spot on as I followed her from Rapid to Rapid with her husband bring up the rear in his catamaran raft as a safety. As long as I took her line I always was at the right place at the right time, giving me the confidence that I wasn't going to have to test a combat eskimo role. To be honest I can't even remember the last time I rolled my kayak. We never scouted any of the rapids, relying on the wife/husband team reassuring me that the rapids were not that aggressive and had limited consequences. We would float up to a Rapid and my guide would give me a brief break down of what was coming then we would run it. Upon arriving above Hole in The Wall Rapid my guide was explaining a feature in the river that traps boaters in a inescapable whirlpool, and because she was pregnant that she was going to be extra careful to take the river right line. The fact that she was pregnant played into a couple of bad decisions made by me that were now currently playing out as we floated into Clarter Rapid with a bit to much confidence and not enough endurance.
All of us were having a good run I didn't want to spoil the rhythm of the day saying I needed a rest, nor would my male ego allow me not to keep up with my highly skilled pregnant guide. So without pumping the needed adrenaline into my brain because I was over confident, and having no fear I drifted into Carter falls sideways thinking my skills could correct anything I paddle into. My guide disappeared immediately over the edge of the Rapid cutting off me seeing her line that I had used through out the day to cheat navigating myself. Now I was on my own floating sideways into a class 4 Rapid that I had not scouted, to say that became unpopular to me quick is a understatement.
Letting the current sweep me over the edge with a lazy brace stroke supporting me and the kayak pointed at the river right shoreline, the first hole I dropped into did not have favorable results. With no forward momentum I couldn't punch through a paper bag let alone this hole that wanted to do dark bad things to me. I was upside down in micro seconds trying to bring my paddle up next to my kayak to attempt a roll. Without any endurance left, and the fact that my muscle memory of rolling a kayak was trapped behind some locked door. Adding to the fact that the river was a arctic cold high 30's something degrees. I felt my lungs gasping for air even though I had only been upside down for maybe two seconds. I pulled my skirt letting gravity pull me out of the cockpit, finding myself swimming the heart of the Rapid dropping into the next large hole scraping a large boulder underneath to great surprise.
The water was bone chilly cold and my life jacket wasn't tight enough riding high on my shoulders. Grabbing short gasps of air was posing difficult but I managed to at least keep my paddle quickly losing control of my creek boat. I made a brief attempt to swim towards the boat, changing my mind after seeing that my one air bag was barely floating the craft. I knew as I was forced to time breaths between waves I was in no condition to alter the kayaks course. Floating under Carter bridge the river had calmed. I should have been able to get to shore on my own not needing to be a burden to the other paddlers as they chased down my water logged kayak. Instead regardless of what I did I couldn't swim into any of the eddy lines. My pregnant guide staying next to me trying to help me decided what my options were I found myself being swept into the next Rapid. Quickly pointing my feet down stream to prevent a foot entrapment, with paddle in one hand and holding the strap on the back of her kayak in the other we plunged into the next set of rapids. I started inhaling water as I found it harder and harder to grab a breath that didn't include river water. Being dead weight with feet pointed down steam paddle in hand I was zero help to my rescuer, forcing my pregnant friend to fight the river and my 230 pounds. I began to realize that I was in the beginning stages of drowning, I decided to let go of her kayak and make a last ditch effort to cross any of the eddy lines that seemed to be passing by so quickly. Getting into the prone position I started kayak paddling my body before I got swept into the next Rapid. Each paddle stroke depleted what was left of my energy but I was successful and I made it into the eddy. My guide told me I was in shallow enough water to stand up, so I carefully put my feet down to anchor myself so I wouldn't washout the back side of the eddy.
To my disbelief I didn't have the strength to stand in the beginning, leading me to realize just how close I was to the end of what body could do that day. I shot a comment to my guide saying "gee is this what 53 really feels like". I felt completely helpless, causing her to promptly tell me to sit down before I fell down. Once perched on a rock I could see her husband downstream fighting to get control of my submerged kayak as he quickly floated beyond view. As I warmed up out of the water my strength quickly returned. Realizing that my faithful river guide would now have to paddle the Clackamas solo to catch-up with her husband fighting to save my gear, I figured it was time to urge her to abandon me. She agreed, leaving me to climb a steep incline to the road above not knowing when I would see my companions or equipment again.
I walked quite along time to a stretch of river called Big Eddy. During my walk I increasingly felt embarrassed that my class 5 glory days of whitewater kayaking might be far in my past. I became extremely frustrated with myself that I let the only sport I had truly mastered creep in fear that I might never again feel that nirvana. Upon seeing the Husband/Wife team come into view with my Fluid kayak safely strapped to the catamaran, I new I had to gain my composure to complete the rest of the run.
I slipped back into the cockpit of the creek boat, looking at my boating partners I reported sternly that I was tired. Not knowing what was around the next bend I didn't feel confident that I would survive another swim. Neither of them seem to be worried, commenting that we had made remarkable time navigating the river regardless of my swim. Without much thought I found myself back in strong river current again with a demoralized ego and very unsure what my body had left to conquer the Clackamas. I was hoping nothing was left but a few easy wave trains thinking it would be nice to round a bend and see the wife and kids waiting for me next to the "Tiny House On A Steel Soldier". But the Clackamas wasn't done for the day with one card left in the deck, a Rapid called "Toilet Bowl".
As soon as I saw "Toilet Bowl" I new it was going to be big, when I saw my guide get tossed around tipping over. I felt extreme dread that if she was having issues, I was going to be a Clackamas statistic. The waves were so large that they were falling back onto themselves crashing into me like i had hit a semi truck. Again I felt the sinking feeling of myself beginning to role into the cold only to be righted in the correct upright position by the following even larger wave. To my great relief the river allowed me to stay upright and even allowed a small victory.
My wife and kids greeted me as I touched the front of my kayak to bank of the river at the end of our journey. The Clackamas had allowed me to finish, now I could add her to all the other rivers I had paddle over forty years of whitewater kayaking. Unlike the many other rivers, the Clackamas had a message she had devilishly delivered. I was getting older, life was fragile, and my edge had dulled. If I was going to fully enjoy a run like her again I needed to earn it by putting in a effort retraining my body. If my spirit had aged and I was unwilling to put in the work that it takes to challenge nature then it was time to let her go on without me.
ards the Clackamas River hoping to find some like minded people to paddle with. The Clackamas River festival was just finishing up their yearly event as we pulled up to Carter bridge that spans the river near Carter Rapid. We pulled into Lockaby campground closest to the river festival finding a space near the walking trail to the event. Before we could setup camp a nice young woman strolled over making a few comments about the "Tiny House On A Steel Soldier" then asked if I was interested in going kayaking. After saying yes, we made plans to meet (Sadly I forgot their names) her and her husband at their campsite the next morning. The following day we met at the campground entrance and decided to paddle Three Lynx Power Station to Moore Creek access leaving Alisa, kids, and the "Tiny House On A Steel Soldier" at the Moore Creek take out taking the couples car to Three Lynx.
I hadn't paddle for a year kayaking Bear Trap Canyon on the Madison last year outside of Bozeman, Montana late fall. Navigating the Madison river was a journey through a remote Canyon floating laid back whitewater enjoying the company of rafting BLM rangers who were oaring two well marked law enforcement rafts. The Madison was well beyond peak run off so the class three white water was not pushy and the single class four rapid "Kitchen Sink" was well within my paddlings skills for the season.
On the other hand the Clackamas River was at full steam backed up with a epic snow year, with all the class 3+ rapids feeling brutishly pushy. Right off the bat the first rapid felt "game on" without a warmup , being the first run of my season I new I needed to be at full concentration. Rapids with names like Power House, Narrows, Roaring Rapid, and Hole in The Wall racked up muscle strain and stressed my endurance. By the time we made it to a calm section of the river above Carter Falls Rapid my fingers were cramping and I felt completely worn out.
My female kayak guide was spot on as I followed her from Rapid to Rapid with her husband bring up the rear in his catamaran raft as a safety. As long as I took her line I always was at the right place at the right time, giving me the confidence that I wasn't going to have to test a combat eskimo role. To be honest I can't even remember the last time I rolled my kayak. We never scouted any of the rapids, relying on the wife/husband team reassuring me that the rapids were not that aggressive and had limited consequences. We would float up to a Rapid and my guide would give me a brief break down of what was coming then we would run it. Upon arriving above Hole in The Wall Rapid my guide was explaining a feature in the river that traps boaters in a inescapable whirlpool, and because she was pregnant that she was going to be extra careful to take the river right line. The fact that she was pregnant played into a couple of bad decisions made by me that were now currently playing out as we floated into Clarter Rapid with a bit to much confidence and not enough endurance.
All of us were having a good run I didn't want to spoil the rhythm of the day saying I needed a rest, nor would my male ego allow me not to keep up with my highly skilled pregnant guide. So without pumping the needed adrenaline into my brain because I was over confident, and having no fear I drifted into Carter falls sideways thinking my skills could correct anything I paddle into. My guide disappeared immediately over the edge of the Rapid cutting off me seeing her line that I had used through out the day to cheat navigating myself. Now I was on my own floating sideways into a class 4 Rapid that I had not scouted, to say that became unpopular to me quick is a understatement.
Letting the current sweep me over the edge with a lazy brace stroke supporting me and the kayak pointed at the river right shoreline, the first hole I dropped into did not have favorable results. With no forward momentum I couldn't punch through a paper bag let alone this hole that wanted to do dark bad things to me. I was upside down in micro seconds trying to bring my paddle up next to my kayak to attempt a roll. Without any endurance left, and the fact that my muscle memory of rolling a kayak was trapped behind some locked door. Adding to the fact that the river was a arctic cold high 30's something degrees. I felt my lungs gasping for air even though I had only been upside down for maybe two seconds. I pulled my skirt letting gravity pull me out of the cockpit, finding myself swimming the heart of the Rapid dropping into the next large hole scraping a large boulder underneath to great surprise.
The water was bone chilly cold and my life jacket wasn't tight enough riding high on my shoulders. Grabbing short gasps of air was posing difficult but I managed to at least keep my paddle quickly losing control of my creek boat. I made a brief attempt to swim towards the boat, changing my mind after seeing that my one air bag was barely floating the craft. I knew as I was forced to time breaths between waves I was in no condition to alter the kayaks course. Floating under Carter bridge the river had calmed. I should have been able to get to shore on my own not needing to be a burden to the other paddlers as they chased down my water logged kayak. Instead regardless of what I did I couldn't swim into any of the eddy lines. My pregnant guide staying next to me trying to help me decided what my options were I found myself being swept into the next Rapid. Quickly pointing my feet down stream to prevent a foot entrapment, with paddle in one hand and holding the strap on the back of her kayak in the other we plunged into the next set of rapids. I started inhaling water as I found it harder and harder to grab a breath that didn't include river water. Being dead weight with feet pointed down steam paddle in hand I was zero help to my rescuer, forcing my pregnant friend to fight the river and my 230 pounds. I began to realize that I was in the beginning stages of drowning, I decided to let go of her kayak and make a last ditch effort to cross any of the eddy lines that seemed to be passing by so quickly. Getting into the prone position I started kayak paddling my body before I got swept into the next Rapid. Each paddle stroke depleted what was left of my energy but I was successful and I made it into the eddy. My guide told me I was in shallow enough water to stand up, so I carefully put my feet down to anchor myself so I wouldn't washout the back side of the eddy.
To my disbelief I didn't have the strength to stand in the beginning, leading me to realize just how close I was to the end of what body could do that day. I shot a comment to my guide saying "gee is this what 53 really feels like". I felt completely helpless, causing her to promptly tell me to sit down before I fell down. Once perched on a rock I could see her husband downstream fighting to get control of my submerged kayak as he quickly floated beyond view. As I warmed up out of the water my strength quickly returned. Realizing that my faithful river guide would now have to paddle the Clackamas solo to catch-up with her husband fighting to save my gear, I figured it was time to urge her to abandon me. She agreed, leaving me to climb a steep incline to the road above not knowing when I would see my companions or equipment again.
I walked quite along time to a stretch of river called Big Eddy. During my walk I increasingly felt embarrassed that my class 5 glory days of whitewater kayaking might be far in my past. I became extremely frustrated with myself that I let the only sport I had truly mastered creep in fear that I might never again feel that nirvana. Upon seeing the Husband/Wife team come into view with my Fluid kayak safely strapped to the catamaran, I new I had to gain my composure to complete the rest of the run.
I slipped back into the cockpit of the creek boat, looking at my boating partners I reported sternly that I was tired. Not knowing what was around the next bend I didn't feel confident that I would survive another swim. Neither of them seem to be worried, commenting that we had made remarkable time navigating the river regardless of my swim. Without much thought I found myself back in strong river current again with a demoralized ego and very unsure what my body had left to conquer the Clackamas. I was hoping nothing was left but a few easy wave trains thinking it would be nice to round a bend and see the wife and kids waiting for me next to the "Tiny House On A Steel Soldier". But the Clackamas wasn't done for the day with one card left in the deck, a Rapid called "Toilet Bowl".
As soon as I saw "Toilet Bowl" I new it was going to be big, when I saw my guide get tossed around tipping over. I felt extreme dread that if she was having issues, I was going to be a Clackamas statistic. The waves were so large that they were falling back onto themselves crashing into me like i had hit a semi truck. Again I felt the sinking feeling of myself beginning to role into the cold only to be righted in the correct upright position by the following even larger wave. To my great relief the river allowed me to stay upright and even allowed a small victory.
My wife and kids greeted me as I touched the front of my kayak to bank of the river at the end of our journey. The Clackamas had allowed me to finish, now I could add her to all the other rivers I had paddle over forty years of whitewater kayaking. Unlike the many other rivers, the Clackamas had a message she had devilishly delivered. I was getting older, life was fragile, and my edge had dulled. If I was going to fully enjoy a run like her again I needed to earn it by putting in a effort retraining my body. If my spirit had aged and I was unwilling to put in the work that it takes to challenge nature then it was time to let her go on without me.
After hanging out with the outdoor crowd on Mt. Hood I was itching to go whitewater kayaking so we turned our "Tiny House On A Steel Soldier" towards the Clackamas River hoping to find some like minded people to paddle with. The Clackamas River festival was just finishing up their yearly event as we pulled up to Carter bridge that spans the river near Carter Rapid. We pulled into Lockaby campground closest to the river festival finding a space near the walking trail to the event. Before we could setup camp a nice young woman strolled over making a few comments about the "Tiny House On A Steel Soldier" then asked if I was interested in going kayaking. After saying yes, we made plans to meet (Sadly I forgot their names) her and her husband at their campsite the next morning. The following day we met at the campground entrance and decided to paddle Three Lynx Power Station to Moore Creek access leaving Alisa, kids, and the "Tiny House On A Steel Soldier" at the Moore Creek take out taking the couples car to Three Lynx.
I hadn't paddle for a year kayaking Bear Trap Canyon on the Madison last year outside of Bozeman, Montana late fall. Navigating the Madison river was a journey through a remote Canyon floating laid back whitewater enjoying the company of rafting BLM rangers who were oaring two well marked law enforcement rafts. The Madison was well beyond peak run off so the class three white water was not pushy and the single class four rapid "Kitchen Sink" was well within my paddlings skills for the season.
On the other hand the Clackamas River was at full steam backed up with a epic snow year, with all the class 3+ rapids feeling brutishly pushy. Right off the bat the first rapid felt "game on" without a warmup , being the first run of my season I new I needed to be at full concentration. Rapids with names like Power House, Narrows, Roaring Rapid, and Hole in The Wall racked up muscle strain and stressed my endurance. By the time we made it to a calm section of the river above Carter Falls Rapid my fingers were cramping and I felt completely worn out.
My female kayak guide was spot on as I followed her from Rapid to Rapid with her husband bring up the rear in his catamaran raft as a safety. As long as I took her line I always was at the right place at the right time, giving me the confidence that I wasn't going to have to test a combat eskimo role. To be honest I can't even remember the last time I rolled my kayak. We never scouted any of the rapids, relying on the wife/husband team reassuring me that the rapids were not that aggressive and had limited consequences. We would float up to a Rapid and my guide would give me a brief break down of what was coming then we would run it. Upon arriving above Hole in The Wall Rapid my guide was explaining a feature in the river that traps boaters in a inescapable whirlpool, and because she was pregnant that she was going to be extra careful to take the river right line. The fact that she was pregnant played into a couple of bad decisions made by me that were now currently playing out as we floated into Clarter Rapid with a bit to much confidence and not enough endurance.
All of us were having a good run I didn't want to spoil the rhythm of the day saying I needed a rest, nor would my male ego allow me not to keep up with my highly skilled pregnant guide. So without pumping the needed adrenaline into my brain because I was over confident, and having no fear I drifted into Carter falls sideways thinking my skills could correct anything I paddle into. My guide disappeared immediately over the edge of the Rapid cutting off me seeing her line that I had used through out the day to cheat navigating myself. Now I was on my own floating sideways into a class 4 Rapid that I had not scouted, to say that became unpopular to me quick is a understatement.
Letting the current sweep me over the edge with a lazy brace stroke supporting me and the kayak pointed at the river right shoreline, the first hole I dropped into did not have favorable results. With no forward momentum I couldn't punch through a paper bag let alone this hole that wanted to do dark bad things to me. I was upside down in micro seconds trying to bring my paddle up next to my kayak to attempt a roll. Without any endurance left, and the fact that my muscle memory of rolling a kayak was trapped behind some locked door. Adding to the fact that the river was a arctic cold high 30's something degrees. I felt my lungs gasping for air even though I had only been upside down for maybe two seconds. I pulled my skirt letting gravity pull me out of the cockpit, finding myself swimming the heart of the Rapid dropping into the next large hole scraping a large boulder underneath to great surprise.
The water was bone chilly cold and my life jacket wasn't tight enough riding high on my shoulders. Grabbing short gasps of air was posing difficult but I managed to at least keep my paddle quickly losing control of my creek boat. I made a brief attempt to swim towards the boat, changing my mind after seeing that my one air bag was barely floating the craft. I knew as I was forced to time breaths between waves I was in no condition to alter the kayaks course. Floating under Carter bridge the river had calmed. I should have been able to get to shore on my own not needing to be a burden to the other paddlers as they chased down my water logged kayak. Instead regardless of what I did I couldn't swim into any of the eddy lines. My pregnant guide staying next to me trying to help me decided what my options were I found myself being swept into the next Rapid. Quickly pointing my feet down stream to prevent a foot entrapment, with paddle in one hand and holding the strap on the back of her kayak in the other we plunged into the next set of rapids. I started inhaling water as I found it harder and harder to grab a breath that didn't include river water. Being dead weight with feet pointed down steam paddle in hand I was zero help to my rescuer, forcing my pregnant friend to fight the river and my 230 pounds. I began to realize that I was in the beginning stages of drowning, I decided to let go of her kayak and make a last ditch effort to cross any of the eddy lines that seemed to be passing by so quickly. Getting into the prone position I started kayak paddling my body before I got swept into the next Rapid. Each paddle stroke depleted what was left of my energy but I was successful and I made it into the eddy. My guide told me I was in shallow enough water to stand up, so I carefully put my feet down to anchor myself so I wouldn't washout the back side of the eddy.
To my disbelief I didn't have the strength to stand in the beginning, leading me to realize just how close I was to the end of what body could do that day. I shot a comment to my guide saying "gee is this what 53 really feels like". I felt completely helpless, causing her to promptly tell me to sit down before I fell down. Once perched on a rock I could see her husband downstream fighting to get control of my submerged kayak as he quickly floated beyond view. As I warmed up out of the water my strength quickly returned. Realizing that my faithful river guide would now have to paddle the Clackamas solo to catch-up with her husband fighting to save my gear, I figured it was time to urge her to abandon me. She agreed, leaving me to climb a steep incline to the road above not knowing when I would see my companions or equipment again.
I walked quite along time to a stretch of river called Big Eddy. During my walk I increasingly felt embarrassed that my class 5 glory days of whitewater kayaking might be far in my past. I became extremely frustrated with myself that I let the only sport I had truly mastered creep in fear that I might never again feel that nirvana. Upon seeing the Husband/Wife team come into view with my Fluid kayak safely strapped to the catamaran, I new I had to gain my composure to complete the rest of the run.
I slipped back into the cockpit of the creek boat, looking at my boating partners I reported sternly that I was tired. Not knowing what was around the next bend I didn't feel confident that I would survive another swim. Neither of them seem to be worried, commenting that we had made remarkable time navigating the river regardless of my swim. Without much thought I found myself back in strong river current again with a demoralized ego and very unsure what my body had left to conquer the Clackamas. I was hoping nothing was left but a few easy wave trains thinking it would be nice to round a bend and see the wife and kids waiting for me next to the "Tiny House On A Steel Soldier". But the Clackamas wasn't done for the day with one card left in the deck, a Rapid called "Toilet Bowl".
As soon as I saw "Toilet Bowl" I new it was going to be big, when I saw my guide get tossed around tipping over. I felt extreme dread that if she was having issues, I was going to be a Clackamas statistic. The waves were so large that they were falling back onto themselves crashing into me like i had hit a semi truck. Again I felt the sinking feeling of myself beginning to role into the cold only to be righted in the correct upright position by the following even larger wave. To my great relief the river allowed me to stay upright and even allowed a small victory.
My wife and kids greeted me as I touched the front of my kayak to bank of the river at the end of our journey. The Clackamas had allowed me to finish, now I could add her to all the other rivers I had paddle over forty years of whitewater kayaking. Unlike the many other rivers, the Clackamas had a message she had devilishly delivered. I was getting older, life was fragile, and my edge had dulled. If I was going to fully enjoy a run like her again I needed to earn it by putting in a effort retraining my body. If my spirit had aged and I was unwilling to put in the work that it takes to challenge nature then it was time to let her go on without me.
ards the Clackamas River hoping to find some like minded people to paddle with. The Clackamas River festival was just finishing up their yearly event as we pulled up to Carter bridge that spans the river near Carter Rapid. We pulled into Lockaby campground closest to the river festival finding a space near the walking trail to the event. Before we could setup camp a nice young woman strolled over making a few comments about the "Tiny House On A Steel Soldier" then asked if I was interested in going kayaking. After saying yes, we made plans to meet (Sadly I forgot their names) her and her husband at their campsite the next morning. The following day we met at the campground entrance and decided to paddle Three Lynx Power Station to Moore Creek access leaving Alisa, kids, and the "Tiny House On A Steel Soldier" at the Moore Creek take out taking the couples car to Three Lynx.
I hadn't paddle for a year kayaking Bear Trap Canyon on the Madison last year outside of Bozeman, Montana late fall. Navigating the Madison river was a journey through a remote Canyon floating laid back whitewater enjoying the company of rafting BLM rangers who were oaring two well marked law enforcement rafts. The Madison was well beyond peak run off so the class three white water was not pushy and the single class four rapid "Kitchen Sink" was well within my paddlings skills for the season.
On the other hand the Clackamas River was at full steam backed up with a epic snow year, with all the class 3+ rapids feeling brutishly pushy. Right off the bat the first rapid felt "game on" without a warmup , being the first run of my season I new I needed to be at full concentration. Rapids with names like Power House, Narrows, Roaring Rapid, and Hole in The Wall racked up muscle strain and stressed my endurance. By the time we made it to a calm section of the river above Carter Falls Rapid my fingers were cramping and I felt completely worn out.
My female kayak guide was spot on as I followed her from Rapid to Rapid with her husband bring up the rear in his catamaran raft as a safety. As long as I took her line I always was at the right place at the right time, giving me the confidence that I wasn't going to have to test a combat eskimo role. To be honest I can't even remember the last time I rolled my kayak. We never scouted any of the rapids, relying on the wife/husband team reassuring me that the rapids were not that aggressive and had limited consequences. We would float up to a Rapid and my guide would give me a brief break down of what was coming then we would run it. Upon arriving above Hole in The Wall Rapid my guide was explaining a feature in the river that traps boaters in a inescapable whirlpool, and because she was pregnant that she was going to be extra careful to take the river right line. The fact that she was pregnant played into a couple of bad decisions made by me that were now currently playing out as we floated into Clarter Rapid with a bit to much confidence and not enough endurance.
All of us were having a good run I didn't want to spoil the rhythm of the day saying I needed a rest, nor would my male ego allow me not to keep up with my highly skilled pregnant guide. So without pumping the needed adrenaline into my brain because I was over confident, and having no fear I drifted into Carter falls sideways thinking my skills could correct anything I paddle into. My guide disappeared immediately over the edge of the Rapid cutting off me seeing her line that I had used through out the day to cheat navigating myself. Now I was on my own floating sideways into a class 4 Rapid that I had not scouted, to say that became unpopular to me quick is a understatement.
Letting the current sweep me over the edge with a lazy brace stroke supporting me and the kayak pointed at the river right shoreline, the first hole I dropped into did not have favorable results. With no forward momentum I couldn't punch through a paper bag let alone this hole that wanted to do dark bad things to me. I was upside down in micro seconds trying to bring my paddle up next to my kayak to attempt a roll. Without any endurance left, and the fact that my muscle memory of rolling a kayak was trapped behind some locked door. Adding to the fact that the river was a arctic cold high 30's something degrees. I felt my lungs gasping for air even though I had only been upside down for maybe two seconds. I pulled my skirt letting gravity pull me out of the cockpit, finding myself swimming the heart of the Rapid dropping into the next large hole scraping a large boulder underneath to great surprise.
The water was bone chilly cold and my life jacket wasn't tight enough riding high on my shoulders. Grabbing short gasps of air was posing difficult but I managed to at least keep my paddle quickly losing control of my creek boat. I made a brief attempt to swim towards the boat, changing my mind after seeing that my one air bag was barely floating the craft. I knew as I was forced to time breaths between waves I was in no condition to alter the kayaks course. Floating under Carter bridge the river had calmed. I should have been able to get to shore on my own not needing to be a burden to the other paddlers as they chased down my water logged kayak. Instead regardless of what I did I couldn't swim into any of the eddy lines. My pregnant guide staying next to me trying to help me decided what my options were I found myself being swept into the next Rapid. Quickly pointing my feet down stream to prevent a foot entrapment, with paddle in one hand and holding the strap on the back of her kayak in the other we plunged into the next set of rapids. I started inhaling water as I found it harder and harder to grab a breath that didn't include river water. Being dead weight with feet pointed down steam paddle in hand I was zero help to my rescuer, forcing my pregnant friend to fight the river and my 230 pounds. I began to realize that I was in the beginning stages of drowning, I decided to let go of her kayak and make a last ditch effort to cross any of the eddy lines that seemed to be passing by so quickly. Getting into the prone position I started kayak paddling my body before I got swept into the next Rapid. Each paddle stroke depleted what was left of my energy but I was successful and I made it into the eddy. My guide told me I was in shallow enough water to stand up, so I carefully put my feet down to anchor myself so I wouldn't washout the back side of the eddy.
To my disbelief I didn't have the strength to stand in the beginning, leading me to realize just how close I was to the end of what body could do that day. I shot a comment to my guide saying "gee is this what 53 really feels like". I felt completely helpless, causing her to promptly tell me to sit down before I fell down. Once perched on a rock I could see her husband downstream fighting to get control of my submerged kayak as he quickly floated beyond view. As I warmed up out of the water my strength quickly returned. Realizing that my faithful river guide would now have to paddle the Clackamas solo to catch-up with her husband fighting to save my gear, I figured it was time to urge her to abandon me. She agreed, leaving me to climb a steep incline to the road above not knowing when I would see my companions or equipment again.
I walked quite along time to a stretch of river called Big Eddy. During my walk I increasingly felt embarrassed that my class 5 glory days of whitewater kayaking might be far in my past. I became extremely frustrated with myself that I let the only sport I had truly mastered creep in fear that I might never again feel that nirvana. Upon seeing the Husband/Wife team come into view with my Fluid kayak safely strapped to the catamaran, I new I had to gain my composure to complete the rest of the run.
I slipped back into the cockpit of the creek boat, looking at my boating partners I reported sternly that I was tired. Not knowing what was around the next bend I didn't feel confident that I would survive another swim. Neither of them seem to be worried, commenting that we had made remarkable time navigating the river regardless of my swim. Without much thought I found myself back in strong river current again with a demoralized ego and very unsure what my body had left to conquer the Clackamas. I was hoping nothing was left but a few easy wave trains thinking it would be nice to round a bend and see the wife and kids waiting for me next to the "Tiny House On A Steel Soldier". But the Clackamas wasn't done for the day with one card left in the deck, a Rapid called "Toilet Bowl".
As soon as I saw "Toilet Bowl" I new it was going to be big, when I saw my guide get tossed around tipping over. I felt extreme dread that if she was having issues, I was going to be a Clackamas statistic. The waves were so large that they were falling back onto themselves crashing into me like i had hit a semi truck. Again I felt the sinking feeling of myself beginning to role into the cold only to be righted in the correct upright position by the following even larger wave. To my great relief the river allowed me to stay upright and even allowed a small victory.
My wife and kids greeted me as I touched the front of my kayak to bank of the river at the end of our journey. The Clackamas had allowed me to finish, now I could add her to all the other rivers I had paddle over forty years of whitewater kayaking. Unlike the many other rivers, the Clackamas had a message she had devilishly delivered. I was getting older, life was fragile, and my edge had dulled. If I was going to fully enjoy a run like her again I needed to earn it by putting in a effort retraining my body. If my spirit had aged and I was unwilling to put in the work that it takes to challenge nature then it was time to let her go on without me.
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BrandonBellrose
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Traveling throughout Oregon is a story of interesting paradoxes for us people not aquatinted with how the local Oregon population lives with their truly unique outdoor environment. Within short distances you can go from a high desert to wet lush forest breaking out into dunes that finish onto pounding surf. Every time you turn a corner you don’t quite know what your going to get. So I thought I would share a picture I took while shopping at a Florence, Oregon Fred Myer grocery store. Now keep in mind that this is taken from a busy parking lot in America not Saudi Arabia.
The kids felt that they had landed in a scene from the movie Star Wars, Luke Skywalker and R2D2 being their guide as they traversed back to the (Tiny House On A Steel Soldier) space frieghter for more supplies and gear.
The kids felt that they had landed in a scene from the movie Star Wars, Luke Skywalker and R2D2 being their guide as they traversed back to the (Tiny House On A Steel Soldier) space frieghter for more supplies and gear.
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BrandonBellrose
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Sunsets Sunsets Sunsets
Living in Colorado, Wyoming, Nevada, and Montana where I have spent the last twenty five years of my life I have viewed many mountainous sunsets. After awhile the sunsets start to come and go until you don’t even stop to think about them as they pass. Oregon ocean beach sunsets brought back what it meant to stop look up and enjoy the end of the day. The family became hardwired into the daily planning of where we would be as the sun started falling towards western horizon. Florence, Oregon was no different then the many other spots that we watched the earth do its daily show once every 24 hours. The only thing that had changed was where and how we watched the sunset. Having dinner and a glass of wine with a epic view, it took a military 6x6 5ton expedition vehicle to earn that perfect parking spot.
Living in Colorado, Wyoming, Nevada, and Montana where I have spent the last twenty five years of my life I have viewed many mountainous sunsets. After awhile the sunsets start to come and go until you don’t even stop to think about them as they pass. Oregon ocean beach sunsets brought back what it meant to stop look up and enjoy the end of the day. The family became hardwired into the daily planning of where we would be as the sun started falling towards western horizon. Florence, Oregon was no different then the many other spots that we watched the earth do its daily show once every 24 hours. The only thing that had changed was where and how we watched the sunset. Having dinner and a glass of wine with a epic view, it took a military 6x6 5ton expedition vehicle to earn that perfect parking spot.
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BrandonBellrose
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Base Camp
Leaving Siltcoos, Florence, and Dunes City we headed south with the end destination being North Bend and Coosbay, Oregon. We planned to use these sister cities as our summer base camp while we explore up and down the Oregon Coast.
Every time you drive into a town in the Tiny House On A Steel Soldier you never know quite how you will be received. A war machine driving around town conjures up many different feelings from many different people. Topics such as the environment, veterans, government spending, prepping, homelessness, camping, dune/beach off-roading come up in daily conversation as we visited coast towns.
I would say without a doubt that this Oregon Bay community with deep mariner heritage reach out to our journey making us feel this was our second home. Tiny House On A Steel Soldier will always remember all the people that took the time to stop and talk with us. We plan on sharing the stories that effected us the most, by no means forgetting all the rest. Thumbs up to Coosbay, North Bend, and Charleston.
Leaving Siltcoos, Florence, and Dunes City we headed south with the end destination being North Bend and Coosbay, Oregon. We planned to use these sister cities as our summer base camp while we explore up and down the Oregon Coast.
Every time you drive into a town in the Tiny House On A Steel Soldier you never know quite how you will be received. A war machine driving around town conjures up many different feelings from many different people. Topics such as the environment, veterans, government spending, prepping, homelessness, camping, dune/beach off-roading come up in daily conversation as we visited coast towns.
I would say without a doubt that this Oregon Bay community with deep mariner heritage reach out to our journey making us feel this was our second home. Tiny House On A Steel Soldier will always remember all the people that took the time to stop and talk with us. We plan on sharing the stories that effected us the most, by no means forgetting all the rest. Thumbs up to Coosbay, North Bend, and Charleston.
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BrandonBellrose
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Bastendorf Beach
As soon as we pulled into North Bend hitting Walmart for supplies it was quickly decided to head to the beach via Cape Arago Hwy along the inlet bay to Charleston, Oregon.
Charleston is a small harbor town just a mile from the Coosbay jetty inlet, the town offering several restaurants, a fresh fish market, convenient stores, and multiple business catering to the boating and fishing industry.
Both sides of Coosbay’s jetty off-road vehicles have access to the sand near the crashing surf, we decided to boondock the south side of the jetty called Bastendorf beach. Getting access to the beach you have two choices, one being you can driving in the sand along the big rocks of the jetty until you get to a sign saying you cant drive any further. The second access is driving on a sandy trail which travels around the top of the beach narrowly missing dense beach trees and bushes to get a higher but equally appealing vantage of jetty and beach. Upon this beach visitation we decided to try the first option, driving in the deep sand along the jetty wall.
After doing some internet searches on Bastendorf Beach, this unique scenic beach has a lawless reputation. Murders, rapes, drugs, fights, and raging parties make for a interesting history for what we thought was a peaceful night stay. Ocean going ships sounding marine horns navigating Coos Bay Jetty, the crashing of the surf created a tranquil setting for an incredible sunset and sound sleeping. It wasn't until I started reading the history of ship wrecks, drownings, missing sailors while navigating the Inlet jetty that I stumbled on the many horror type stories of the surrounding beach.
Watching the kids make sand castles and our Labrador chasing a ball through the surf it's hard to imagine this area has such a dark cloud hovering over it. What was a dark place for some was a four day paradise for us. I hope as the years go by friendlier times shine on this beautiful place.
As soon as we pulled into North Bend hitting Walmart for supplies it was quickly decided to head to the beach via Cape Arago Hwy along the inlet bay to Charleston, Oregon.
Charleston is a small harbor town just a mile from the Coosbay jetty inlet, the town offering several restaurants, a fresh fish market, convenient stores, and multiple business catering to the boating and fishing industry.
Both sides of Coosbay’s jetty off-road vehicles have access to the sand near the crashing surf, we decided to boondock the south side of the jetty called Bastendorf beach. Getting access to the beach you have two choices, one being you can driving in the sand along the big rocks of the jetty until you get to a sign saying you cant drive any further. The second access is driving on a sandy trail which travels around the top of the beach narrowly missing dense beach trees and bushes to get a higher but equally appealing vantage of jetty and beach. Upon this beach visitation we decided to try the first option, driving in the deep sand along the jetty wall.
After doing some internet searches on Bastendorf Beach, this unique scenic beach has a lawless reputation. Murders, rapes, drugs, fights, and raging parties make for a interesting history for what we thought was a peaceful night stay. Ocean going ships sounding marine horns navigating Coos Bay Jetty, the crashing of the surf created a tranquil setting for an incredible sunset and sound sleeping. It wasn't until I started reading the history of ship wrecks, drownings, missing sailors while navigating the Inlet jetty that I stumbled on the many horror type stories of the surrounding beach.
Watching the kids make sand castles and our Labrador chasing a ball through the surf it's hard to imagine this area has such a dark cloud hovering over it. What was a dark place for some was a four day paradise for us. I hope as the years go by friendlier times shine on this beautiful place.
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BrandonBellrose
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Spooked Into Moving
While having a great experience camping Bastendorf Beach we started bumping into people telling us that overnighting this beach was dangerous. Not being from here and not quite knowing what the story was we decided to camp nearby at a county campground overlooking the very beach we were camping.
Bastendorf County Park sits on a bluff some 80 plus feet above the Bastendorf beach with panoramic view of the ships entering Coosbay jetty inlet and Bastendorf beach. The park offers clean hot showers, rustic tree covered camping sites, epic old fashioned kids play ground, and well manicured lawns. The staff members made the stay even more enjoyable, giving us a lot information about the area and what sites to see. The park staff informed us that the lower Bastendorf beach did have a crazy history but that they were working extensively with law enforcement to clean up the area.
By installing guard rails to limit camping, having a three day boondocking cap, local citizens, staffers, and police patrols, Bastendorf’s bad days were behind it.
While having a great experience camping Bastendorf Beach we started bumping into people telling us that overnighting this beach was dangerous. Not being from here and not quite knowing what the story was we decided to camp nearby at a county campground overlooking the very beach we were camping.
Bastendorf County Park sits on a bluff some 80 plus feet above the Bastendorf beach with panoramic view of the ships entering Coosbay jetty inlet and Bastendorf beach. The park offers clean hot showers, rustic tree covered camping sites, epic old fashioned kids play ground, and well manicured lawns. The staff members made the stay even more enjoyable, giving us a lot information about the area and what sites to see. The park staff informed us that the lower Bastendorf beach did have a crazy history but that they were working extensively with law enforcement to clean up the area.
By installing guard rails to limit camping, having a three day boondocking cap, local citizens, staffers, and police patrols, Bastendorf’s bad days were behind it.
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BrandonBellrose
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Getting Crab For Dinner
The staff at Bastendorf Park campground suggested that we go to Sunset Bay State Park Beach to get dinner. Now what they were referring to was for us to hike along the shore and get some Dungeons and Red Rock crab. Crab in Montana is hard to come by demanding a high price when you can. So the thought of just grabbing free crab for the taking was just to good to be true.
The staff at Bastendorf Park campground suggested that we go to Sunset Bay State Park Beach to get dinner. Now what they were referring to was for us to hike along the shore and get some Dungeons and Red Rock crab. Crab in Montana is hard to come by demanding a high price when you can. So the thought of just grabbing free crab for the taking was just to good to be true.
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BrandonBellrose
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While waiting for our new alternator at Cummings Northwest we were woken up (Sept,28 3am) by our 13yr old's labored breathing. We tried albuteral spray to clear her lungs so she could breathe with no apparent success. So it was time to do a emergency pack up and head to the nearest hospital. Her oxygen level bought her a bed @Sacred Heart Medical Center at RiverBend in Springfield, Oregon.
They are working hard to get her breathing again. I will update.
They are working hard to get her breathing again. I will update.
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silverstate55
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Oh no, we'll keep her in our prayers and thoughts, hope she recovers soon!!
BrandonBellrose
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Thanks a lot.
We thought by hiding on the Oregon Coast this summer missing the fires in Montana and central Oregon we would spare Alayah a asthma hospital visits. She caught a cold yesterday which in turn triggered the attack. It's always scary when she can't normalize her self with asthma recovery spray. Doctor just left the ER saying they might keep her a couple of days.
profo
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Batterychargers.*** got them they got 24volt 7 amp and not to expensive less 100 bucks!
also checkout charging chargers.*** they got the 10 amp 24 volts I use to charge and maintain my generators they are about 75 bucks work great!
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BrandonBellrose
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Thanks a lot.
Great call on this site. I found a cool looking 10amp also.
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Prayers for daughter!! I personally, like breathing! Has to be frightening.....sorry =(
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Praying for your daughter, hope she's back on her feet soon!
Thank you for posting y'alls adventures and experiences! I very much like following along!
Thank you for posting y'alls adventures and experiences! I very much like following along!
BrandonBellrose
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After getting four hours of sleep I wake up to find out that my son has also been admitted to hospital in ICU in critical condition. He having the same asthma issue but worse than Alayah. So now we have two on the same floor, it's going to be a tough week.��
