Let's just say that the day started off abnormal in a good way. The Black was up to 3700 cfs and the forcast called for temps in the 80's and sunshine all day. As soon as we put on the river the skies darkened and it began to rain - hard. Oh well, the water's still up and we were planning on getting wet anyway, right? So we headed down the river and enjoyed the unusually high top three and ran smoothly through Knife's Edge. When we got to the bottom the rain storm had increased to a full blown thunderstorm. In the interest of our customers' safety (and ours) we decided to book it to the dam portage and get out we this storm blew over. After a brief conversation with TAV back at base camp we decided to hole up for a few minutes because there was sunny weather headed our direction. So we waited for our release to splash over the dam in the pouring rain. And we waited, and waited, and waited. Half an hour after the release of 1700 cfs was supposed to be a go, we began to drop the rafts down to the head of Three Rocks. It was definitely not 1700, it was more in the neighborhood of 2300. And in a narrow gorge, that extra 5 or 6 hundred cubic feet of water can make a big difference. Naturally, as raft guides (what with our bizarre blood chemistry), we were really excited. Then the real storm hit. As more rafts came down through Three Rocks the lightening became more intense. I made the call to ditch the paddles on the shore (they have aluminum shafts) and we held our rafts in the eddy. A certain guide (whom shall remain nameless) apparently didn't see the horrific storm brewing over head and called a paddle-check, luckily we were able to shut him down before he coaxed his crew to raise their aluminum shafted lightening rods/paddles into the air during a thunderstorm. *Shesh* So there we were, standing on shore, holding rafts full of customers that were bored, cold, and soaked when I felt every muscle in my body tense and quiver for whole (and might I add: very long) second. "No, that can't be what I think it is." Right as I'm taking stock of the situation, Kyle, who was standing next to me, shouts, "I think I just got shocked!" That was enough validation for me. Rob suggests that we take everybody ashore and spread them out. So we do and have to wait out another section of this storm cell. Once we back on our way, we enjoy the 2300-2500 cfs in the gorge all the way down to Cruncher, where we all get some stout hits. As we line up to surf, the first couple of rafts get nice, burly surfs. Then the unthinkable happens: the dam turns off our release! Now the water is dropping fast (about two feet in 30 minutes) and our awesome surfs have dwindled to bath tub games (not the fun kind either). Now Rocket Ride is dry to the point that the Poop Chute is really just "Slight Case of Gas Chute." So we went from high water and sun, to high water and lightening, to low water and rain. It could not have been a more abnormal trip. Of course we get to the boat tow and all we hear is the engine sputtering. *Sheesh*
ps-the boat did in fact start.