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ELFs on the Ark

How Low Can You Go And Still Float Your Boat?

By Larry Rice

Located roughly 125 miles southwest of Denver, the Upper Arkansas valley is mostly ranch and farm land, largely undeveloped and sandwiched between the magnificent Sawatch Range to the west - the mightiest of all the Rocky Mountain ranges, with 15 summits of 14,000-feet or higher - and the Mosquito Range to the east, not as lofty, but still with several peaks topping 13,000 feet. Slicing through this high mountain basin is the Arkansas River, the longest river in Colorado and one of the most popular whitewater boating runs in the United States.

Popular, that is, until the river drops to creeky levels as late summer slips into autumn and winter. That's the time-as long as the water is liquid and not frozen hard--when a few of my diehard buds and I don drysuits and slither into our tiny, plastic whitewater canoes for boney, tight-lined, challenging, and always wildly fun ELF (Extremely Low Flow) runs.

In the Upper Ark Valley there's a lot of off-season ELF boating from which to choose. Between the Numbers section above Buena Vista to the Royal Gorge above Ca�on City, elevations range from 8,580 to 5,335 feet. On the same day, there could be a blizzard blowing up in Buena Vista, while it's bike-riding weather in Salida and points downstream.

ELF boating typically comes to an end in mid- to-late May. After a string of warm days and nights, snowmelt runoff can turn the Arkansas into a raging, wild torrent. On June 28, 2009, for example, the river's flow peaked at 3,670 cubic feet per second (cfs). The Arkansas Headwaters Recreation Area, with headquarters in Salida, issued high water advisories. Commercial rafting operations were temporarily halted on several sections of the river.

By contrast, when the Ark falls below 400 cfs in late summer, and most assuredly below 200 cfs, we ELF paddlers are virtually assured to have the beautiful, hidden chasms to ourselves. The hordes of sunburnt, hyped-up, turista rafters are long gone by now. The only human traffic left on the river are a few fishers who always seem startled to encounter a small band of boaters wiggling through the same boulder gardens in whose shadows hide the elusive brown and rainbow trout they seek.

Previously, our team's lowest-level-paddle stood at 150 cfs, a trickle by any accounts, but still runnable, with clean, slotlike, and very techy lines. But on Halloween day, 2009, on the heels of an early two-foot snowfall that blanketed the Buena Vista area, a die-hard friend and I explored the limits to how low we could go and still float our open boats.

We caught the Numbers - which has been called "the standard class IV in the state" - at a ridiculously low 135 cfs. Just to see if it could be done. And though we took more rock hits than ever before, we did manage to bump ?n grind our way down this renowned, six-mile stretch, which, at this boneyard level, we rated a solid Class II+ with several Class III mystery moves through what my friend termed "amazing mazes."

Sure, we got stuck a couple of times while rock-dodging. Sure, we knew that anyone who saw us would think we were insane. But the wackiness was all part of the allure. Weaving through the bouldery slalom course, with deep, unblemished snow blanketing the riverside boulders and mantling the surrounding high peaks, only served to remind us how lucky we were, wacko or not.

Residing in Buena Vista, Colo., LARRY RICE is a contributing editor for Canoe & Kayak magazine. Somehow, over the years, he has managed to paddle a canoe on all seven continents.