The Pigeon River Experience, Part 1:

I moved to Tennessee in order to run a new branch of the rafting company I then worked for. The power company that operated the dam above this river had recently been awarded a new permit, and, as part of that permit, had to begin scheduling releases into the Pigeon River from their Waterville Plant. Previously, Carolina Power & Light had operated this plant primarily for peak power generation. That is, when demand spiked or other power generating resources went off-line, this plant would quickly turn on to meet the company's needs, up to 109 mega-watts of electricity. The new permit still allowed this, but required the plant to negotiate with us, the outfitters, on 54 scheduled releases (times the plant would be guaranteed to operate, thus releasing water) during the summer and inside usable business hours. Additionally, the power company had to maintain and allow use of a put-in area on their property. All of this, we, the outfitters, accomplished without much difficulty.

That first year, the Pigeon had 54 five-hour releases, on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, from 12pm to 5pm. There were about 6 outfitters running at least part time on the river and, collectively, they took about 12,000 people down the class III+ run. Each trip takes about and hour on the water and about three hours from customer arrival until they pull out of the parking lot and most of our "guests" were pulled in from Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge.

The river itself parallels Interstate 40 where it crosses between North Carolina and Tennessee, and it brushes the northernmost edge of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park where the Appalachian Trail leads out northwards. The raft-able section begins at the confluence of Big Creek and the Pigeon River, immediately below the Waterville hydro-electric plant (the section of the Pigeon River above the plant is known as the Dry Gorge as the river's water is diverted into a tunnel about 12 miles above Waterville that feeds the hydro-electric plant, releasing back into the stream at our put-in). The Class III+ (medium sized and reasonably navigable) section extends downstream for about 5 miles. This was the focus of the rafting industry that first year.

My company, Wallywater, took about 3000 people that season. I had maybe 10 guides, mostly brand new recruits that I had to train. My assistant manager was an experienced Nantahala guide. I had, as my principal trip-leader, an experienced Nolichucky guide who was quite competent; and I was a Chattooga guide with three years experience, including as Training Coordinator for our Chattooga operations.

Teaching a person to guide a raft is not dissimilar to teaching them how to drive although there are marked differences. The main difference is that all guides have to be proficient in first-aid and, also, that all guides must be trained in swift-water rescue techniques. The on-river part is actually the easy part. It just takes practice, like driving. Everyone struggles with it at first, trying to manhandle the raft and reacting to the current or the river features. After a few trips, usually you see the light bulb go on over their heads and they start to figure it out. The key is to utilize the current rather than compete with it. Also important, in paddle rafting, is figuring out how and when to use your crew. There are certain people skills that cannot be taught and all guides also learn the entertainment aspect of guiding (jokes, stories, interpretive knowledge) that really help make the customer's experience better and lead to higher tips. Usually, a company gets all of this done in about two weeks and 10 trips down the river.

Or, at least, that's the story. Really, most first year guides struggle all season long. It helps if they get whitewater experience on rivers other than the primary one on which they work, but learning to read and run rivers proficiently is the accumulation of experience and is never entirely complete. Still, I don't feel like most people really "get it" until about their third season on the water. First-year guides learn the basics, like how to maneuver and how not to freak out when something unexpected is going down. Second-year guides come back brash and confident, feeling themselves masters of these skills, and generally learn that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing. They must develop the more delicate emotional and mental aspects, the "Zen" of the River Jedi, in order to truly become competent. By their third season, most guides have passed from novice to master and can then truly begin their relationship with whitewater.

To be clear, although I was in my fourth season as a guide, I had never seen the Pigeon River until one snowy day that first February when my boss and I made the trip up from Long Creek, SC, to Hartford, Tennessee, to see the new rafting center (formerly a group of display homes for a log home manufacturer) and make arrangements to remodel the buildings to suit our business needs. I remember well standing in the light snow at the future put-in watching the coffee-colored water from the power plant mix with the clear water from Big Creek and flow down into the first rapid, soon to be imaginatively named "Entrance". I kind of dreaded my choice at that moment.

I moved up there soon after and began setting up operations. My first actual trip on the water came soon after when a "rival" company came by saying the had a trip booked and needed me to guide it. I, of course, told them that I had never run the river, but that did not, because of my Chattooga experience (as well as Gauley, Nolichucky, and Ocoee) dissuade them; and I went. The river was a pretty straightforward run. The most dangerous rapid was soon to be named Lost Guide because of its propensity to eject guides if they hit a particular pour-over rock right in the main flow of the current. I went right over this pour-over, deliberately and much to the surprise of my co-workers that day, without incident, considering it similar to a much larger rapid on the Chattooga called Soc-em Dog. Over the following years, though, I saw the adverse consequences of running that route incorrectly many times, often resulting in the need for first-aid.

Regardless, the trip proceeded without incident and I got to see the river upon which I would be developing operations. I took one more trip to learn the river before I began training staff, riding with my friend Mesmer who had run the river a number of times.

This was the beginning of the Pigeon River, and of a trying and arewarding period in my life. More and better will follow.