Bellingham Whitewater

Exploring Ross Lake Part 2: Little Beaver Creek

(A long-overdue sequel to the Ross Lake Expedition)

After getting back from a paddling trip in Alaska, I received a call from Ryan Bradley, who declared that he had a case of “Little Beaver Fever”. I knew exactly what Ryan meant by this, since Chris Tretwold and I had recently returned from the first reconnaissance trip to scope out Little Beaver Creek.

With three weeks left in July, we figured this was our window to get an ample-enough flow before the creek dropped out.

We rallied Ethan Smith before he left for Portland. With a trio of boaters and a 25-foot fishing boat, we were off to the north end of Ross Lake and the rarely if ever run Little Beaver Creek.

One month earlier, Chris Tretwold and I had explored Lightning Creek via sea kayak. This time we had the luxury and also the hassle of a twenty five foot fishing boat with 250 horsepower. The logistics proved to be a bit worrisome once we reached Hozomeen and realized we had suffered a flat tire on the boat trailer.

With the better part of the tour ahead of us, we ignored fixing the flat at the parking lot, deciding it would be easier to fix it when we got back and without the-two ton fishing boat on the trailer. We loaded all of our gear on the boat, and Ryan, Ethan, and I jetted thirty knots per hour to our base camp.

Arriving at Little Beaver Campground, we all agreed the boat was the ideal transport to get to the take out. Then, out of the sky we heard the loud buzz of a single prop float plane as it roared to a landing on the lake.

The plane approached the dock, and a father taking his kids on a camping trip from Everett moored right next to us. Chatting a bit with the pilot he said it took them about 40 minutes to fly from Everett. Oh the possibilities! After fantasizing about the potential of a float plane, we got the mission underway.

We set up camp and hiked our boats to the put in before dark. Similar to Lightning Creek, the hike out of camp consisted of a series of switchbacks until we had gained 1000 feet, and then leveled off for a nice stride to the put in.

Scouting the creek from the trail was difficult; we were only able to get a couple solid glimpses of the creek to predict the nature of the rest of the run, though it looked favorable to scout from river level. The parts that we were able to see were bedrock with some assorted boulder gardens. Sweet!

After a five mile hike to the put in, we stashed our boats then returned to base camp for dinner, beer, and sleep.

The next morning we convened around bowls of oatmeal, discussed the day ahead, and prepared for our hike up to our boats.

Our hike was cool to start, but by the time we arrived at our boats it was seventy-five degrees and bluebird skies. The water levels that we observed from the bank seemed as amiable as the July weather! Levels appeared to be in the 400-500 cfs range.

The first two miles consisted of braided channels, and a few log jams. Some of the jams we portaged, others we managed to limbo under. After the first two miles we reached “The Beaver Tail�. This was the first significant rapid in the start of the gorge.

This rapid consisted of a sloping ten foot slide, then a ramp that propelled us to the top of an eight-foot slide into a beautiful pool. The day was looking promising!

After the “Beaver Tail� the creek just seemed to get better as we descended. A couple of class IV+ rapids that required a bit of scouting led us to “Little Beaver Falls�.

(Ryan with a nice pull)

After scouting the clean twelve-foot boof, we ran our boats off the lip of this rapid with no hesitation. With smiles on our faces, we continued downstream to see what was ahead.

The sun continued to shine and the white water did not seem to stop. The “Beaver Whip� was a river-wide slide into a marginally sticky hole.

We easily blasted through the hole at the bottom. During a few river discussions we all agreed that with more water these drops would pack a bit more punch.

After such great fortune with the rapids upstream, our luck changed when we got to the “Beaver Lodge� a scary 18 foot waterfall with a nasty undercut on the left side.

(A view of the “Beaver Lodge” from a log)

The undercut was just large enough for a boat and passenger. Most of the outflow from the water fall surged directly into the pocket. Rather than take the chance in getting stuffed like a corpse in a coffin. We decided to do a complex portage, rigging a pulley system for our boats around the cliff wall to the left.

Getting past this crux was a relief, but we still had three quarters of a mile to go before we reached the placid waters of the lake. After the portage, the rapids continued in a beautiful bedrock gorge all the way to the lake with great read-and-run drops, bordering on class IV to V in difficulty.

(Ethan lining up)

Arriving at base camp ahead of schedule, we decided to motor around the lake and scout a few other drainages of interest. The other creeks revealed some potential but as predicted, access was far less than desirable.

With our trip coming to an end, and with Ethan having an important meeting on Monday, we headed back to Hozomeen to deal with the limping trailer.

After installing the spare we noticed one slight problem: The spare was about three sizes smaller than its sister tire. We only had one choice and that was to try driving on it and see what happened.

Eight miles down the 30 mile washboard road, we blew not one, but two more tires. With the only spare shredded, we were stuck.

We managed to get the trailer jacked up, and unhitched the boat to allow the truck the freedom to get some new tires. Unfortunately, it was Sunday and no tire shops were open until Monday. Our only choice was to wait until morning and deal with the tire situation then.

Luckily the liquor store was not closed! We bought a bottle of Black Velvet, returned to the boat, hunkered down in the cabin to avoid the impending rainfall, and drank a little whisky!

The following morning we dealt with the blown tires, re-attached the trailer and headed back to the states.