Mosley Creek Day 4- The Portage

After a pleasant evening by the fire, the confidence level of the team was on the rise. Pat had suffered a brain tingling spill while portaging late in the day and was nearing shutdown. Grace saw him fall off an eight foot tall boulder with the initial impact occurring to the back of his head, the second occurring as his whole body landed in a frigid pool between the house sized boulders. John said the impact would have damn near killed one of us, but the young and resilient Mr. Keller carried on. After some good cheer at camp he was back and the group began to speculate about the final push to the Homathko River. We had paddled around six miles and now there was only the final ¾ mile to the end. John Kern mentioned a review our footage from the helicopter.


photo by Johnnie Kern

The review of the four remaining rapids did not support of current mood of confidence, in fact it sent us all to bed with thoughts of marginal, unprotected rock climbing in an un-passable box canyon with as many choked off sieves as rapids.

As soon as I awoke from my pleasant dreams I sat up in my cave camp, smashing my head into the overhanging rocks. The reality of the here and now struck home, literally. This day would require an enormous amount of effort, dexterity and drive, one way or another.

Utilizing the camera to scout one more time.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Johnnie Kern self-portrait. Expression says it all.

photo by Johnnie Kern

Upstream from our camp, notice the bluebird skies.

photo by Johnnie Kern

During the AM a variety of plans were discussed. We knew we had 6 rapids and at least 4 were completely unrunnable. We also knew that we could, with a tremendous amount of effort, cross the river and portage up the river right canyon wall, and walk to the base of the river via the ridgeline.

Here is Tommy scouting the first falls downstream, “It don’t look so good boys, you might be able to…nahh”

photo by Johnnie Kern

John and Daniel scouting the maelstrom below the saddle camp.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

After extensive scouting and deliberation we decided not to gamble on the river left portage and set out to go straight up the right wall.

The going was near vertical at times and required extensive boat hauling and teamwork.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

We reached one rock band of cliffs that could not be passed without a few “up and over” hauls. The crew was beaten and exhausted after schlepping our 100-pound kayaks 1000 vertical feet straight up.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Near the top of the ridge the snow became even deeper, one miss-step and a dropped boat would plummet back toward the river, an unacceptable situation.

Here is Riley ‘topping out’ after 3.5 hours of uphill portaging.

photo by Johnnie Kern

The view from the top was nothing short of spectacular. Making the whole trip worth it.

photo by Johnnie Kern

After another hour of slogging through the snow at the top of the ridge we got our first glance down into the mighty Homathko River.

photo by Johnnie Kern

Enjoying the view from a grove of yellow cedar.

photo by Johnnie Kern

Another shot of the Homathko gorges.

photo by Johnnie Kern

After nearly six hours of portaging we popped out of the snow and blow down to this amazing bench. The beauty of the panoramic view cannot be expressed in words, barely in pictures. It was a truly spiritual experience to be so deep amongst it and so far from civilization in such an inhospitable place. It could be said that life was created for moments like these. Surely a day in the woods I will never forget.

photo by Johnnie Kern


With only 30 minutes of daylight remaining we were faced with the decision to sleep waterless on the bench or bushwhack our way the Tiedemann creek flood plain, down to our right. Although exhausted from hauling our kayaks through the snow and terrain we decided to push on.

photo by Johnnie Kern

Here is a shot of the mighty trifluence. Tiedemann creek to the left, Mosley in the closer crack to the viewers left and the Homathko in the distance flowing from left to right.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

We made our less-than-graceful final push straight off the bench and onto the Tiedemann flood plane, at last we were out of the snow, on flat ground and loving life.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

John Grace prepares the fire to ward off the extremely cold temps that were about to flush in from the heavens.

photo by Johnnie Kern

We were treated to some amazing alpen glow up an un-named glacier.

photo by Johnnie Kern


Dusk settling on the mountains around our camp. We went to bed, glad to be on the other side of the lower Mosley gorge, eagerly awaiting our push through the meat of the Homathko gorges.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Mosley Creek Day 3 The River

Mosley Creek Day 3- The River and Camp 1

After sitting on the cold, snow-laden gravel bar for nearly an hour, Mike returned with our boats, and to our dismay, his daughter, making more people present than seats in the Bell Long Ranger. We were now obligated to paddle the river, as there was not enough room to all pile in the helicopter and go home.

With the decision made for us, there was nothing left to do but drop in.

We paddled flats for a while in silent contemplation. We new what lay downstream from the flight, and things were going to get tough one way or another. For the moment we were all enjoying floating on the mythical Mosley Creek. Amazed that years of planning, weather and flow speculation and serious persistence had finally delivered us to the present moment. Now all we had to do was survive and our goal would be accomplished.

Here is a shot of the first rapid; you can see where the river changes from gravel bars to the gorge.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Riley and Daniel working through the warm up.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

A good look at the initial character of the river.

photo by Johnnie Kern

A downstream shot of the run-out of the first gorge.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

We soon realized that most of the rapids we took for easy class Five from the air were not that at all. The height of the drops, the complexity of the greyhound size boulders and the inherently dangerous character of the river combined to make the going tough and tenuous.

“Where do we go? Better yet, where did the river go?”

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Here is the group at the top of one of the cleaner drops.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Pat Keller pulling an artful wall grind over a dangerous hydraulic.

photo by Tommy Hilleke


John Grace and Pat in the runout of the same rapid. The stream morphology of Mosley Creek may be compared to North Carolina’s Linville Gorge or Colorado’s Black Canyon of the Gunnison, or that of Chile/Argentina’s Manso River. This company puts the Mosley in a class with some of the world’s most intimidating and dangerous whitewater.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Daniel protecting his fragile HD camera, Seattle-style.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

John Grace and Riley running another classic Mosley drop.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

The rapid typifies what one would find if they made the foolish mistake of returning to Mosley Creek; big ledges and big holes with bigger trees protruding from even bigger sieves and potholes. AWESOME!

photo by Johnnie Kern

Daniel finishing out the above cataract.

photo by Johnnie Kern

Just below this gorge we experienced the most decisively dangerous moment of the trip. We scouted a complex boulder garden that was deemed un-runnable from the air due to several house size boulders blocking the entire flow of the river. Upon closer inspection a serpentine path wove its way through the madness of granite and whitewater. Riley and Daniel went first through the overhanging channel, somewhere mid rapid a powerful turn to the right is necessary to avoid a cave running perpendicular to the flow. Upon first inspection the cave appeared to be a stellar place to eddy out and enjoy being down amongst it. Second glance told a different story. The entire cave boulder was undercut and a good portion of the river was flowing UNDER the downstream wall of the cave. For those of you who have paddled the mighty Russell Fork Gorge in Kentucky, imagine the ’16 Stitches’ rock in maze rapid.

Here is John Grace pulling out after "Pat's Rapid". Notice Mr. Keller standing on top of the large boulder and the excessive flow pouring out from underneath its entire length.

photo by Johnnie Kern

Pat was third and heeded the sirens call, catching the eddy in the cave. He soon realized the error of his ways and decisively fought the flow sucking him under the downstream wall. Pat fought and made his way to a pile of boulders in the back of the cave and pulled himself up on the shore. Pat was then forced to climb up a vertical cave chimney to assess the situation. He was stuck on the river left/middle and none of team could help him out. We felt a sense of helplessness and could only offer moral support. The big problem was the rapid just below, and Pats proximity to the lead in. He was forced to seal launch over 15 feet, land in a micro eddy and then make a near-impossible upstream ferry to avoid running said rapid of destruction.

John Kern and Daniel re-entering the river after Pat's talented aversion of disaster.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

John Grace in the run-out of the same gorge.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Grace in the bottom of one of the more serious and complex cataracts of the trip.

photo by Johnnie Kern


Tommy Hilleke, deep in the meat of the run. The expression tells it all.

photo by Johnnie Kern

We finally reached the point in the gorge from which we scouted Mosley in 2003. Way less water and a whole pile of logs and sieves and undercuts, Not good.

photo by Johnnie Kern

The top of the rapid from "Amongst IT".

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Beaten and exahusted we began scouting for a bit of flat land, any flat land.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Finding a somewhat acceptable bench, 40 feet of the river, we made camp in the snow. A few random sleep spots were found, including an overhanging cave that provided shelter from the falling snow.

photo by Tommy Hilleke


photo by Tommy Hilleke

The view from the cave at Mosley camp 1.

photo by Johnnie Kern

Mosley Creek Day 3- The Flight

We awoke at 630 am to still air and no fresh snow. The weight of our plan was palatable in the air of the cabin. Nervous laughter chattered from room to room as battle gear was donned. Gore-tex dry suits with full-body fleece “union suits’, wool socks all that shit.
We met Mike at the Hanger and loaded our boats in the haul net.


photo by Johnnie Kern

Mike King and John Grace discussing the plan for the upcoming flight.

photo by Johnnie Kern

Packing last nights sleeping gear.

photo by Johnnie Kern

Final flight check.

photo by Johnnie Kern

The team ready for action.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

View from the ground.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

The crew headed to the coast for scout and potential drop off at Mosley Creek.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

The upper Mosley Creek; “as low as she gets”, says Grandma King.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Approaching the gorge, snow on the banks.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

The mighty Mosley Creek.

photo by Tommy Hilleke


Pat Keller looking down on the large glacier dropping into the upper Mosley Creek. The huge chunk of blue was one of the most spectacular riverside ice flows any of us had ever seen, let alone paddled past.


photo by Tommy Hilleke

A bird’s eye view of a place that later turned ominous.

photo by Johnnie Kern

A concerned look for a concerning situation in a concerning location.

photo by Johnnie Kern

Mike King and Johnnie Kern discussing logistics in case something goes awry.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Mike taking off headed back to the heli port to pick up our kayaks.

photo by Johnnie Kern

A long lonely and introspective wait. We were all wondering what we would have to do to convince the others we should get back in the bird and go home.

photo by Tommy Hilleke

Mike delivering our boats from the interior. Serious reality check.

photo by Tommy Hilleke



photo by Johnnie Kern


photo by Tommy Hilleke

The team headed into the depths of Mosley Creek. 36 degrees Fahrenheit, 6 inches of snow and about 900 CFS, perfect.

photo by Tommy Hilleke