DISTRACTIONS The Legend of South Canyon

The eddy was eerily silent. Memories, almost tangible in my mind, came sweeping to the forefront of my conscience. There were days not so far past when boats would line up at this very spot by the dozen, all jockeying for a turn to surf one of the Colorado River’s best play waves. The flow was 3,500 cfs. Three or four years ago this exact level would have brought kayakers from across the state.

South Canyon was once a king among surf waves. In the 1990s during the era of longer boats, you could sit on the wave for hours, gliding and carving across its dynamic face. As boats shortened with the coming of the new millennium, Southy (as it was affectionately referred) was the perfect place for dizzying flat spins and roundhouses. As kayaks became even shorter, we found that South Canyon was the perfect place to learn the new aerial tricks, blunts and helixes.

South Canyon’s golden age of freestyle pre-eminence lasted well over a decade. It was common for the wave, with its small window for good surfing, to be in for only a few days as flows came up and receded. South Canyon days were treated as special holidays, well worth a sick day from work or unexcused absence from school. We spent countless hours on those holidays trying and perfecting the latest tricks: right blunt, left bunt, helix, flip turn. But now, just a few short years later, the eddy had fallen silent. No cheers of glee. No eddyline chatter. No camera clicks or excited dogs barking. Just a lonely silence. What had happened?

In 2008 the Glenwood Springs Whitewater Park was constructed in West Glenwood. Although we didn’t yet know it, this was the beginning of the end for the Age of South Canyon. As the levels that summer spiked to near ten-year records, we were delighted to discover that our new wave—the product of over ten years of hard work—only got better as the water came up. Above 10,000 cfs the whitewater park formed something unprecedented in Colorado: a wide, fast, tall, and bouncy big water surf spot. The new wave not only overshadowed South Canyon but anything else in the state. It was consistent, easy to access, and allowed a variety of tricks with the ability to easy link them without washing out.

When the river reached that critical window the first season, the boating crowd was divided between the new whitewater park and old Southy. Some paddlers still clung to the old hero. But highwater in 2010 and again in 2011 (the latter reaching a 27-year high of 27,000 cfs) altered South Canyon forever. No longer did the wave hold its classic shape. The death of the King was complete.    

Now, as age and two decades of experience have begun to catch up with me, it has become easy to slip into the “you should have been there when…” rhetoric of the old timers. But sitting in the eddy at South Canyon at 3,500 cfs, remembering when this exact level would have seen the parking lot three-cars deep with excited boaters, it was hard to fight off the memories and turn to those too young or too new to the sport and start to talk about what used to be.