A glorious day dawned with mostly clear, dark blue skies and the sun's warmth burning through the morning mist in the Laurel Mountains.  My destination is a well-known river for whitewater activities - the Lower Youghiogheny.  The Yough, as it's called, is one of the busiest rivers in the country for whitewater rafting.  There are multiple groups per day for each outfitter, and some of those groups have upwards of twenty rafts in one group.  Because the flow is controlled by the upstream dam built by the Army Corps of Engineers, it's also the one local river that has guaranteed water.  Since everything else was at summer levels (meaning too low to run) the Yough is just about the only destination.

We put on just around ten in the morning.  About four hundred yards upstream is Ohiopyle falls.  The water cascades over the eighteen-foot waterfall with great force, but for whitewater enthusiasts, it's an uncomplicated waterfall.  The landing is deep and soft, and the line is easy to read.  It's getting there that causes the problem; immediatley upstream of the falls lies a class IV rapid.  But, like all but one day a year, the falls was closed to kayakers.  So we didn't even bother thinking about it.

Entrance lay just downstream.  The opening act of the Lower Yough is a long, technical Class III rapid.  Most people consider Entrance to have two parts.  The Upper part is easier, with more open lines, deeper water, and plenty of play spots (if that's your thing).  The lower part starts with another great hole, and then enters a relatively shallow, technical rock garden that requires good boat control and the ability to read the river on the fly. 

The very top of Entrance starts with a low series of waves.  Some are surfable, so we started our day hitting that top wave and enjoying a gentle surf.  Donut Hole soon beckoned, and we heeded the call, sliding down river a bit to enjoy this most pleasant of distractions.  Donut Hole is so-called because it's the spot where many a boater have learned how to do flat spins in the kayak.  The hole has a parabolic shape, and induces a right-hand turn almost from the get go.  A good boater is rewarded with enjoyable spins, and if the water's deep enough, some vertical tricks to go along with it.  We were there for nearly an hour, talking with folks, spinning and enjoying the day.  Finally it was time to head downstream, and to the first decision at Entrance.  There's a rather wide rock - flat and wide, and almost always underwater - that creates two channels.  The right channel has bigger waves, and they're offset, but nothing too tremendously challenging.  The left side is much the same, and on that left side there's a small, powerful hole that people like to surf and then use for "pop ups."  Stick your bow into the water, and it'll get rejected forcefully, throwing the boat back and up out of the water consistently.  It's fun, but the short space requires a solid roll to play there.  We played for a bit, and then headed downstream again.  The next stretch is almost always run on the right side.  It begins with an ten-foot wide surfable hole, and immediatley behind it is another series of standing waves, and a couple of biggies.  The "fun" line is to work the eddies on the right and get set up to power ferry into the deepest, most powerful hole in that stretch of waves, surf if it you're capable, but mostly use it to shoot across the channel to another gigantic eddy on the left.  I was out of position to run the fun line, and considering that this was my first run on the Yough in at least a couple of years, and only my third run of the year total, I skipped it, and simply ran the meat.  It was fun, big and bouncy.

The far more challenging part of Entrance starts at Neimos hole.  Neimos is a split hole, with a narrow channel running between the two holes that leads into a big but dynamic staging eddy.  On hot summer days, this eddy is usually crammed with plastic boats, as the boaters wait in line to surf and play on the larger of the two Neimos holes.  And we did - surfing and playing and spinning a bit, although the hole was big and churny, and again there's not much recovery room if you screw up, and the one thing you absolutely do not want to do is run the lower part of Entrance either upside down or out of your boat.  It hurts.  But finally we moved on, and I used a couple of eddy turns at the top, then quick boat-scouting to pick my line through the rocks on the left side of the river before entering the calm area at the run out of Entrance. 

The Lower Yough has two commonly run sections.  All boaters have to run the Loop.  This stretch is a little longer than a mile, and has seven named rapids in it ranging from Class III+ to a single Class I fun spot.  The biggest vertical drop on the river is in this stretch.  After the Loop, the river widens and flattens for two or so miles into the stretch known as the Doldrums, before picking up in speed and intensity with Dimple and Swimmer's.  The full Lower Yough takes out at Bruner's Run.  The Loop ends at Railroad.  We were doing the Loop due to time constraints. 

The second drop on the Loop is Cucumber.  This is a solid Class III+ rapid, and is the biggest single drop on the entire Lower Yough.  It starts with a long and shallow, rock-filled mess before hitting the main drop.  There are a myriad of lines to take in this rapid, but most people start river left and then decide either to run the boof drop on the extreme left in front of Table Rock, run the far right and hit what a lot of people call "the eddy of the day," or simply run Route 66, which is the main line.  We ran Route 66.  At the top of Cucumber lies a mostly hidden pourover.  Rafts usually hit this thing with varying success; inexperienced rafters often go swimming here because the pourover's powerful enough to hold a boat for a moment, and the rafters momentum throws them out of the raft and into the current.  There's little danger here - the rapid is deep and swift, and most swimmers are recovered quickly.  Kayakers tend not to try to go over that pourover for various reasons, but the biggest is there's a good chance of taking a beat-down if you attempt it.  So when I was just at the one edge of the pourover, I think some choice words came from my mouth as I had to suddenly shift gears into far more powerful paddling.  I was grinning and laughing moments later, however - mostly at my own inability to pick a good line. 

The remaining rapids went by rather quickly.  My choice of lines got progressively more challenging as I felt more and more comfortable in my boat.  Flips and rolls were part of the day, along with cartwheels and bow stalls and stern squirts.  It was a perfect day - the kind that makes me recall why I so love the sport.  It has everything - action, fun, adrenaline, challenge and reward.  Taking a tight line and nailing it brings a smile, no matter what level the boater.  By the time we had concluded our run at Railroad, I was feeling the fatigue in my shoulders.  They get tired and sore first - the different action of paddling a whitewater kayak combined with old injuries do the trick.  But I was grateful for the day.  The deep blue skies and bright sun with a few puffy, white clouds painted the perfect sky overhead.  The deep, lush greens of the gorge was spectacular.  The cool, blue-green water was perfect, and the rapids were the usual Yough fare - fun!  All in all, it reminded me why I love the sport so much, and really whetted my appetite for getting out more.  That, and the fact that I obviously didn't forget how to do much!  Maybe I was a little rusty, and rust makes for some hesitation when playing, but other than that, I felt good. 

It was a perfect day.  And for that, I am tremendously thankful.