Miss, or don’t have time to listen to, the Tales from the Cripps podcast with legendary kayaker Aniol Serrasolses?
Fear not. Below, we bring it to you in full, as interviewed by host Kevin Cripps.
Intro
Over the last decade, Aniol Serrasolses has proven to be one of the best kayakers in the world. He’s won races like the North Fork Championship on the Payette, the Sickline event in Austria, and has accomplished first descents across the world, running outrageously huge drops with mind-blowing style and ease. He’s a Red Bull athlete who you might have seen in videos paddling 60-foot waterfalls off a glacier into the ocean, sliding down in his kayak from the top of a snow-capped volcano, or doing a first descent down a remote and epic river in Patagonia. He’s brought downstream freestyle tricks to another level. He’s largely credited with inventing the Cobra Flip. His solo high-water Stikine run will surely go down as one of the greatest accomplishments in whitewater paddling. He and his brother run a program to help introduce underprivileged kids to kayaking, as well as training and instructional and paddling trips that are open to all. And I’m exceptionally excited and grateful to have him on the show today.
Aniol Serrasolses, welcome to the show. What are you up to here in the US?
Yeah, man, of course. You know, just here for the season, kind of late this season, but I’ve had a big surgery in my nose from a previous accident, so I’ve just been on demand. I’ve just been healing for the last few months. I’m going to get the last remainings of water and am just happy to be here.
You showed me the picture of your injury to your nose. That looked burly. I’m glad you’re doing better.
Yeah, it was a big cut. It’s from last May. I was doing some freestyle off Spirit Falls. I landed one of those Cobra flips, but I kind of landed on my side and the paddle came back and the blade just cut me open. So lots of stitches and super glue. And basically, I haven’t been able to breathe for a year, so getting the surgery was awesome. Now I’m good.
Well, I’m glad you’re here to share some stories. Tell us a little bit about what you’ve been up to lately:
Right before COVID, I bought a place down in the Futa. I was just building my cabin, and then COVID came and messed everything up. So, I just stayed for a while, and was having some troubles getting into the US. So, I took a break for a few years. I mostly made my base there, and it’s been great. I just have this epic place at the takeout of the Futa. I do a lot of work on construction, building my campground and cabin, and go on missions here and there.Patagonia is so sick. You can do many sports, the kayaking is so good, and the season is really long throughout Chile. It’s such a long country that you get many little seasons within the season. It’s pretty quiet, sometimes almost too quiet, but it’s peaceful, it’s good quality of life, and epic kayaking. I love that valley. It always feels like home every time I’m away. I’m stoked to be where I am now, but always on the back of my mind, I’m like, okay, it’s going to be good going back.
Let’s talk a little bit about your relationship with the Stikine, and how you got introduced to it.
It’s one of those places on Earth that are just so special. I think my first time in there was in 2014. Since then, I’ve been looking forward to go back as often as possible. I’ve been in the canyon for 43 laps, over 100 days in the gorge. It’s such a unique place. I really love spending some part of my summer there, just kayaking every day, seeing places, going on hikes, spending time in there and getting to explore and progress my kayaking. It’s been such a good teacher for me about my kayaking, but also a teacher on how I want to live my life, what I really like to do, what am I made of. Every lap, by the time I’m out of there, I feel like I’ve become a better version of myself in the water and know myself more. It’s been such a trip, such a beautiful journey, just knowing the place and getting so much out of it. It’s my favorite place.
What about it gives you that self-reflection?
It’s just the remoteness, the solitude. When you go in there by yourself, there’s a process behind it of almost forcing yourself to go, because there’s always the risk factor of you’re dropping into a Class V river, but you’re doing it by yourself. So that adds up the level of risk, obviously.So, you need to do a lot of convincing within yourself to actually want to be there, to do it in a smart, efficient, perfect way, no mistakes allowed. But the things you get out of that are very powerful. I love the experience of sleeping in the middle of that gorge on the side of the canyon, and just being there and listening to the river and feeling so alone but so alive. It’s hard to explain in a way. It’s something you just have to live through to actually understand fully. And it’s great to go in there with your friends, too. It’s just a different trip. I love them both. To me, it’s just about spending time in there and the lessons that I get out of it.
On the other side of that peacefulness and reflection, I know you and Benny Marr tried to push the limits a bit and see how fast can you run it? Can you do more than one lap in a day?
I guess it’s just like climbers. They had The Nose and El Cap and they try things there. It was sort of our playground too. At some point, it’s not just about kayaking down, but trying to push yourself on how fast can we do it, how high can we do it. It’s part of all of us athletes, just striving for more. And you’re in the process of becoming a better kayaker and a better version. So obviously, with all that push, mistakes happen. And I’ve had my fair share of beat downs and just one swim, but nasty enough to really think about it for the rest of my life and focus on not having to go through that again. But it’s all about learning.
I won’t make you retell that swim story on the Stikine because you did it on the Hammer Factor, which is awesome.
Yeah. Big shout out to Benny Marr for picking up my kayak. And thank you to my parents for signing me up for water polo when I was a kid. I didn’t really like it at the time, but it’s become so helpful with my kayaking. All my swims are much better because of it. It’s interesting. I see a lot of kayakers that have a strong swimming background. It just makes you feel more comfortable and confident in the water. I think it’s very important, actually, not just to swim well, but also the relaxed state.
It’s important to slow your heartbeat down and just stay calm when everything is super chaotic. Do you still do those practices?
Yeah, every time I’m swimming or I’m just somewhere with water, always take a second, and say all right, how long can I survive under water? And it’s mostly just relax, relax, relax. Just with a little bit of training anyone can stay three minutes under water, no problem. Obviously, for us, if you’re coming out of a bad hole and you’re already tired, it’s not as easy, and you still have to move to be able to get out of there and swim back to shore. But yeah, it’s something we should train way more.
I feel like you ought to be giving a shout out to Watershed, too, because wasn’t it part of that story?
Yeah, I’d love that to be part. I was on Pass or Fail. Maybe it was lap number six or seven from the season. We’d been doing it a lot without portages. That was 2016, the season of Never Portage. So, running Site Zed every time, we were really pushing it. And the water level got lower. So suddenly there was a hole in Pass or Fail that normally was no big deal, and that one time I overboofed and I got stuck. I was fighting for a long time to get out. Benny was getting out of his boat to get me a rope, but I decided to swim before I got too tired. I managed to get to shore on the left bank, but everything was gone and Benny just followed it.
I was stuck by myself in a place that you really have no escape. And I didn’t want to climb because it was hard climbing, and I was on the wrong side of the river. But I did have my dry bag, just the classic mid-sized Watershed. So I just thought, okay, let’s fill this thing up with air, you’re just going to go swimming, maybe get all the way to Site Z, and then you can get out there. But to get there, there’s a lot of rapids, you got Wasson’s Hole, you got some unnamed rapids that are big. But at the time, I knew it so well that I thought I could make it swimming, just being in the right place, going under holes and holding my breath well. So I did. I ran Wasson’s on the left line, which is the biggest, but also the safest because you stay away from the walls. There are some eddies in there that if you get stuck swimming, you will not be able to swim out of them. You can barely kayak out of them because they are so powerful. And believe it or not, I did good swimming. I went under holes and stayed in the main flow, and avoided the walls. Suddenly I feel like I went maybe a kilometer or two. I found Benny and he had my boat and we had a breakdown and just kept going. We took a little break at Site Zed where we met some friends and kept going through the afternoon. I ran Site Zed with a breakdown 190 paddle. It was just a different mentality back then. Just so wild thinking back about it. Now I’m like, I probably wouldn’t do that.
But at the time, it felt like a risky but good choice because we didn’t have InReach back then. It was, we get in here, we deal with whatever situation. Now a lot of people rely on the devices, and it’s not really that good either. It’s good to have it. You should have it, but it’s not that you can rely on it to get your ass out of any situation. You need to be able to deal with it with your team. We did the best we could, but it was a crazy, crazy experience. That was in 2016. The high water season was in 2018.
Let’s talk a little bit about that trip…what led up to it?
It felt like a build-up process. That was my first solo lap at the highest water level, and I set the fastest time at the time. Everything just came together on that one day. It was early in the season, maybe July, and I went with a couple of friends. We did two laps at the 400s and woke up to a perfectly sunny morning. The river was reading at 620 or so, and I thought, this is the perfect opportunity. I’d done it before, so I felt ready. I’d trained, checked that everything was good, and now the conditions were perfect—great weather, high water, but not too high. It all felt right for that one day. My friend didn’t want to go, so I told him I’d hopefully be back later that day, and I set out on my own. I wasn’t planning a record descent or anything—I just wanted a solid first solo run at high flow. I reminded myself to take it easy. But the river was moving faster than ever. Even without trying, I was faster than I’d ever been. It was epic. I did have to portage Site Z, but that was the only section I had to skip. Everything else went really well. I stopped briefly at Site Z to make a paddle leash because earlier, I’d almost lost my paddle. I cut some back band off my Waka, the elastic, something I could put around my hand and around the paddle. And it was good enough for that time. It really gives you security, one thing less you got to think about. That’s one of the things that worries me most about solo kayaking. A small mistake like losing your paddle can cost you your life.
Makes a lot of sense for a run like that, yeah.
When I’m soloing and pushing myself on crazy runs, it’s not just about what you can control—it’s the things you can’t. Things like your skirt blowing up, your paddle breaking, or it slipping out of your hands. If you can reduce the risk of any of those, like by paddling with a leash, it’s a huge relief. It’s one less thing to worry about. When you’re solo, you’re completely dependent on your own decisions, quick thinking, skills, and knowledge of the run. But there’s always something unpredictable, and the fewer of those unknowns you face, the better.
When you decided to put on for that run, was there any hesitation there?
Yeah, obviously, there was hesitation. It was my first time. It was something that I wanted to do for a long time. But I didn’t rush it. That was my 27th lap, I was 27 years old, so I just thought, I’m ready.
Did you have that swim in the back of your mind? Did you think, “If this happens without Benny or somebody there, I’m screwed…”?
Yeah, for sure. That swim was helpful, but I’ve always had respect for that river. It wasn’t just because of that swim—I’ve always known what could happen and what’s at stake. I’ve seen people die. I’ve had friends die. It’s always in the back of your mind. Living it yourself, though, definitely makes it more real. But I felt ready. It was something I really wanted to do. I didn’t tell anyone, just the friend who was there. If you start sending messages or talking to family, they obviously don’t like it. It adds pressure. You start thinking, I can’t mess this up. The less I have to think about, the more I can focus on what I’m doing.
That was the first time you soloed the Stikine?
That was the first time. And since then, I’ve done it many more times. Last season, for instance, I did more solos than laps with people. It’s not something that I really look for, but at some point, when I see that the season’s on, I go even with friends or without. And this year, I was mostly there by myself. It’s pretty crazy just being there on your own for five, six laps. It’s intense. At some point, it’s way more tiring to paddle by yourself. There’s always that pressure of no mistakes. But it also makes you so much stronger. That mindset allows you to control your nerves and your mind and to really know yourself. You dig deep and you ask many questions.
Did you have any trouble on that first high water lap?
No, it actually flowed really well. It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be, even though some parts were really boily. One rapid that stands out is Rowdy Flat Water. It’s usually pretty basic and not that difficult, despite the name. It’s just tight, with a pinch in the river and a lot of boils. But at those flows, it gets messy. Once you’re through that, though, you hit the real challenges: Wall Two, Scissors, and The Hole That Ate Chicago. If you swim on any of those, you’re swimming the whole section—about a couple of miles of solid Class V. You might survive, but you’re most likely in serious trouble. And with the gorge being so narrow, getting out isn’t easy.
Do you think you had a heightened focus because you were by yourself?
Yeah, the solo kayaking definitely allows you to get on a different state of concentration. You are just focusing on yourself. You just focus on what’s ahead. And you are not looking back. There’s no distractions. There’s no talking.
There’s no relying on anybody. You are in there by yourself, and what you do means everything. So you can’t be thinking of negative thoughts or this and that. It’s a one-man team, and you got to believe in yourself and stay focused and paddle at the highest level. And normally, the best I ever paddle is by myself, because the river demands it. It’s not like something I recommend. I can’t even justify it, but it’s great until you mess up and something happens, and then you’re an idiot. But that’s extreme sports. It’s always like that.
Before Alex Honnold free-soloed El Cap, he practiced for years and years, rehearsing moves to prepare. And he had all these people watching and anticipating it. For you, you did it just for yourself, and the river is constantly changing, with variables you can’t really control. Both of which raise it to a different level of risk, but also accomplishment?
They’re different sports. The one thing is that you do have second chances with kayaking a lot of times. All these wing-suiters and solo climbers, when they fall, it’s done. But they do have a lot of control on routes that are maybe not that hard. Like Alex, I’m sure he knew he could do those moves. He can mess up, but you can get to a state that you’re pretty confident. With kayaking, I can control to a certain point. If I was going into Site Z, I’m not sure I’m going to get it eight times out of ten. I’ll probably swim one of those.
How do you deal with fear and risk? What’s your calculus when you see a big drop?
It’s been a forever changing process. The person I was when I was 18, is not who I am today. I’ve lived through a lot. I’ve had injuries. I’ve had close calls. And obviously, the risk has always been there. But the skills I have now and the knowledge is so much better than what I had back in the day. So, I don’t think I wasn’t feeling fear back then, but I was more stupid. I didn’t have the experience, and I made bad calls, just like we all do. Some are lucky enough to survive and progress and learn from them. And other people on their first mistake, they die. Call it destiny, call it luck, call it skills, I think it’s a mix of everything. It is a very forgiving sport, till it’s not. So you have to be so careful out there.
I’ve met younger paddlers and thought, “How is this kid so chill with the stuff he’s doing?” It’s almost like they were too chill….
Yeah, don’t get excited and keep it calm. But you can’t be chill about getting trashed on a Class V continually. Me, I like that fear. It keeps me concentrated on what I’m doing. And it doesn’t really block me. It’s all about not getting into panic. Just let that fear come in. Really evaluate where you’re at, the consequences of what you’re about to run, how to run safety properly, and just one rapid at a time. And make good calls, get out of there good, and take care of your team.
Can you tell me about a drop that you were particularly concerned about, what that process was in your mind?
Well, with any big firsts, there are a lot of unknowns. Nobody’s done it. There are heavy consequences. There are the unknowns of: Is it really deep? Is it perfect? Am I not seeing something that I should? You’re just imagining something and then trying with your life. So, there’s a lot at stake, it’s your body, it’s your future. So those ones are especially nerve-racking. When somebody’s done it, you’ve got that knowledge. You can see their line. You can correct some mistakes that they made and improve. But firsts, those are always very special.
Tell us about the Rio Blanco first D that you did, where you got helicoptered up the canyon. It sounded like there were some big drops in there, and you almost got seriously injured. What are you thinking when you’re on a mission like that?
Well, it’s those projects that took so much effort to get there. It’s something you’ve been dreaming for years. It’s most likely the one chance you’re going to get to be on that place and to run as much as possible. And there’s a rock in the left side of the landing, but you think you can avoid it. You make your mind, and you have a plan. But suddenly you don’t get as far right as you want, you crash against the rock, and I almost broke my arm there. But it’s like those little mistakes that can cost you. I was lucky that I just walked away with a sore forearm, I didn’t break a bone, and I could keep on kayaking. It’s just so special to be on a first D and getting to discover a new river that nobody’s ever paddled. And you definitely want to push it out there. It’s once in a lifetime.
Do you ever feel any outside pressure in those situations that you have sponsors, people who spend a bunch of money to get you there?
Not that much. I think people think it’s worse than what it is. I’m not going to get kicked out because I didn’t run the 200-foot waterfall. It’s more of a pressure of stay active, do your job—which is promoting the brands you work for—do cool missions, stay sharp out there, and come up with good ideas. I don’t think it’s a very hard job at all. I’ve been doing it for a while now, and I just feel like the luckiest person out there. But obviously, you got to stay active, and sometimes it’s hard to be out there all the time and scaring yourself, pushing yourself, getting some injuries here and there. That’s the hard part.
It sounds like a lot of your reasons to push are I only live once, and I want to feel the intensity of life. And when I feel good about my ability, I want to see what I can do with it…
Yeah, in the end, it’s pretty simple. If you love something and you base your life on doing that thing, it’s not an effort. I actually want to be there and doing those things. It’s what makes me feel the most alive and happy. And why wouldn’t I? When you have the skills and the opportunity to do it, why wouldn’t I be in the Stikine by myself and doing all these crazy things and experiences that make me so happy? I’d be a fool not to use the opportunity. I feel like it’s living life on a different plane. It was so random that I got into kayaking. I could have lived a completely different life, but I just happened to be born in a place that there were some old kayakers. Out of all Catalonia, the driest place out there, my parents decided to move to that little village. I got lucky that we went riding bikes at school, my brother wanted to try one day after seeing these kayakers, and we got into it. Life is random, and I definitely used the opportunity that I had.
Can you share that story of your incident in Mexico on the lower Jalacingo?
It was a big screw up. It’s not something I’m very proud of, but that shows that we all learn, we all grow, and what we do when we are young doesn’t really mean that’s all we are.That was the experience that we learned so much from. It was on the lower Jalacingo, a group of six, just finishing off a nice week of kayaking in Mexico, and that was our first time on the lower. None of us knew the run. We thought Lucky Carracher, our friend who was leading, did, but in the end he did not. He was leading, we were running the bottom stuff, past all the big waterfalls, and we thought, “Okay, this is chill till the confluence with the Alseseca.” We got to a place where just you can see banana fields and just easy Class II-III rapids, and all of them just kept going. My friend Juanito and I stopped in an eddy and were playing with our GoPros, and next thing we know, its’ “Where did everyone go?”
They just kept on going. So, I was like, “Okay, I guess it’s good.” I peeled into the current, floated down some Class III, and then realized there weren’t any eddies, and there was something down there. I started to look for eddies to stop, but there weren’t any. I think, “Well, they must know,” so it must be a chill drop. They all went, and there’s no stopping. So I get closer to something that looks like the river is going to drop, and I’m like, “Oh, my, God, I should’ve stopped here.
Suddenly I see a huge drop, and I’m like, “Oh, no, this is a portage.” It all happened within seconds.
I saw the huge wall in front of me, and what looked like a large waterfall. I lined it up, threw my paddle in the air, tucked, braced for impact, and my last thought was, “You really messed up. You’re dead. You’re going to land on rocks,” because that’s the last thing I saw. Then I got very tight, into a nice position for landing. And suddenly, boom, soft impact. I didn’t feel anything. I was expecting death. So I was like, “OK, that wasn’t that bad.” I did a hand roll, and found myself on this cauldron, super boily and dark. I saw my friend Juanito landing right next to me as I went backwards into another drop with no paddle.
I got messed around a little bit, rolled up again, and found myself in this deep gorge, with four of my friends swimming. And Juanito was coming swimming as well. Everyone’s swimming and everything has gone downstream. And everyone has the craziest looks in their face. Lucky has a broken helmet, blood all over his face, broken shoulders, and everyone’s like, oh my, God! There’s no escape, and the only thing we can see is another waterfall. We’re in the middle of this gorge with super polished walls. We kind of took a second to assess the situation before doing anything. Buy everyone’s swimming and there’s no way to stand. There’s one rock in the river, and everyone’s fighting to stay on that little rock, and it can only hold one person at a time. And the water is cold. It’s Mexico, but it’s cold water.
So we got to move fast. And I grab a paddle, and I have to run the next drop, even though it looks like shit. I grabbed two ropes, I run the next one, and it’s really shitty. Definitely a portage. I smashed my hands against the wall, but somehow I make it. I was able to climb back up with the two ropes and put them two together. There’s nothing to make an anchor off, so I grabbed this little tree. And then one by one, slowly, we got them out. Lucky was almost unconscious and asking the weirdest questions. We all survived, some heavily injured, but from what it could have been, it was like it was nothing.
Basically, we ran a 90-footer blind. There was definitely a portage, one that no one’s ever thought of repeating again, because it looks really, really bad. I don’t know how we survived that, but we did.
So basically, the fact that you stayed in your boat might have been what saved the group.
Well, my friend Daniel had an implosion, but he was able to get back in his boat when we emptied it out.
But otherwise, everyone would have had to swim that last drop in order to get out. It wouldn’t have ended good. It was one drop that lands on another wall with a sketchy undercut on the left. You would never want to run that. But it was the last choice we had. Somebody’s got to do it. I was in the boat, so bad luck for me. But yeah, huge learning from that. After that one, we were so much more careful. It’s good to boat scout. You can’t scout every single rapid when you’re on a mission. Sometimes you just have to boat scout and move, because there’s thousands of rapids.But it’s got to be done in a smart way, and that was not. We all learned. I’ve never had that happen ever again.Don’t trust your friends as much either. Sometimes we do trust each other too much, and it’s not good. In kayaking, too, sometimes you end up trusting someone that you just met. Sometimes it can just be someone you don’t even really know, but they know the river, and you end up trusting them around these blind drops, blind corners.
Let’s talk a little bit about your relationship with Scott Lindgren. How did you first meet him and all that?
He was always such a legend and I was really inspired by him. We were paddling around Cali and I knew that he was going to try to kayak again, so I was like, “Why don’t we go on an upper Cherry Creek trip?” We were so stoked that he joined us. We had such a good time, just sharing stories. I love meeting older kayakers with different generations, hearing their perspectives and their legendary stories. I’m a fan.
He’s older than me for sure, but we had a really good connection, became friends instantly, and he’s been like this older mentor ever since. He’s got a lot of knowledge, not just on the kayaking. He’s been in the game forever, so he knows about everything. I really enjoy spending time with him. Tt was great that we could help in any way. He’s gone through a lot. Brain tumor, it’s a savage thing. He’s had surgery, and he’s been off for a few years without surgery, so I just hope that just stays like that. And sport, I think it’s been a huge part in keeping his health well. He’s very healthy, obviously.
He takes really good care of himself. And then getting to share the Indus with him, which was the last river that he was missing, from the four rivers that flow out of Mount Kailash. To be able to give him a little help with that, to be able to share that river with him, for me it was a dream. I am actually super thankful to him for that. I’ve done it three times now and it’s one of the greatest rivers in the world, like the Stikine.
You’re attracted to big water runs like that?
Yeah, especially now, as years have gone by. I used to be way more into waterfalls and creeky stuff, and now it’s all big water. I still enjoy creeks and waterfalls, but not as much. There’s always an impact, when everything flows, and you have a perfect line with a soft impact, everything makes sense, and it’s so great. But whenever a waterfall just feels like getting hit by a truck, it lasts a second and a half, and you drove two hours for it, you’re like, “What am I even doing? Is it even worth it?” When I can be on a mission for days, running the cleanest whitewater on an epic river, it’s no comparison. But it’s a young man’s sport, the waterfall game. I know it’s great. I’ve had my share. I still want to do some big ones, but I’m way more selective with it now.
Iceland. What an epic place. That’s where I would tell any young kayaker that wants to send it to go. There are some big ones and a lot of first D’s and epic stuff to be done. That’s a good location to go while you’re young.Kayaking is not like skiing where you can have very nice landings. You are always landing from vertical to dead flat, you know? You can get some super soft hits. But most impacts are randomly hard. Even when you have a good line, sometimes the boil is coming up and it hits you. And then when you land flat, it’s not nice.
The Tsangpo is one of the rivers we all dream about, but none of us had the skills to pull it off. If I went into that, that would not be my approach. It would be like small team, almost no cameras, move fast and efficiently self-support, if possible. But it’s the whole thing. Tibet being ruled by China, and they don’t want you there. Obviously, there’s a border with India, so that’s a zone that is very hard by itself, but also their plans for there, whether that be building the biggest dam in history or whatever, they don’t want tourists messing around in there. I’m not saying it’s over. I’ll try till I can, till I’m too old for it, but that’s my last big dream in kayaking. I’m not very certain that I’ll be able to do it, but might as well keep trying. Anything is possible. You might have to portage entire parts that are just impossible, but that’s within the plan. The kayaks are better. The equipment is lighter. The kayakers are better. It is the stoutest run, the most exposed, the deepest gorge. Everything about it is insanely epic.
Tell us about the Patagonia trip you did. Instead of the Triple Crown, you guys did the Quadruple Crown?
Yeah, it was such a good trip for people who understand. The Patagonia Triple Crown would be the same as Alaska’s Triple Crown of the Stikine, Alsek, and Susitna. That’s the big water Triple Crown up north. Down south we have the Baker, Bravo, and Pasqua. It’s three epic rivers. The Pasqua is one of the biggest rivers I’ve ever run, and it runs through a very exposed place, the middle of nowhere, with a big approach to get there. You got a super high-volume, whitewater within a gorge that’s no more than 20-feet wide. It’s the boiliest, whitewater that you’ll ever see.
Like the Indus or the Stikine or something?
It’s like way bigger than the Stikine in terms of the amount of water. But not as wide in many spots. So that creates the most insane, whitewater that you’ll ever see. I was paddling an OG, and I was getting back-endered on the easiest rapids. There’s a lot of rapids that you just got to go. There’s a section up top that you just walk all of it, because it’s impossible.
It’s about a mile of Class VII. The hole is the size of a stadium. There’s no way of surviving it. You just stand there and look at it, because that’s all you can do. And the weather is a big factor. This is Patagonia. You have high winds, and we had bad weather throughout the trip. We had to rush into it because we knew we had a lot of rain coming. We tried to do the hike in one afternoon, and then we had to paddle for a long time on a lake.
So we paddled through the night, and then in the morning we had high, next level winds. We could barely advance. By the time we got to the put in, we were already wasted. Back in the day, they used to fly in. You can also take a boat. But there’s this route going over the mountains, and that’s what we did. It works pretty good, and it’s self-support, so it was way cheaper. We put on at one, we were done by 6 p.m., and then we paddled through the night. But that was going fast.
And then the Baker, it’s an all-time classic. It’s one of my favorite big water rivers and an absolutely beautiful place. It’s roadside, so it’s a different style. The Bravo is more creeky, but you go through some very deep gorges. It’s a really cool place. We called it the Quad Crown because we added another one, the Mire, which people look at it and don’t think so much about it, but it’s great. It’s just as good as the Bravo for sure, with great whitewater. A lot of people don’t want to take the time to go and discover it and process the lines and learn it. But it’s an all-time great from Patagonia.
It looks like you’re using some drones to do some scouting on some of those?
Yeah, the drone scouting has become a very important part of expeditions. It almost feels like cheating because of what it allows you to do. You can be so much more efficient. It won’t paddle for you; you still have to run the whitewater. But it allows you to make better calls and saves time. And when doing crazy stuff like that, I’ll take any help I can get. The only real goal is to do it and get out alive and well, so why wouldn’t you use that technology? It lets me know what the water is doing, where to go. Ultimately, it gives you an advantage. Sometimes you will not be able to scout if you don’t have a drone. And you can’t scout miles at a time. So it’s not like you know everything.
It’s not as good as scouting face-to-face, but it gives you an idea on what’s coming. So you can make better calls ahead of time; like, “Hey, I should be on that left side, and from there we can walk.” Or you’ve got an idea. But you also have to be able to read it well, because sometimes you make mistakes because of the dron; you have to see it in the right exposure, or you see too much white and freak out, or think there’s a hole that you can’t pass. It takes a skill. I don’t use it every day, but on heavy missions, it is a tool I like to have.
What was your favorite river of those four?
I really liked the Pasqua, because I had been wanting to go there for so long. So that year, I teamed up with Benny Marr, Sven Laamler, my friend here in Salabat. So we had a super small, strong crew. It hasn’t been run very often. Ben and Nouria were one of the last ones to go there. Team Beer and then Evan Garcia and those guys tried, but they had very high water and they decided no to. Marion and her crew did it, but she took a nasty swim. Before then, like Robbie and those guys, that must have been a savage, savage expedition. I remember that by the time they got out, they were like, “I wouldn’t recommend anybody going there because it’s just nasty.” But things have gotten better. Our trip was different. We actually had a good time.
Any carnage on the trip?
There are like four main rapids. Everything else is just very boily…stout, boily, whitewater, and boogie. But the big ones, we would do some drone scouting and be like, “Okay, that’s the line we’re going to choose.” Then suddenly, Sven and Benny were up front getting stuck on an eddy, getting swirled around. It was just survival at its finest.Then there’s a place where there’s a big, river wide hole, and I got stuck on it, but managed to surf out. And then Ian got stuck in it, and he took a swim. But that was the one place that was the greatest to swim, because we recovered everything really fast. It doesn’t have that many epic rapids you can run, but it’s the mission. It’s one of the last big water missions that are up there and not well known. So I love that.”
You said the world is a book, and if you don’t travel, you only see one page. What have you gleaned from kayaking that you wouldn’t have gotten if you didn’t travel and experience these places?
It’s a great quote. It gives you perspective and appreciation for how good you have it. I’ve gone from the most amazing rich countries to some of the poorest, and the opportunity to see how happy people can be with so little makes you realize just being alive is such a gift. Like the opportunities that you’ve had in your life, how could you not use that? And just the experience of traveling is just amazing. Getting to meet interesting people and hear their perspective and different ways of seeing life and being more flexible. We all have our ideas, but it doesn’t mean you’re necessarily right. I try to be flexible and keep an open mind. And that’s what traveling has done to me. Just keep an open mind, and you can learn from anyone, any day. Every day, I’m like, I know so little. But I’m more aware of how little I do know and how much I want to know. I just want to keep learning. And traveling is a great way to do that.
Do you have a cultural encounter that stands out from your travels?
I really love Pakistan; I felt like we had such a good connection with the people there. Even if there was a barrier with the language, I became good friends with those guys. I had some solo trips there on the Hunza, and would break a kayak, and find myself on the middle of a multi-day with no kayak, and these random dudes would stop by, help me out and bring a pot of food from their village, and we cooked food there. They are super, super welcoming. If you are their guest, they take care of you. Those people had nothing, but they brought meat and ric and they cooked a meal for all of us in the middle of nowhere.
Tell us about your new Serrasolses Brothers River Company and some of the programs you have going on?
We started in 2018, and we’ve run editions in Chile, Peru, Costa Rica and India. The goal of this program is to help underprivileged kids get into whitewater. We also do chats about environment. We go to places where we know those people are already kayakers. They love the sport, but they might not have the means to pursue it. So we get support from such brands as Kokatat and IR. We give that gear to them so they can keep and use it
One week doesn’t do that much, but it can have a bit impact on someone young when they admire and respect you. It’s very profound. Every time I finish one of those clinics, I’m stoked that I’m able to take some time off my own and see the impact. They are so happy that sometimes I cannot even believe it. They are great kids and are so humble and respectful. While a lot of them live at great river destinations, we are not all born with the same opportunities. I’s just helping them with a little push to find a good way of life. We don’t all need to be rocket scientists. It can open up lots of connections that offer opportunities that aren’t on the river. This year, we’re also going to give some scholarships to come to Chile and work with us as guides.
Tell us about that program:
I started this company where we run trips in Chile and other places. It’s a mix of guiding and coaching. In Chile we do trips in the Pucon area, the Claro, and the Futaleufu, where we have a nice campground. We spend a week kayaking every day and are very flexible with levels. We do from Class III-V. We have trips where the customer picks and chooses what they want to do, what rivers they want to paddle, where to stay. It’s all about having a great time in the river.
So you can accommodate whatever your guests want to do?
Yeah, because the rivers in Chile vary. There are all levels, and it’s a large country and the season goes for a long time. Pucon has some of the sickest rivers in the world, at least 10 that are world class. When that season is done, you move down to the Futa, and you’ve got big water every day. There’s not a day when it’s not running at medium good flows. It’s the perfect playground for learning and training your skills. A lot of people don’t like coaching too much, but one week of coaching can go a long way toward getting rid of some bad habits. And they’re perfect for people who don’t have a lot of time. We take care of everything. What we do is efficiency. You get there, we got your gear and everything else you need, and we head straight to the river. And the food and campground is epic. You can do trips with your friends and have the time of your life. You can do all-inclusive trips or just a random class, or even come with a non-boating partner. It’s super flexible. We have about 30 kayaks, all the Wakas and Pyranha’s. Whatever anyone needs.
Do you have other locations?
Yeah, I really would like to move to the states. Not full time, but to spend more time there, work some, do some instruction. I thought of moving to Canada, maybe close to the Stikine, but that’s one of my crazy ideas that’s probably not great for a family. Close to the Stikine means close to nothing. But it’s one of those dreams.
Any parting thoughts for our community?
Kayaking is such an amazing sport. We’re really very, very lucky to do it. Stay aware of what’s in play out there and have a good time, enjoy it, but also be careful and take care of your people. Be in it for the long run. The best kayakers managed to get to an old age and that’s how I want to keep it. Stay sharp, stay clean.
Listen to full podcast here.
Info: Serrasolses Brothers River Company; www.sbriverco.com.
—Note: this episode of Tales of the Cripps was sponsored by Four Corners River Sports, Taylor Barker with the group Real Estate Steamboat, and Paddlinglife.com.