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THE ROAD LESS TRAVELED by Bobby "ZoneDogg" Miller

"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-- I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference." -Robert Frost

West Virginia's Lower Meadow has a big reputation on the East Coast for being an extremely difficult and dangerous run. It is known for its Class 5 rapids that are clogged by undercuts and caves. Frightening tales often come up with the name, "Lower Meadow". You would think due to the reputation, it would be a place that the Dogg had visited quite frequently. However, everytime I mentioned running the Meadow, the overruling response was "too dangerous" or "you're crazy". I had the skill to do the run for about 5 years now and had never found anyone interested in trying it. It was beginning to wear on me and I was starting to grow impatient. I mean, this was no small disappointment. It was the greatest injustice since taxation without representation! Well, on one bright sunny autumn day, all this was about to change.

My buddy, Jim Starrett, and I had debated all morning about making a run down the Meadow and it was finally decision time. If I wasn't gonna run the Meadow, then I would stay in northern WV and save my gas money. Jim, on the other hand, was going to Summersville no matter what and told me that he would use the drive to think about the Meadow. I informed him that, if I spent my hardearned gas money to get down there, that I was going to do the river with or without him.

We dropped a vehicle at Panther Creek and saw two of our friends who had been down the Meadow before. They said that they definitely wouldn't even consider going down it without a guide. They said that all the moves were very difficult and undercuts were everywhere. This was enough to kill any chance of having Jim join me on the run. I loaded my Micro and told Jim that I was gonna run it anyway.

I was tired of hearing all the stories. I respect other people's opinions but I like to form my own. The stories I heard gave it super-river traits like being capable of sucking full volume creek boats off the surface, and that was just in the flatwater. Naturally, the Dogg was skeptical and I was hellbent on seeing this river for myself. It was time to make a stand and there was no stopping me. Sure, I was nervous but I was confident that I would make it down just fine. Don't worry, I won't let you down, unlike some people from these parts. You see, just a week prior, the West Virginia Mountaineers were getting they asses kicked by the Miami Hurricanes 47-10 en route to another disappointing season. It's true. It's true.

As I suited up at the putin, Jim tried desperately to talk me out of the run. He was mumbling something that, "Gonads are useful for their purpose but are no substitute for brains." The Meadow was running a perfect level of 500 cfs on a 70 degree day. The Dogg never misses a Genuine Opportunity and this truly was a Miller Genuine Moment. It didn't matter if there were 5 hundred cfs, 4 calling birds, 3 french hens, 2 turtle doves, or a monkey nipple in a pear tree, I was going to run that river!

I downed a 2 liter bottle of Instant Gonads and shouldered my boat. I promised Jim that I'd meet him at the takeout. I headed down the hill towards the river. There was no turning back. I know that solo boating isn't the safest thing to do, but I was determined. The way I look at it, solo boating is a victimless crime, like punching someone in the dark. You never know what you are capable of until you do it. I didn't know that I was capable of shooting down those German war planes back in World War 2 but I showed them. Besides, I was prepared for anything down there. I had a first aid kit, a throw bag, my sawed-off shotgun, and a breakdancing mat in came I felt like busting a move and gettin jiggy with it.

I put on the river and headed down through the first 100 yards of Class 2 rapids. I had been warned about a bad curler and undercut in the first rapid so I jumped out to scout. Maybe it was the water level but there didn't appear to be too much there to worry about. I got into my boat and blasted right through the curler and threaded the needle between a couple of undercuts. I continued down through a long series of delightful boulder rapids.

Soon, I was out scouting again at a major rapid called Hell's Gate (I was able to gather the names of the major rapids through later discussions with other Meadow boaters). It split at a rock island and went through an impressive boulder drop. The right side looked doable but had a lot of ugly boulders sticking up. The left side filtered into a cool looking 3 foot boof so I chose that as my line. I hopped in my boat and launched a niche one, landing in a cove eddy. It was definitely a SIKy. However, boaters ages 18-35 would probably classify it as schweeeeet. I turned around in the cove and ferried out right in front of a sketchy looking rock and on downstream.

I worked my way downstream through more neat boulder drops that were easily boat scoutable. I soon approached a huge rock on the right and a formidable horizon line which was my cue to take a look.

In front of me was Brink of Disaster, which was a couple of technical drops leading into a 10 foot sloping ledge. This rapid is not all that hard but is right above THE major rapid on the Meadow, Coming Home With Sweet Jesus. I aced the entrance drops and came flying down the slide at a speed that was getting close to 341 miles/hour using unofficial speedometer readings. The speed kinda reminded me of my days as a drag racer. Yeah, the women used to line the stands to see me race. Unfortunately, a severe hangnail in my left pinky sent me into early retirement.

I got out and walked down to view the crux of Sweet Jesus. It was a small drop into a juicy hole that circulated to the right and into a cave. IF you punched the hole, you would be well to the left of the cave and go over about an 8 foot drop followed by some runout drops. My first thoughts were, "I can do this rapid, looks sweet to me." However, I soon came to my senses and told myself that, yes I would most likely ace the drop but.... I was by myself in one of the most famous deadly drops on the East Coast. So I headed up to the road and walked around.

I worked my way down the bank to the pool below Sweet Jesus and saw another large horizon line through boulders. The main channel went down the middle and slammed into a large boulder sieve that was probably big enough to swallow a two headed wriekazoid. The large trees sticking straight out of the boulder were a testament to this. There was a right side sneak down a slide that might have been good to go with more water but was pretty bony looking. So, I shouldered my boat again and put in below.

This seemed like the perfect time to work on my breakdancing moves so I busted out the mat and proceded to get down! I started with a backspin into a Backside 44, followed by a Master Swipe. I then did a Helicopter followed by a Superman Windmill. After a few headspins, I finished out with a Nilla Ice and the old classic, The Worm! By this time, I was fired up and ready for anything! WHOOOOO!

I worked my way down many many delightful Class 4-5 rapids with awesome slots and drops. Most of it could be boat scouted but, occassionally, I'd hop out just to be safe. There was one really cool slide that went through a seminarrow slot and around a turn. Another cool drop featured a steep juicy entrance drop into a boulder dam with 3 slots. The center slot looked pretty cool but I opted to go for the far right one over neat drop.

As I worked my way down the river, I was exhiliarated by the extreme beauty and enjoyable rapids that were nestled down in this forbidden corridor. It was an absolute delight to my soul to be surrounded by such awesome beauty. I felt at one with the river and my surroundings. Each boof, slot, and drop reward me with a beautiful pool at the bottom with gorgeous rock formations surrounded by fall folliage.

Once again, I was out scouting at a big horizon line which I knew had to be Double Undercut. The river went over a 6-8 foot horseshoe shaped ledge, bottled up all its volume and raged down a steep wave train that slammed into a huge undercut on the right and headed left. The idea was to hit the boof on the left side of the horseshoe but not so far left that you fell off into another undercut extending out from the left bank. Then, you had to power left to avoid the undercut at the bottom. I hopped in my boat and headed down the small approach slope. It was difficult to see exactly where you wanted to be coming up to the boof. Once I saw it, I fired up a kickass launch, landed totally flat and under control to head left and around the big undercut. Oh yesh! It was a schweeeeeeeet one! However, boaters ages 36-52 would most definitely classify it as SIK!

Below Double Undercut, the run began to mellow out. There were still some good boulder drops but they eventually lightened to Class 2 rapids and long pools. This gave me ample opportunity to soak up the beauty and reflect on the awesome day I had had. The rock cliffs and foliage were even more spectacular in this stretch. It was some of the most beautiful wilderness that I have ever laid my eyes on. I was miles from any civilization or any other human being for that matter. It was peaceful and refreshing to my soul. I thanked the Lord for giving me the balls to take on such an adventure and see such a magical place.

As I neared the end of the Meadow River, I came upon an island. The right side appeared to have some trees pinned in it so I headed down the left and came upon a good horizon line. The Meadow wasn't ready to float off into the sunset just yet. I eddied out just above the drop and peered over it. There was a 6 foot sloping ledge through a narrow slot that hit an undercut on the right and went under an overhang on the left. I peeled out angled left, busted down the slope and ducked the overhang. Quite a scweeeet drop if I must say. It was worth a little hooting and hollering.

I was carried down into the Gauley River by small slides and rock gardens. I could see the crowds going down the river for quite a distance away. This made me appreciate more the value of my run down the Meadow. I had seen a beautiful run with great rapids and didn't see another person the whole way. I had indeed taken the road less traveled and that made all the difference in my day. When the dust had settled and the smoke had cleared, there emerged the Dogg unscathed and victorious. It was a tremendous test against the elements and I had come out shining. What could have been another great day on the Gauley had turned into a spectacular day on a new run. I would definitely rank the Meadow high on my list of favorite rivers.

I headed out into the Gauley and passed a few boaters who were sitting on top of the SIK splat rock near the confluence. They asked me if I had come down the Meadow and I told them that I indeed had, and it was awesome. They then looked around with surprised looks expecting to one of my buddies behind me. I asked the time and went on my merry way. It had taken me about 3 hours to do the run.

I wavewheeled my Micro down the rest of the Gauley to Panther Creek. It was interesting doing that run in a creek boat. The only woundage of the day came when I scraped my knuckle running the slot at Tumblehome. I arrived at the takeout to catch my buddy, Jim, loading his boat on the U-Haul of Shame. I had had such a good day that I couldn't give him too hard of a time. I told him of my great adventure on the hike up the trail (with my boat on my shoulder ofcourse) and the ride back to the putin. We decided to head to the local speakeasy to celebrate the occassion. After we were all good and liquored up, we headed over to the personal art studio to get tattoos. But that is another story......

Bobby

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