Chris Kassar taking the time to say a prayer at the proposed dam site of the Baker River. Patagonia, Chile. Photo: James Q Martin

by Chris Kassar via The Cleanest Line

Every time I kneel down next to a river – even if just for a moment – I swear I can hear it speak to me. I know this probably sounds crazy, but I also know I’m not the only one who hears wise murmurs rising from the ripples of wild waters. For many of us, the rhythm of a river can mesmerize our soul, capture our spirit and force us to really stop and listen.

The Baker River, nestled deep in the mountains of Chilean Patagonia, is no different. I spent weeks walking its banks, riding its waves, and crunching through the epic ice fields that feed it. I even floated over the exact spot where its journey as a river ended and it emptied into the sea – a feat in and of itself given that so many rivers, including my very own Colorado, no longer even make it all the way to the ocean. But, this trip from source to sea was much more than just a fun adventure. We – team Rios Libres – immersed ourselves in the landscape so we could arm ourselves with the knowledge needed to join the fight to protect Patagonia’s wildlands and the people who depend on them.

During our excursion, the mighty Baker spoke volumes and gave us a glimpse into what the world used to be like – full of untamed lands, untouched rivers, intact forests and people who depended on the land and each other to survive. Spending a month at the edge of the world was like traveling back in time to an age when things were simpler and nature remained largely unaltered by the trappings of man.

Unfortunately, the experience we had may not be available for future generations unless we raise our voices and speak for the river. Huge walls of concrete threaten to choke the furious turquoise flow of Chile’s most voluminous river, the Baker and its rugged sister, the Pascua. If allowed, big business will ruin pristine old-growth forests, destroy the gaucho culture and silence the beautiful sound of these waters only to replace them with the disheartening din of ‘civilization’ – bulldozers, power lines, reservoirs and dams… all to provide power for the destructive mining industry in the north.

Timmy O'Neill dropping Class V on the Baker River. Photo: James Q Martin

But this doesn’t have to happen. Perhaps, if we could just sit and listen more carefully, we might hear the river speak and fully grasp the idea that it is more important to protect the river’s power than harness it. Chile has the opportunity to learn from mistakes made in the past; they can act as a model for the rest of the world by seeking alternatives that allow them to gain energy independence while still maintaining the character of Patagonia.

We’ve written about this in the past and our team made an award-winning film called Power in the Pristine that documented our source-to-sea adventure and highlighted the various threats to the region.

So why are we writing now? We’re writing because this fight is far from over and we need your help in giving this river and its people a voice once again. A lot has happened over the past year and it seems that the wild character of the entire region – which was once endangered – is now closer to extinction than ever before. The following video will catch you up on the issue. We hope it inspires you to read on and to act. The river speaks and so can you!

***

Synopsis of recent happenings: In May 2011, the government approved the dams. Tens of thousands of Chileans took to the streets in opposition and six weeks later, the Court temporarily halted all construction due to a pending appeal. This was especially significant since the Court was the only Chilean authority to challenge the project since its inception in 2008. However, in October, the Chilean appeals court ruled in favor of the dam project causing the volley to continue as opponents who want to protect this unique environment brought their challenge to the Supreme Court. In the meantime, the project still requires a permit for more than 1,250 miles (2,000-km) of transmission line to carry the 2,750 megawatts generated from deep in southern Patagonia to the capital Santiago. Earlier this week (Dec. 5), HidroAysen – the company behind the dam project – released initial plans for the powerline and the environmental analysis will begin in March 2012.

Clearly, the fight to protect Chile’s pristine rivers and wildlands is not over; protests continue and polls show that over 74% of Chileans oppose the dams. This Saturday, December 10, thousands will return to the streets in Coyahique and other cities in Chile to show the government that they oppose this decision. If you cannot make the event in Chile, please show your solidarity by taking action through these groups:

1. Rios Libres: Join the ‘virtual march’ to keep Patagonia Wild!
2. NRDC: Tell Chile’s President to stop the HidroAysén project from destroying Patagonia (Learn more)
3. International Rivers: Demand Democracy for Chile – NO to HidroAysén!

The river speaks and so can you!

For more info go to: www.rioslibres.com.

National Geographic has announced it’s annual Adventurers of the Year and we’re psyched to see some familiar faces in the mix. 

For seven years, National Geographic has combed the globe to find Adventurers of the Year, each selected for his or her extraordinary achievement in exploration, conservation, and adventure sports. This year, in partnership with Glenfiddich, we selected men and women who are pioneering innovation in the world of adventure-by reinventing distance hiking on the Appalachian Trail, launching a backyard microadventure movement, skiing the Andes under human power, and much more. 

Here we present our 2012 Adventurers of the Year. Check them out, then vote every day for your favorite in the People’s Choice Award.

Congratulations! And kudos to Fitz Cahall for pulling together the stories so beautifully.

Here’s to all of your explorers out there. Whether you find adventure in your own backyard, or in the far-reaches of the globe, we’re grateful to have people like you continually stoking our collective fire and pushing the limit to bring incredible stories home. We’ll leave you with this wonderful and well-known quote from Steve Jobs…

Here’s to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The trouble-makers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They’re not fond of rules, and they have no respect for the status-quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify, or vilify them. But the only thing you can’t do is ignore them. Because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do.

Happy Friday!

Image via. And thanks to Jen Woodward who passed it along to us.

PHOTO of Marmot Dam explosion via

Love from under solen

I saw a post from a friend on Facebook as the news spread of Steve Jobs’ death and all that it said was “iSad”.  This simple and clever post made me laugh while the rest of the world was/is mourning the passing of an exceptional thinker. From this laughter came deep gratitude for all of the people that are in our lives and who fill it consistently with smiles, hope and grace.

I will borrow Steve Jobs words and Rihanna’s song (to be played extremely loud — don’t be ashamed) as we raise our glasses to YOU as we venture into another beautiful weekend:

“Here’s to the crazy ones, the misfits, the rebels, the troublemakers, the round pegs in the square holes… the ones who see things differently — they’re not fond of rules… you can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them, but the only thing you can’t do is ignore them because they change things… they push the human race forward, and while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius, because the ones who are crazy enough to think that they can change the world, are the ones who do.”  — Steve Jobs

Thank you to the brands who carefully select and build products that truly stand for something and better our world in some small or large way. Cheers to the musicians and filmmakers who bare their soul each and every time a microphone or camera covers their face. Thank you to the non-profits who exist out of pure passion for something that needs to be believed in. Cheers to the silent leaders that fill our world, I trust that your voices will be heard in those times of need.

We honor and send high fives out to you ALL!  HAPPY FRIDAY and we hope that you ROCK OUT HARD THIS WEEKEND!

We’ve all had an epic. An adventure that gets a little too out of hand… Well, earlier this week, I had a bit of an epic.

There’s a little thing called Tipsy Tuesdee that happens over on the Middle White Salmon. It’s usually a group of girls (boys are allowed sometimes) who head over to the river on Tuesday after work and fit in a fun and splashy run to take advantage of the gloriously long days in the summertime. Oh, and there are some cans of beer involved too.

I’ve taken part with my sister and had pretty much the time of my life, or at least the time of my week with the fabulous ladies of the Gorge. So this time would be no different, right? Wrong. One, my sister couldn’t come, so my inflatable kayak (IK) felt huge and empty without her. And two, the river was WAY higher than I remembered.

When we reached the put-in I had a feeling in my gut that I shouldn’t run the river that day, but I was with three awesome and uber experienced kayakers, so I told myself to suck it up and go for it anyway. It took me five-ish Class IV rapids and one swim to realize I was in way over my head. My tandem IK was too much boat for me to maneuver alone. I was wheeli-ing all over the place and getting seriously pushed around in the whitewater. It felt like my boat wasn’t even touching the water it was so buoyant.

My friends said I was actually doing really well. I still don’t believe them. I was scared, felt out of control and wanted to run. But damn it, you can’t run on water and the basalt cliffs in the canyon made it near impossible to climb out. So, after a few deep breaths, several swigs of my tall boy and words of encouragement from my friends, I paddled back into the whitewater. Some more pushy rapids and another near-swim and my determination was toast. I paddled over to a steep, but manageable hillside, pulled my IK out of the water and told my friends I’d meet them by the road. They agreed that the road was pretty close to where I took out, so agreed and paddled away. I heaved a sigh of relief to be on dry land.

I pulled my boat up farther and stowed it behind a big Doug Fir tree and started climbing up the slope. My plan was to hike to the road, leave my paddle and drysuit and then hopefully retrieve my boat before my friends showed up. Entirely too optimistic: After reaching the top, I realized I was in for it… before me stood A LOT of thick forest and no sign of the road. I walked for about 30 minutes or so and didn’t find the road, so I retraced my steps back to the river.

By this time the sun had dipped below the trees and it was getting dark… quick. It only took me a few minutes to decide that my best option was to hike/scramble along the river until I reached the take-out or something else that would lead me to the road. So I finished my beer, scarfed down a Clif Bar and was on my way. Vine maple + slippery, mossy river rocks = REALLY tough going.

It took me more than 2 hours to bushwhack my way to the road and find my friends. Way more of an adventure than any of us had planned for a Tuesday night. I had a lot of time to think and was reminded of a few things that I thought I’d share…

1. The wilderness is big, you are small. Respect it. Sometimes it takes getting rocked by a wave, pushed around by a rapid or climbing a big wall or mountain to make you realize how teeny, tiny you are. It’s not a bad thing at all. It’s a great thing. I think we could use more reminders of the vast power of nature. That deserves some serious respect.
2. Listen to your gut. It’s almost never wrong. Sure, nothing bad happened. Everyone made it out of this adventure okay, but when you’re gut is telling you that you shouldn’t do something, you should listen. It’s a fine line between challenging yourself and pushing it too far.
3. Relax. Take a few breaths and try again. Whatever you’re doing, don’t panic. That’s the worst thing you can do in challenging situations. Remember: you got this. And if it turns out you’ve pushed it too far, don’t be afraid to walk away. You’ll have a chance to challenge yourself again.
4. Love your friends. I mean give them some real LOVE! They encourage you when you’re freaking out on a river and they’ll pick your cold, wet and tired ass up on the side of the road in the dark and take you home and make you grilled cheese and tomato soup. Molly Downey, Andy Maser and Hayden Peters: I LOVE YOU!!!
5. Always, always carry a head lamp and snacks. That’s what the pocket in your life jacket, backpack and pants is for! Dear Clif Bar: thanks for keeping me going. Dear Emily: Always bring a head lamp! That scramble would have been a hell of a lot easier if I could see…

Moral of the story: respect nature, respect yourself and respect your friends… and have fun out there!

Happy Friday!

via Osprey Packs:

A new uranium mining boom is threatening further harm to the people, water, wildlands and biodiversity of the Grand Canyon region.

The Obama administration is considering a plan that would protect up to 1 million acres of the Grand Canyon’s watersheds from new uranium mining. But only one of the alternatives they’re considering — Alternative B — affords protections across the entire 1 million acre watershed.

What can you do?

1. Knowledge is power. Watch the video and learn why we need to use our voice to speak up for the Grand Canyon right NOW.

2. Share the love! Post this video on your FB, Twitter or blogs. Tell your friends, neighbors, family what’s up.

3. Take action! Send a letter of support to the Obama administration urging them to stand firm and protect the Grand Canyon from nasty uranium mining.

May 4th is the last day the government will be accepting public comments, so please act today!

What does it mean to live simply? Renting a studio apartment with no car, no pets and no real estate to my name, some may say that I live simply. But I enjoy my creature comforts; I own too many fleece/windstopper/synthetic shell type jackets, I would be hard pressed to sell my wonderful couch and I like drinking wine out of regular wine glasses.

Living simply, after all, is relative.

I’ve been thinking about the idea of living simply a lot over the last several months. Last summer one our good friends Allie Bombach took off on what I thought was one of the coolest adventures anyone had dreamed up in quite some time.

She got rid of most of her possessions, scrounged up enough cash to buy an Airstream and committed the next phase of her life to not only living simply herself, but also finding and telling the stories of others that were doing the same. Many emails were sent back and forth as she built the foundation of 23 Feet, planned her route and got people excited about her project.

As she made her way from Durango to Portland, Emily and I followed along through email and Facebook updates. The truck broke down; we sent her positive vibes via text. She crossed the border into Oregon; we called her and screamed, “welcome!” into the phone. She finally pulled into Portland, drove down a long street in SE, the silver Airstream in tow; we ran down the street, jumping and dancing to welcome her to her new home.

Fast forward seven months later, to a conversation that went a little like this:

Me: “We have three various events to go to in Colorado during the month of May”

Emily: “Seems like a dumb idea to fly back and forth that many times, doesn’t it?”

Me: “Yup.”

Allie: “You should just come in the Airstream.”

Emily and I: “Ok”

Sometimes choosing to live simply is just that: simple.

And so we contemplated what it would take to help with the Colorado tour of 23 Feet and how exactly the four ladies of Red Reel and Under Solen would fare crammed into such a small space for weeks on end. “Pretty well” we decided.

A small brainstorm quickly turned into the “Month of Colorado” (MOC for short), a tour that would include backyards, organic beers and bringing like-minded, passionate people together. All to talk about what living simply in order to pursue your passions really means.

There are times in your life when you embark on journeys that you know will change you. This is one of them. Sure there will be wifi networks, so we can get the “day job” done (even MOC does not allow for auto responders), but in the end we’re all taking time to do what we love. To live.

We’re choosing beans and rice — ok, maybe some quinoa — over risotto, cowboy coffee over soy lattes, river dunks over daily showers and morning trail runs over carefully planned lunch break workouts, and I couldn’t be more excited.

It’s time to hit the reboot button. Work during the day, play in the afternoon. Step away from everyday routine and reality and push our boundaries a bit. Pack the tent and sleeping bag and hope for some starry nights outside. Brush the sand out of the mug before pouring in some wine. Don’t take a shower for a few days. The things that fuel our souls, and yet, are so often, so easy to neglect.

We’ll take photos. We’ll post updates. But mostly we’ll take time to appreciate where we are, who we’re with and the conversations that we’re having. All in the hopes of inspiring more individuals to truly think about what makes them passionate – what makes them feel alive – and how they’re going to start incorporating that into their daily life on a larger scale.

Environmental activist and ocean rower Roz Savage hits the water today to embark on her 5th expedition, taking her from Fremantle, Australia to Mumbia, India.

I met Roz several years ago, and since have been constantly inspired by her commitment to spreading a positive message wherever she goes. If you spend time with her you’ll quickly learn that she was not too long ago a member of “normal” society, with the 9-5 cubicle job, a fabulous London living situation, a car… the list goes on. But one day she decided that there might be more to life than a steady income and life in the suburbs. So she did what any adventurous soul would do: plotted out a course for change.

For Roz that meant rowing solo across the Atlantic Ocean.

Not everyone is going to give up everything and pursue a similar path to Roz’s. But what is inspiring about this woman is that she doesn’t expect that from any of us. What she does expect is that we start to think about and question what kind of an impact our everyday lifestyles have. This certainly puts her on our list of women that kick ass.

We caught up with Roz a few days before her scheduled departure to learn a little more about this expedition and what she hopes others will gain from her experiences.

How is this expedition different from the last?

With every voyage, I feel like I learn something new. The Atlantic was the personal journey. The Pacific became the environmental journey. It would be really cool if the Indian was the spiritual journey – but you can never tell in advance!

Why do you think adventure and activism go hand in hand?

My rowing adventures make a great metaphor for how we can tackle our environmental challenges. There are probably times when we all wonder what we can do to make a difference, and feel that our individual actions are just a tiny drop in a very big ocean. But rowing an ocean demonstrates that a million (literally!) tiny actions add up to something really significant. We can achieve almost anything, if we just take it one oarstroke at a time.

How do you inspire other women to pursue their passions?

I hope it’s not just women I inspire! But seriously, I used to seriously limit myself by not believing I could have an adventure. I’m short (five-foot-four on a good day) and not very athletic, and not all that young any more (43). Then I read about a woman, about my size, who had continued to row alone across the Atlantic after her big, strapping, six-foot-five husband completely crumbled mentally, and had to be taken off their boat for his own good. It made me realize that it’s more about the strength of your spirit than the strength of your muscles.

If you could encourage people to do just one thing to make this world a better place, what would it be?

I would ask them to never again use a single-use plastic item. Plastic bags, water bottles, drinking straws, plastic silverware…. it’s so easy to carry your own. It simply makes no sense to make “disposable” items, with a useful life of about 20 minutes, out of an indestructible substance that is with us for decades. And once you get that whole concept, that on a finite Earth, when you throw something “away” it doesn’t really go away, it starts to make you so much more conscious of where things come from, and where they go to. And once you get THAT, you don’t have much choice but to be much more mindful about your actions. Every time we buy something, or throw something “away”, or choose how to get from A to B, we are casting a vote for the kind of future that we want. Every action counts!

Demo Day. One of our favorite days of the year. The time we get to strap on legit ski gear, pretend we know what we’re doing in Utah powder, and jump around frantically as we see friends that we’ve haven’t had a chance to catch up with in person for the last six months.

Highlights of Demo Day 2011?

Reunion with Sara Lingafelter

“You ladies are beginner skiers too?? I love it!” A woman that wears bright pants but can be honest about her ski level is a rockstar in our book.

Osprey insulated hydration sleeves

Seriously, how had we ever lived without these? All this time snowshoeing with regular hydration packs where the tubes froze solid, skiing with one of these was like scoring a luxury item.

Black Diamond boots

Much better than our used, sometimes rented gear. And even better is when you get asked, “wait, did you sign a waiver?” when you don’t know the answer to a technical question about your bindings.

The Sweetgrass Bus

Ain’t nothing like rolling up into Cottonwood Canyon than in a multicolored, decked out bus complete with speakers, colored Christmas lights and hot toddies.

Innate doppios

Perfect for afore mentioned hot toddies.

Allie Bombach

One of the funnest, fabulous and go-get-em videographers on earth. Seriously.

Matching outfits

Silver rainboots? Check. Blue and red fleece/synthetic/warm goodness? Check.

Shooting pretend ski videos and taking ridiculous photos

The. Best. Ever.