The Infamous Chutes

The Infamous Chutes

My great-niece has made the junior varsity volleyball team. Her experience has caused me to revisit my own youth and recall some of my favorite memories involving athletic activities. Such was the case when we jumped off of cliffs into the South Platte River, near Deckers, Colorado. I was 16 at the time. I had my first car, a 1950 Plymouth.

One such trip I was joined by my usual gang of Ivan, Lee and George. We stuffed a bunch of old inner tubes (for you younger folks, all car tires had inner tubes at the time) and rope in th trunk of my car and headed for the mountains, about 50 miles away. After a winding and steep dirt-road pass we arrived at the best spot. It was called “The Chutes” (see video).

The Chutes was a popular spot for adolescents. If you have ever seen the movie American Graffiti you might know what I mean. The older kids tended to bring plenty of beer with them. Over the years there were plenty of problems like under-aged drinking, auto wrecks, fighting and people cutting their feet on the glass that accumulated when other people threw their beer bottles in the river.

None of that mattered to us. In fact, I think it was part of the lure. Well anyway, in the spring and early summer the Platte is very full with rapid water and lots of white caps. Upstream from the Chutes, the river narrowed to half its usual width forcing the same amount of water through a very narrow mini-canyon, much like the effect you get when you squeeze a garden hose to create extra water pressure, only this was on a much, much bigger scale. That incredible pressure forced the water to “shoot” through the next 100 feet or so; hence the name.

Immediately after the Chutes, the river returned to its normal width. The water mellowed substantially into a deep and delicious swimming hole. The current is deceptively active but compared to the Chutes it was like a walk in the park.

The first time I went to the Chutes, my friends introduced me to one of their favorite activities. We tied our inner-tubes together as if to make our own raft. Then we found a good place to enter the river above the Chutes. As our makeshift raft neared the Chutes the river noise level was noticeably louder. We hadn’t even reached the most dangerous area and Ivan fell out of the flimsy raft. Everybody else, including me, was slipping into survival mode. There wasn’t enough time to pull Ivan back in the raft. I made him hang on to the outside of the jumbled mass of inner-tubes. He grabbed it with all of his mite.

As we rounded the next bend, the water noise was deafening. I was really scared for my life. Even though I was a good swimmer, I wanted out. The trouble was we had passed the point of no return. The water was going too fast. There was no going back.

Even though I had seen the Chutes from above, I was not even remotely prepared for what it looked like from eyelevel. The first real glance from the raft challenged all of my senses. The roiling water was sending water spray 10 feet over my head. My ears were overwhelmed with the roar. The entire ride was going to be a lot longer than it looked like from above. All sorts of scary thoughts and questions entered my mind at the exact same time. Oh my God, what have I done? What will happen to Ivan? Will the raft even hold together? What do I do if I fall out? Please Lord… Closer. Closer.

Then the inevitable moment came. The river began to narrow. Water was crashing in from the sides and thrusting us forward with incredible force. The make-do raft was bouncing all around. Just then one of my questions was answered. The ropes started breaking apart; and, we weren’t even to the toughest part. Then the rope was stretched beyond its capabilities. As it succumbed to the torment, the raft seemed to explode into a bunch of individual inner-tubes. It was every man for himself.

I barely hung on for another second or two. Like a cowboy on a championship bull, I was being bucked all over the place. Then it happened! My tube flipped over just before I hit the most dangerous part of the Chutes. I was forced under water. I was a good swimmer and I held my breath as long as I could. I bounced off rocks and I was turning over and over, underwater, in every direction at the same time.

The water was too active to provide a hint of where the top was. I didn’t know what to do as I was washing down stream. I began to swim as fast as I could but I did not even know what direction to go. I realized I might die. Then, suddenly, my head popped up out of the water, downstream about 50 feet from the Chutes. I gasped for fresh air and then I gasped again. I thanked God for sparing my life. I used what little energy I had left and swam to the side of the river, exhausted, and crawled up on shore. I thanked God once more because I really meant it.

All of my other buddies, including Ivan, had already come up. I was the last one. Later one of the more experienced guys told me that I should not have fought it. “Just relax and the river will carry you downstream, then you can pop up effortlessly.”

“Humph. Why didn’t somebody say that earlier?”

Eventually, we learned some safer way to enjoy the Chutes, like wait until a little later in the season when the water level subsides and don’t fight the water. We enjoyed many safer rides after that.

Another activity that was safer had to do with that large pool of water right below the Chutes. As I said, the water was deep and relatively mellow there. There was also a cliff about 35 feet above the water level. Over many years the water had carved a bit of the canyon wall, thereby inviting the bravest to jump off the cliff and into the running water. Naturally, I could not resist. One day some tourists came by and took pictures of us. They sent me copies later that summer. I think I still have them somewhere.

About 15 years ago somebody told me the authorities implimentednew regulations frobidding cliff diving and unsafe water craft like home-made inner tube rafts. Now it is a favorite place for Kayakers. Watch Video. It is not hard to understand. There have been quite a few injuries, and drowning.

Fortunately, I was not one of them.

Now, I get pleasure out of less dramatic things.

I hope my great-niece will enjoy volley ball.

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