GATEWAY — Karl Prusik is an undeniable genius.
The Austrian mountaineer is credited with creating the brilliant friction hitch “knot” of the same name. And without it, we might still be camped out beside the Dolores River.
In more than 20 years of whitewater paddling, I’ve never experienced a raft wrap and extraction the likes of which we faced in Rock Slide Rapids, 11 miles below Gateway on the so-called “River of Sorrows” last week.
A blown move in an unforgiving spot sucked my rafting partner’s 14-foot boat and oar frame halfway beneath a boulder in the middle of the river. Two passengers and a dog all escaped without incident. The raft remained in the river’s clutches for the next four days.
The marathon extraction had nothing to do with a lack of effort. After salvaging whatever equipment we could gather from the wrapped raft, two of us used pulleys and carabiners to rig a makeshift “Z-drag” and tug from the shore for nearly four hours as the boat’s captain pushed off the boulder. Another group of boaters caught up to us and joined the struggle after flipping a boat in the same slot.
After a few more fruitless hours the next morning, the decision was made to abandon the boat, post a warning of its whereabouts and return with more equipment via the dirt road a day later.
Seven men, two broken ropes, a steel-cable “come-along” ratchet and 12 arduous hours of labor later, the raft ultimately floated free.
The key, though, could be traced to the Prusik. And any boater who doesn’t know how the mountaineering hitch works could stand to take notice.
It’s a simple if invaluable piece of equipment, a looped string of nylon rope generally 6 to 8mm thick and tied together with a double fishermen’s knot. When wrapped properly around a haul line, the hitch is designed to cinch down when placed under tension, essentially creating a brake as the thicker rope is pulled toward shore.
The brilliance is evident when tension is relaxed, and the Prusik slides forward freely. For that reason, you’ll need at least two, each serving as a brake for the other as you inch your way up the rope.
In our case, we needed roughly eight, a few of which snapped under the tension of two lines rigged through pulleys to form a 9:1 mechanical advantage and a “vector” pull rigged through the come-along capable of hauling more than 2,500 pounds to further increase the force on the rope.
Twice we lined swimmers out to the raft to rig ropes, cut out the boat’s floor and eventually cut away as much of the frame as safely possible.
It wasn’t until an oar lashed to the boat and wedged beneath the boulder eventually snapped in two that the boat grudgingly followed the ropes out of its nook.
