GUNNISON NATIONAL FOREST — Like so many of Colorado’s classic outdoor sporting events, the Oh Be Joyful steep creek kayak race started out as just the opposite. At birth, it was a non-event, unsanctioned by anyone other than the renegades running their boats over the intimidating waterfalls garnishing the mountain landscape above Crested Butte.
A few paddlers dared to take the plunge down the cascading creek first descended by Tim Keggerman and occasionally referred to as “Oh Be Careful” back in 1995. Among them was current Crested Butte resident Brent Toepper, then a resident river rat of the Oh Be Joyful campground.
“Everyone running it back then thought it would be fun to have a race,” Toepper said. “Twenty people entered at 20 bucks a head, winner take all.”
Since that incognito inauguration, the Oh Be Joyful steep creek kayak race has endured a history that mirrors the ebb and flow of the snowmelt runoff feeding the dramatic drainage of the same name.
Some years, the appropriate U.S. Forest Service permits were procured and up to 100 paddlers showed up to race a section of the Class V creek dropping some 400 feet per mile. Just as often, though, a clandestine race flew beneath the radar, attracting a core group of kayakers via word of mouth that rarely reached the ranger station.
Perhaps due to those renegade races — along with a picture-perfect 25-foot waterfall drop — the mystique of the creek has continued to grow through the years, qualifying Oh Be Joyful as one of the most popular Class V creek runs in Colorado these days. As a result, those off-radar races are likely a thing of the past.
But thanks to the efforts of Toepper and the generosity of the corresponding Gunnison River Festival (which shared its insurance policy), a fully sanctioned Oh Be Joyful steep creek race went off without a hitch Sunday. Fourteen men and two women took to the river below Ankle Breaker Falls, while a gathering maybe four times as large took in the show from the safety of the banks.
“Since I’ve been back here, there’s been good energy, and a bunch of older local guys that have been in this race since the very beginning have taken it upon ourselves to make sure this thing is carried on,” Toepper said. “With a small amount of work, we should be able to get the whole lower section of the river open, which hasn’t been clean of wood since probably ’95. We’d like to race that next year, which according to my research would make it the steepest creek race in the world, around 900 vertical feet in just over a mile. That’s the goal we’re working toward.”
It’s easy to assume ulterior media motives might come into play should the former non-event ultimately earn the billing of “world’s steepest” sanctioned kayak race, but Toepper is quick to point out that “Mother Nature has already beaten down some of OBJ’s best chances to become famous.”
The notoriously fickle runoff is at the mercy of erratic weather patterns capable of dousing television crews under 6 inches of snow — as it has in the past — at any moment.
Yet none of that seems to matter when it comes to competitors who thrive on the natural beauty surrounding the low-key event.
“The allure is the community, how we all come down here and scrap it out in the dirt and enjoy it whatever the weather brings — rain, sun or hail. The local boys make it happen, which is awesome,” said Jules Campbell, 29, of Carbondale, who pocketed $100 cash and a Sweet Protection helmet as the race winner. “I think the people who named this run ‘Oh Be Joyful’ really got it right. There are a lot of runs in Colorado with names like ‘Gore,’ ‘Slaughterhouse,’ ‘Meatgrinder’ — but ‘Oh Be Joyful,’ that’s what it’s all about. It’s a great neighborhood.”
