{"id":37516,"date":"2025-10-14T00:00:34","date_gmt":"2025-10-14T07:00:34","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/community.nrs.com\/duct-tape\/?p=37516"},"modified":"2025-10-24T10:33:41","modified_gmt":"2025-10-24T17:33:41","slug":"the-math-equation-that-saved-us_2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/community.nrs.com\/duct-tape\/2025\/10\/14\/the-math-equation-that-saved-us_2\/","title":{"rendered":"The Math Equation That Saved Us"},"content":{"rendered":"

I tried all my tricks. <\/span><\/p>\n

I leaned my ear in close while opening and closing the valve: no sound. I hovered the lighter\u2019s flame near the brass attachments: no flame. I unscrewed each attachment and checked the tines weren\u2019t bent. I re-screwed tightly, making sure not to <\/span>over<\/span><\/i>screw. I checked the threads for sand and, seeing none, blew on them anyway. <\/span>At this point, I had maxed out my stove repair skills, so in a Hail Mary approximation, I whispered \u201cPlease work,\u201d eight times in a row. I tried again to light the stove. It did not light.<\/span><\/p>\n

This was night one on the Lower Owyhee. Perhaps the sunbrella and beach emoticon Casey labeled the pre-trip group chat with was misleading. Perhaps it was just optimistic. It was May, after all. Casey and Mika were excited to introduce two coworkers to their first-ever river trip. <\/span><\/p>\n

So far, it was not panning out as advertised. The unfavorable conditions included a wind advisory and a rainstorm. Gale-force winds whipped water violently off whitecaps. The upstream gusts were comically unceasing. Rogue waves as big as ocean swells peppered the first eight miles of flatwater. I tried to ignore the swelling blister on my palm.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

The Owyhee Canyonlands are a place that have never, not once, been normal for me. This piece of public land is wild, remote, and wonderfully fickle. When I recreate there, something almost always goes wrong. Our gazetteer doesn\u2019t match Google Maps, and neither map\u2014digital or paper\u2014matches the actual roads.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Once, we got high-centered in a mud puddle. We spent three hours up to our armpits digging ourselves out, all to the soundtrack of pooping cows. Another time, in the same area, at the same time of year, we got high-centered on snow. There have been times I am so hot it feels dangerous to leave my full-body submersion. But then again, at the same time of year, we had to pour boiling water on our frozen shoes just to loosen the laces enough to slip our feet inside. Both high and low water conditions have thwarted expeditions. The Owyhee Canyonlands have bested me more than once, but I love them even more for it.\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

If the conditions are right, the Lower Owyhee River is actually a relatively accessible stretch through an otherwise remote and undeveloped area. Usually, the toughest part is the Birch Creek Take Out road, which can wash out with heavy rains. (I avoid thinking about one particular drive out). If there\u2019s rain in the forecast, some people opt to take out at Leslie Gulch instead. Depending on how full the reservoir is, this option involves about 13 miles of deadwater. You can bring your own motor, or hire a tow. On this particular trip, the Birch Creek road was reportedly in rough shape. We booked our shuttle to Leslie when Mika procured a propane-powered motor for us to borrow.<\/span><\/p>\n

Mika, Casey and I wanted to make sure that Zach and Marie had a good time on their first river trip. When we arrived late at camp after only managing to row nine out of our scheduled 17 miles that day, I went into overdrive.<\/span><\/p>\n