60 Years of FIBArk
By Lee HartOnly beer goggles could have made it seem like a good idea for two guys to challenge each other to a canoe race from Salida to Canon City, Colorado. The route included the fearsome Royal Gorge, a stretch of the Arkansas that six decades ago was described in terms such as “whitewater hell” or “meanest stretch of whitewater in the world.” But race they did, and June 12–15 marks the 60th anniversary of the bar bet that became FIBArk, this country’s first and longest continuously running annual river party.
Newsreel footage preserves the spectacle of that first “official” race in 1949: townsfolk mill about the start as earnest-looking competitors ready, screwing together paddles, strapping cushions to their backs for padding, fastening cotton hats and goggles. Later, the cameraman captures the parade of now-extinct Studebakers, Hudsons and Austins as they crawl bumper to bumper down US 50 stalking the race by road.
On the rails across the river, the Denver and Rio Grande passenger train ground along slowly enough for riders to hop on and off for a closer glimpse. And just one team among 23 starters, a pair of Swiss guys who took turns paddling, survived 7 hours 18 minutes of frothing mayhem to become the FIBArk’s first victors. The following year, the fastest finish time exceeded 10 hours, prompting race organizers to shorten the course from 57 to its current length of 26 miles starting in 1951.
Events in 1954 set the tone for FIBArk’s role as trendsetter on and off the water. That year, FIBArk hosted the first sanctioned slalom race in North America just one year after German world champion slalom badass Erich Seidel brought the sport from Europe to the US via Salida. Bigger news was the advent of the event’s first women competitors, a pair of bikini-clad French girls. At the time, the bikini was becoming de rigueur on the French Riviera, though it remained off-limits in the States, where it was seen as a suspect garment favored by “licentious Mediterranean types.” Local boys could hardly contain their drool.
Through the ‘80s, FIBArk maintained its international cred, attracting foreign competitors who were treated like celebrities, including free airfare for top European paddlers provided by the Salida Chamber of Commerce. As ever, the Euros are easy to pick out of a crowd, as graphically demonstrated in archival newsreel footage of the inaugural 1949 race that shows a couple guys in nut-hugging short shorts.
No matter the language, “grueling” is the word universally used to describe the race that whitewater aficionados like USA Wildwater’s John Pinyerd attests is the world’s toughest downriver race. Record-holding six-time victor and this year’s honorary Commodore Gary Lacy says his winning formula is comprised of large parts relentless training plus paddling skill, grit and a little bit of luck. “It’s hard to paddle as hard as you can for 2 to 2-1/2 hours,” he says, “But if you don’t, you don’t stand a chance of winning.”
Four-time winner Andy Corra, now owner of Four Corners Riversports in Durango, recalls boaters used to “kill themselves” partaking in all FIBArk races; for a time, results from a bike criterium, a 5K run, the slalom and downriver races were compiled to award best overall competitor, dubbed Ironhead. And as if training and playing hard weren’t enough, racers also had to play security guard on Saturday night before the downriver race, when festivities reached their crescendo at the Victoria Tavern, Salida’s oldest and rowdiest saloon.
Lacy giggles and pleads the Fifth — Amendment and bottle — when asked what hand he had in stashing rocks in boats, hoisting a boat into a tree, or the fake car crash that brought business to a standstill at the intersection of Salida’s two main streets. When the dust cleared from the quasi-demolition derby, the guys turned up their car stereos and cracked open beers. Everyone thought the prank was pretty funny until local cops dragged a few of the whitewater jokesters off to jail.
Some things never change. FIBArk is still attracting past, present and future Olympic, World and National Champs. On the water, youthful exuberance tries to upset experience-fueled cunning, music and dancing still fills the river park, gaggles of girls and bravado-filled guys flirt with one another, the Vic is still party central and soggy drunks still make crazy bets in the local watering holes.
Chronology of FIBArk firsts
FIBArk stands for First in Boating on the Arkansas and is widely acknowledged as the birthplace of whitewater in the US. This year’s event again serves as US National Freestyle Kayak Championships. As usual, expect past, present and future Olympians, world and national champs to compete such as reigning World Freestyle Champ and former slalom Olympian Eric Jackson, other Olympic slalom specialists such as Scott Shipley and Corey Nielson, the Lacy family of downriver specialists.
1949 First downriver race, 57 miles, Salida to Cañon City; 7 hours, 18 minutes
1951 Race is shortened from 57 to current length of 26 miles, Salida to Cotapaxi, winning time 2:56
1953 First slalom race ever held in North America; introduced by German World Champion Whitewater boater Erich Seidel who also won the downriver that year
1954 American Canoe Association sanctions the slalom race; first women compete
1955 First Hooligan Race, anything that floats and isn’t a boat is started
1959 FIBArk hosts first US Whitewater National Championships; first Salida man wins, Laurence “Campy” Campton, 2:23
1976 First Downriver Whitewater Raft Race
1989 First Endo competition, precursor to freestyle
2000 First true freestyle competition, a battle of the titans between Eric Jackson & Clay Wright
2006 First Annual Pine Creek Boater Cross race; FIBArk named US National Freestyle Kayaking Championship event
Hooligan Race
No mention of FIBArk would be complete without a nod to the Hooligan Race, the undisputed crowd heavyweight favorite event. A water-resistant floating cardboard derby, teams build “boats” of substances ranging from inner tubes to couches, kegs, scrap lumber and anything than can be encouraged to float by the application of hardware, bailing wire and duct tape. Announcers egg on the bloodthirsty crowd that packs both banks of the Arkansas as it flows through downtown. The crowd roars its approval as their insatiable appetite for carnage is quenched by the spectacle of home-brewed craft and crew attempting to survive both playholes, the abutments and occasionally lower than expected clearance of the F Street bridge as well as the detritus and swimmers from previous ill-fated floats.
MG
