Jack Wright had a reputation.
Traveling between the rivers of Appalachians in his custom vans, tossing several boats from the top of the roof, Jack had a reputation for being an eccentric fellow. And on the river, he had a reputation for adventure through misadventure; finding himself in odd spots and somehow coming out ok on the other side.
As he sat, stuck in the hole that now bears his name, Jack thought to himself “this is gonna be bad.” As far as he knew, every swim on the Upper Yough was bad news. He had heard several stories of cracked and lost boats, lost paddles, and bruising swims. As he pulled the skirt from his boat, he was sure he would be adding to those tales.