Patton’s Run

Patton’s Run

by Alton Chewning

a Carolina Paddler article

∞ Like many young men from North Carolina, Charlie Patton was called to serve in World War II. After the war, Patton came home to Brevard and found work as a postman, one of the few jobs suited to a veteran with a damaged arm. He soon began moonlighting at nearby summer camps, teaching the boys and girls how to paddle. The one-armed Patton was a gifted instructor and a mentor to scores of young boaters.

∞∞∞

A novice paddler, new to the Nantahala, gets ready to put in at the Wayah Road access…

Wow, there are lots of people here. I wonder if I have the right clothes. Those rafters have nothing on but swimsuits. The kayakers are all padded and helmeted. They look like Knights of the Round Table, ready for a joust.  Wonder if I should have long sleeves?

Walking from the parking lot to the concrete put-in, the air cools noticeably.  So does my enthusiasm. I’m getting a little nervous. 

Okay, we pull out. Right away I see the river is going downhill fast.  The water on my hands is cold, very cold. Keep paddling. Did they say go right?  Or left?  Damn, our group is breaking up, some going each way.  I’ll go right.

The water is picking up speed. I wish we’d stopped at Patton’s Overlook to scout. The break-up in the water ahead must be the rapid. Uh-oh, look out, rocks. Missed that one–here’s another. Bang!, I’m going sideways, oh shoot, I’m going over. 

The water is fast. The rocks are hard. My roll is off. Pull the skirt and I’m in the water. In less than one minute on the river, I’m swimming. And it’s cold.

Welcome to Patton’s Run.

∞∞∞

The Nantahala River is one of the most popular rivers in the country. Hundreds of thousands of people visit the river every year and some try their hand at paddling the chilly waters.  For many the Nantahala is their first introduction to Class III rapids. There are two on the river, the classic Nantahala Falls at the bottom and the abrupt Patton’s Run at the top.

Patton’s Run is a river-wide broken ledge about a quarter mile down from the put-in. The gradient for the entire Lower Nantahala averages 36 fpm. In that first quarter mile above Patton’s, the gradient is steeper.

There are two common ways to successfully navigate Patton’s. The first is to run the river right side. The river curves to the right at Patton’s and paddlers hug close to the shore avoiding a big rock on the outside of the bend.  The difficulty is smaller rocks are scattered about and the water if often shallow. For someone not prepared, banging on the rocks can lead to a tumble.

The other route, the Creek line,  is river left, maybe fifteen feet off the left bank.  A four or five foot notch in the ledge leads to a smooth drop below. Above the drop, a rock provides a useful eddy to set up for the notch.  Many prefer to keep going and hit the notch without delay.

Below the drop is a recovery pool on the left, at the base of the walkway from the Patton’s Run Overlook.  The Overlook has parking and a good footpath down to the water. If one is unsure of Patton’s, a scout from this Overlook can be helpful. If paddlers aren’t ready for a Class II+ rapid right out of the gate, then putting in at the Overlook, just below Patton’s Run, is a more accomodating start to a good run on the Nantahala.

What’s in the name?

The website, Rapid Origins, says this about rapid names, “They can cement a legacy, capture horrific failure, and even foretell their creator’s future.”

Several rapid-naming traditions are upended at Patton’s Run. In many cases, the possessive apostrophe is dropped in river and rapid names.  Grumpys on Ocoee often has no apostrophe. Wilson Creek and Suddy Hole on Big Laurel have no apostrophe or “s”.  A few miles below Patton’s on the Nantahala is another rapid, Delabars Rock. Delabar’s is sometimes spelled with an apostrophe, sometimes not.

Delabars Rock reveals another naming convention. The rapid is named for John DeLabar. DeLabar was in charge of the paddling program at Camp Mondamin, a boys camp with lofty credentials for producing world class canoeists. One day Delabar famously wrecked his wood and canvas canoe on a large triangle rock just below the Ferebee access. Miffed and wanting redemption, Delabar commandeered another vessel from a student and promptly broached it on the same rock.

As with Delabar’s Rock, having a rapid as your namesake is not always a title of honor.  Dennis Huntley grumbles about Huntley’s Retreat on Wilson being named for him. A rafter whose name we won’t mention unintentionally contributed naming rights to Miller’s Folly on the New River.

On the other hand, rapids are sometimes named for distinctive runs made by bold paddlers. Sweet’s Falls, on the Upper Gauley, was christened in honor of John Sweet, who in 1968 became the first to successfully manage the difficult fifteen-foot drop.

Other rapids have names reflecting a blend of sarcasm and homage. Frank Bell’s on the French Broad, Section IX, is a prime example.  Bell, the founder of Camp Mondamin, and a pioneer on many rivers, was paddling the French Broad when he and a camper were caught in a rapid that ended in a keeper hydraulic. The camper was washed free, but Frank was sucked deep into the hole and held for a near-eternity.  Like all paddlers of the era, Frank was not wearing a life vest. He attributed his escape from the vortex to not having a PFD encumbering his swimming. Throughout his life, Frank would never wear a life vest–even when the Park Service mandated the practice.

Frank would later say the rapid known by his name, what we call Frank Bell’s, is not the hydraulic that held him. It was another rapid above there, one changed by the building of several small dams. So, the enigma of Frank Bell’s on FB9 swirls with uncertainty. Tribute, put-down, or a case of mistaken identity, Frank Bell’s remains the most difficult rapid on the French Broad.

So, how did Patton’s Run come by its title?  The Carolina Canoe Club had a hand in the naming.  For many years, this drop was called First Rapid, not a particularly inspired name. The first president of the CCC, Bob Brenner, was working on a guidebook of western North Carolina rivers. He felt the rapid deserved a better name and his friend, Charlie Patton, deserved recognition. Benner is credited with naming many rapids, including Quarter Mile on the Nolichucky, Stairstep on the Big Laurel and Big Pillow on the French Broad.

Benner knew Charlie Patton had introduced many young people to whitewater and had advanced the sport through them. Charlie merited a place carrying his name. Benner canvased members of the Carolina Canoe Club about the idea and the support was widespread. The non-descript First Rapid became Patton’s Run.

Benner originally gave the rapid a more involved name, “Patton’s Pool and Run”, a moniker befitting a billiards parlor. Paddlers like short hand and Patton’s Run stuck. Benner offers one more note on Charlie Patton, “He passed on later in the day following a trip down his beloved river.”

With the popularity of the Nantahala and the prevalence there of novices on their first challenging paddle, Patton’s Run could be the national leader in first-time flips, swims and rolls. Charlie would probably smile at the thought of so many new devotees being baptized in the chilly waters of the Nantahala.

References

Thanks to Will Leverette for his indispensable book on early whitewater boating in the Carolinas, A History of Whitewater Paddling In Western North Carolina, subtitled “Water Wise”. Arcadia Publishing.

Leverette also gave valuable notes and corrections in phone conversations on July 24 ad 25, 2026.

Payson Kennedy, a founder of the Nantahala Outdoor Center, wrote a very detailed article on early paddlers in the Carolina mountains:  “River Exploration in the Southern Appalachians”. The article can be found in the book, First Descents, by Cameron O’Connor and John Lazenby. Published by Menosha Ridge Press.

The website, Rapid Origins, contains background information on how many rapids acquired their names.  https://rapidorigins.wordpress.com/about/

Thanks to Bob Brenner for a good suggestion. The new name, Patton’s Run, first appeared in Benner’s guidebook.  Carolina Whitewater, by Bob Benner, fifth edition, Menosha Ridge Press.

And to Charlie Patton and his namesake run for keeping us alert and humble.