Treading the floodwaters at Broadway and Canyon. These two boys almost swam under the bridge, and turned back when the crowd screamed at them, saying they would surely drown. They probably would have, as the creek was flowing at over 5,000 cfs (up from the normal 100-300 cfs).
This bridge was shaking from the force of the water hitting it.
North Boulder Park was North Boulder Lake for a few days, and these college kids played in it despite warnings of sewage contamination.
North Boulder. Somber on Friday evening during the flood.
Another home lost in Salina, a mountain town that was hit devastatingly hard.
Just off of Baseline Road. The house this chair sits in front of had a basement with nearly eight feet of mud in it—we got really dirty that day.
Salina. This home was later demolished.
The image that gave me to idea for Knee Deep's title. Fitting, I believe, for a film about jumping in and taking action.
Four Mile Canyon, the day after the rain stopped.
Four Mile. This house has 2-4 feet of mud in it, and last time I checked was still in a creek that had moved.
Ashley Clark, Mudslinger. This mud-splattered beauty became one of the faces of the Slingers' as this photo was published half a dozen times.
The day a motley crew of friends somehow shifted into some bigger.
Tim Nickles, one of the leaders of the Mudslingers, wrapping up the day. We helped somewhere between 10-12 houses that day, one of our fiurst as a crew.
The lovely Ali Vagnini.
Left Hand Canyon. This house was struck by a massive mudslide (the owner was later featured on the Today Show along with yours truly) but was somehow still left standing.
Left Hand Canyon—where the road ends.
Sometimes I wondered where the zombies were—the roads were empty, apocalyptic.
Mudslingers gathering for the morning debrief under Trada's garage (which they graciously lent us).
Jamestown. The mountain communities were hit incrediobly hard.
The remains of an art studio in Jamestown.
Sand filled this home halfway—I don't know that it was recovered.
Building a berm late at night after a water redirection upstream caused new flooding in homes already somewhat cleaned up.
Mud, sand, rocks, Everywhere.
Our first day to Jamestown.
Community means everyone. It was heartening to see people of all ages come out to help in any way they could.
This house slid backwards into a creek—it was crazy being in there.
Isaac Savitz brought us into the mountains, and made so much possible, such as organizing a small crew to help Kathleen move some of her belongings from her home that had tipped over.
Erik Cummings digging out the old outhouses at the Salina School.
In front of the former Salina Cafe.
Anne Brady and Virginia Beatty share a moment at the end of a long day of digging.
We tried to move this car but it was far too heavy. Dirt weighs a lot, as it turns out.
Sarah Leone digs, looking for lost parts of a stove. She came out a lot despite being displaced by the flood and having lost a lot of her own belongings.
Tim Nickles and Ben Alexandra directing the dubious move of some of these vehicles.
This dog wanted to play fetch, but I took a photo of him instead.
The Salina Cafe.
The water mark was high in this bedroom. Everything in this house was a total loss.
Another lost home in Salina.
The church in Salina miraculously survived, despite over half the foundation being washed away. This is the temporary one that was installed—when I first got up there just two pine trees held it up.
Our very official car badge things.
Ben Alexandra putting his muscles to good use.
Cecily Runge loves juice and muddy crawlspaces.
And on into the winter we went, until snow and ice shut the work down.
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