Wild, Wacky, Rubber Raft Ride
By Barclay
It started with all the planning a 20-something wet-behind-the ears guy could muster. The goal: meet my high school friend; raft all day down a river we have never been on. First, I had to get a Saturday off, which wasn't easy, until I added the part about being in his wedding. I was, but this wasn't part of that. Oh well, details. I had the day, good so far. I drove out at 5 a.m. to get to the meeting spot by 7 a.m. The day before, I bought an awesome raft capable of holding about 20 lbs. less than I weighed. Ok, so planning wasn't where it might be. I had packed a lunch the night before as well, good planning! My friend’s wife was at the meeting spot, and noticed our underachieving equipment, and laughed. Fine! But there was more. She made a recommendation to pack our bags in a trash bag in case of water coming into the rafts. Naaaaah, we don't need that. So, we headed out to make the first car drop.
At the drop, we noticed the current. As it turned out, they made an upriver water release the night before and the flow was much higher than we were expecting. Ahhhhh, another chance for planning. Well, with our inflated rafts, inflated bravado, and all the courage of the uneducated, we headed for the second park. We drove 45 minutes north, and unloaded, heading down to the river. Fast water, opening day for fishing, and another missed chance for planning. Rubber rafts and hooks on the end of unbridled fishing energy was not a good scenario ahead of us. We were not going to be denied! Off we went. Floating, albeit fast down the river. As high as the water was, it did not cover the rocks strewn about in the water. Where is the grounds crew to move some of these? 5 minutes in and our butts were very sore from the rock blasts as we passed over one after the other, ooommmpphhh after each one.
One consolation was the myriad of canoe enthusiasts that were in the river with us. Not many fiberglass, mostly aluminum, as it was pointed out, aluminum held up better against this river bottom of rocks, it may dent but not shatter like wood or fiberglass. Ahhh they planned. they didn’t count on the current though either and gave us some chuckles as they would catch a rock under the fore paddler, and stick long enough to quickly turn the boat sideways until he too caught his own rock stopping the poor guys sideways. One after the other, they tipped and spilled everything they owned. We laughed at their demise until we floated out of sight around the bend.
Now a chance to more patiently gawk at the spring leaves, flowering trees, and a blue sky deep like the ocean, dotted with puffy white clouds. The upper portion of the river has so many options from years of changing lanes, little islands formed sending the water into 5 separate channels that all would end up back into one main river flow. Spring birds chirped and sang their songs along the way. The water was clear but quick, moving us downstream merrily along. The first set of diversions we took the same lane. The next one, we took separate ones viewing different surroundings. For mine, I got caught in a mini whirlpool as I flowed around the bend, then dropped about 5 feet between the rocks that caused the swirl. Not dizzy from the spin, I did go round a few times before passing through.
When we met up again, his route was just a gentle flow, no problems, rocks or other hazards. Pfft! Mine was more fun then.
It was at this point, I distinctly heard his wife's voice echoing off the jagged rock faces hovering on either side above the river's edge. I heard it say repeatedly; "you you should should put put your your packs packs in in a a trash trash bag bag bag" My friend heard it too. We laughed it off, ya ok. And kept going.
Around the next bend, I saw my friend and then didn't. He dropped out of sight. I next heard him screaming also echoing off of the rocks. #$%#$%^% I thought, wed. thur. fri.? I found out soon enough that this was a waterfall about 8 feet in a big swell that carried me over it with the same results as my friend. My own screams echoing off the same rocks. He was, at that time laughing his ass off watching me flail along trying to control the uncontrollable. The current at this spot was minimal as the water spun in the pool before continuing towards the sea. We decided to have lunch here. We just busted a gut as we opened our bags and found those words of his wife dripping off our waterlogged sandwiches. Being stubborn, we squeezed out what we could, and washed them down.
As we sat, floating, a Baltimore Oriole flew by and landed in a tree. It was the first time I had seen one. It stayed for a few minutes and flew on up the river, heading for its summer retreat. As this bird flew away, a blue heron was seen in the back edge of the pool, long legs sticking out of the water and perfectly still. In a minute its head slowly steadily, dipped toward the water, then it struck its prey. The head diving under the water, in a second, it popped up fish flailing from between the bills of the heron. This was another first. No planning taken for this one, just a matter of terrific timing.
The day floated on bends and turns fishers aiming to catch a raft if they couldn't catch a fish. We paddled through the gauntlet, avoiding any blowouts. A few hours more along the river, the background noise began to rise getting very loud. There was another bend and a put in with real rafts and kayaks putting in. Then was the SIGN.
Olympic white water training site, DO NOT ATTEMPT
OK!
We pulled up to where the put in was and talked with the rafters. After they stopped laughing at our inept and waterlogged toy rafts, they offered us the get out now advice. We thought about going through anyway, after-all what could happen? Then we read the next sign down the river just before the dreaded rapids. It was a changeable number board listing how many water rescues this year. 22.
Ok, sound advice even for us tough to convince folks. We got out at the designated spot and went along the path, down the hill and to the overlook where we gasped at the rush of water raging between the boulders, more boulders along the sides and splitting the middle of the flow. Missed thrill, maybe, but sense of relief at choosing this path. This would likely not have ended well in our toys.
We get to tell the story and move on. And we did. A day a life, still friends, still planning on the fly, still telling stories. And still hearing the echoes of the river, put your lunch in a trash bag!