Kahle Jennings, Centralia Washington
June 2017
“Kahle, have you ever been on a whitewater rafting trip?”
That is the question that started this all… the story of how a 66-year old introvert facing imminent retirement finds peace with himself among 19 people he didn’t know on the Rogue River.
I’ve always been fairly comfortable in and around the water. I’m healthy, a pretty good swimmer and occasional scuba diver. I’ve body surfed, fished for halibut and salmon offshore in a small boat, and was on a 50-mile canoe trip as a pre-teen in Florida. But my only experience with whitewater has been fly fishing on small streams and recovering in the surf breaks after I repeatedly fell off of a surfboard when I tried to learn to surf. I just never got around to trying rafting. But I do know that water is unforgiving and can hurt you bad. On this trip I discovered just what I have been missing!
The question at the beginning of this was posed by Van McKay after a Friday night social dance in Centralia. Van, Denise and I take ballroom dancing lessons. I’m in the beginner class and they are my inspiration because they are in the intermediate class and they really know some moves! This is Unusual Circumstance #1 – an introvert taking up ballroom dancing! But being an introvert doesn’t mean being anti-social, it just means that I need some time alone to recharge after being social.
Van explained that they were part of a group that takes a traditional rafting trip each spring on the Rogue River in Oregon and this year they still had some openings for passengers on the May 19-22 trip – Unusual Circumstance #2.
Unusual Circumstance #3 – quickly saying “Yes.” I consider myself somewhat adventuresome, but three days on a river rafting trip with people I don’t know challenged the introvert in me. Van said I could ride with them on their raft for the first day. “That’s very generous” I thought, “But what about the second, third and fourth days?” The situation seemed just a little bit ambiguous so it took a bit of faith to jump in and say “Yes” calculating that this important detail would work itself out.
The drive down was long and uneventful with the mandatory stop for ice cream at Rice Hill. Galice Resort just west of Grant’s Pass was our gathering point. The staff were friendly, the food good and the bed was welcome. I don’t think you could find 19 finer people than those that were on this trip. As people arrived on Thursday evening and Friday morning I observed many hugs of welcome as you commonly see among old friends. Every one of them treated me as a welcome guest.
The next morning after obtaining our permits we met just below the Grave Creek Bridge at the upstream beginning of the wild-and-scenic section of the Rogue River. There were 7 OWA members, 4 WRRR members as well as family and friends. We filled the eight rafts and the single inflatable kayak with an extraordinary amount of “stuff”. As this was a lodge trip we didn’t need any camping supplies.
As we unloaded and set up the raft I had to quickly learn some new terminology. I already knew about “PFD” “dry bag” and the difference between an “oar” and a “paddle. ”So far, so good I thought. “Self bailing raft”, “Cat-Raft” and “IK” however, were all new to me. I had a general sense that there were different “classes” of rapids and knew that they become more difficult as the numbers get higher, but I didn’t really know what the differences were. I learned about “flip ropes”, “throw ropes” and eventually what a “groover” was, why it is important and why it was named that! On the drive down I explained to Van and Denise that “If there is something you want me to do, tell me. Otherwise I am going to stay out of your way.” That understanding worked well throughout the trip, though I hope I learned to anticipate what was needed and didn’t always wait to be asked.
I have to spend a minute talking about the inspiration for this trip. Ric Buhr was a rafter and guide. I never met him but I heard someone say that along with his whitewater skills his people skills were what got him through life. It’s clear that Ric was loved dearly by many people. Ric died from breast cancer several years ago and since then the Ric Buhr Memorial Float was organized and has been sustained by his family at his request and in his memory. At the beginning of the trip, a welcome was given explaining the significance of this event and at Marial Lodge an emotional evening toast was made to him with Dead Guy Ale from Rogue Ales. I can tell from the stories that never meeting Ric is my loss.
The first thing you see looking downstream is the Grave Creek Riffle (class III). After introductions and a safety briefing by our group leader it was time to shove off! As we approached Grave Creek Riffle my first thought was “The name is ominous but this doesn’t look so bad”, and it really wasn’t. But it was a good chance for Denise, my front row seatmate and rafting guide throughout the trip, to educate me on how we should link arms to keep each other steady and in the raft. This was a technique used repeatedly over the next several days with good results.
We made it past the riffle and Grave Creek Falls (under water at the approximately 5,000 cfs flow we experienced). The first real test was the fish ladder at Class IV Rainie Falls. Everyone made it through, though there were some interesting unintentional variations on how to do it! We also experienced Tyee and Wildcat rapids that day. Black Bar Lodge was a welcome sight after several hours on the river. The staff was friendly and very accommodating.
On day two we made a mid-day lunch stop at Zane Grey’s cabin, a special treat for me because my dad was an avid reader of his western stories. We also stopped to visit the Rogue River Ranch. Marial Lodge was quite an experience – the owners make it their personal business to ensure their guests’ needs are met. It was obvious to me that this couple LOVES their life, as challenging and difficult as I am sure it is at times. They have been doing this for 30 some years and they give it everything they have.
Day three brought the double challenge of Mule Creek Canyon and Blossom Bar. Both were scouted before anyone attempted them. Our raft was near the end so I was able to observe several others make the Blossom Bar route and turn the textbook explanation of how to run them into a visual “playbook” inside my head. When it was our time to go it surprised me how quickly it all happened! Van did a great job and our raft made it through without incident just like the others.
Paradise Lodge is the largest of the three at which we stayed. This portion of the river is open to jet boats from downstream so their clientele is much more varied than I expected. I liked the sign at the top of the walkway from the river “There is no such things as strangers, just people we haven’t met yet.”
The highlight of the last day for me was “The General’s Cabin” site and I would like to return and spend a few days to camp there overlooking the river. I only heard rumors of what may have been discussed by its generals during World War II, but I understand how the outstanding setting could lend itself to one’s introspection free of distraction.
Finding peace: it was sometime during this final day on the river as I sat quietly alone enjoying the warm sun and the mesmerizing patterns on the water created by the surface eddies that I finally realized I didn’t need to be afraid of retirement and that I was going to be “OK”. This has been a struggle for me and I think of this happening when and where it did as the final “Unusual Circumstance.”I can’t imagine a better setting!
During our trip the weather was warm and beautiful – a very welcome break for those of us who live north in Washington. We had one of the wettest winters on record. It was almost too warm at times during this float trip but the water temperature was still too cold to voluntarily jump in – cold enough to illicit a gasp when you got doused!
I have saved some space to talk specifically about lunch. If I was feeding myself I would have made the trip on jerky, cheese, dried fruit and granola bars with maybe some instant oatmeal in the mornings. Since this was a “Lodge Trip” breakfast and dinners were provided at our overnight locations and sack lunches were provided for the next day. The first day I learned however that just “getting by on sack lunches” was not even a consideration and I learned just how much of the “stuff” we loaded onto our fleet of rafts existed solely for the purpose of supporting lunch on the river. I doubt as much thought and preparation went into feeding the Roman legions as was put into the mid-day meal on the Rogue! Out came the tables, and the food. No one, however, was allowed to touch anything until their hands were washed in the conveniently provided foot-powered hand-washing station. Everyone joined in for the set up and preparation; if anyone went hungry it was by choice. At one stop we even invited a group of four hard-shell kayakers from Germany to join us. Ric was with us at every stop and if I’m not mistaken the lunches were just another way of remembering his legacy.
As we neared the end of the trip on the last day, Van graciously asked me “Would you like to take a turn at the oars?” I don’t know if he really trusted me, it may be that he knew this far down the river I couldn’t get into too much trouble. As he swapped seats with me I felt honored and managed to not make a fool of myself or damage anything.
This is a Great River! The people in our group were wonderful, we had great weather and I am pretty much convinced I have a new hobby. Thank you Ric, family and friends for this experience! And as an inspiring side note, our group included three 75-year olds, one 79-year old and one 82-year old. All were very capable seasoned rowers – very impressive!
Note: This is an annual float the weekend before Memorial Day weekend. If you want to go on it, keep an eye on the trip calendar; for next year mark your calendar for the May 18th weekend.
I’ll leave you with one of my favorite quotes about the water: “Believe me, my young friend, there is nothing – absolutely nothing – half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats.” Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame