Whitewater - Day 1

Most readers of this blog know me, at least to some extent. You know that I like to try new things, go new places, meet new people and have exciting new adventures. You also know that I've been doing all those things lately and so am probably not easily impressed. Having said that, let me tell you that whitewater rafting is cool. It's really, really cool. I am so hooked that I'm already planning how I will make space in my busy life to get back out there on some chilly, fast moving water.

Marcus and I were both Whitewater virgins and nervous as well as excited. The key to a good first rafting experience is having a good guide. We rafted with a company called All Outdoors and were lucky enough to have a very skilled and charming guide for our first paddle.

This is Darren, our guide. He is a lovely fellow for whom whitewater rafting is a way to see the world before he settles down and gets a proper job with his formal qualifications in Economics and Spanish language. He's obviously a clever guy, but it's hard to imagine him in a suit and tie. He'll always be all outdoors to me.

Whitewater rafting on the South Fork of the American River is mostly peaceful paddling on quiet water, interspersed with dramatic bursts of vigorous activity and rushing water. The leg of the river that we travelled was a combination of Class II and III rapids, an appropriate starting point for active beginners. From the Wikipedia entry:

"Class 2: Some rough water, maybe some rocks, small drops, might require maneuvering. (Skill Level: Basic Paddling Skill)
Class 3: Whitewater, medium waves, maybe a 3-5 ft drop, but not much considerable danger. May require significant maneuvering. (Skill Level: Experienced paddling skills)."

We were inexperienced, but game, so when Darren asked for volunteers to sit up front and take the big waves we were quick to raise our hands. That's us at the pointy end of the raft. Obviously, we're getting quite wet. Not so obviously, we were also getting extremely cold. It was a long time before I could feel all my toes again. It was, however, totally worth it. I have more toes than I really need anyway.

Does it look like we're having fun? We were both doing the traditional smiley pose for this shot on the raft when one of our crew members suggested that we make scared faces, as if a giant wave was coming towards us. Apparently Marcus was a little slower to express fake terror. I guess he didn't have a chance to workshop his motivation. I love this picture.

Darren took extremely good care of us both on the raft and off. He even taught us how to make an "everything sandwich," including salad, vegetables, condiments, spreads and even cookies as filling on one fat and impractical sandwich. I watched in amazement as he constructed this lunch monster and he generously offered me a bite. I accepted, despite the obvious logistical difficulties. I somehow managed to mash part of it into my mouth, and a lot more of it onto my face. That taste was sufficiently delicious that I immediately started constructing an "everything sandwich" of my own. Marcus had one too.

At lunch we said goodbye to one of our crew who had taken a little tumble overboard about an hour before we stopped for lunch. He thought perhaps he'd bruised a couple of ribs and didn't want to paddle for the rest of the afternoon. His wife decided to paddle on and come back to pick him up later.

The afternoon stretch was more peaceful. We even swam a little in the icy water. We also played "dink," a game in which we all had a chance to guide the raft, with varying degrees of success. The snoozing birds in the photo above were just too tempting. Darren, with my encouragement, slapped his paddle flat on the water to startle them with a resounding smack. The result was profoundly disappointing. They all opened their eyes, looked around for about a second, then went straight back to sleep.

We hauled the raft out of the water at our campsite about six hours after we put in several miles up the river. I was tired, shivering, bruised and totally addicted. The other young couple jumped in their car and disappeared while Darren and the other woman went off to pick up the casualty of water whom we had abandoned at lunchtime. None of us were too worried about the guy. After all, he'd fallen out in a quiet stretch of water and he'd paddled for another hour after we hauled him back in. We figured he was just being a wimp. Darren would return to cook us dinner later in an hour or so. This trip is a full service experience and our guide was a combination of teacher, bodyguard, slave and best friend for almost 24 hours.

When Darren returned he really was our private slave, because Marcus and I were the only two survivors of our six person crew. Turns out the guy who had fallen out of the raft wasn't a wimp, he was a superhero. He had cracked four ribs and had fluid starting to build up in his lungs. He was definitely out of action and his wife was driving him home. Ooops.

They missed out on a great dinner. Darren is a master of outdoor cooking and he takes pride in both the product and the presentation. I was particularly impressed by his dutch oven brownies, cooked perfectly by the careful placement of hot coals in a precise star formation below and above the oven. I wish I'd taken notes. That brownie and glass of milk was one of the highlights of an already brilliant day.

While we ate our brownies and drank our milk, Darren set up a slide show of the professional photos taken from an outpost near one of the rapids. It was a lovely way to end the day. It was also a valuable lesson in the importance of taking the laptop everywhere. When we briefly ducked over to the photograph company down the road to order a couple of prints Darren asked us to drop back the camera memory chips from which he had put on the slide show. If I'd had my laptop we could have copied all the pics and not just the ones we decided to buy. Oh well, I'll always have the memories, and the lingering taste of Darren's outdoor brownie magic.

Wherever you are Darren, I hope you're getting some great rapids. You're the best. Look me up when you make it to Sydney, when it will be my turn to slice up fruit for your breakfast.