My first Rafting trip on the Kern River (Class I-III)
My friend Kat told me rafting was on her short list of things she has never tried but wanted to. I was tickled by Kats’ sense of adventure, and I know better than to ruminate too long when my friends flash their adventurous streak. I booked it while we were excited about it. I assembled the band of willing-to-try its and we arranged to drive the 5 hours from San Diego to the southern most assessable rafting adventure: The Kern River, lovingly called The Death Kern. I actually thought I would feel pretty lukewarm about it. I thought it would be one of those adrenaline junkie pursuits that came with long periods of boredom punctuated with quick fleeting moments of artificial (actually safe) excitement. I envisioned something similar to a rollercoaster ride, bungee jumping, or sky diving. I changed my tune very fast, of course. As soon as I saw the water, I found myself in gigglefits over a majestic gushing river introducing a whole new world of adventure I have never anticipated before.
We drove up in 3 cars after work on a Friday. I always work later than I think I will on Fridays, so we drove through the beautiful Sequoia forest in the pitch darkness. Kat arrived before me at the campsite and had some unexpected camp host drama at Tillie Creek. Our reservations were not honored despite my efforts to painstakingly book online and pay a premium for the privilege. We were told when we got there that the campsites were actually first come first serve, and that we were going to be charged for the second and third car on top of that. The camp host had taken some major liberties on the interpretation of the rules. He was especially lenient on the quiet hours after 10pm rule. Several campsites blasted music into the early morning. To avoid the music, my dear friend Kat tried to find a campsite a distance away, but was unfortunately near the freeway. I wore earplugs, but was startled awake every time a late night car zoomed past. I was very unhappy camping near the road. That evening I walked over to Lake Isabella to gaze upon the reason I booked this campsite, and also observed that half the campsites were closed. These were the glamping campsites too, the ones close to the lake. I was a bit embarrassed because this was the first time I camped with my girls Kat and Kasey, and I frankly wanted to show them a good time. This was further stymied by the fact that the no fires rule prevented us from creating our dutch oven Lasagna the way we had planned. How is this better than dispersion camping? I do not know. Okay, I am done complaining.
The next morning we drove half a mile from our campsites to Kern River Outfitters where we were fitted with our personal flotation devices and helmets. They kindly offered me a helmet that had a gopro mount. We then boarded an adult childrens’ school bus to the river mounting point. It is at the river where we got to haul our own coolers full of food, rafts, and other safety equipment to the water line. It was frankly more work than I thought a guiding trip would have. I thought paying a few hundred dollars for a day with a rafting company meant that we would be served mixed drinks poolside all day, but I was wrong.
As soon as we were splashed with cold water for the first time I was taken aback with joy. The river was serene, and the adventure to exertion ratio was incredibly high. My friends and I were working as a team, spending the whole day outside, and having just enough excitement to keep the day interesting. The up-to-class-III rapids definitely left some excitement to be admired, but that didn’t prevent me from free-basing joy. I saw the difference in skill level even among the guides, and realized that there was a lot to learn here.
We did more than just rafting. We got out of the raft and swam, floating feet up through the still moving water. We also jumped off of tall rocks in the water. For lunch we hung out on a secluded raft in beach surrounded by distant free range cattle. I saw a bob cat. We got stuck on a rock at one point for a surf lesson.
I was still bursting with energy at the end of the day. This was type 1 fun. The river was refreshing. The guides joked with us and people pulled my leg a little to explore the extent of my gullibility (read: quite gullible). I laughed unabashedly almost constantly.
Footage of a raft flip
That evening we went back to our campsite, moved our tents away from the road, and proceeded to drink beers and bask in the hot weather while making poor-boy lasagna over our coleman stove. It was one of the more memorable weeks I will have this summer, I’m sure.
Many days later I still feel like I am floating. Sure, it was a fun way to spend the day outdoors, but its so much more than that. The possibilities have my mind racing. I can piece together multiple day trips this way. I can explore grand untouched wilderness this way. I can float 150 miles of untouched Alaska Wilderness this way. I can go further and longer rafting than I could with a pack on my back or attached to a rope. This experience opened up a whole new world of adventure to me that set my heart on fire. (How come no one ever told me about this before?!) I don’t want to just go on day long excursions with my hand held by a knowledgeable guide. I want to take a raft into the back country on my own. This experience gave me more than just a fun day with the girls. it gave me hope for a more incredible future than I have ever let myself dream. This fleeting feeling of excitement for the future, well, ch-yeah, that’s the pull through, man. This is what makes life worth living.
