{"id":21786,"date":"2019-11-26T17:00:04","date_gmt":"2019-11-27T01:00:04","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/community.nrs.com\/?p=21786"},"modified":"2019-12-06T14:11:52","modified_gmt":"2019-12-06T22:11:52","slug":"tricks-and-treats-on-the-wild-and-scenic-rogue-river","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/community.nrs.com\/duct-tape\/2019\/11\/26\/tricks-and-treats-on-the-wild-and-scenic-rogue-river\/","title":{"rendered":"Tricks and Treats on the Wild and Scenic Rogue River"},"content":{"rendered":"

With its walls of busted scree, ridges crooked and gnarly as old spines, and banks lined with twisted oaks draped with more moss than abandoned mansions have cobwebs, Southern Oregon\u2019s Lower Rogue might be the ideal river to run on Halloween weekend. One of the first rivers designated Wild and Scenic under the Wild and Scenic Rivers Act of 1968, the Rogue is an unpredictable, rich, and knobby stretch of whitewater. The flatwater sections catch rafters gawking at the lush, Jurassic Park-esque scenery before whipping them into slot canyons tighter than a wetsuit and roiling with more holes than a boiling caldron.<\/p>\n

This river might be nature\u2019s veritable haunted house, and who better equipped to navigate such tricks and serene treats than a mess of haughty, bawdy rafters with a sweet tooth for northwest rivers?<\/p>\n

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The first night, we camp at the Almeda put-in, and despite a bright and clear dawn, I wake to thin film of frozen dew across my rain fly. The forecast calls for a high between 60 and 70. If the days are holding on to summer, the nights are definitely ceding to late fall. The Rogue is already keeping us on our toes. I slip into a drysuit, stuff shorts and a gaggle of layers in my Bill\u2019s Bag and hop in a raft.<\/p>\n

In its spooky fashion, the Wild and Scenic section begins below Hellgate Canyon at the confluence of Grave Creek (I\u2019m not making this stuff up), named for Martha Leland Crowley, a 16-year old woman who died of typhus while her family traveled the Oregon Trail back in 1846. We pass under a bridge with high arches like a gothic cathedral. A faded sign mounted to its piers states we need our permits to go any farther.<\/p>\n

After a series of riffles and floating a mile or two, the Rogue welcomes us with the biggest rapid of this section. Rainie Falls is a Class IV+, where the channel splits between three runs. Behind door number 1, a man-blasted fish ladder descends in gradual but rocky steps; behind door number 2, a narrow chute rushes down several narrow tiers; behind door number 3, most water cascades over the 12-foot falls. We opt for door number 2.<\/p>\n

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Adam running Rainie Falls.<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

The approach to the chute is narrow and easily missed, with rocks on river right and the falls on river left. Just before entering, some water veers sideways over the falls. This is when we discover how low and bony the Rogue really is. We\u2019re hauling the kitchen (with food), several packs and miscellaneous supplies for our crew, so we sit pretty heavy. As we approach, we bump some prankster rock just beneath the surface and a short distance from the shoot. Our precarious butt swings parallel to the channel and the sideways flow tugs us to the precipice of Rainie\u2014where we stop, hung up on more rocks.<\/p>\n

So there we are, Amanda, her brother Cheese, and I, in limbo on our first trip down the Rogue. On the one hand, we must sit and contemplate the total carnage of running a Class V sideways. On the other, we have one of the most unique views in whitewater, sitting safe(ish) on the rim of a waterfall like three ospreys on a snag. Luckily, we travel with a group of nimble kayakers\u2014Ashley, Adam, and Clint. Adam already ran the falls, so he jogs back upriver. Ashley and Clint paddle wide, eddying out just above the fish ladder. They toss us a rope. With some group tugs, using a boulder for leverage, we pop backwards off the rocks and drift toward the shoot, throw the oars, and down we go.<\/p>\n

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After an eventful first day, and only six or seven miles behind us, we take an early evening at Tyee. While Aaron and Laura bake a thick Dutch Oven lasagna and some peanut butter brownies, we inflate the sofa. (You know, the usual.)<\/p>\n

The evening is clear and crisp. Fireside, we laugh about our Rainie hang-up and the fact that we slackers have a 20-mile day of paddling tomorrow to make up for our short day today. In the meantime, Laura somehow manages to wear more Parmesan cheese than the lasagna. At dusk, a great blue heron loops over camp, ending Halloween with an eerie cackle from his gaunt, snaky neck. Clint looks on, clad in his practical costume: a Captain America extra-extra-large children\u2019s sleeping bag.<\/p>\n