Day One - Argo to Windy Creek
By the time September rolled around I had almost forgotten that Steve had
invited me to paddle the Rogue, and I was pleasantly surprised when his email
about the trip came through. The plan was to leave Friday night, camp at the
put in, and launch early on Saturday. Even though the stretch of river we
planned on paddling was only 34 miles long we planned on taking three days
to make the run so we could enjoy the sights, relax, and not worry about the
long flatwater stretches between some of the rapids. Although our canoes
would make paddling the quiet stretched much more bearable, we would also
be scouting more frequently than rafters or kayakers.
I ended up having a busy week and packing turned into a last minute affair
featuring me running around the house frantically searching for random
pieces of gear. Somehow Michelle put up with my search and even helped me
gather a few stray items. By the time I had to leave to meet the others at Steve’
s I had somehow scrapped together the essential items. The weather forecast
for the weekend was absolutely perfect, with high temperatures predicted to
be above 90 and lows in the upper 40s and a zero percent chance of rain.
This made packing easy and even if I forgot some items it was unlikely to
matter much anyways.
Everyone was at Steve’s shortly after seven and my eight we were on our way
south to the put in at Argo on the Rogue River just upstream of the Wild and
Scenic section. The drive only takes a little over two hours, but it brings you to
a landscape far different from that found in the dense fir forests found around
Eugene. Low elevation forests in southern Oregon are full of oaks, madrone,
Manzanita, and fir trees growing together in a diverse and interesting
landscape. Summers are warmer, winters are drier, and the difference is
profound.
Once we turned off of the interstate the narrow one lane back road wound
mercilessly as we wove through the broken hills of the northern edge of the
Siskyou Mountains. The headlights of the Blazer lit up the hardwood trees and
in many ways gave the feeling of driving through the hills of western North
Carolina. After a half hour we began snaking along a steep walled gorge and
eventually reached the turnout for Argo, our launch site on the Rogue. A
bright, nearly full moon showed ample flat areas for spending the night at the
far end of the gravel parking lot. Only one other vehicle was here and the
rushing sound of the Rogue helped lull us to sleep.
By morning the temperature had dipped enough so I was eager to throw on an
extra layer of clothes when getting up at first light. Our shuttle driver would be
here around 9:00 am and we wanted to make sure that everything was packed
and organized before they came. Steve and Mark drove off to the visitor’s
center to register for our trip and obtain the group’s permits, while the rest of
us assembled the gear and rigged for the river. By the time they returned the
vehicles were unpacked and everyone was mostly packed up for the trip. I
decided to not bother with a warm breakfast and I made up my oatmeal with
some cold water. This sounds strange, but the instant oatmeal actually tastes
better this way in my opinion. The others boiled up some water while I walked
around and finished rigging the canoe for whitewater.
invited me to paddle the Rogue, and I was pleasantly surprised when his email
about the trip came through. The plan was to leave Friday night, camp at the
put in, and launch early on Saturday. Even though the stretch of river we
planned on paddling was only 34 miles long we planned on taking three days
to make the run so we could enjoy the sights, relax, and not worry about the
long flatwater stretches between some of the rapids. Although our canoes
would make paddling the quiet stretched much more bearable, we would also
be scouting more frequently than rafters or kayakers.
I ended up having a busy week and packing turned into a last minute affair
featuring me running around the house frantically searching for random
pieces of gear. Somehow Michelle put up with my search and even helped me
gather a few stray items. By the time I had to leave to meet the others at Steve’
s I had somehow scrapped together the essential items. The weather forecast
for the weekend was absolutely perfect, with high temperatures predicted to
be above 90 and lows in the upper 40s and a zero percent chance of rain.
This made packing easy and even if I forgot some items it was unlikely to
matter much anyways.
Everyone was at Steve’s shortly after seven and my eight we were on our way
south to the put in at Argo on the Rogue River just upstream of the Wild and
Scenic section. The drive only takes a little over two hours, but it brings you to
a landscape far different from that found in the dense fir forests found around
Eugene. Low elevation forests in southern Oregon are full of oaks, madrone,
Manzanita, and fir trees growing together in a diverse and interesting
landscape. Summers are warmer, winters are drier, and the difference is
profound.
Once we turned off of the interstate the narrow one lane back road wound
mercilessly as we wove through the broken hills of the northern edge of the
Siskyou Mountains. The headlights of the Blazer lit up the hardwood trees and
in many ways gave the feeling of driving through the hills of western North
Carolina. After a half hour we began snaking along a steep walled gorge and
eventually reached the turnout for Argo, our launch site on the Rogue. A
bright, nearly full moon showed ample flat areas for spending the night at the
far end of the gravel parking lot. Only one other vehicle was here and the
rushing sound of the Rogue helped lull us to sleep.
By morning the temperature had dipped enough so I was eager to throw on an
extra layer of clothes when getting up at first light. Our shuttle driver would be
here around 9:00 am and we wanted to make sure that everything was packed
and organized before they came. Steve and Mark drove off to the visitor’s
center to register for our trip and obtain the group’s permits, while the rest of
us assembled the gear and rigged for the river. By the time they returned the
vehicles were unpacked and everyone was mostly packed up for the trip. I
decided to not bother with a warm breakfast and I made up my oatmeal with
some cold water. This sounds strange, but the instant oatmeal actually tastes
better this way in my opinion. The others boiled up some water while I walked
around and finished rigging the canoe for whitewater.
The shuttle drivers showed up on time and by 9:30 we were dressed for the
river and had the boats ready to launch. The canyon was quite chilly and still in
the shade and I wore neoprene under my board shorts and a fuzzy rubber top
for extra warmth. While the tandem canoe worked on strapping down gear I
pushed off and practiced ferrying back and forth and getting the feel for the
canoe in the easy class I/II rapids next to the Argo launch spot. It felt great to
be back in the canoe and it didn’t take long to get the feel of handling the long
tripping back.
Soon enough we were slowly working our way downstream with Scott, Mark,
and myself paddling solo and Steve and Sarah piloting the tandem boat. We all
took our time while drifting down the first few miles of the river, each person
taking plenty of time to get used to their craft. While playing around in this
stretch of river we were passed by some rafters and caught by a group of
people fishing from drift boats, but our fast canoes ended up quickly passing
these groups within a mile or so. We also spotted a group of deer wandering
up the side of the canyon as the morning sunlight spilled over the ridge and
almost instantly warmed the temperature by fifteen degrees. A few bigger class
II and II+ rapids came within the first couple of miles and gave us the chance to
continue practicing our skills. Since some of the larger rapids of the trip were
supposedly found in the first ten miles of the river, the practice was welcome.
Soon the high bridge over the Rogue at Grave Creek was reached and we
entered the start of the permitted Wild and Scenic portion of the Rogue River.
It looked like several other groups were rigging their boats at the Grave Creek
boat ramp. We were happy that no one was putting on since we were not
interested in getting caught up in the middle of a large group. Just a few yards
below Grave Creek the very first rapid of the trip was reached. At first it looked
river and had the boats ready to launch. The canyon was quite chilly and still in
the shade and I wore neoprene under my board shorts and a fuzzy rubber top
for extra warmth. While the tandem canoe worked on strapping down gear I
pushed off and practiced ferrying back and forth and getting the feel for the
canoe in the easy class I/II rapids next to the Argo launch spot. It felt great to
be back in the canoe and it didn’t take long to get the feel of handling the long
tripping back.
Soon enough we were slowly working our way downstream with Scott, Mark,
and myself paddling solo and Steve and Sarah piloting the tandem boat. We all
took our time while drifting down the first few miles of the river, each person
taking plenty of time to get used to their craft. While playing around in this
stretch of river we were passed by some rafters and caught by a group of
people fishing from drift boats, but our fast canoes ended up quickly passing
these groups within a mile or so. We also spotted a group of deer wandering
up the side of the canyon as the morning sunlight spilled over the ridge and
almost instantly warmed the temperature by fifteen degrees. A few bigger class
II and II+ rapids came within the first couple of miles and gave us the chance to
continue practicing our skills. Since some of the larger rapids of the trip were
supposedly found in the first ten miles of the river, the practice was welcome.
Soon the high bridge over the Rogue at Grave Creek was reached and we
entered the start of the permitted Wild and Scenic portion of the Rogue River.
It looked like several other groups were rigging their boats at the Grave Creek
boat ramp. We were happy that no one was putting on since we were not
interested in getting caught up in the middle of a large group. Just a few yards
below Grave Creek the very first rapid of the trip was reached. At first it looked
line which gave me plenty of time to eddy out on the right so I could walk back
up the shore to take pictures of the others coming down. The others had
good lines as well and we all paddled on with smiles on our faces, pleasantly
surprised that the whitewater seemed like it would be much more fun than we
originally thought.
Shortly downstream bedrock ledges became more visible and a distinct
horizon line was reached again. This drop channeled down on river left and
from above it was clear that a scout would be prudent this time. A quick
clamber along the river right rocks showed a tongue leading into a large
wave train that looked more than capable of swamping our open boats. Still,
a dry line could be run by driving left to right and a large deep pool waited
below in case anyone ended up swimming. Mark ran first and had a nice line
through the meat of the waves and I followed, driving to avoid the biggest
water and finding myself a little surprised by how steep the rapid actually was.
It ended up being very clean and although I took on enough water to warrant
bailing it was not nearly as bad as I had anticipated. The others all followed
once again, with everyone having clean lines and taking on various amounts
of water.
Below this significant rapid the valley opened and the ridges soared
overhead with ledges and rock walls making for a spectacular setting. Since
we are s used to paddling smaller rivers here in Oregon it was great to be
cruising a large waterway complete with warm water and deep currents. We
floated along, enjoying the scenery and making steady progress
downstream. Within two miles we reached another significant horizon line
where the river widened. We knew from our maps and past experience that
this was Raine Falls, a twelve foot sloping class V drop with significant
hydraulics and powerful current. It was unlikely that we would be able to run
either of the two options in the main drop but we wanted to have a look
anyways so we pulled out on river left at a large sandy beach. A well
developed trail led to an overview of the drop and we quickly saw that
bringing a canoe over Raine would not make any sense. We also didn’t feel
like portaging so we decided to check out a man made fish passage that had
been blasted out on river right. Rafters often bounce down this sneak route
and boaters occasionally line their craft down the shallow alternative to the
big drops in the center of the river.
While the other kept scouting I headed back to the canoe and paddled
across to scout out the fish ladder route. I walked down a path matted into
the grass only to see a twisting channel that looked like it was carrying such a
small amount of water that it would pose no harm. I also saw a tiny snake
slither away and I didn’t want to risk stepping on a baby rattler just to have a
better look at this shallow side channel. I headed back to the canoe and
floated into the top of the fish ladder, maneuvering around shallow rocks at
up the shore to take pictures of the others coming down. The others had
good lines as well and we all paddled on with smiles on our faces, pleasantly
surprised that the whitewater seemed like it would be much more fun than we
originally thought.
Shortly downstream bedrock ledges became more visible and a distinct
horizon line was reached again. This drop channeled down on river left and
from above it was clear that a scout would be prudent this time. A quick
clamber along the river right rocks showed a tongue leading into a large
wave train that looked more than capable of swamping our open boats. Still,
a dry line could be run by driving left to right and a large deep pool waited
below in case anyone ended up swimming. Mark ran first and had a nice line
through the meat of the waves and I followed, driving to avoid the biggest
water and finding myself a little surprised by how steep the rapid actually was.
It ended up being very clean and although I took on enough water to warrant
bailing it was not nearly as bad as I had anticipated. The others all followed
once again, with everyone having clean lines and taking on various amounts
of water.
Below this significant rapid the valley opened and the ridges soared
overhead with ledges and rock walls making for a spectacular setting. Since
we are s used to paddling smaller rivers here in Oregon it was great to be
cruising a large waterway complete with warm water and deep currents. We
floated along, enjoying the scenery and making steady progress
downstream. Within two miles we reached another significant horizon line
where the river widened. We knew from our maps and past experience that
this was Raine Falls, a twelve foot sloping class V drop with significant
hydraulics and powerful current. It was unlikely that we would be able to run
either of the two options in the main drop but we wanted to have a look
anyways so we pulled out on river left at a large sandy beach. A well
developed trail led to an overview of the drop and we quickly saw that
bringing a canoe over Raine would not make any sense. We also didn’t feel
like portaging so we decided to check out a man made fish passage that had
been blasted out on river right. Rafters often bounce down this sneak route
and boaters occasionally line their craft down the shallow alternative to the
big drops in the center of the river.
While the other kept scouting I headed back to the canoe and paddled
across to scout out the fish ladder route. I walked down a path matted into
the grass only to see a twisting channel that looked like it was carrying such a
small amount of water that it would pose no harm. I also saw a tiny snake
slither away and I didn’t want to risk stepping on a baby rattler just to have a
better look at this shallow side channel. I headed back to the canoe and
floated into the top of the fish ladder, maneuvering around shallow rocks at
the top and lining up for the steepest sloping ledge near the bottom.
Unfortunately, ended up having the bow grind into a shallow rock which made
the canoe come to a stop. The current on the slide was much more powerful
than I had thought and the canoe was quickly turned broadside and essentially
swept out from under me. I scrambled to stand up on the ledge to avoid being
dragged down the sharp rocks. On shore I ran down the bank and jumped
back into the river to grab the canoe. I tried swimming to shore, but
unfortunately the current grabbed the boat and I ended up swimming with it for
a few hundred yards before Mark was able to help me to shore.
By the time I had drained the canoe and paddled back up towards the base of
Raine the others had started to line their boats around the drop. I climbed a
huge boulder and watched as the canoes were brought around and another
group of rafters approached the falls. A few ran the center line while the others
bounced down the fish ladder channel. Once reunited our crew eddied out and
waited to see if the rafters would be moving faster or slower than us so we
could decide whether to pass or not. While waiting for the traffic to sort itself
out one of the fisherman on river left hooked onto what looked like it was going
to be a large fish. We decided to hang out in the low rock walled canyon to
see what kind of fish was about to be hauled from the deep fast flowing current.
After a long fight the guys netted a large King Salmon that must have weighed
well over twenty five pounds. The massive hooked lower jaw and power of the
fish was apparent even from the opposite side of the river and we all couldn’t
help but think of how impressive the salmon runs of years past have been.
Below Raine a substantial stretch of smooth quick water followed and we
worked our way through the rafters who had become quite spread out. The day
was not downright warm and I jumped out of the canoe for a swim a few times in
the next couple of miles to stay cool. After a relaxing float we reached a river
right beach and stopped for a lunch break and some exploration at Whiskey
Creek.
Above the beach a large flat bench held what was perhaps one of the most
scenic campsites that we came across the entire weekend. The spot is wide
open but there are enough scattered trees that gave us shade while we
enjoyed lunch. I had packed very simple rations for the trip and my peanut
butter bagel sandwich and power bar went quickly but provided more than
enough fuel for the rest of the day. Once everyone finished eating we followed
a well established path back into the woods and slightly uphill to an old
prospector’s cabin that the Forest Service has maintained as a national historic
site. The low roofed cabin was actually rather plush with remnants of an old
solar shower, an outhouse, and ample amenities for a homesteader. Unlike
some of the old ruined cabins found back east, this site had been occupied
continuously from the late 1800’s until sometime in the mid 1970’s when the
last inhabitants passed away.
Many pieces of the cabin’s history remained, making the visit interesting and
worthwhile. While exploring the abandoned cabin I was reminded of how
recently the western United States had been settled and how much had
changed in the scant 100 years that white settlers had inhabited some parts of
this land. The empty cabin also served as a reminder that during the settling of
the west its backcountry was much more inhabited than it is today. One
hundred years ago prospectors and miners would have been a common sight
across the west, but today the vast majority of people live in cities and towns.
Unfortunately, ended up having the bow grind into a shallow rock which made
the canoe come to a stop. The current on the slide was much more powerful
than I had thought and the canoe was quickly turned broadside and essentially
swept out from under me. I scrambled to stand up on the ledge to avoid being
dragged down the sharp rocks. On shore I ran down the bank and jumped
back into the river to grab the canoe. I tried swimming to shore, but
unfortunately the current grabbed the boat and I ended up swimming with it for
a few hundred yards before Mark was able to help me to shore.
By the time I had drained the canoe and paddled back up towards the base of
Raine the others had started to line their boats around the drop. I climbed a
huge boulder and watched as the canoes were brought around and another
group of rafters approached the falls. A few ran the center line while the others
bounced down the fish ladder channel. Once reunited our crew eddied out and
waited to see if the rafters would be moving faster or slower than us so we
could decide whether to pass or not. While waiting for the traffic to sort itself
out one of the fisherman on river left hooked onto what looked like it was going
to be a large fish. We decided to hang out in the low rock walled canyon to
see what kind of fish was about to be hauled from the deep fast flowing current.
After a long fight the guys netted a large King Salmon that must have weighed
well over twenty five pounds. The massive hooked lower jaw and power of the
fish was apparent even from the opposite side of the river and we all couldn’t
help but think of how impressive the salmon runs of years past have been.
Below Raine a substantial stretch of smooth quick water followed and we
worked our way through the rafters who had become quite spread out. The day
was not downright warm and I jumped out of the canoe for a swim a few times in
the next couple of miles to stay cool. After a relaxing float we reached a river
right beach and stopped for a lunch break and some exploration at Whiskey
Creek.
Above the beach a large flat bench held what was perhaps one of the most
scenic campsites that we came across the entire weekend. The spot is wide
open but there are enough scattered trees that gave us shade while we
enjoyed lunch. I had packed very simple rations for the trip and my peanut
butter bagel sandwich and power bar went quickly but provided more than
enough fuel for the rest of the day. Once everyone finished eating we followed
a well established path back into the woods and slightly uphill to an old
prospector’s cabin that the Forest Service has maintained as a national historic
site. The low roofed cabin was actually rather plush with remnants of an old
solar shower, an outhouse, and ample amenities for a homesteader. Unlike
some of the old ruined cabins found back east, this site had been occupied
continuously from the late 1800’s until sometime in the mid 1970’s when the
last inhabitants passed away.
Many pieces of the cabin’s history remained, making the visit interesting and
worthwhile. While exploring the abandoned cabin I was reminded of how
recently the western United States had been settled and how much had
changed in the scant 100 years that white settlers had inhabited some parts of
this land. The empty cabin also served as a reminder that during the settling of
the west its backcountry was much more inhabited than it is today. One
hundred years ago prospectors and miners would have been a common sight
across the west, but today the vast majority of people live in cities and towns.
Without a native population the wild lands have often returned to their
natural state and then some.Still, the Rogue is far from a wilderness. With
up to 120 individuals floating its waters each day during the peak season we
can hardly say that the river provides a true wilderness experience.
However, as I was to come to realize over the course of this 3 day trip, that
didn’t necessarily make the trip any less enjoyable.
After lunch we paddled on, anticipating several names rapids supposedly
rated class III to III+. Since my rough maps printed from the computer were
buried, I decided to not worry about navigation and leave that up to Steve.
This meant that I would just paddle downstream and figure out things as
they came. Besides, I knew enough about the river to know that no major
hazards lay between us and the evening’s camp at Windy Creek.
The first sizeable rapid that I recall came where the river split around an
island and poured out of sight in a left hand bend into what looked like
somewhat ferocious water. After a scout that revealed nothing of the main
line I paddled down a shallow river left sneak, crossed the main current, and
hiked up river right to signal to the others and take some pictures. River
right held some bigger water, but it was completely clean so I gave a thumbs
up to the others. Everyone came through upright, but shipped more water
than they had expected. I think that this was Tyee Rapids and more similar
whitewater was found downstream. Through this section the rapids were
typically ledgy but wide open and with numerous rote options. The next
several sets were boat scouted, generally with the solo boats probing ahead
of the tandem. I was enjoying the relaxed pace and the ability to hop out,
stretch, and take some pictures of the scenery and the whitewater.
natural state and then some.Still, the Rogue is far from a wilderness. With
up to 120 individuals floating its waters each day during the peak season we
can hardly say that the river provides a true wilderness experience.
However, as I was to come to realize over the course of this 3 day trip, that
didn’t necessarily make the trip any less enjoyable.
After lunch we paddled on, anticipating several names rapids supposedly
rated class III to III+. Since my rough maps printed from the computer were
buried, I decided to not worry about navigation and leave that up to Steve.
This meant that I would just paddle downstream and figure out things as
they came. Besides, I knew enough about the river to know that no major
hazards lay between us and the evening’s camp at Windy Creek.
The first sizeable rapid that I recall came where the river split around an
island and poured out of sight in a left hand bend into what looked like
somewhat ferocious water. After a scout that revealed nothing of the main
line I paddled down a shallow river left sneak, crossed the main current, and
hiked up river right to signal to the others and take some pictures. River
right held some bigger water, but it was completely clean so I gave a thumbs
up to the others. Everyone came through upright, but shipped more water
than they had expected. I think that this was Tyee Rapids and more similar
whitewater was found downstream. Through this section the rapids were
typically ledgy but wide open and with numerous rote options. The next
several sets were boat scouted, generally with the solo boats probing ahead
of the tandem. I was enjoying the relaxed pace and the ability to hop out,
stretch, and take some pictures of the scenery and the whitewater.
Eventually we came to a longer rapid that split around an island and started out as a fun
class II/III with some powerful waves and a few obstacles to avoid. Mark and I eddy
hopped our way down this piece of water to a point where the remainder of the rapid
could be seen dropping somewhat steeply around a mid river boulder. The tandem boat
came down on the other side of the island and ended up stopping in a tiny eddy
immediately above the main drop. While they bailed the rest of us finished up the rapid
through some heavier waves and waited in anticipation for the string ferry that Steve and
Sarah would have to make to avoid broaching on a shallow river left rock pile. After a few
contemplative stares they started the move and it was obvious from the start that they
were going to be smashing into the rocks broadside. Sure enough, the canoe broached
and quickly dumped, sending Sarah swimming headfirst down the shallow pile of rocks
and Steve into a somewhat precarious, half entrapped position upstream of the boat.
Luckily the canoe did not pin and after a little tugging everything was back in order. No
gear was lost and aside from a few bumps and bruises everyone was fine.
Not far below this drop we came to a spot that Steve seemed to think was the Windy
Creek camp. A brook empties in on river left and the remnants of a small bench could be
seen so we all hopped out to see if this was our home for the evening. The scouting
mission showed a rocky riverbank with few flat spots and very poor camping prospects. If
this were indeed Windy Creek it certainly had changed since the description in the
guidebook we were using had been written. Luckily there was nothing to worry about
since the maps indicated a multitude of sites downstream that we would be able to reach
in the next hour or so.
We continued along, not expecting any more rapids of consequence until Black Bar
Falls, a significant drop rated at class III+ or even IV- in some publications. According to
Steve, the map showed that Black Bar would come within a mile of Windy Creek so we
stayed vigilant and carefully entered the next rapids, all of which ended up being easy
class III’s at the most. Just when we thought we had run Black Bar about three different
times we came to a more significant looking rapid set in a narrow vertical walled gorge
incised about fifteen to thirty feet into the bottom of the valley. A small but nice beach in
the sun on river right made getting out to scout a simple matter. From the top of a fin of
bedrock a short class III could be seen leading into a narrow chute that looked like it had
a considerable drop and a maybe even a hole at the bottom. At first we were finally
convinced that this was the actual Black Bar Falls, but the only problem was that what we
were seeing did not match any of the descriptions for that rapid.
class II/III with some powerful waves and a few obstacles to avoid. Mark and I eddy
hopped our way down this piece of water to a point where the remainder of the rapid
could be seen dropping somewhat steeply around a mid river boulder. The tandem boat
came down on the other side of the island and ended up stopping in a tiny eddy
immediately above the main drop. While they bailed the rest of us finished up the rapid
through some heavier waves and waited in anticipation for the string ferry that Steve and
Sarah would have to make to avoid broaching on a shallow river left rock pile. After a few
contemplative stares they started the move and it was obvious from the start that they
were going to be smashing into the rocks broadside. Sure enough, the canoe broached
and quickly dumped, sending Sarah swimming headfirst down the shallow pile of rocks
and Steve into a somewhat precarious, half entrapped position upstream of the boat.
Luckily the canoe did not pin and after a little tugging everything was back in order. No
gear was lost and aside from a few bumps and bruises everyone was fine.
Not far below this drop we came to a spot that Steve seemed to think was the Windy
Creek camp. A brook empties in on river left and the remnants of a small bench could be
seen so we all hopped out to see if this was our home for the evening. The scouting
mission showed a rocky riverbank with few flat spots and very poor camping prospects. If
this were indeed Windy Creek it certainly had changed since the description in the
guidebook we were using had been written. Luckily there was nothing to worry about
since the maps indicated a multitude of sites downstream that we would be able to reach
in the next hour or so.
We continued along, not expecting any more rapids of consequence until Black Bar
Falls, a significant drop rated at class III+ or even IV- in some publications. According to
Steve, the map showed that Black Bar would come within a mile of Windy Creek so we
stayed vigilant and carefully entered the next rapids, all of which ended up being easy
class III’s at the most. Just when we thought we had run Black Bar about three different
times we came to a more significant looking rapid set in a narrow vertical walled gorge
incised about fifteen to thirty feet into the bottom of the valley. A small but nice beach in
the sun on river right made getting out to scout a simple matter. From the top of a fin of
bedrock a short class III could be seen leading into a narrow chute that looked like it had
a considerable drop and a maybe even a hole at the bottom. At first we were finally
convinced that this was the actual Black Bar Falls, but the only problem was that what we
were seeing did not match any of the descriptions for that rapid.
It was obvious that we had not been paying close enough attention to the
maps and that we didn’t really know where we were. It didn’t really matter,
campsites are plentiful along the Rogue and there was plenty of daylight,
but it was odd to have gotten so confused so easily. In light of not know
exactly where we were a few of us wanted to camp for the night on the nice
sandy benches tucked into this ledgy alcove. It was getting late in the day
and I was ready to relax, but others did not want to set camp in the
afternoon sun so we moved along. The two rapids we had been looking at
ended up being much easier than the scout suggested, although the
second drop was quite turbulent. As we excited the rapids the river slowly
flowed through a gorgeous narrow canyon until opening up slightly where
a side stream entered in a vertical walled gorge of its own. We eddied out
here because an outhouse was sighted high up in the woods on river left.
Steve consulted his maps and this spot matched exactly with the camp at
Windy Creek. We had “accidentally” found the campsite we had selected
in advance after having though that we had passed it up.
Getting out of the boats and unloading was a little tough at Winder Creek
since steep ledge walls came down directly into the water and rose for
about thirty feet. I hauled gear in several trips and then dragged the empty
canoe up to a point where it could be lifted and carried a safe distance
above the water. The others decided to just tie their boats in the river, but I
didn’t want to risk losing the boat. Regardless, once the gear was up the
hill we found a great campsite with several perfect tent sites in the open
and several more a short distance back into the woods. A prominent
outcrop would make for a nice kitchen area and there were enough well
spaces trees for hanging up hammocks. The only drawback was that it was
maps and that we didn’t really know where we were. It didn’t really matter,
campsites are plentiful along the Rogue and there was plenty of daylight,
but it was odd to have gotten so confused so easily. In light of not know
exactly where we were a few of us wanted to camp for the night on the nice
sandy benches tucked into this ledgy alcove. It was getting late in the day
and I was ready to relax, but others did not want to set camp in the
afternoon sun so we moved along. The two rapids we had been looking at
ended up being much easier than the scout suggested, although the
second drop was quite turbulent. As we excited the rapids the river slowly
flowed through a gorgeous narrow canyon until opening up slightly where
a side stream entered in a vertical walled gorge of its own. We eddied out
here because an outhouse was sighted high up in the woods on river left.
Steve consulted his maps and this spot matched exactly with the camp at
Windy Creek. We had “accidentally” found the campsite we had selected
in advance after having though that we had passed it up.
Getting out of the boats and unloading was a little tough at Winder Creek
since steep ledge walls came down directly into the water and rose for
about thirty feet. I hauled gear in several trips and then dragged the empty
canoe up to a point where it could be lifted and carried a safe distance
above the water. The others decided to just tie their boats in the river, but I
didn’t want to risk losing the boat. Regardless, once the gear was up the
hill we found a great campsite with several perfect tent sites in the open
and several more a short distance back into the woods. A prominent
outcrop would make for a nice kitchen area and there were enough well
spaces trees for hanging up hammocks. The only drawback was that it was
a bit of walk to get water for camp shores. For our small group of light canoe the
inconveniences here were trivial and in essence worked to help keep the site free from
other paddlers with heavily laden gear rafts.
The afternoon had grown very hot and the shade we had not turned out to be an
excellent idea. I lounged in my light backpacking hammock and enjoyed a remarkably
cool plastic bottled Mike’s Lemonade while rocking in the breeze and enjoying the view.
Now this is camping luxury style. A few deer even warily walked between us and the river
at the top of the cliff band lining the water. Some of the others went for short hikes up
the side stream that entered at camp, while some of us continued to lounge and relax
while setting up for the evening.
We had pulled into camp late and I wanted to avoid cooking in the dark so a little before
6:00 I motivated and collected a bucket of water for dinner and chopped up some
vegetables for the spaghetti sauce. Since there was only one pot to prepare pasta for 5,
I had to cook things in two batches, which slowed the process. Still, everyone was pretty
much done eating by the time dusk settled in and sent us quickly heading off for more
layers of warm clothing. The crystal clear sky would do little to hold in the heat and I was
glad to have packed some long pants and a sweat shirt. Washing was little troublesome
with the single bucket of water and knowledge that there are many aggressive
habituated black bears on the Rogue, but we got the job done.
While sitting around after dinner and chatting we became aware of a surprisingly bright
glow on the canyon walls. This startled as at first, but it was soon obvious that the bright,
nearly full moon, was rising. For an hour we hung out and watched the shadows recede
as the intensely bright moon flooded the valley with reflected light. It was obvious that the
heat of the day and paddling had worn us out since by 10:00 everyone crept away to
their respective sleeping spots and drifted off to sleep in no time at all.
inconveniences here were trivial and in essence worked to help keep the site free from
other paddlers with heavily laden gear rafts.
The afternoon had grown very hot and the shade we had not turned out to be an
excellent idea. I lounged in my light backpacking hammock and enjoyed a remarkably
cool plastic bottled Mike’s Lemonade while rocking in the breeze and enjoying the view.
Now this is camping luxury style. A few deer even warily walked between us and the river
at the top of the cliff band lining the water. Some of the others went for short hikes up
the side stream that entered at camp, while some of us continued to lounge and relax
while setting up for the evening.
We had pulled into camp late and I wanted to avoid cooking in the dark so a little before
6:00 I motivated and collected a bucket of water for dinner and chopped up some
vegetables for the spaghetti sauce. Since there was only one pot to prepare pasta for 5,
I had to cook things in two batches, which slowed the process. Still, everyone was pretty
much done eating by the time dusk settled in and sent us quickly heading off for more
layers of warm clothing. The crystal clear sky would do little to hold in the heat and I was
glad to have packed some long pants and a sweat shirt. Washing was little troublesome
with the single bucket of water and knowledge that there are many aggressive
habituated black bears on the Rogue, but we got the job done.
While sitting around after dinner and chatting we became aware of a surprisingly bright
glow on the canyon walls. This startled as at first, but it was soon obvious that the bright,
nearly full moon, was rising. For an hour we hung out and watched the shadows recede
as the intensely bright moon flooded the valley with reflected light. It was obvious that the
heat of the day and paddling had worn us out since by 10:00 everyone crept away to
their respective sleeping spots and drifted off to sleep in no time at all.
The first day's morning started off cool, but temperatures soon rose well into the
nineties. This scene is typically of the landscapes seen on the first day.
nineties. This scene is typically of the landscapes seen on the first day.
Steve and Sarah run the first rapid on the Rogue doing a good job avoiding rocks and
keeping waves out of the boat.
keeping waves out of the boat.
Shortly below the Crave Creek put in, the second rapid on the Rogue is a heavy class
III that is more forgiving than it looks from above.
III that is more forgiving than it looks from above.
Another view of Grave Creek Rapid shows a nice clean rapid followed by a large pool.
This is typical of the Rogue and makes swims no big deal.
This is typical of the Rogue and makes swims no big deal.
As the sun poured over the ridges and flooded into the valley temperatures
rose quickly into the eightees and beyond.
rose quickly into the eightees and beyond.
Raine Falls is the single largest drop on the river and while it can be run, it is solid class
V and we chose to line around it on river right.
V and we chose to line around it on river right.
Steve and Sarah line the tandem boat down the fish ladder that has been blasted
around Raine Falls.
around Raine Falls.
Below Raine Falls the Rogue enters a small canyon that is much like a good bit of the
river. Lots of easier water and great scenery makes the Rogue well suited to canoing.
river. Lots of easier water and great scenery makes the Rogue well suited to canoing.
Our lunch stop at Whiskey Creek was made comfortable by lots of flat ground and a
well placed shade tree.
well placed shade tree.
Whiskey Creek Cabin was a functioning homestead until the mid nineteen seventies
when the last inhabitants left and the Forest Service took over the property.
when the last inhabitants left and the Forest Service took over the property.
Tyee Rapids offer several routes ranging from class II to class III.
Mark running down river right through Tyee Rapids through what ended up being
heavier water than was expected.
heavier water than was expected.
Warm weather and many sandy beaches made our trip down the Rogue
relaxed and enjoyable.
relaxed and enjoyable.
While the Rogue is best known for its whitewater, long stretches of great
cruising water wait for canoers willing to deal with the rapids.
cruising water wait for canoers willing to deal with the rapids.
Rugged bedrock canyons set into the bottom of the river valley make a trip down the
Rogue exciting and interesting.
Rogue exciting and interesting.
Gnarled Live Oak and Madrone cling to the steep and dry hillsides found
throughout the Siskyou Mountains.
throughout the Siskyou Mountains.
Near the end of the day we ran a fun set of rapids not far upstream from our evening's
campsite at Windy Creek.
campsite at Windy Creek.
Windy Creek spills into the Rogue through a spectacular miniature
canyon caved into the bedrock.
canyon caved into the bedrock.
Scott sets up his shelter and prepares for a night of sleep at our Windy
Creek campsite.
Creek campsite.