River Rafting in Washington

“The Selway, between Double Drop Rapids and Ladle Rapids, has averaged one drowning per year, over the past 8 years.” the veteran Selway River guide intoned.  “Don’t take it lightly.”   ~~ After awkwardly clambering up a steep slope above Double Drop Rapids in an effort to get a peek at what lurked around the bend, those words lay harbored in the back of my mind.  With the Selway rising, rocks were disappearing and ugly hydrologic features were emerging.   Double Drop Rapids, Selway River 2004 - Dane Doerflinger The reason those who scouted the day before were nonplussed about location was because they had noted an enormous boulder at the head of Double Drop Rapids.   An enormous boulder.  With the rising tide, the telltale boulder was engulfed. From the scout, I had no doubt of the preferred route.  However, the slightest miscalculation risked an encounter with some of the explosive breaking waves toward the rapid’s tail....

Leavenworth, Washington Thanks to Jermaine for posting this thorough, descriptive review on Yelp.  Jermaine is another one of our enthusiastic, authentic customers that Yelp filtered.  I think the trouble with Yelp's algorithm is that it does not take into account the potential for an effusive review that a white water rafting trip is likely to produce.  Jermaine was STOKED after his experience.  Like Apple computer's early evangelizers, those who take their first journey down a river often emerge at the take-out with an "AHA!" look on their face. Here is Jermaine's experience: "I booked a trip with Orion River Rafting for the 28th of May, with no fear at all, not even thinking about our trip until about one week before the actual trip, then the fear started to set in on all that could go wrong on the water with me not being a strong swimmer. My wife was not afraid at all, that is until we got to the first white waters, then she got nervou...

When I first 'cut my teeth' river rafting , my instructors talked about a collection of 'river gods'.  They were not referring to the bold whitewater enthusiasts who were starting to push the boundaries of river rafting all over the planet while claiming first descents, though many thought of those daring adventurers as 'river gods'.  It was their way of introducing the green river runners in our party to their version of the mythological pantheon of 'river gods' that they claimed were part and parcel of a free-flowing river. With white water rafting - when in doubt, scout! I will not bother you with the names of these gods, but I will divulge that they were 'tongue-in-cheek' monikers.  Sort of inside jokes, in the Southwestern river community where I was taught to guide .  But they stood for something else altogether - Respect. Respect for the immense, unknowable, ultimately untameable power of moving water. Respect lik...

Before the collapse of the Soviet Union and the crumbling of the Berlin Wall, a group of American boaters ventured into the wilds of Siberia and discovered Soviet citizens, using home-made rafts, launching themselves down torrents of whitewater that would give the boldest river rafters pause. Late in the '80s, a reconstituted group of the same American rafting enthusiasts returned to the Soviet Union to compete in the whitewater competitions that Soviet clubs organized. Out of these encounters emerged the idea for a non-profit dubbed Project RAFT which stood for Russians and Americans for Teamwork. The idea was to bring teams of Soviets together with teams of Americans for a semi-annual whitewater river rafting competition and environmental festival. It was fleshed out to include teams from any nation in the world capable of fielding a river rafting team of 6 to 7 individuals. The first official Project RAFT gathering happened early in the spring of 1990 and was hosted by the Na...

Change. I am uncomfortable with change. I wear the same clothes day after day, haunt the same haunts, perform the same routine over and over. Amongst the instructors, during guide training, the common refrain goes, ". . . but, we always do it that way!" And yet, between 1974 and 1976, I careened from one of the smallest colleges in the universe, to one of the largest universities ever built, to a state college in the farthest reaches of the continental United States. In suburban north Dallas, my life was so free of change I attended elementary through high school without ever leaving one street! Arapaho was the name of the residential street where Arapaho Elementary, West Junior High and Richardson High School were located one after the other like some sort of meat processing facility or car manufacturing assembly line. Arapahos were nomadic Plains Indians who never set foot in north Texas. I was a sedentary suburbanite who had hardly set foot outside of Texas. I love...

Thirty days in the redrock country of Utah did not make me an outdoorsman. (Thirty five years hasn’t molded me into one either, for that matter.) In all honesty, I don’t recall learning very many ‘outdoor skills’. No survival skills, no map and compass skills, no river rescue skills. Since a majority of the river trip was a float trip, we barely learned how to steer the rafts. It was a thirty day wilderness orientation trip with minimal structure. I remember a fair amount of hiking, as well as backpacking. We ate an enormous amount of peanut butter and jam on round crackers called ‘Bolton biscuits’ which was just one of the indestructible foods that we hauled down river in used military black bags referred to as ‘blags’. We also ate an enormous amount of tasteless granola and freeze dried dinners. We brought 5 pound bricks of cheese that we kept unrefrigerated for the entire time. The cheese blocks grew sweaty and greasy in the unremitting heat of the desert, but, remarkably,...

The Story of Orion As told, and remembered by the Grand Poohbah Hisself In Twelve Parts. . . ~~~ I am going to begin at the very beginning. At a time when Orion was not even a gleam in anyone’s eye. At a time when I had no idea I would spend the majority of my life in ‘The Great North Woods’, as my high school girlfriend’s father liked to call it, or ‘The Great NorthWet’, as Emily Johnston prefers to call it. A time when outdoor recreation meant Starcraft pop-up trailers and the word campground was spelled with a ‘K’ as far as my family was concerned --- as in Kampgrounds of America, aka KOA. It was the early ‘70’s. I was in love with iconoclasm, progressive country and environmentalism. I was out-of-step with everyone who lived in north Texas. A high school classmate reminded me the other day that I would recycle my paper lunch sack until it was as limp as toilet tissue. I had begun questioning the twin Texas sacred cows of competition and football. If old enough, I would have...

On a whim, I went to YouTube the other day and typed in " Leavenworth Wenatchee River Rafting " . Imagine my surprise when I discovered a six-minute, produced video of a day with Orion on the Wenatchee River out of our darling faux Bavarian Village, Leavenworth . The video was produced last summer by one of Orion 's stalwart regular guests and was a delightful 'inside edition' to the nuts-and-bolts of a one day raft trip. I especially appreciated the humor, even in regards to well-tended, rental wetsuits with a limp rear patch --- there was some reference to an "escape hatch". We work very hard to stay on top of our rental gear (which isn't really rented, but comes with the package) but it is exasperating fussing with 250 wetsuits, both inside and out, to make certain of their total integrity. The video producer is a guest whom, by memory, I only know as 'Scooter'. He calls himself on his website 'Vespa Boy'. As an organizer of...