nature – Frisky Ripples

I recently returned from a river trip on the Rogue where our crew joined a clean-up on the Wild & Scenic section, Grave Creek to Foster Bar. Unbelievably, this is only the second time I’ve run this section of the Rogue–the last time when I was just 21 years old. So it’s been a minute…

If you’ve read my blog from the beginning, you know that I did not grow up paddling as a part of my regular life. In fact, the outdoor recreation world that is integral to my lifestyle now was unknown to me. Sure, my family was nature-loving but it wasn’t due to large amounts of time spent IN nature. My hobbies/activities were way more urban. I spent way too much time at one of two malls, working at a retail shop part time through high school, or “hanging out” at the mall which mostly meant my friends and I walked around and looked for boys our age, and shopping. Or, I spent my time at dance clubs and “cruisin”. After graduating high school I started making some changes and began school at the local community college, working three part time jobs and spent lots of time at bars. This eventually led me to the Ram Pub which at the time was a small but well-located on the corner of Willamette University and kitty corner to La Casa Real which was a key hang-out for 21-30 somethings. PS, none of these pubs/bars exist anymore.

It was with the Ram pub staff of 23 servers, hosts and bartenders that I made my maiden voyage on the Rogue. Since I’d never been on a multi-day river trip and had only rafted a single day on the Mckenzie, you can guess that it was a cute guy that motivated me and my girlfriend to jump aboard the trip when invited. While I had no experience with multi-day trips, it was a fantastic time– I had TONS of fun. No regrets there. The key point is that my mindset and lifestyle were waaaay different than now.

The single regret I had for the trip was that we, as a group, were not environmentally sound when paddling. I have no idea what regulations existed decades ago, but littering was/is never ok. We didn’t intentionally liter, but one of our gear boats with half our food and beer supplies was completely unsecured and flipped in the middle shoot of Rainee. So much packaged food and 24 cases of MGD draft went straight into the river. Ugggh. Not cool.

Weather also had an impact on this first trip. Torrential downpours resulted in flooding and due to lack of food and “too much cotton”, we all hiked out above Mule Creek Canyon and Blossom. Pretty epic really.

That was a part of the inspiration to help Kekoa and the Boat Buddies crew, for this year’s Rogue River cleanup. Kekoa had stopped by the shop and I promised him prizes for the raffle. Later, I figured we could do better and actually be a part of the cleanup. Myself and five other TC crew spent last weekend–two oar-rafts and a kayak, picking up trash. We found tires, random metal, parts of oars, full mesh bags and even the inside drum of a washer or dryer (although we guessed space junk or robot diaper!) Haha.

Admittedly, besides picking up garbage we had a ton of fun. The paddling/rowing was awesome and amazingly beautiful. Our crew comprised great personality–the laughs were frequent sprinkled with deeper, more meaningful conversations throughout the weekend. Food was fantastic! Artist, paddler and friend Dave Kinker enthralled us with his daily plain air painting.

I haven’t yet circled back with Kekoa about how much poundage of trash was removed (if they even kept track). I can tell you our team recovered way more than my Ram Pub crew (accidentally but avoidably) left in there. Doesn’t make up for it but I’m hoping the Rogue River Gods acknowledge the gesture.

If you’re just getting in to paddling, please educate yourself on the important rules of Leave no Trace. From filtering your wash water to groovering. Tie things down properly to your boat!! Have so much fun…responsibly. Thanks for listening and I look forward to seeing you out there on the frisky ripples…

Years ago when I started this blog my intention was to explain my journey from being a kid raised by two parents from inner city Chicago to living in Bend, pursuing the Bendlandia experience of constant outdoor recreation. That meant that instead of growing up on mountain bikes and in kayaks I hung out at the mall and “cruised the gut” as a teen (Bend kids are SO fortunate!!) Ironically, the real change started after I got into a whole bunch of trouble as a 15-year old, rebelling against my parents, pushing my independence and having “too much fun”. Finally, my actions caught up with me and I was “grounded for life” which ended up being just a month, and the exception was that I could do anything with the family. At the time my dad hadn’t been super present, either traveling or working a ton and subsequently hunkering down after work for some much-needed quiet-time. I have to credit my dad…maybe he realized the gap in our relationship but he showed up then, and the most impactful activity we did together was a private raft trip on the McKenzie river–just the guide, my dad, a family friend and me.

It was a full day trip and it was in the forest on the river. Duh. I explain this because that was kind of foreign to me. It’s not like I’d never been to the forest or seen a river, but this was “out there” and the river was so beautiful, the rapids were really fun and then we got to swim in the river!! The experience of being on/in the river WAS entirely new to me. I had so much fun and I just wanted to do it again.

You might think I fell in love with paddling right there and then, and chose to pursue a life as a guide. Nope. Not even a little. In fact it wasn’t for another 6 years that I’d make my way onto a raft again. But the experience and feeling of joy stayed with me, and when I made the decision to leave Salem a few years later it was Bend and living that lifestyle that I was chasing (finding and working a job at the Inn of the Seventh Mountain, which offered raft trips). From there, the rest is history.

I’ve spent the last 6 months spreading my dad’s ashes at various important places and yesterday it came full circle. I wanted to honor him on Father’s Day at a place so poignant to both he and I. I paddled the McKenzie river and was able to leave a “bit of dad” there. At the takeout, I released his ashes while two butterflies flew around as if to accompany him on the next step of his journey. These butterflies (the yellow and black ones that I lovingly call “yellow-tail swallow tiger somethings”) have special meaning to me and it was an emotional moment–in a very happy way. Be free dad…swim in the river and fly with the butterflies!