California Whitewater Rafting RAFTWET Stories!


RAFTWET PRESENTS! Welcome to our Stories Funny 'stuff about guides & river rafting StORiEs! About RAFTING & GUIDING on the RIVER River Trips for the Copacetic Mind... The stories on this page were originally published in 1995-97...on the original Geocities site which is now Yahoo!			HOME SITE MAP RIVERS in California AMERICAN RIVER RAFTING SOUTHFORK AMERICAN MIDDLEFORK AMERICAN NORTHFORK AMERICAN Northern California Rivers FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS SPECIAL PROGRAMS PRICE LIST DISCOUNTS GROUP RATES MOST POPULAR RIVER! ACCOMMODATIONS MENUS FUNNY STORIES New! FOTO GALLERY! FUNNY CARTOONS GUIDE SCHOOL CLASSIFICATION SYSTEM GROUP & CORPORATE PROGRAMS ADVERTISING OPPORTUNITIES with W.E.T. CANCELLATION/Reservation POLICY FREE BROCHURE! WEBMASTER LINK! raftwet.com 1.888.RAFTWET 1.888.723.8938 copyright 1995-2005 update: May 16, 2005 PO Box 160024 Sacramento, CA 95816 Toll Free: 1.888.723.8938 Adminstrative: 916.451.3241 email: <wet@raftwet.com>
WELL, ...there you are...in front of your computer. I am dreaming about a trip on the North Fork of the American River.This was the trip of friends and guides that we annually did before the commercial season begun. I remember the day so clearly ...cold...early spring and we were all fully decked in maxi-gear. Wetsuits, paddle jackets, booties, wool caps, helmets and of course a bit of bravado. The North Fork always sets me on edge. There's always a possibility of disaster on this river. Chamberlain Falls can tweak you and thrash you and if the water's high, then it can turn you upside down before you even feel the flip! Staircase Rapid is just as deadly. Very tweaky rapid. Soooo, with all that in the back of my mind, we set out on our lonely journey with only two boats. No one else was on the river...no commercial traffic! The paddle boat was up ahead as we followed with our oar-boat. Each rapid turned and twisted and the cold water splashed like melted ice-cubes in our face. The oar boat seemed almost boring. I watched the paddle boat hump down and up and watched as the participants hooped and hollered. I sat back with my friend in the front of the oar boat as John rowed lazily downstream. A piece of cake for us! This was too easy or so I thought. Anyway, I had to stop and do some business, so John pulled over into a small eddy just before Chamberlain Falls. If you know the North Fork at 2500 cfs, you know the eddies are pretty small. We all stopped, talked about the upcoming biggie rapid and boarded the rafts again. John jumped back onto the oars and we pushed off. I turned around to see why we seem to be floating towards a car-size boulder and John says,"...plenty of time...don't worry..." So I turn around and realize that he's full of, well you know...the next thing I know, we are in a slow motion dream...the raft starts crawling up the rock. John yells, "HIGHSIDE!" Maria and I jump up to the top of the thwart, just as it starts to go vertical. I scramble up the top of the thwart and leap up onto the rock...meanwhile, Maria, does the same. John gets blasted out of the boat and the next thing I know, the two of us are stranded on the rock with the boat plastered and wrapped around the rock below us! OH SHIT! I can't believe it. We are nowhere near any major rapid...this is just a boulder next to the eddy!	15 years of boating, and this was the squirreliest scene, yet. The paddle boat pulls over up ahead and I can see their faces...they're that close! They have the utter look of disbelief! John swims over to them and suddenly, everyone is pulling out throw ropes and carabiners...rescue is about to happen. Maria starts crying...I start screaming about the plastered boat...the only thing I can reach is one valve below the water. John hikes back up and yells at Maria to jump in the river and swim towards the other boat. She starts wailing again...I'm ready to kill her. I practically beg her to jump in just to get rid of this panic-stricken wench and I start to do the CALM VOICE OF REASON...she finally jumps and is rescued downstream. Meanwhile, I'm struggling to deflate the thwart when I realize I can't feel my fingers anymore. I pull them out of the water and I realize they're blue. John jumps in and swims to the boat. At this point, I thought,"..let him be the hero..." I say adios and I jump in and swim towards the other boat. John saves the day by managing to loosen the boat off the rock and he pulls it towards the shore. After that trip, we gave him a rash of shit! Another day on the river....... LESSON: Never take any river lightly...no matter how experienced you are! ---Astair--- copywrite 1995 Originally published on Geocities/Yahoo KEEP SCROLLING FOR MORE STORIES!


What the hell was that? Like a dream, I faintly heard a voice screaming in the far distance. Look out! And then a rumble of boulders flying over my head. We were hiking up the Clavey River, a side stream off of the Tuolumne River outside of Yosemite. Tim and Dave were above me...when a boulder cut loose and barely missed my head by 6 inches...or so they said. It was Veteran's Day weekend on a Friday afternoon. We three and two small oar-boats were traveling light and purposefully down the Tuolumne River. The flow was low and our biggest worry was the rock garden just past the put-in. We laid over at Clavey, groovin' out on the river and we KNEW that Sunday's water would be very low and the river would be a total rock garden. But we didn't care...the river was one of our favorites...and we just wanted to be there after a heavy season of commercial guiding. On Sunday, waking up, we looked at the river in utter disbelief. WHERE WAS THE WATER? I mean, this was barely fish flow! Okey...we'll wait. So we laid about...engaging in conversation and other distractions just knowing that the dam releases would be there soon...or so we thought.	By noon, we knew we had to get out of there. Tim was in front and Dave and I pulled up the rear. We bumped and grinded down the bony skeleton of a river...the water'll come up...I just know it. The sky glowed pink and we knew the sun was leaving us behind to negotiate this class IV river in the dark. AAARGH! And there was no moon. We hadn't even reached Hell's Kitchen, yet, a majorly long rapid filled with rocks. Lots of potential for a wrap. I fished out a flashlight and hung over the bow of the boat hoping to illuminate any oncoming rocks. Somehow, through sheer memorization, we danced through the rapids, never hitting a single rock as if a magical spell was cast upon us. PLEASE don't let there be a log jam at the take-out...God had heard us and we miracuously floated towards the take-out through the clear waters and ended our DARK TRIP safe and insane. ---Tommy--- LESSON: Pay attention to flow reports! Copyright: 1995 Originally published on Geocities/Yahoo KEEP GOING!

Hi! I'm a guide (that's a professional whitewater guide, excuse me...) on the South Fork of the American River. I remember a trip in June when the water was raging at 8,000 cfs. We were on a two day commercial run with about 36 people. We were camping at a BLM wilderness site along the river and were preparing hors d'ouevres (is that how you spell it?) before dinner when some guides from the river company next to us interrupted our prep work. One of them asked us how our trip was going and we started trading chit chat back and forth when one of them sheepishly asked us if we could do them a favor...sure I said, what's up? Well, their head guide asked us if we had any extra steaks...sure, we always have a few extras...and I asked him how many did he need? TWENTY-FOUR! What!?! He then explained that they had left all their meat back in the coolers at their warehouse...geez, we gave them all we could...about 12 and they left us quickly. As we turned back to our prep work we heard a commotion down by the boats...one of our guides came running up screaming that a client had just jumped into the river without their lifejacket. We ran down to the river just in time to see this guy swimming towards the rock in the middle of the 8,000 cfs current! We yelled at him to stay put and we decided to do an impromptu river rescue...	but suddenly, there he was again jumping into the river to swim back to us...unbelievable...and he made it! We tore into him and told him that he was now officially off the trip and for him to go sit down by the fire...he was oblivious. Geez... Anyway, there we were, hating these people when one of them came over and starting harassing one of the female guides with lewd and obnoxious comments...our head guide Aaron was cutting carrots and turned to this dude and told him to mind his manners...the dude freaked out and thought that Aaron was threatening him with a knife. He started hollering and calling for his friends. I could feel an ugly scene about to happen...Deliverance revisited! One of the friends whispered into my ear and told me to ignore their friend...he was just crazy. Geez...at this point, we gave up on these people and decided to focus on the END of the trip...hope I never see them again! GUIDES DEAL WITH ALOT OF BULL SOMETIMES! ---Jannie--- LESSON: Professional guides have alot of patience and are quick thinkers in the face of adversity! Copyright: 1995 Originally Published on Geocities/Yahoo SCROLL, SCROLL, SCROLL!

We pulled into Phantom Ranch on day 6 on the Colorado River. We were on a private trip with friends. We were sunburnt, windburnt and dizzy with the anticipation of reaching civilization. We hiked to the Ranch and scarffed up some food and ice-cold beer...the first cold drinks in six days! The sun was low in the sky when we decided to leave. (A few hidden cans of beer in our ammo boxes would keep us cool later that evening.) We ran to the boats just when the sky was turning colors...we knew it would be dark soon. We stumbled over rocks and boarded the boats knowing full well that we would not reach camp before dark. In our frenzy we navigated by moonlight and reached our destination safe and sound.	The sky was crystal clear and the only sound that you could hear was the roar of the rapids. I was so tired that I barely managed to crawl into my sleeping bag. Someone gave me a paper plate with some cold beans and tortillas and somehow I managed to eat it without puking my guts. God, I love this river. The dull roar and the cold air on my face was enough to push me into nirvana. I slept like a breast-fed baby. ---Betty--- Copyright 1995 Originally published Geocities/Yahoo

We hardly noticed the man and his son as they drove by us. We were busy packing up our gear and getting ready for a jamming run down the Merced river. The flow was high and cold and ready for us private boaters. We had driven all night to get to the Merced river. We were ready for another high water adventure. As we packed, we noticed the man and his son getting out of their truck and unloading a beautiful handmade canoe. Randy walked over and asked them what they were doing. Proudly, the man explained that he had just built this canoe and was ready to try it out on the Merced river. I was walking over just as Randy was shaking his head..."..you don't want to do that today...the river is at very dangerous levels!" I could see the look of confidence and sheer ignorance all over the man's face and I chimed in,"Please don't attempt this today...there's tons of debris in the river and the flow is at 8,000 cfs!" The man and his son just looked at us and smiled. I suddenly had a sick feeling in my stomach. The man and his son just looked at us and smiled. I suddenly had a sick feeling in my stomach. Randy started running back to our truck, cursing all the way. I ran after him. Right when I got to the truck, I heard Randy say,"...damn idiots...just what we need...another river rescue...another hassle to ruin MY DAY!" He quickly grabbed a throwline and I and everyone else started grabbing carabiners and ropes. We started running as fast as we could.	Just as we reached the man and his son, he pushed off in the canoe while we just stood screaming at them to stop. Within seconds, their brave little smiles turned into open-mouth terror as the realization that the beautifully crafted canoe was no match for the power of the river. The boat splintered and broke against a rock in the middle of the river and dumped both the man and his son in the swirling current. The roar of the river was deafening. I could not hear their screams. We ran over the rocks with total desperation...knowing that hypothermia would set in within minutes since neither of them were wearing wetsuits. The man swam towards an eddy as one of us threw a throwline to him. The son was rescued shortly after by one of our kayakers and we dragged them all to shore. They were frozen, bloody and in shock. We walked them back to their truck and gave them some hot soup. The man was extremely embarrassed and he apologized for all our troubles. As we left, I could see the canoe splinters wedged downstream in a tree by the shore...I was just so glad it wasn't their bodies... Randy was pissed. We had wasted most of the morning on the rescue, but I think deep down, we were all glad that we were there to help. ---Joe--- Copyright: 1997 Geocities/Yahoo

The East Carson is a swiftly flowing class II-III river near Markleeville, CA. I love running this river in the crisp-cool days of spring. The desert environment combined with snowy capped mountains creates a romantic dichotomy of life...so we four floated the Carson in two small rafts one lovely day...we were into the first day of a two day trip. No one was here. We were here before the fair weather boaters...and we had the river to ourselves. Note from W.E.T.: early springtime is a great time for rafting for early season boaters. Expect cool days with inclement weather on most rivers throughout the Sierra's. Also look for higher flows on most rivers in the spring.	I remember pulling into the hot springs and warming up. That night it was Steve's birthday so one of us pulled out the suprise drink cooler filled with dry ice and gelato. We floated in the hot spring that night...someone floated a tray over and we began drinking champagne and beer and eating gelato. C'est plan pour moi! ---Jacque--- Copyright: 1997 Geocities/Yahoo

The flag waved high in the wind. Back and forth the boat rocked. I lay on my back on top of the middle thwart and gazed up at the flag...looking at the cloudless blue sky backdrop. Middle Fork of the Salmon in Idaho was a special trip. The river lapped gently against the boat lulling me to sleep. I drifted in and out when Rich said something about a major class IV rapid. I looked up from under my dream and suddenly felt the loop-di-loop of the wave. It was July 4th and low water on the Middle Fork. The class IV was a small technical rapid with hardly a wave. I could see that with the structure of the rocks that this rapid could be major at high water.	We pulled over onto a tree dotted landscape and quickly set up camp on the beach. We were a small group of close friends. Tuolumne. American and Canyon guides, all floating together after a busy spring of commercial boating. We were on vacation. Someone brought a cake mix and frosting decorations. We made a chocolate brownie cake and proceeded to decorate the party cake. The cake beckoned. Frosting decorated our faces and we kissed each other with frosting laced lips. Peals of laughter echoed through the canyon walls and somewhere I heard a big horn sheep moan a lonely call. ---Danny--- Copywrite: 1997 Geocities/Yahoo

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