A September 7th launch on southern Oregon's Rogue River was the only prize of the many river lotteries we entered this year. The Rogue is one of the original eight US rivers designated as Wild & Scenic in 1968 (of 200+ rivers now given that designation), which should say something about its wilderness quality and beauty, if not excellent whitewater. The Rogue is one of the key strongholds for a couple species of salmon and bears and other wildlife seemed to be in healthy numbers. The few photos I had seen were of remarkably clear emerald-green waters, thickly forested surrounds, and bedrock mini-gorges with waterfalls plunging straight into the river. The river also boasts many excellent class II and III rapids including a particularly interesting couple miles in an area known as Mule Creek Canyon. Boating friends had been raving about the river for years and it frequently makes shortlists of the world's most classic river trips. So the hype was real!
We tried to recruit others to join for our permit of up to 8 persons, but in the end it was just the two of us. To gain confidence, Heather thoroughly mapped every rapid and watched many a YouTube video to come up with a plan for the major rapids, including those to scout and those she would portage. Since the permit was awarded in March we had many a month to mull over and develop a thorough plan. By the time it was ready to go it felt like one of the best prepared 3-day river trips ever. In the end we opted for a 39 mile run from Almeda Campground above the traditional Grave Creek put-in to the takeout at Foster Bar. Flows would be lower this late in the season but perfectly reasonable for packrafts. We had flows of about 1800 cfs and more or less perfect weather.
Of course the trip had to start with a marathon one-day 13 hour drive nearly the full length of California into the Rogue River valley. As always it was a reminder of just how long California is, as we could have driven across four states into Colorado with the distance and time it took just to get to the CA/OR border. Conveniently we were able to camp at Almeda, our put-in, which made for an easy morning after collecting our boat tags a half-mile down the road at the ranger station. After some deliberation between hydroskin top and bottom, 3mm wetsuit, and light drysuit, I went with the drysuit, which was probably the right choice overall. We pushed off around 9:30am, joining the hardwalled row boats floating down (drift boats) that seemed to be the vessel of choice for the fisherman and their guides. We made good time of about 4 mph reaching the bridge and Grave Creek, which worked out to be our average speed on the river overall. We pulled into the boat ramp at Grave Creek and hiked up the very start of the Rogue River Trail to get a little elevation to scout the first two rapids, including Grave Creek Falls. I saw enough poison oak dangling over the side of this first 0.2 miles of trail to know that I had no interest in hiking anymore of the trail! I managed to convince Heather neither rapid would pose much issue, so on and down we went.
Next up after a few more minor rapids and flats was Rainie Falls, the standout Class V drop that seldom gets run down its main channel. Some groups will bump and bounce down a middle chute run (IV-ish), but most (including us) will take the river right low volume creeking channel named the Fish Ladder. Heather opted to do the easy walk so it was the first of several rapids I got to run twice. Though the bypass was trivial, it was good to have this landmark behind us.
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| Rainie Falls (Fish Ladder bypass left of view) |
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| Fish Ladder creeking to bypass Rainie Falls |
A short distance further we pulled in next to some rafts at Whiskey Creek for our first short side hike to an interesting two room historic gold miner cabin up the creek. It was also the first large group campsite we saw, the most notable feature being the electrified enclosure so campers could keep food away from bears. Along the trail were some of the healthiest looking poison oak I have ever seen in my life, with some fist sized leaves glaring angry red at me. Whiskey Creek itself was quite pretty with crystalline pools under a densely forested canopy. The cabin was interesting too with lots of old artifacts including 50+ year old tins of various things, a nice covered porch, a solar shower, and a mining water flume that would have doubled as a convenient water supply. Though sweaty in my drysuit, it was a nice diversion.
Next were a series of class III rapids that Heather wanted to walk. So I got to take two different lines each in Tyee Rapid, Wildcat Rapid, and then a few miles further through Black Bar Rapid. I was rewarded for my shuttle service halfway through my second lap through Black Bar when I spotted a very fancy pair of forgotten trekking poles near the river's edge. As we entered the early afternoon we soon found every camp full with a different raft group. Even late in the season, competition for campsites was fierce. Commercial groups send out a gear raft ahead of the rest of the group (legal apparently) to snag the best sites and pre-set their clients tents up. There were also plenty of private boating groups also snagging campsites early. Once we rounded Horseshoe Bend we started looking for campsites and every one we spotted was taken for the next 2.5 miles.
Despite this frustration and bit of worry, we ended up claiming what I thought was the best of all the campsites we had come upon, just downstream of Kelsey Creek which cascades into the Rogue through a series of short but pretty waterfalls. This camp landing had a steep and loose climb up away from the river (probably very discouraging for raft groups) onto a high water platform camp with the perfect mix of sand, grass, bedrock outcrops, and shingles. The camp had great access to a cold pool (margarita refrigerator) and made for a scenic stretch of river to fly a drone. Downstream I could see the next three camps had groups in them so we counted ourselves lucky to have this choice spot. We ended up eating dinner and drinking canned margaritas at the top of the rocky promontory above the river, while the air temperature was perfect. We also had a great view from here of just how massive this river's high flow (1-5 year sort of events) must be. Sleep came easily. Again a great camp altogether and a good end to an 18 mile day of paddling.
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| Kelsey Creek Camp |
Our large number of miles the first day put us in a great position to deal with the last big obstacle of our trip on the second day, the 2.5 miles of Mule Creek Canyon whitewater that Heather was determined to not run herself. The best case scenario was that we would run into some private raft group at the right time of day that would be amenable to strapping her boat onto theirs and giving her a ride through. The more likely scenario that we were prepared for was for her to disassemble her boat and backpack the 2.5 miles of the river trail to bypass it on foot. Up to that point though we had several miles of nice class II rapids including some bedrock mini-gorges and mid-river boulder gardens that were more interesting than challenging. After the morning's first two bends in the river we stopped briefly at Wrinkle Bar to check out the historic Zane Grey cabin. In the middle of a minor riffle I spotted an unusually black shape in the forest off to the side and eddied out to watch a sizable black bear clamber around among the riverside boulders. Though we saw plenty the previous day, many rocks in the calm sections of the river had one or more stacked cairn rocks that could be seen at a great distance, and we we approached they were always seen to be Western pond turtles with their long necks out on alert like periscopes, ready to plunge into the water at a moment's notice. I managed to get a few good photos despite their mostly skittish nature. One smaller turtle seemed atypically relaxed and I managed to make a quick move to catch it for a quick photo before letting it go. We easily saw well over a hundred turtles which was refreshing to see.
We arrived to the historic Billings Ranch around lunchtime and spent a leisurely hour or so checking out the different buildings including a very nice museum in the main house. They had some very enticing pear and apple trees but the real winner ended up being the blackberries. It was only a mile further to the start of Mule Creek Canyon, but every group we ran into was stopping to camp at this very popular location.
We pulled out on a meager bedrock landing below a steep bramble covered slope, just above the start of the Mule Creek Canyon narrows. While Heather packed up her boat I nosed my way up the meandering trails to eventually find my way up to the trail, an exhausting move given the heat of the day and my barely vented drysuit. Once ready I led her back up to the trail and we confirmed our plan. Neither of us had a great idea of how long it would take us to cover the 2.5 miles on foot or float but we had a clear meeting point, Gleason Bar Camp, and a panic time. I was sufficiently worked by the heat and running around that I needed to sit in the river for a minute before I resumed getting ready and pushed off into the water.
Mule Creek Canyon was easily my favorite part of the river and left me wanting more. It starts with what is described as three class II rapids, but what really was more of a continuous quarter-mile long sluicebox where walls close in to squeeze the river and lateral paddling is needed to keep off of the outside of the river's bends while simultaneously keeping momentum to power through the unpredictable boils. After this there was a brief calm stretch that left me wondering: did I just go through Coffeepot Rapid? A quick consult with my phone GPS and the answer was no, it was just ahead of me. Cautiously I paddled downriver as strange river noises echoed and then I could see it, the notorious Coffeepot. This was truly a weird feature. The river narrowed and dropped only about a foot total in the rapid, a trivial amount. However, hidden beneath the water was clearly some very strange shaped bedrock that forced the water to twist and turn in a pure chaos of dynamic boils and eddy lines, certainly resembling the unpredictability of boiling water. With speed my best asset I paddled aggressively into the maw and focused on paddle strokes as I was sucked and pushed in unpredictable ways. I got through it easy enough but not without an unplanned 360 turn. I had previously heard that they say that no one has the same line through Coffeepot, and I now understood and believed this. Neat feature! Next Stair Creek appeared on the left where I waved to a solo rafter, and then paddled a flat but very scenic hallway leading up to Blossom Bar, the longest and most complex rapid on the river. Along this flat I spotted Heather high on the trail to my right and whistled for attention, both of us happy the other seemed to be making good progress. I had seen enough videos of Blossom Bar to know how to do the crucial move at the top of the rapid and not feel the need to scout, but since they were only a minute behind I eddied out and followed the solo rafter through without issues.
One more wave train rapid followed, Devils Staircase, and then I pulled into the steep cobble slope leading up to Gleason Bar Camp, taking about 45 minutes since I set off from Heather. She arrived only 10 minutes later, relaying a generally great trail with excellent views. It was only about 4 pm at this point and we had only covered 10 river miles but after some discussion we decided it was not worth retransitioning back to paddle mode and instead to call an early camp here and aim for an early start the following day. We had a brief swim and also hid out in the shade of the rocky promontory sticking out into the river until the sun finally set behind the local peak and offered us some relief. Once again this was a particularly excellent camp that perfectly suited our group size of two. Dinner and margaritas were had as the last of the drift boats and private raft groups floated past. Both of our camps ended up being easy highlights of the river trip.
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| Gleason Bar Camp |
For our third day we managed to get on the water before 8:30am, not beating some of the freshmen staying at private lodges upstream, but plenty early to enjoy the best part of the day to be paddling. Slowly the pond turtles woke up and began appearing on rocks. Salmon jumped. We saw the most flatwater in these last 11 miles so were particularly glad to paddle it before the heat of the day. Civilization became more abundant as we passed by many lodges and cabin in the vicinity of Paradise and Half Moon riffles. We also passed nearly a dozen different raft groups at their camps. After we passed Clay Hill Rapid we entered a long, straight corridor of mirror calm water. Just as we were about to paddle past a rafter and say hello I spotted a bear on the right shore, and silently pointed. All three of us watched this bear ambling along the shore for several minutes as we drifted along, keeping pace. It was one of the more magical wildlife encounters I have had in a while as it cared very little for me being close by watching it. When we finally drifted past it swam across the river, which was also very neat to watch.
Little excitement or interest followed on the home stretch other than an overloaded tourist jetboat blasting past us and one huge salmon jumping that seemed like it could have been a small whale. We arrived at the Foster Bar takeout at about 11:30am with one group on the ramp, perfect timing as the ramp had completely filled up by the time we were ready to go. It was roasting hot and we managed to dry nearly all of our gear in short order.
It was great to finally see what the Rogue was about after so many years of hearing about it. The camps, wildlife, scenery, generally mild whitewater, and standout couple miles of Mule Creek Canyon were the easy highlights. It felt a bit busy for a wild & scenic river, but it is easily my favorite river I have paddled thus far in Oregon.
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