Tag Archives: camping

June Rafting

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I never got around to posting more photos and blabber about the Rafting trip in June. I intend to remedy that right now.

I have been on a fair number of Extreme Things activities/trips (probably approaching 20 or so) and they have always been fun and very rewarding (even Strawberry Peak which beat me like a bitch), but the Kern Rafting Trip is likely the most fun I have had yet. I don’t know if the astral bodies happened to align perfectly that weekend or if that combination of calendar numbers ignited my joy chakra; but I was constantly in high spirits, bursting with energy, and having a great time all weekend.

Our camp site was directly in the blazing Sun—that weekend was relentless, but the awe-inspiring white-water river nearby more than compensated. We lounged around on immense rocks, explored, foolishly swam through rapids, and tubed. The next day brought the main event, 3-4 trips down separate areas of the River Kern. I couldn’t stop smiling the whole time. It whet my appetite for rafting. I certainly plan on returning next year, although I want to up the stakes—class 5. I’d love to try out white-water kayaking as well.

The weekend saw the birth of a running gag that may never die—Team Sausage—the best damn rafting team the Kern has ever seen. There were numerous high points to the weekend, but nothing can top the look on Karl’s face after being launched from our raft into a roaring rapid. That’s when my smile was the widest.

More Sausage Selections

Catch-up Part 2 (of 5): Camp Nowhere

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I’ve been relatively silent for the last couple of months.
Thus, it’s time to play catch-up.
Here is what has been going on between April and the present.

After being beaten by the unrelenting Strawberry Peak, I accompanied Extreme Things for an overnight backpacking excursion into the Sheep Mountain Wilderness. I had a newly purchased Camelbak, four quarts of water, ample foodstuffs, water shoes, a light tent, and everything else Erika and I would need. This time I would be prepared. Unfortunately, neither Erika or me were well-versed in the multitudes of backpacking sleeping bags. While everyone else could compress their sleeping bags down to the size of a football, we lugged oversized cottony Swiss-cake rolls six miles into the wilderness (as you’ll see in the photos). The learning never ends.

The hike brought us back down the path to the Bridge to Nowhere. We continued past it heading deeper into the mountains. By nightfall, our group of over a dozen squeezed multiple tents into a small area overlooking the mild rapids of the river. I quickly regretted my decision to leave behind a jacket as temperatures plummeted with the setting sun. My regrets paled in comparison to Karl’s after his drunken stumble into the ice-cold river after midnight. We had a great time joking around and dining on mediocre camp food while admiring two of our group cooking carne asada, rice, and later, eggs. I am awaiting the debut of his outdoors cooking program any day now.

The next morning we all hiked six miles back to our cars. Our hike was probably considerably more enjoyable than the man we met earlier who had gashed open his knee after slipping on a rock. My highlight was an uncomfortable deposit beneath some bushes along the river’s edge.

Egads! More Adventure Awaits!