If none of that sounds weird enough, after introducing ourselves to our river guide Karen and two companions from San Diego Bill and Carol, we boarded our raft and headed for Hell’s Gate Gorge.
The names are a bit scarier than the actual places, but we were holding on for dear life at the first set of rapids. They ended up not being quite as terrifying as we thought and we settled in to drift, enjoy the sunshine and scenery and chat to our companions.
We’d obviously been a bit gay opting out of the kayaks so the kindly Bill and Carol let us borrow theirs for three sets of rapids, including the ominous Widow-maker. Paddling furiously and blindly for thirty seconds in the teeth of, oh, inches of white water, we made it out the other side. Not particularly difficult or treacherous in hindsight, and Karen was brilliant in guiding us through, but exhilarating none the less.
Along the way we saw wild turkeys, a beaver, herons, and a doe drank the water feet from us as we quietly drifted past. With giant conifers clinging to rocky cliffs rising steeply all around us, it was a magical experience.
We were done by 3.30, said our goodbyes, promised to exchange blogs (http://www.rogue-river-rafting-trips.com/) and set off for a place called Brookings on Karen’s recommendation (more of that later!).
