1997 White Water Rafting Trip

The Planning Saga

With quite a few people telling me all winter long that they will definitely go when I plan the 1997 trip, with experience on my side, and with much more lead time than last year; I figured this was going to be an easy planning endeavor. I was quite wrong. I had new curve balls thrown at me with overwhelming regularity, and a plan that kept changing -- often after reservations were made and payments charged.

The first thing I did was call last year's operator, find a weekend with enough open slots to be of interest, and put a hold -- for several days -- on 10 slots. The weekend of June 7 was selected. This is where my first of a series of minor goofs took place: Not until after the first batch of reservations were confirmed and paid for, did I discover that I confused my brochures and was dealing with a different operator than last year's. Oh well. Next, I sent an Email to just about everyone I thought might be interested in going. I quickly got 8 confirmations (including myself). However, all those people whom over the winter were saying that they will definitely go couldn't, wouldn't, or simply didn't join (some were abroad, so they had an excuse). Not one of last year's participants -- as enthusiastic as they were last year about going again -- was among the confirmed. The 8 confirmed included 6 HNC employees (including myself), and 2 non-HNC women (whom I have met on a skiing trip). Half the participants needed to return after one day, and half would stay for two days. The emerging plan seemed simple enough. Have 2 cars go, one return on Saturday, and one on Sunday. Since several people who expressed interest asked for a little more time to decide/confer with family/significant-others, I held up on making hotel reservations until I have my final count.

This is when the curve balls starting flying. First, one of the confirmed reservations had to cancel for personal reasons. Like everyone else who threw curve balls my way, he was very responsible with it, agreeing to pay whatever costs might be incurred on account of his cancellation. With the bookings this close to the trip day, the costs are entirely non-refundable, so the only way to avoid making him pay for a trip he won't be taking would be to find a replacement participant. Well, suddenly, when they are needed, all those who asked for a little more time to decide decided not to go. Hotel booking had to be delayed until we know how many people are going.

Calls went around everywhere to try to recruit a replacement. By the time we found a replacement -- on the week of the trip -- all the hotels in the area, save one, were booked solid. That last one had exactly the number of rooms we needed (the room selection criteria was that each person will get their own bed, and genders are segregated by rooms). The rooms were booked.

The next curve ball was when one participant asked, and was willing to pay for, for a private room. Being that, after all, this is a vacation trip and it is intended for everyone to have fun -- I was certainly trying to accommodate. I called the hotel, and after some "arm twisting" (using the size of our booking as a leverage) I convinced them to "create" another room. (My best guess as to the source of that created room is that they were holding a room for someone past the deposit deadline). Another complication -- which only later I realized some of it's subtle effects -- was that I could no longer use flat cost sharing among the participants. Last year, I ignored questions like who got to sleep in a bigger room and how many were in each room; simply stating that once hotel rooms utilization was optimized (i.e. we got the cheapest combination of rooms and suites for our criteria), cost were shared evenly. This year, with some participants asking that costs be minimized as much as possible and others willing to spend more for extra-convenience, the problem of hotel room sharing and costing suddenly became intricate.

The next curve ball came when two of the individuals who were confirmed for two nights remembered that they had a baseball game on Sunday and changed their mind to one night. Suddenly, I found myself with too many rooms -- and not the correct size rooms -- for the second night. And, of course, nothing is ever refundable in these sorts of remote resort hotels (especially when bookings are as tight as they were). Oh well, I will try to negotiate some damage control with the hotel when I get there.

The next curve ball came when, on Tuesday, I found that the Friday of the trip's departure I would be in Phoenix on business. The business trip plan had me fly to Arizona in the morning and be back in San Diego by afternoon -- leaving just over an hour between when I got back and the planned departure time. Whatever margin for last minute maneuverability I thought I had was gone. Furthermore, if anything were to go wrong with my return flight, I -- and those who depended on me driving them -- would be in a jam. My return flight was not late, but it was extremely bumpy. Being somewhat motion-sensitive to begin with, by the time we landed I could barely walk. I had to ask a co-worker to drive me home. The one-hour was all I had to make a quick recovery before going on a six hours drive.

And, just for a few extra last-minute curve balls, the modeling group at HNC where some of the trip's participants work, scheduled a group meeting just at departure time, and then moved another half an hour later for a welcoming "tea" for some new group members. I was simply going to miss these, but some of us -- including the speaker at the group meeting, and the boss of some of those new group members -- could not. Oh well. Departure time, originally slated for 4PM, was shot to pieces. We won't get there until very close to midnight, and any dream of getting us to meet at some intermediate point for a joint dinner -- already a very unlikely prospect -- was out of the question completely. It's every car for itself, and we'll meet at the hotel. I called the hotel to let them know that whichever car arrives first, even if it isn't mine (all the reservations were in my name), to let them in the rooms. As it turned, my car arrived last.

• Dan Shoham.
• Sue Curtis.
• Mike Kennedy.
• Hari Titan.
• Carl Miller.
• Steve Biafore.
• TJ Horan.
• Luci Rowe.
• Margaret Lee.

Carl is Mike's housemate. Luci and Margaret I have met during a ski trip. Everyone else works for HNC Software. All the HNC participants are modelers, or work closely with the modelers groups. Carl used to work for HNC and knows most HNC participants (he now works for a communication company). Luci is a CPA, and Margaret an accountant. They met each other years ago when they were co-workers and stayed in touch since.

The final plan had 3 cars. My Saturn with Luci and Margaret, Sue's 2-seater-convertible with Mike, and TJ's BMW with Hari, Steve, and Carl. We all meet at the Adventure Roost Motel in Wofford Heights -- about 5 hours north of San Diego -- on Friday night. We stay at the hotel Friday night. Saturday morning we drive to Lake Isabella, about 6 miles from Wofford Heights. We raft all day Saturday. After we eat dinner together, two cars -- Sue's and TJ's -- return Saturday night, carrying 6 participants with them. Carl, Margaret, and myself stay another night at the hotel, enjoy a day of random Sequoia National Forest activities Sunday, and then return to San Diego Sunday night.

My own departure time was delayed, first, by my poor state after a very bumpy flight from Phoenix. I called Luci and Margaret to let them know I will be late. They will be waiting for me at Luci's home in San Marcos. I was just too fried to hit the road. I simply sat in my cube, eyes closed, trying to recover. By the time I felt well enough to head out, Friday's rush hour traffic was in full swing. The entire distance from HNC's parking lot to Lake Hodges -- 22 miles -- was in bumper-to-bumper traffic. Just what a recovering motion sickness victim wishes for… With some confusion about the directions, I spent an extra half an hour touring scenic San Marcos, before I stopped at a gas station and searched their map to reconcile with the directions I had. After a short catch-my-breath break, we hit the road north around 6:30pm, about two hours behind the original plan.

Passing the time chatting, and having much fun at it, 65 miles later, in the middle of some very deep I-15 wilderness I noticed that my fuel gauge is on very hard empty. Since analog fuel gauges are poor indicators, I make it a practice to always reset my trip-o-meter when I fill my car up. The number of miles driven since the last fill-up allows for an independent estimate of my fuel position. Once, about a year ago, right after California forced gas stations to change to lower-fuel-efficiency (but more expensive) "oxygenated fuel", I ran out of gas. The only good thing to come out of that experience was that I learned my car's limit: A full tank of gas runs out after 280 miles. Right now, my trip-o-meter was now showing 307 miles. Given that most of these miles have been on a highway -- where fuel efficiency is higher -- I could explain why the car was still driving. However, just how much more efficient, and thus how many more miles I have, I didn't know. The signs indicated (and I also knew from my frequent travels through this region during the ski season) that the next gas station is in Corona, 7 miles hence. I reduced my speed to 60 MPH (which is the optimal fuel efficiency speed), shut down the air conditioner, and made it safely to the gas station. Well, one more data point about my car: When driven on a highway, it can make at least 314 miles on a full tank.

As we entered the first mountain range, by San Bernardino, the weather turned stormy and it began raining. The rain would continue -- on and off, sometimes very hard -- for most of the rest of the drive. We were now driving through the edges of the storm I flew through in the afternoon.

We stopped for dinner near Victorville, 50 miles farther north, shortly after we turned from I-15 to Route 395, at a place called Outpost. It is a truck stop with a giant parking lot. Some co-workers who travel that way when skiing in the Sierra recommended it. While well enough to drive, I found that dining at a grease joint was still outside my range. I ended up leaving behind most of the food I ordered. Luci and Margaret enjoyed their dinner, and even played a handful of songs on the Jukebox.

After dinner, Luci drove.

We had no difficulty finding our way -- other than a few errors that were corrected within a few minutes. When we were one hour away from our destination, I called the hotel and found that none of the other cars have yet to arrive. That certainly removed my worry that my delays would end up forcing everyone to wait for me for several hours. Now, even if ours were the last car to arrive, it would still be within an hour of everyone else.

Indeed, ours was the last car to arrive; and, indeed, no one was wasting time waiting for us. The hotel followed my phone instructions, and gave everyone access to the correct rooms. The group left word with the hotel desk that they will be at a tavern across the street, and indeed they were all there -- and in good spirits. We made the introductions, had some drinks, some laughs, and played some pool. Shortly after midnight, it was time to head back to the hotel and go to sleep.

With the meeting time at the outfitter set for 8:15AM, and with the requirement for a decent breakfast before the physical rigors of rafting, we designated 6:30AM as the meeting time.

Before Rafting

Some dirt-bike enthusiasts who were staying in the same hotel made sleeping past 5:30AM impossible. Meeting at 6:30AM, thus, proved more realistic than we expected. Margaret and Luci took a walk by the lake, while I insisted on dozing until 6:30AM.

Before we left, I asked the hotel to try and sell one of the rooms we rented for the second night. Given the amount of headache I have already given them, they were justifiably annoyed at our constantly changing plans, and made it very clear that if they don't -- I will still be responsible for paying for it.

The morning plan had us drive the 6 miles to Lake Isabella, find the place where the outfitter is located, make our arrival known, and then go eat breakfast. This way, any time lost finding the place would not risk us missing the appointed time. I drove in the lead, local area map in hand, and the other two cars following. Lake Isabella is, essentially, a one-street-town. Nonetheless, I found a way to be confused by the signage and miss that one street. The dead-end reached 100 yards later made that mistake clear, as three cars -- in perfect synchronicity -- made a U-turn. We had no (further) difficulties finding the outfitter, and were greeted by Tisha, a very energetic-looking guide, who was just arriving for work. We asked her for a recommended breakfast spot where we could be in-and-out in about 30 minutes (it was 7:45AM). Tisha recommended Nelda's, a short walk away.

Upon arrival at Nelda's, we informed the waitresses that our time is short, and that we must be out within 30 minutes. We were told that this wouldn't be a problem. We ordered our breakfasts, and then went on to sit for about 40 minutes waiting to be served -- watching other customers walking in, ordering their meals, getting them, eating them, and leaving; all while we were waiting for our orders. The waitresses kept repeating that our food is just about ready. While waiting, some of the women amongst us played a fanciful game of choosing who will be on their respective rafts. We hoped that with our group being about half the total rafting tour, and with the guide knowing where we are, they wouldn't leave without us. The food wasn't that great either. Once again, I found myself leaving most of my meal on the table. The generous 7.5% tip I left reflected my enthusiasm with the quality of service. We got back to Kern Rivers Tours around 8:55AM.

The only formality we had to go through was signing wavers that state that we understand the risks of rafting. (Interestingly, they never asked me to sign the various credit card charges I made over the phone. As a business, they are taking un-needed risks by not so asking!). The guides gave us a quick pre-bus-boarding instruction. The gist of it was that we are to take just about nothing with us on the raft. Lock everything in the car, and they will keep the keys safely. They were nice enough to hold some of my fruits and pops in their refrigerator. We boarded the bus around 9:15AM, and arrived at our departure point around 9:45AM.

The overall guide gave us a detailed lecture on how to properly secure the life jackets, the language of rafting instructions, what to do if thrown overboard, etc. the instructions were very similar to those from last year's trip. The only difference was that this operator was using 4-person Scout rafts in addition to the more traditional 6-person rafts (not counting the guide). Our group took two Scout rafts. Carl, Sue, Steve, and TJ were in one raft. Margaret, Mike, Hari, and I were in the other. Luci volunteered to be cast among strangers in one of the 6-person rafts. We were told that water levels are at 3000 CPS (Cubic-feet Per Second?), about thrice normal, and that we should thus expect an extra-robust day.

Rafting

Around 10AM we hit the water. Our raft's guide, Josh, struck us as a very easygoing, very capable guide. He gave us a quick instruction "addendum" about his preferences in guiding. Mike and Hari sat in front, Margaret and I in the second row, and Josh guiding in the back. A few minutes later we were going through the first rapids: White Maiden, A splashy Class II rapid. A bit wet, but very much in good spirits, our rafting day has started. As simple as these rapids looked, they were enough for one of the other rafters to find himself overboard. That rafter, an enormous fellow, looked like someone who is well experienced in such outdoor activities, but clearly looks was deceiving in this case. With three of the five of us combining our strengths, we managed to pull him into our raft, and then -- shivering and dripping -- passed him back to his own raft.

The next rapid was Sundown Falls; a Class III rapid with overgrown bushes around it forming low arching canopies. With the water level above normal, the clearance was below normal. As we passed through, I was struck in the face by a rather thick branch (I saw it just before colliding). The encounter left me with a bleeding face for the next hour and a vigorous scar for the next week. It wasn't too painful, though, and did not detract too much from my fun the rest of the day.

The rest of the morning we went through a series of Class III and Class IV rapids, including Silver Staircase, Dead Man's Curve, and Preparation H. During that last rapid, one raft was thrown hard against a boulder and then another raft was thrown against the first one. Most (all?) of the members of the first raft ended up overboard. One, who tried to hold on to the first raft when the second raft rammed it, ended up with a dislocated shoulder. Josh, our guide, was able to relocate the shoulder. The woman, who was in great pain while her shoulder was dislocated, while surely still quite sore, was all smiling and laughing after it was relocated.

The next rapid, The Royal Flush, is Class V-VI. As such, it is not considered navigable by the likes of us. Carrying the rafts on our shoulders, we ported them around the rapids. This is also where we broke for lunch. While some guides prepared lunch and other guides helped the injured woman, some of the rafters took advantage of a local hot spring for a short spa experience.

During the lunch break, we met some of the other groups. We were the largest group. There was a second group from San Diego -- including the injured woman -- of long-time friends. One of the members of that group happens to know Larry Spelhaug, the boss of some of our group members. There were also two women oil-workers from Bakers, and several couples and (adult) families.

Lunch was comprised of do-it-yourself, deli-style sandwiches.

After lunch, we moved the injured woman down stream a short distance to a point where there is easy road access, for vehicular evacuation. The rest of us continued.

We went through Surprise, Hari-Kari, Horseshoe Falls, and finally Pinball. Before the final rapids of the day, around 2PM, we took a mid-afternoon break. There was a tree swing-rope, from which one could jump into the river. Most rafters did so, some several times. I took the opportunity for a rest/nap in the raft under the tree's shadow. From my position, I had a good view (when my eyes were open) of the tree swingers.

After Rafting

Rafting concluded around 3PM. Our raft was the first to reach the loading area, but being a Scout had to be loaded last (the smaller Scouts are loaded on top of the larger rafts). After a break, loading up the rafts on the bus's trailer, a soda pop, and generally collecting various implements of rafting (life jackets, paddles, etc.); the guides assembled us for a group photo. For extra joy, a bucket of cold water was poured on the unsuspecting assembled while they were being pictured. Around 3:30PM we boarded the bus for the 30 minutes ride back to Lake Isabella.

While the pictures and videotape of our trip were being finalized, we had an opportunity to change, have refreshments, chat, play Frisbee, and look over the gift shop on Kern River Tour's facilities. I bought a table-napkin with an illustrated map of the Lower Kern River, where we rafted. The 35 minutes videotape showed all rafts going through each rapid, most flipping events, the tree swing fun, and the final -- wet -- group picture. It had amusing narration provided by the photographer. We ordered two videotapes (one for the group, and one for Steve) and a total of 17 photographs -- 8 of our raft and 9 of the other raft. These photos will be scanned into the web page when we get them. The tape will be copied for everyone. Once again, using our group's buying power, I negotiated a 10% (approximately) discount.

Around 5PM, we left Kern River Tour,  and went to a nice Mexican restaurant, Don Perico's, a few minutes away in Lake Isabella. There we had a relaxed, substantial, dinner. With almost no one else taking such an early dinner, the restaurant was essentially at our disposal, and service was quite good (but not perfect -- they messed Hari's order). With our healthy appetite, food was good and plentiful. Even the price was reasonable. Certainly, Don Perico's is a far cry from Nelda's.

Dinner conversation centered, "surprisingly," about the events of the day. At one point I asked the members of the other raft "Did your guide also imply to your group that you are the best group around" (as did ours). After a surprised pause, Sue answered "These guides sure are trained to provide positive feedback".

After dinner, Sue and Luci drove directly to San Diego. Margaret will bring Luci whatever she left in the hotel room on Sunday. TJ, Mike, Hari, and Steve drove back to our hotel room in Wofford Heights for a shower and change of clothing, and then back to San Diego. Carl, Margaret, and I also went back to the hotel. To my surprise, the hotel sold the extra room we had. From their -- justified -- level of annoyance, and considering that they get paid either way, I figured they wouldn't even bother. The proprietor said that it was gone before 11AM. I guess that, as annoyed as they were, they weren't about to turn away customers knocking on the door. They still, pointedly, charged me 40 cents for the cost of the phone call to put a credit on my account. With the extra hotel room sold, most of the damage for our incorrect bookings was controlled. Our room sizes were not optimal for our party (we could have all fitted in the suite, but instead we had two separate rooms), but close enough.

After a little nap, a shower, and a change of clothing, Carl, Margaret, and myself looked through local literature and brochures for things to do tonight and tomorrow night. We decided that while there is still daylight, we should walk by the lake where Luci and Margaret took their morning stroll. We must have taken a wrong turn, because by the time we reached the lakefront, it was in a bug-infested marshy area -- certainly not matching Luci's description of her morning's walk. After a short, relaxing, break at a nearby playground, we went back to the hotel as twilight turned into darkness.

We then walked across to the tavern with some card games. Being well before their heavy business hours, the tavern was nearly empty and they didn't mind that we played there (we ordered a few drinks). Margaret taught us how to play a game she brought called Phases (or, maybe, 10 Phases). It is loosely based on Gin-Remi. I quickly took a lead in that game, and then never looked back.

Quite tired, we turned in around 10PM.

Breakfast

The breakfast menu had a suspiciously remarkable similarity to that of Nelda's. With our group size, this time, being only 3, service was fine. The only problem was that every few minutes there was a power outage. It took about half an hour before they had power on for long enough to make Carl's toast.

After breakfast we checked out of the hotel. Actually, checking out simply meant leave the keys in the rooms and leave.

Planing the Day

Our first destination was a Forest Service station in Kernville, 4 miles north. We will use their information (in addition to whatever we learned from the various brochures and literature we found in the hotel and restaurant) to decide how to plan the rest of the day. The ranger running the station, while polite and courteous, clearly preferred to finish with us as soon as possible and return to doing nothing. When we asked a question she would pull out some flyer, circle some spot on it, and give rapid fire, standard I-have-been-over-this-a-thousand-times-before answers which consisted mainly of suggesting we read the volumes of literature around the station. She was very efficient in "processing" us so as not to keep the long line of guests waiting. Except that there was no line. In the 15-20 minutes we were there, not a soul came within sight.

We learned that even though we were an hour or so into Sequoia National Forest, the nearest sequoia tree is an hour and a half farther. Considering that at the end of the day we would be driving back to San Diego, adding 3 additional driving hours to our itinerary was unattractive. We asked where would be a good place to view rafters on the (Class V) Forks of the Kern, and if there are any rafting expeditions there today. The ranger told us how we need to apply for a permit if we wanted to raft, and that the number of rafters is controlled. We asked if anyone has a permit for today (so we can go watch them raft). All the ranger would do is tell us to go to the license office in Lake Isabella (10 miles away) and ask there. We figured that there is very little help we are going to be getting here. Going 10 miles to another Federal Government office sounded like a waste of time, so we didn't.

Hiking and Rafting-Watching

We decided to go up North along the Upper Kern River. Find good viewpoints and hiking areas, and watch rafters pass by.

About 10 miles North from Kernville, we stopped along what looked like a nice access point to the river. We walked, through the riverbank growth to the edge of the river and discovered that there is very little that can be seen from the bank. We decided to hike up the side of the mountain to see if we can see a little farther. The climb was relatively benign, but the plants made it difficult at places. The higher we got, the more of the river we could see, but also the steeper the climb got. Carl, claiming prior mountain-hiking experience, continued over the immediate ridge, while Margaret and I returned to the car and drove it into position to collect Carl 15 minutes later. From the ridge Carl was able to see some nice rapids about half a mile farther upriver (north), but no rafts anywhere. We had some fruits and soda pops (still cold after being in the hotel room refrigerator the night before), and then drove farther north.

We drove another 10 miles or so, seeing no rafts, and very few exciting rapids (although, admittedly, often the river would be obscured from us, so we might have missed some). Eventually, we passed by a party of teen-agers populated rafts. We figured that they are unlikely to attempt any significant rapids, so we didn't follow them. A bit farther upriver, we passed a mighty rapid. We stopped, and walked over the rocks to a good viewpoint. After a rapid sequence of several class IV (?) rapids, obstructing rocks channeled the entire river through a narrow passage -- creating a very spectacular, if short, final rapid. While as energetic as Royal Flush (The rapid we had to port around yesterday), this one was much shorter (so if one were to fall out of the boat, it would be a few seconds, at most, before they passed the turbulent spot). We stayed there for a while; taking pictures and eating fruits, in the hope of seeing rafts passing by. None did.

We drove farther north, passed an artificial waterfall (Salmon Falls [?]) and the collection point for a hydroelectric power plant. The artificial Waterfall is too steep for rafting (last year, when we rafted the Upper Kern River, we drove around this fall). Finally, we saw a single raft passing by. I made a U-turn, and we caught on with the raft. Two people, with a covered jeep jam-packed (to the roof) with supplies and bags, were also watching that raft pass some rapids. It turned out that the people in the jeep are with the people in the raft. They organized their own expedition, and were taking turns rafting and driving. We asked them if they intend to go through that energetic rapid we saw earlier. They said that it is too dangerous, and all rafters drive around it. (Unfortunately, not knowing the name of the rapid, we could only describe it. I'm not sure if they understood the description enough to realize that we are not talking about the artificial waterfall.).

We drove Southbound, seeing this lone raft pass by at various points where we stopped. We occasionally saw a few other rafts, but not in any of the interesting rapids. We stopped for fruits, raft-watching, and stone-skipping exercises on a sandy beach.

We continued south until we saw a full bus of Chuck Richard's Rafting (the outfitter used last year) with rafts in tow, heading north. We made another U-turn (although we had to go down some distance before we were able to turn around) to "chase" the bus. The bus must have taken a turnoff and ended up at a point out of sight from the road, as we were unable to find it. When we reached the Kern River Bridge -- the launching point of last year's trip, and the last point were the road parallels the river, we realized we lost the bus.

There were actually two bridges there: One for cars, and one for hikers. It looks like the hiking bridge was the original one, and the road used to pass through it, but -- for whatever reason -- a second bridge was built for cars and the first bridge was "downgraded" to hiking only. A small paved parking lot (the only one we saw north of Kernville) and Department of Forestry signs suggested that this is a good spot to stop. The signs stated that river hiking trails begin here.

We packed our bags with more fruits, towels, and bathing suits, and decided to launch our major hiking effort of the day from this point. We crossed the hiking bridge and begun going downriver. The hiking trail turned narrower and rougher very quickly. While still passable, it quickly became a very challenging course. Eventually, it was hard to believe the path would even be considered a trail. It seemed well below the level that the signs seemed to have suggested. After about an hour and a half of hiking, we stopped for lunch on a rock protruding into the river. Any considerations of swimming were retired when we realized how cold were the waters. The Upper Kern River collects snow melts from the Sierras. It then drains into Lake Isabella, where the waters have an opportunity to be warmed by the sun before continuing into the Lower Kern River. This explains why the waters here were so much colder than yesterday.

After lunch we decided that trying to continue hiking farther down river didn't look like a great idea. Instead, we would go back. In fact, we would simply climb up the riverbank to the road and then walk along the road back to the car. Carl discovered that while we were enjoying lunch, his bag was strategically positioned above a nest of ants. He went on to remove from his bag, one by one, the offending insects. On the paved road, it took a mere 10 minutes to backtrack an hour and a half worth of riverbank hiking.

Upon crossing the bridge back to the parking lot, we noticed hikers along the riverbank upriver from us. I pulled my binoculars from the car to take a closer look. It would appear that we were walking downriver through the rough terrain while the hiking trails advertised in the signs were in the opposite direction. A more careful reading indicated that this section is the Forks of the Kern section where the class V rapids are. Oh well. If we had only understood that (or if the ranger bothered explaining it to us), we would have had a much better organized day of hiking-and-rafting-watching (not to suggest in any way that we did not have a lot of fun as it was). Since it was already 2pm, we decided that all further driving would be southbound.

We stopped at a riverside canteen for ice cream. While there, we ran into the other San Diego group from yesterday's rafting (including the injured women). They have been camping in the area, but their plans were somewhat disrupted by the injury. They were in very good spirits nonetheless.

Driving along, we saw an unloaded Chuck Richard's bus as it was awaiting rafters. The bus driver told us where the rafters will be and what type of rapids they will be rafting. We took advantage of a picturesque cliff towering a 100 or so feet straight above the water -- overseeing a wide section of the river, including some very spectacular rapids -- to observe. We saw a half dozen or so rafts, and a similar number of kayaks, pass through the rapids. Quite a sight.

With the bus driver's directions to guide us, we were able to then drive ahead of the rafts and await them in the next series of rapids. This time we were right at river level -- able to see the rafters and kayaks closely. We didn't see anyone fall into the water (this late in the day, the rafters would already be at a skill level where they can avoid taking a bath). However, we did get to see some kayaks flip around and give the boater a very through soaking. Chuck Richard (or some guy who looks remarkably like the Chuck on the brochures) was waiting below each rapid, in his kayak, in case someone needed his help. No one did.

In this last hour, we got to see more rafting than we expected for the entire day -- completing our agenda.

The Drive Home

We returned to Kernville, gassed up the car, looked at a local antiques store (Margaret got a small picture frame), reviewed the map, and left for home around 4:30pm.

The path home took us through the other side of Lake Isabella, and then along the same path as our way up. I drove, while Carl and Margaret (mostly) slept. Too bad, they missed some very spectacular views as we passed from the lake, through the winding mountain passes, alongside the mountains, the valleys, and then the desert. While the desert was not quite as attractive as the mountains, there were some points of interest there as well. For instance, by Victorville, we passed along a huge (a few square miles) array of solar energy collectors (thermal, I believe). I never knew of this facility (it's too large to not be connected to the power grid, but if such energy production was cheaper than other sources there would have been a lot more of those -- so I have to assume this is a full size experimental solar power station).

We stopped for dinner around 7:30pm at the Rancho Cucamonga Claim Jumper restaurant where Route 66 meets I-15. This is a favorite spot of mine, which I frequented often on the way back from skiing trips. The Claim Jumper is known for outlandishly large portion sizes and long waiting time (often, around 2 hours). Typically, when we visit them, we sign up for a table and in the meantime have appetizers and deserts in the bar. With portion sizes so large, having a main meal is no longer necessary, and we just pay and leave. Unlike the winter, this time it was still daylight when we reached the Claim Jumper, the line was a mere 40 minutes, and we actually got to a table. Needing a good break, we had a very relaxed dinner. Continuing our various movies trivia game (and involving the waitresses in them).

We left around 9:30PM, with Carl at the wheel. (I was too tired to continue driving). Carl's love of tailgating concerned me (especially considering that my car does not have the extra-high performance he is used to from his car). He attempted to assure me that he is very good at tailgating.

We reached Luci's home in San Marcos just minutes before 11PM. Luci requested not to be awakened if we reach her home later than that hour. We stopped at Luci's for a short break and to give her the bags she left at the hotel. Margaret took her car home, and Carl and I went on to the HNC parking lot where Carl's car was parked.

I reached home around midnight.

Conclusions:

Links