I have gone white-water rafting with friends a few times now, always with the same company - All Outdoors. The experiences have been great (rapids, food, friends, fun!), and here are the individual trip repots:
It all started
innocently enough. A group of folks organized by Deedee decided to go skiing.
Deedee invited Matt - a friend I met though a mutual friend at Stanford,
and Matt invited me. There we were, enjoying a ferocious game of speed
scrabble in a North Tahoe cabin after a day of putting grooves in powder.
Then in happened.
I don't know what brought it up. I'm not sure how the conversation went. The fact remains that caught up in the spirit of getting a group of folks for an outdoorsy outing was a blast, and we did not want to wait until next ski season. White-water rafting came up in that context. Several folks were quick to agree to it would be a fun concept. The seeds were planted.
Time passed. And passed. Spring came and went. I pestered Matt to pester Deedee to organize a rafting outing. Much literature was acquired. Little action was taken. Desperation was starting to set in. Late May arrives. While waiting for lunch to nuke, I was staring at the bulletin board in the company cafeteria when a new ad caught my eye. Rafting company offering discounts on trips. At this point, the desperation level was high enough that I decided to do the unspeakable - to organize the trip myself. There are people who are social hubs, and those are the people that should organize group outings. Alas, I am not one of them. Nevertheless, desperate times call for desperate measures.
So out
went the mass email. Rafting anyone? Lo and behold, people replied!
Matt, obviously feeling guilty that he has not made progress on organizing
it himself or pestering Deedee, signed up. Wendi and Tony, friends from
Pomona College days decided to venture forth. Mitch, a cooking and ultimate
frisbee buddy from years back took the bait, and managed to talk his friend
Morgen into it as well.
But wait! Rafting season is in the spring - not much time left. I talked to the rafting company, and sure enough, time was tight. A date was picked - July 11-12 on an overnight rafting / camping trip on the Middle Fork of the American River (Class III-IV rapids) with All-Outdoors rafting. Money was paid. Reservations were made while they could be. At the last minute, with only 1 spot remaining (out of 30), Matt's friend Shu was added to the roster. Admissions closed.
Everyone got equipped and ready. Dreading the 5 am departure time on Saturday, which was deemed needed in order to arrive at the river by 9 am, we all attempted to get to sleep early on Friday and failed. Saturday morning, everyone showed up reasonably on-time. The borrowed Pathfinder was packed, and off we went into the wild black yonder.
Drive, drive, drive. The river is on the way to Tahoe, so the road was very reminiscent of many skiing trips. Unfortunately, Mitch the navigator (a title he has surely lost now) did not notice the exit we were supposed to take. We were making very good time due to high speeds and lack of traffic, and drove right by our exit. Partly due to the instinct of heading to Tahoe, which was too far in this case; partly due to lack of sleep; and definitely in no part due to my negligence in missing the exit sign [grin], we missed the exit. This was not noticed until we had driven above the 5000 foot elevation level, about 35 miles too far. With a little map consultation, Mitch figured out that a U-turn was called for, and executed.
The thoughts of what we were going to do since we were so early turned to dread of whether we'll make it on time or will they leave without us. Of course, given that we had paid them well over $2,000, the odds of them leaving us behind due to slight tardiness were small. But that is a logical thought, and those are rare with immanent time pressure upon us. Flying back, we almost missed the exit again in the opposite direction. Almost.
We made it to about 10 minutes behind schedule. The camp was under 2000 feet. We were far from the last people there. A big sigh of relief. Breakfast. Packing our supplies into waterproof bags completed the morning. Wendi and Tony, who stayed overnight near the rafting departure point joined us, we signed our lives away, and got into the bus to go to the launch point.
Driving down to the river was a scenic 40 minute adventure. The road was rough, windy and narrow. The bus was tall, wide and unstable - a converted school van. Fortunately, we made it. On the bus, we got instruction about what to do, with all contingencies but nuclear war covered. We learned about the gold that was discovered in that valley in 1848, leading to the onslaught of diggers in '49. We learned about last year's floods that sent the river higher than it has been in decades. We learned about the proper use of Oscar, a companion on our trip that was needed due to extreme lack of toilet facilities on the river. We were ready. Helmets on head, life vests on, sunscreen blocking out most of the onslaught of the shade-free 90 degree sun, we walked from the bus drop-off zone to the rafts. We were split up into 6 rafts of 6 folks each - a guide and 5 passengers. Matt, Shu, Tony, Wendi, and myself were in one raft, which Mitch and Morgen shared a raft with a couple of rather boisterous sisters. Our guide, Kimp, was a 20-something quiet competent river-goer that set us at ease about the trip. Our raft was 5th of 6. Mitch and Morgen were on the tail raft. Grab an oar, get in the raft, push off, and off you go!
The first thing we discovered about the Middle Fork of the American was that it does not grant you much of a warm-up period. From the get-go, we ran into class III+ rapids called Breakfast Blowout for appropriate reasons. Fortunately, the name did not apply to our raft. Splashing through the waves was a blast! We were all a little nervous and unsure of ourselves, and not did not have much control, but Kimp kept our raft in a nice groove, and we were soon more at ease with the situation. There was a company photographer over the first set of rapids - an excellent capitalist venture where they sell you photos of you rafting for exorbitant prices. Of course, I purchased one.
After the warm-up rapids and a bit of calm drifting, we arrived at the
most challenging rapids of the first day, class IV style. They were paralleling
a tunnel that had been blasted in the late 1800's, one of the longest caves
blasted in bedrock with rather primitive dynamite of the day in their search
for gold. There was another rafting company that went through the tunnel
- 
the entrance to which was a furious class V waterfall. It was fun watching
them getting on the floor of their rafts, paddles sticking up in the air,
hoping for the best as they went over. It looked scary, but I'm a bit disappointed
we did not attempt it. Next time.
The class IV rapids we went through were somewhat challenging given that all of us save our guide has 2 hours of rafting experience to our name. We got thoroughly drenched, I fell into the raft once and almost knocked Matt, who I fell into, out of the raft, but not quite. We all managed to stay in for the duration of the voyage.
During the day, Matt and I were at the front of the raft. The front position's main duty, as we discovered, was to guard the rest of the people in the raft from getting too wet, by shielding them with our bodies. Naturally, a competition of who could remain drier ensued. We both lost miserably while the river claimed the victory. After the first rapids, things calmed down a bit to let us practice technique on calm waters. Drifting along in the majestic river valley was quite breath-taking. Or was that the water we kept swallowing? The periods of calm gave us a chance to enjoy the scenery, look for bald eagles (we didn't see any) and try to identify the various bird calls heard on the river.
The serenity was broken once in a while as we would catch up to the raft in front of us, or Mitch and Morgen's raft caught up to us. During these encounters, given the heat of the day, water fights frequently ensued. The rafts were self-bailing, so we had no buckets, and had to resort to splashing each other with our paddles. That worked out just fine.
We stopped at a nice spot to go for a hike. All-Outdoors advertised
that there is a hike each day on the trip, and I was prepared for it. I
had my backpack, a water bottle, and shoes I felt okay walking a bit in.
I feel ripped off. This hike was about a 200 yard rock-hopping adventure
to a cool crack in the rocks through which we could barely squeeze one
across, ultimately terminating at a waterfall through the gap. 
It was fun. It was not what I consider a hike. Oh well - live and learn...
While two of the guides came with us on the hike, the other four were setting up lunch. By the time we got back, we were treated to self-made sandwiches, salads, chips, and fruit. It felt nice to be pampered thus. After lunch, we set out again on the river. It was calm sailing for a little while to let us digest. Soon the river threw some more curves our way, but these were relatively small. The treacherous part of day 1 was behind us.
We stopped for the day on one of the few sandy beaches along the left bank of the river, opposite to a site where another company was lodging for the night. Our supplies had been brought to the opposite bank by truck, and we ferried them across the river. This was apparently the only time the supplies got on water, but even so, the ones not securely sealed got wet (my sleeping bag among them).
I was hoping that we would set up camp in a location from which hiking could be done. However, there was vegetation up to the side of the river, and thick tree growth along the steep banks of the valleys. There were no trails, so unless you wanted to walk in the river, which is not recommended in strong currents, hiking was not realistic. So we set up camp, and dried off instead. There was plenty of daylight remaining, so we decided to take advantage of it. Morgen, Mitch and myself tried our hand at throwing a frisbee around on a small patch of sand. Fortunately, it only ended up in the river once. Then the 3 of us joined Matt and Shu, who had previously been napping (lazy bums!) for a few games of hearts while waiting for dinner.
The guides prepared a nice bbq-cooked dinner of pasta, salad, chicken, and halibut for our dining pleasure. Once again, we were pleased with the food, and the cake that followed. Various after-dinner activities ensued, such as bucket-top-balancing-tug-of-war, wild call identification, and a river sauna (throwing water over rocks heated in the coals, and trapping the steam under a tarp). I missed out on those, as I was busy navigating the pages of Orson Scott Card's Speaker For The Dead and then sleeping.
I think the most difficult camping experience was suffered by Shu and Matt. They did not have a tent, so I lent them my tent cover to use as a ground cover, and they slept under the stars. The camp fire was set up about 15 feet from their sport, however, and the boisterous folks around the fire must have kept them up much later than they would have hoped. The rest of us enjoyed some well-deserved sleep.
Morning was marked by the guides making their ways among the tents announcing loudly that breakfast was ready. Fresh muffins, fruit, juice, hash potatoes, and made-to-order omelets got us energized for another day of tackling the river. After packing up and ferrying the equipment back to the other side of the river, we set off once again.
Our confidence level was much higher on Sunday as we kept the raft under control, did not get as wet, and managed to surf quite a few spots. Raft surfing entails finding a rock over which water is pouring fast enough to make a pool at the bottom of it that's flowing against the river (vacuum effect). You must go over or around that rock, and then paddle hard against the current to get into the dead water zone. Once in there, you remain in place without paddling, with one edge of the raft receiving water from the flow over the rock, which looks a lot like surfing on a wave. Lots of fun!
Sunday started out rather tame, giving us plenty of opportunity to digest
our hearty breakfast. 
Our guides kept warning us about the waterfall which we were to go over
(about 4'), and the one further on that is a class VI waterfall, which
we would thankfully bypass. Just before arriving at the navigable waterfall,
we stopped for another hike and lunch. The hike this time was much
longer than the first - all of about 15 minutes of rock hopping to reach
a pool at the top, under a reasonable sized waterfall. Much fun was had
swimming in the pool, and getting into the water flow of the waterfall
for a great water massage. The scenery reminded me quite a bit of Hinchinbrook
island in Australia where Elizabeth and I hiked in September of '96, and
where the unfortunate chap went over the waterfall and we had to rescue
him from near death. But that's another story.
Fortunately, the only injury this time was a minor slip by Wendi that resulted in a slightly scraped knee. I think we all took more damage in the form of sore butts / legs from bouncing on the raft for 2 days, and sunburn from spots that the sunscreen missed.
After lunch, we set off for the final leg. A bit of practice of what to do when going over the waterfall set the scene, and we were again reminded of what to do in case of various phenomena (if you fall out swim left, if the raft is about to be stuck on a rock perform a high-side maneuver, etc.). We were ready. It is quite an experience coming to the edge of the world, where the water drops out from under you. It took a lot of convincing to get us to row forward right at the edge of the fall when your instincts are screaming for you to get down. Finally, as the front of the raft started to dip, Kimp issued the GET DOWN! directive, with which we gladly complied. The raft tipped forward, and started dropping.
Thoughts of the previous raft that went over raced through my mind. That raft bounced off a rock on the right at the top of the falls, which spun it sideways - the position in which it went over, only to be bounced off a rock on the left at the bottom. Everyone was fine and I'm sure they enjoyed it quite a bit, but it looked scary to see the backs of their helmets bouncing this way and that like balls in a pinball machine. I was expecting a similar ride.
However, our raft stayed very straight. As Kimp later said, that was the straightest he's done the falls. Just as the raft was leaning towards vertical, the front touched bottom, bounced up, and straightened out. That was it. The big fall we were afraid of was a piece of cake. We attributed this to our obvious skills acquired in the previous day of rafting. Kimp's directions and control might have had something to do with it as well (the passengers simply row forward / back for the most part, while the guide steers). After the big fall, there were a few more class III and some class IV rapids which we went over. Tony managed to lose his paddle in one of the class IV's, but it was recovered by the trailing raft and returned to us. Shortly we got to the class VI falls at which we climbed out of the raft, took all we could take, and hiked over, sending the raft down and hoping for the best. The best did not happen for a raft from a company that went before ours - their raft got lodged on a rock at the bottom of the falls, and it took about half an hour of wedging to get it loose.
After that, our rafts were sent over and retrieved by the guides. I could appreciate why we did not attempt that fall - it was a series of 3 falls, 5+ feet each, with very sharp turns between them. I'm sure we would have rammed rocks on the way down, and it would have been rather painful to fall out at that point.
Alas, the big fall was the end of the big rapids. We boarded our rafts and set off for the finish. Since none of us managed to get tossed overboard, we decided to jump off the raft and swim along for a while. Voluntary overboards are better than none, after all. The 60 degree water was refreshing in the hot sun. At least it was refreshing for about 10 minutes - after that, it was almost numbing.
Before we knew it, we were done! There was the finish where we unloaded
the raft, carried it up the hill to the van, and got on the bus to go back.
Of the 29 passengers who went on the journey, only 2 managed to fall out
of their rafts, and 1 of those was pushed. The most serious injuries were
Wendi's scraped knee and Matt's broken nail (poor baby).
On the ride back up we made the decision - rafting is fun, we want to go again, and this was not challenging enough (one can only say that in retrospect, of course). Our confidence riding high, we felt like we could take on class IV-V rapids next time. Hopefully, we will get a chance to do so next season.
I would recommend this trip for those going rafting for the first time - it is rather tame, so there is not much to fear, but it has a couple of spots to give you a taste of the challenges of white water. The rafts were small enough to be enjoyable, the details were taken care of well, the guides were friendly and knowledgeable and they took good care of us. It was a weekend of adventure that is a good launch into the world of white-water. Watching the kayaks run the course provides additional motivation of the fun that can be had on the water. If you are thinking of taking such a trip - go for it! Hopefully you can join us for the next trip - probably on the Stanislaw or Merced.