Rafting the Kern

White water rafting
Has always been
A passion of mine,
So when a good friend
Invited Becky and I,
For a weekend
Father-daughter adventure,
Rafting the Kern River,
I had no reservations.
A group of girls,
Ages twelve to sixteen,
From the local
Mormon Church
Wanted to go
Because the boys
Had gone before,
And their experience
Sounded exciting.
Becky, however,
Was less than thrilled
With the idea.
Her apprehension
That Papa was crazy
And would do
Almost anything
For a thrill
Turned to stark terror
On the way there,
And I was treated to
A running commentary
Of the most comical sort.
Our first sighting
Of the Lower Kern
Catapulted Becky’s fear
Into orbit
And even got
My adrenaline running.
I watched in stunned silence
As the waters
Fought their way
Down the mountain
Through a deep
Boulder strewn gorge.
There was hardly
A section anywhere
That was calm
And tranquil.
It was a roiling,
Tumultuous flood
Cascading down
The mountain,
And Becky questioned
How a fish could
Even survive that.
The signs along the way
Certainly didn’t help
Ease her concerns,
Especially the one
That announced,
“Danger, 279 People Killed
So Far On This River!”
Even I had doubts
As we looked down
On the river
With all its raging fury.
We asked
A Forest Ranger
About that sign,
And he assured us
Most of those
Were drunken fishermen
Who fell off the rocks.
They had to be
Rescued constantly.
I reassured myself
That the church
Would never take
The girls anywhere
Really dangerous,
But Becky
Had less confidence in them
Than I did.
As we traveled farther up
Into the mountains,
We passed another sign
That said
“Now Entering the
Los Padres
National Forest,”
And Becky pointed out
How ludicrous that was
For there wasn’t
A tree in sight,
Only jagged boulders
And an angry river.
The road meandered
Around steep rocky slopes
On its way up,
And Becky considered
The possibility
Of jumping out
And running back home.
She maintained
Her conversation of terror
Until we got to the camp
Just below Lake Isabella.
There were twenty girls there
With seven adults
And everyone was excited.
That next morning,
As we set up our gear
And prepared to get going
At the jump off spot
For the Lower Kern,
A river guide came along
And observed the girls
And studied the adults
In our party
And flat out
Told us we were crazy.
That lower river was wild,
He said,
And only the most
Experienced rafters
Should consider trying it,
And certainly not
With a bunch of young girls!
He strongly recommended
We try the Upper Kern instead.
“It would be
A whole lot safer
And a lot more fun
For everyone,”
He told us.
Someone prayed for a sign
And that one
Was loud and clear,
So we picked up our gear
And headed up river.
That turn out to be
A wise and fortunate decision.
The Upper Kern
Is a much tamer river,
One suitable
To a fun loving,
But inexperienced
Group like us.
We could relax
And enjoy the trip
Without much concern
For our safety.
We formed a group
Of five rafts
Going down river together
Splashing each other
And playing around
As we went.
Everyone, adults included
Wore a life jacket,
Not that we thought
We would need them.
We soon discovered
Even the lowly Upper Kern
Had a few tricks
Up its sleeves.
We found ourselves
Careening down rapids
Totally out of control.
Our coordination and teamwork
Left something to be desired
And most of the girls lacked
The skill, strength
And determination to row.
Nonetheless,
It was a race to be first
Around the rocks
And through the rapids.
One set of rapids
Wreaked havoc
With our group,
Dumping most of us
Into the water.
One mother
Who came along
Ended up
Breaking her tailbone
In that incident.
When we finally made it
To Lake Isabella,
We all were thankful
For that river guide’s advice.
Heck, we were challenged
Even by the mild mannered
Sister of the Lower Kern.
It is doubtful any of us
Would have made it through
The other route.